Local August

Like good suburbanites our parents signed my sister and me up for the community soccer league. 

I had two strategies for dominating a soccer game when I was five.  I always started with Strategy A, tell the child with the ball “Hey, it’s my turn to kick the ball.”  As we were all educated on the virtues of sharing in kindergarten, this usually worked pretty well.  In the event that Strategy A failed, I quickly turned to Strategy B which was a little blunter, “You kick that ball, I’ll bite you.”  It is amazing how well that worked considering I was a full head shorter than any other kid on my team. 

Apparently while I was making threats, the other children were learning the difference between a halfback and a fullback, and that “turns” were not applicable.  At this point I realized I was never going to be good at soccer, promptly quit and got back to my gymnastics studio as fast as possible. 

My sister, who actually knows the difference between a halfback and fullback, stuck with soccer a lot longer than I did.  I remember summer after summer of her suited up in her green and gold uniform, shin guards, and knee socks in July.  This past weekend she and I were discussing what I thought was her valiant soccer career.  I realized I was way off the mark when she told me, “every time we had to play the light blue and red team I nearly crapped my pants.” 

I still laugh when I hear those words in my head, but then it makes me sad.  I imagine that the light blue and red team had better coaches and better athletes (the kind that don’t need to make threats to score goals).  At ten I don’t think she couldn’t see that.  All she understood was that, she felt inferior.  Before the light blue and red girls stepped on the field, she (and the rest of the green and gold girls) had already lost the game.

As I listened to my sister comically relate the stories of her soccer mishaps she had me laughing so hard I cried.  I’m not so sure that it was all just from the joking, I just felt so bad that my sister has been carrying around all these negative thoughts about exercise for twenty years.  I imagine when faced with exercise today part of her is still green and gold, worried about what she won’t succeed.

Anyone who was picked last for their team in gym class is on the green and gold team.  Anyone who never tried out for the varsity sports team because they were worried they wouldn’t make the cut is on the green and gold team.  Anyone who finished the mile run last is on the green and gold team.  We have all been on the green and gold team.

A note to the Green and Gold team members:  They don’t matter anymore, put those feelings aside.  Find something you love and do it.  That thing you’ve always wanted to do.  You don’t have to run a marathon, unless you want to.  Try something new.  Play.  Play hopscotch.  Jump rope.  You don’t have to do it to be better than them.  You don’t have to do it for survival.  You have to do it because you want to.  And when you do, don’t forget to cherish yourselves for taking the time to be good to your body.

Last week I skipped my usual Thursday night yoga to go to a cooking class with my friend Alison at my local library.  I know you’re thinking, a cooking class at the library?  I did the first time I went to a class at the library too, but the programming at this library is usually very well done, and the cooking demonstrations in particular are always fantastic. 

Unfortunately, this particular class was dreadful.  Not a good word, it was a little worse than dreadful.  The class started late and the demonstration lasted 15 minutes.  Not to mention the menu unadvertised menu that included fish, olive and coconut.  Not exactly a menu I would think would please all. But that hardly matters, because the food was cold and overcooked. 

I skipped yoga for that?  Really?

As the class wound down 45 minutes after it started, I turned to Alison and asked her if she wanted to go get something fit for human consumption.  She agreed, as I’m sure she was very hungry as fish, olive and coconut are not on her favorite foods lists.   I’m pretty sure she’s not a fan of cold, overcooked food either. 

We had a delightful dinner and then made a spontaneous trip to the mall.  We chatted, laughed, and caught up (even though we see each other a few times a week, we still need to catch up).  It was such a wonderful evening that seemed to last forever. 

As we parted we both agreed that the evening while not what we had planned or expected was better because the class was awful.  Had it been a good class we would have been in the same room together, but missed out on the opportunity to enjoy the company of a dear friend.

I skipped yoga for that!  Of course, wouldn’t you?

This past weekend I went to visit my nephew. He’s 20 months old, way super adorable, and has a sensitive palate.

Two months ago my sister and I brought him blueberry picking. I thought she was absolutely insane bringing a toddler blueberry picking. I was wrong, because we had brought him to the mythical land of blueberries! He munched and munched on blueberries, wandering from bush to bush looking for the perfect berry. He was a real delight to have around that morning.

At that time, you could give him an assortment of foods and he consistently picked out all the blueberries first. Yet over the last few weeks, his love for blueberries has waned. He’ll pick at them, but he’s no longer thrilled to eat them. At the same time, he’s suddenly enamored with the apple.

