Today.. not so flush with enthusiasm. I’m cranky and want to eat what I want. My gym was offering soft pretzels this afternoon…and it killed me to walk passed them. Really want a diet soda and a sandwich.
Clearly I am in withdraw mode. No cheating.
Did feel lean in my swim suit again, but that was the only rush that occurred; the swim was otherwise anemic!! And today was a scheduled 2-fer so I was on the bike early this morning…equally lame effort.
Tonight will be some combination of potatoes / vegetables / protein. Is it dinner yet?
Drinking lots of sparkling water.
Oy vey if this is Day 3 and I have not even encountered a weekend without a cocktail. Luuuucy, we have a problem…
TheWhole30 Program…eeeks…so I’m buying into the buzz. Or maybe the junk food junkie buzz is so loud in my hear that I have no choice but to listen. Whatever, this program caught my attention.
My goal aligns with the spirit of the program, have a better relationship with food. Spend 30 days consistently eating from the single source healthy buckets; liberate and energize your taste buds, and better understand undesirables. Or to use a movie star reference. If Cate Blanchett is the gold standard, then she is my single source, good for me, protein/fruit/vegetable friend and I should spend lots of time with her .. and I’ve been overlooking her. Jennifer Anniston is my good time girl, think cocktails, snack food. So lovely when you are together, but there must be limits. And the Kardashians…oy vey, they represent diet soda. A habit that must be broken.
I will never not like chocolate chip ice cream, chips and salsa, potent cocktails, but maybe there are better ways to interact with these “friends”, and 30 days is a nice lump of time to figure it out. There is even a “re-entry” plan once the 30 days are over. So while it seems counterintuitive to create a countdown calendar, I look forward to a better relationship with food…and a cocktail on March 7th. And oh by the way, while it is not a goal of the program, if I drop a few lbs., good on me.
So alas I spend Super Bowl Sunday yukking it up with Jennifer Anniston, but prepping for time with Cate Blanchett.
Day 1 Thoughts – Monday was a bit of a thud, but I resisted the calls of “just one can” from my diet soda enemy and “are a few pretzels really going to hurt” and made it through the day / night. Overall, I was a bit headachy and pretty tired, but lest we forget, Sunday was not healthy from any perspective. Did not work out but it was a planned off day.
Day 2 Thoughts – early AM pool workout – felt GREAT!! Could be psychological but I felt leaner, more energized. Call me bored already with chicken breast.
Quickie note.. I have 2 weeks off from work. Or more correctly, I have two weeks between jobs. Left current job on Friday night, amicable parting, time for something new, blah blah blah. Start new job on 12/7.
How often do we as working professionals get 2 weeks of unencumbered time off? Even on vacation, some thought at some point in the day, contemplates works. But these 2 weeks, not so. The only contemplation each day is whether it is a play day or a chores day. I have a list of both options. Today is a combo.
My blog goal is to write everyday. But right now I have very important things to do like go for a swim, stop at the Micros Center, schedule my license appt at the DMV, clean the pantry closet.. so so busy changing the world today..
So the Mr. is out of town this weekend. As he frolics in Colorado with pals I am forced to eat globs of cheesy nachos, generally washed down with a big bucket of tequila, while watching really bad tv. The dog and I chat, agonize over squirrel problems (his), dissect age changes (mine). All in, a very painful weekend, she says sarcastically. But alas some check offs do happen on the honey do list. This morning it was an analysis of old sweatshirts – yup, could not give any away but they are folded very neatly in my closet – that counts for something right? And while mucking around in the catch all closet, the sock bag called out..yoo hoo, haven’t seen you in a while. Point of reference, I love socks, buy them randomly, sucker for color, stickler for thin vs thick (both needed but selected judiciously). And all that said, I am more often than not without socks, even in the winter.
For running however, I need socks. So the sock bag referenced above is the running sock bag where thick vs thin is very pertinent based on the running shoes being worn. Matching, however, is overrated, hence a sock bag of unmatched socks, where a match is 2 thicks or 2 thins.