When I visited this weekend he ate almost a whole apple with his dinner (well after he stuck a fork in it we should probably call it an apple-sicle). And yes, he used it as a gavel also…

I don’t think his favorite food shift is attributed to boredom, I think he can taste the difference between good fresh blueberries and blueberries that have been shipped across the globe to get to his high chair. He’s opting for the in season apples that are growing practically in his back yard.

I think as we age and have more experiences with new foods, we start to lose the ability to distinguish the quality of produce that is fresh and local. So much of the produce that is available at the grocery store, even when it is in season locally is not local. (Remember my post on Tomatoes?) As nearly all of the produce I’ve had over the last few months has been local, I know my tastes have changed. Some of the processed things I’ve eaten just taste a little bland and artificial. I wonder if I could distinguish with produce as my nephew does.

By the way, I’ve been overdosing on apples too, I had four yesterday. But they taste so good right now!

I feel giddy like I’m six years old and today is my birthday.
I feel like I just found a 20 dollar bill on the street.
I feel like the sun is shining and I have nothing to do but spend the day outside.

Today I found out one of my coworkers quit smoking.

This isn’t a coworker that I’m particularly close to. We’ve never gone to lunch together, we don’t hang out on the weekends, though we did once run into each other at the Brighton Farmer’s Market. I don’t work with her directly and I only bump into her in the halls or the break room. And yet this news still has me thrilled.

I have no idea how hard it is to quit smoking. I never started, so I have no need to quit. I do know that this choice she made is very difficult. She now has to change a lot of habits that she’s formed over the last thirty some years. I can’t imagine how difficult the path ahead of her is, but I know she’ll be successful as she is very determined to make this change.

An odd coincidence – She quit smoking on the 2 year anniversary of Dr. Meltzer’s passing (see post “Thank you Dr. Meltzer”). It’s fitting; I think he would be as proud as I am.

For Christmas last year my sister gave me a wonderful cookbook “Simply in Season” which groups recipes by the seasons, and for the most part, all the fresh fruits and vegetables in a recipe are from the same season. This cookbook has been a real help with some of the items I’ve found in the CSA bag. For instance the Swiss chard that had me puzzled turned into a dinner of Sweet and Sour Swiss Chard. It struck me as funny how a pot of swiss chard, onion, and raisins is dinner now. Two years ago before started on my journey of health and wellness, dinner had to be meat, starch and vegetable. There they sat in their predictable thirds, just like I was supposed to.

By increasing the plant matter in my diet, I am so much more satisfied by a meal than I was with my typical dinner. I do eat meat, but only a couple times a week, compared to my couple times a day before. If you are one of the people who is concerned about my protein intake, I ask you to consider where the cow’s protein comes from. The greens she’s munching on all day.

Which leads me to a confession I need to make. Until May of 2008, I never realized what “greens” were. I honestly thought that the oh-so-important greens were all the green vegetables out there like broccoli, peas and green beans. Until I was told that greens were in fact leafy greens like lettuce, spinach and my new friend Swiss chard. Oops! I was doing very poorly at that, as I am not salad’s biggest fan.

When my wellness coach suggested that I add greens into my diet I immediately pushed back. No salad, I’m not a rabbit. Her suggestion was to add spinach to the fruit smoothies I was making every morning. I don’t think it’s hard to imagine that I pushed back against that also. Other than maybe an attempt to prove her wrong, I don’t remember exactly what drove me to actually try it, because even though I am now a complete convert to it, it still sounds insane to me.

I remember staring at the blender full of blended strawberries with one spinach leaf in my hand thinking, “she’s crazy, and I’m going to ruin this smoothie.” Eventually I worked up the courage to try it, and the result was that one leaf of spinach was completely undetectable. The next day I added two or three leaves… and by the end of the week I was throwing in a large handful. I was drinking that dreaded salad, without the dread! Brilliant idea!

Not only did I suddenly drop six pounds, but my blood pressure went from pre-hypertension to normal in a month. While making a fruit smoothie (my smoothies are just fruit and water, well and now greens) every morning isn’t the easiest thing to do, and it adds needing to wash a blender into my daily chores, it is simple. It was one small step to take to get healthier. The first step of many.

Two years ago while I was in South Dakota on vacation, a lot of terrible things happened at home. Every time my phone rang it seemed to be worse.

Ring: My father’s good friend got into a bad boating accident.

Ring: A motorcyclist fell in front of my parent’s car.

Ring: My dear friend Michelle’s father passed away.