So here comes the metaphor…I have a lot of running socks, really cool running socks, lots that have not been worn for a while. Like most people I grab from the top and replace on top, it’s easy. Hmmm…are you with me…it’s like life, sometimes we need to do a little inventory and really savor what we have, nurture it, don’t let the elastic rot for lack of use. Mix things up, dig deep, don’t take the easy route.
And on that note, I have to go back to matching socks and maybe even sending some on to their final destination, acknowledging that I have let some elastic rot…eeks that sounds grim eh?
Sunday morning in Monaco – I’m looking at yachts in the harbor, an occasional helicopter landing on the hotel roof nearby, and a mix of locals and tourists wandering about in search of coffee.
But before we say arrivederci to Italy and bonjour to France, a wrap up of Bellagio-Belvedere Hotel-Lake Como…
The last time I spent any time vacationing on a lake was Locust Lake in the Poconos. And while I will love that memory all my life, a few relaxing days in Lake Como was pretty darn sweet. As noted earlier I swam laps in a pool sitting next to Lake Como. Later that day, swimming was conducted in Lake Como. As in jumped off the ledge of a perfectly restored mahogany speedboat and floated around on my back in Lake Como. Really? We paid a few euros to tour by boat but it was worth it. My faux persona for a few hours was one part Hyannis Kennedy, one part movie star. We saw George’s house, lovely and understated and completely ruining the surrounding real estate values for a buyer, also Versace’s house and gobs of others not viewable from the street. Not sure that pictures will do the day justice but I have them and will show them when we get back.
While Rome was go, go, go in a city, Bellagio was wander wander wander through a small lake town. I ran a few mornings and waved to locals hanging laundry, working on their cars, visiting the cemetery, dropping kids off at school. Both the Mr. and I were jealous of the college kids working there for the summer. A week of vacation split between Rome and Bellagio Italy is a vacation of a lifetime – save your euros but well worth every sacrifice.
A mere four hours away we were winding down (literally) the road into Monaco, clearly we’re not in Kansas anymore. Bucolic Bellagio in the reluctant rear view mirror. Arrival day was dreary, our hotel room is meh (the natural comeuppance maybe for a room windfall at the Belvedere), but my years of Madame Amiry and Madame Shearer French are kicking in and I’m helping our little group navigate the big bad city of Monaco.
Have to pause here as the weather is dicey for the day and we want to get in as much people watching, yacht viewing, is that a daughter or a high end Russian hooker assessing as we can. More later..
Did not spell check, grammar check at all so apologies…
Thursday morning greetings from Hotel Belvedere on Lake Como.
I promise to backtrack to details about Rome. The newbie travel blogger is learning lots of lessons on this trip, a) don’t wait to blog the details of a day, especially if you’re in Rome, as the next day will match or eclipse the previous day and you’ll be overwhelmed trying to sum it all up b) if you’re going to blog, bring your own “tools” – relying on hotel set-ups to compliment my own devices was a rookie mistake and hence I continue to struggle uploading pictures.
Anyway, we reluctantly left Rome yesterday morning. In 3 short days we fell in love with the city. The Mr wants to go back at Christmas to see what it looks like in another season. In short, we started early and stayed out late, some hours were focused to accommodate must see things like the Vatican and the Coliseum. And many hours were spent wandering down streets and marvelling at things like the Italian women and their effortless high heeled approach to cobblestone, glorious cold water from open fountains everywhere, expresso, not 24 ounces of Wawa coffee in a container with a lid, but a quick hit of expresso in a small cup had while standing at the counter, the fearlessness of the scooter drivers, the depth of history, art, and architecture.
But alas the next adventure was upon us so with a ciao ciao, we jumped on the fast train from Rome to Milan, local though fast train from Milan to Varenna, and lastly a short ferry over to the town of Bellagio on Lake Como. Fairly hilarious sidetrack story upon arrival in Bellagio…we understood the hotel to say that they were within walking distance of the ferry landing. By the time we “walked” the short distance, the Mr had had to pull his rolling bag through a field complete with gnats buzzing around his head and dodge traffic on a windy uphill road – no exaggeration. Instead of arriving with an air of distinction, we arrived sweaty and with “distink”. The hotel felt awful for the miscommunication, the normal route is via a courtesy car that meets you at the ferry blah blah blah. We kept our sense of humor and ended up with a room upgrade. Between us, thinking about the Mr in full stomp through the field makes me laugh to myself even a day later…and the room “upgrade” is glorious – all in, a win win for moi!
So..Lake Como…everything you have seen in pictures or read about, it is quite simply true. I swam laps this morning in the hotel pool overlooking the lake. If I die today, please someone eulogise my last morning on the planet as sublime. Last night the Mr commented, “they must pipe in perfectly chirping birds”. Think the quietness of a lake that is jet ski free, add villas to the coastline outfitted with vegetation that is naturally pink, yellow, green, purple, with flower, throw in a mountain in the distance that still has snow cover, and then gently tuck in our hotel sitting up a bit from the lake looking down over narrow cobbled roads. A graceful and lovely oasis.
Today we are touring a villa so I have to go now and soak up a little serenity before heading out. More later and I will continue to work on the pictures..
We arrived as planned on Sunday afternoon. Fill in the obligtory remarks about fatigue, crying babies on the plane, groggy foggy based confusion at both Heathrow and Rome airports, blah blah blah when you^re final destination is Rome!!
Our Hotel Indigo is very centrally located so we dropped our bags and forced ourselves back out the door. It has only been 2 days and I just had to say to the Mr. “what did we see on the first day”. Our goal was to stay in motion day and night and we have stayed true to the goal.
I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking for now as I hear a cocktail calling my name.
Generally speaking, day 1 was the center of town, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, Piazza Navonna, lots of churches (full disclosure, a few were used as respite from the heat), Trevii Fountain…
Technical difficulties…I cannot seem to upload pics except this one of the Mr on Day 1 getting acclimated at our hotel’s rooftop bar. Will continue to work on a fix, have gobs of photos
So my numero uno travel/pack principle has stayed pretty constant over the gazillion years I’ve been on the planet. Even with increased maturity (hopefully), finances (sometimes you’re up, sometimes not), the principle is this: less is more, but only if the less includes my contacts/contact solution, coke bottle glasses as a back-up, cash/wallet, and at least one set of running clothes including my sneakers. The rest…meh, details. In my early 20’s I traveled for 4 months with an old-school gym bag (not the monstrosities of today). When I needed a change of clothes (after 3 -4 days in the current clothes), I headed to an open market wherever I was and haggled for a franc , a pound, a peseta’s worth of clothes. Time of your life kid, time of your life.
Pretty much only 1 time when I strayed from the principle and that was my honeymoon in France. I adopted the persona of Fifi LaRue…and Fifi needed lots of accoutrements. Minimum disclosure, I packed every shade of kitten heel imaginable, wore maybe one pair, maybe for 3 hours seated at dinner – no walking required. As a devotee of less is more, I defend my straying with 4 words…it was my honeymoon.
But alas Fifi appears to be making a limited reappearance. Kind of like Cat Stevens at this year’s Rock and Roll Hall of Fame induction He’s gone on to be lots of other things, namely Yusuf Islam, but for a night, when he sang, man that was Cat Stevens. So don’t judge, Fifi is coming out of moth balls briefly and heading to…Italy; Rome and Como, and Monaco. I’m traveling with some of the Mr’s family and ceded considerations of “what to bring, what to wear”. There will be over-packing on full display and surely unworn clothes and shoes at trip’s end.
Don’t fret however, MC as Fifi will still assess judiciously if she has to pick demur and de-lovely over da-what-is-MC-wearing. And MC-like utilitarian clothes will make the cut. But Fifi will be full on Fifi in the following scenarios: If the Pope needs me, summons me for an audience, I will make sure my underpants are holy and not holey (here’s hoping he doesn’t care one way or the other). And If George Clooney needs me to swing by his house in Como, I promise no stained, it kind of fits t-shirt, and clunky MC-like shorts,
We leave Saturday night for a long week as I like to call it. Arrive in Rome Sunday AM for a few days, Como area/actually Bellagio for a few days, Monaco for a few days, and then a thud back to reality on Tuesday 6/17.