Michelle and I went to school together as children, but we didn’t discover each other as friends until we were in our senior year of high school. As a result, I didn’t spend as much time at her house getting to know her parents.

Through my limited encounters with Dr. Meltzer, I learned what an incredible human being he was. He was a busy cardiologist who found time to lobby for legislation to ban smoking in public places in New Mexico. He was a competitive tri-athlete. He took his family on amazing vacations to six continents. And most importantly, Dr. Meltzer was loving husband and father.

I got the devastating news from Michelle as we were almost to the Badlands. My friend and I stopped at a convenience store to get some water and I remember leaning against the rental car in the parking lot with tears streaming down my face. I felt awkward, worthless, and guilty. Here I was on vacation, while my friend and her family (who are equally amazing people) were suffering this terrible loss.

I was useless. I could do nothing for Michelle. And I had suddenly turned into a terrible traveling companion. I wiped my tears, put on a brave face and my friend and I proceeded to the Badlands.

I remember standing there, in front of this beautiful natural creation, completely miserable.  I was thinking about Dr. Meltzer and how he was gone.  Just gone.  Suddenly gone.  No explanation gone.  And I was out supposedly enjoying myself.  How was the world fair?  Why was I doing this?  Shouldn’t I cancel the rest of the trip and go home?

While all these questions ran through my mind, I was brought back to the last conversation I had with Dr. Meltzer.  I was visiting Michelle at her parent’s home in New Mexico; we were leaving that morning to drive to LA (in a very roundabout path).  While she was in the shower, I sat and ate breakfast with her father.  He spoke animatedly about his experiences at all the places we were going to stop at along the way.  White Sands National Monument, Santa Fe, Taos, the Grand Canyon.  (We never did make it to any of those places, but that’s a different story.)

He told me he was so proud of Michelle and me for exploring what the world had to offer.  He spoke about how sad it is that people invest a lot of time and money on possessions and mundane activities.  He reminded me that, all we can take with us after this life is our knowledge and our experiences.

This memory came to me so vividly, so suddenly, and while the pain of losing him persisted, instantly my guilt was gone.

Had I been able to go to Michelle, I wouldn’t have been much of a comfort.  I couldn’t have brought her father back.  There are no words I could have uttered to fix the devastation.  But, I believe I was doing what he would have wanted me to.  I was exploring the world, I was learning what it had to offer me.  Until that moment, standing in the wake of his passing, I don’t think I fully understood our conversation.

Dr. Meltzer had such a passion for life, and I’m grateful he took the time to share that with me.  I still struggle with the fact that he left the world so soon, but I know he cherished every moment.  My memories of him are not as plentiful as I wish, but the lessons he taught me are invaluable.

 My whole life I have been excessively competitive.  I try to cover it up by saying I am tenacious, but when you break it down, that’s just a nice way of saying I’m very competitive.  I am drawn to activities that are competitive.  I was once a competitive gymnast, then figure skater, now Irish dancer. 

 I used to be a very sore loser and a worse winner until I ran across the following quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson.

 Win as if you were used to it, lose as if you enjoyed it for a change.

That helped to make me a more socially acceptable board game player, but my desire to be better still shows up in unwarranted situations. 

• I count the number of people I pass as I walk through the mall
• I “win” when I’m having a meal with a group of people and I’m the only person who doesn’t order dessert. 
• I get frustrated at yoga class when someone else can hold a handstand longer than I can.

I’m competing, but the other competitors don’t even know they’re in the game!

BUT – it’s not always a bad thing.  When my competitive nature presents itself as persistence, I think it’s a good thing.  I doubt I would have gotten through my Local August challenge without it.  And in that case, I think having that desire to succeed was a blessing.  Eating locally was difficult, but I learned so much from it.  I lost weight, I slept better, I got some new recipes, I MAY HAVE FINALLY KICKED MY SODA HABIT… all good things.

Now if I could only find a way to be competitive while doing laundry and washing dishes.

While writing my blog post about chocolate, I scripted a sentence that started, “The customers customarily purchased…” I immediately deleted it because it sounded a bit inane.  But then I started to wonder about the relationship between the words customer and custom.  Obviously the root of the word is the same, but the way these words are commonly used used there is no relationship between the two.

We understand the meaning of these words as follows,

• Custom: a habitual practice
• Customer: a person who purchases goods or services

Unsatisfied by my inability to see a clear relationship, I went to the library to consult the most spectacular dictionary – The OED (