It’s Thursday night and my current status is freaked out. Necessary work deliverable due by tomorrow night and then switch gears for travel mode.
See attached pics for how well I’m adjusting to Fifi-ville….stay tuned.
Okay slight exaggeration but herein lies the current “pile” of potential Fifi wear..Can MC “do” Fifi in her tried and true Lucas bag, circa 1982..
God Gawd Gertie…last time I posted was July 2013. Nearly unbelievable for someone as, how I wish there was a gentler word, narcissistic, as me. Though not straying far from my stripes, the last post was squarely about me and my lack of running acumen. HAHAHA
More importantly, what have you been doing for 11 months without me? Yup, that’s what I thought, wishing and a-hoping that I would blog something.
Indeed lots to blog about over the last 11 months,. And while I fancy myself a sage in so many areas, a guru whom (who? – always confuses) the masses flock to for guidance, let’s call bullshit immediately and get to the heart of this blog and why you visit…you’re friends and/or family and you’re curious what travel Adventures are afoot.
Impending travel for MC…so let’s head out on the 2014 installment of Adventures with MC.
Oh PS – synonym for narcissistic…”self-regarding”…sounds downright Zen…
And so last night after work, in the swampy humidity, with poison ivy itching and oozing (where in the hell did that come from) I slogged around the track for some miles. Notice I’m not acknowledging the mile count; they were pure junk miles just to sweat out the work day. Oh and the poison ivy…it’s on my legs, and, well, like any self-respecting 5 year old I itched it like crazy. When salty sweat hits exposed skin…hello…now there’s a litte reward for your foolishness.
So why not just go home after work and have a cocktai to start the July 4th holiday. Threefold answer, 1) missed my normal run time in the AM and 2) don’t you fret your pretty head a cocktail was had and 3) as of 1 July I’ve committed to getting my happy ass back in some sort of running shape. At the very least some consistent mileage and/or committed schedule.
And why you may ask? Well besides the fact that I’m the human trash can for food, and need to equalize calories in and calories expended, it appears there is one more marathon in this body. Ohhh, please tell me more. Yea right, who besides a runner actually says tell me more about your marathon training. Kind of like, please tell me more about your recent trip to Cleveland. (sorry Cleveland)
Well it’s my damn blog I can write whatever I want yup yup yup. So after finally qualifying for Boston (it only took me about 12 years and 3 age ranges) and getting passed the lottery selection, hello 2013 start line. And we all know what happened on that day. I was part of the group that was stopped at the 25 or so mile mark. Saving the full details for another day; the short story is that “my group” is being offered entrance in the 2014 race without having to qualfiy and go through the lottery again. As I have said to anyone who asked, the 2013 race was amazing…until it wasn’t. I ran with such joy, high fiving spectators along the way, having a beer instead of a water at an unofficial “fueling station”, last marathon, what a way to end 30 years of distance running, blah blah blah. The BAA is lovely to offer us this opportunity; the idea of putting together another sequence of 20 milers, ugh, not so much.. But it would be disrespectful to those who suffered in so many ways to do anything but accept the generous offer and honor them with my best effort. That said, the old gal is gonna need a longer training period which takes us back to 1 July.
My thought is to slog through the summer months with some balance between the right thing…consistent running, healthy eating, cross training, a good night’s sleep…and the real me. By the fall, and please do not rush me to September as I adore my summer, I should have some semblance of fitness and start to map out a game plan for the cold months.
Okay we’ve chatted long enough. This morning it’s a double…at least 1 mile swim, swimming, really loving by the way, and some miles with my scratchy oozy kind of gross looking legs.
Happy 4th, and to many who have crossed my path in various ways, thank you thank you thank you for my Independence.
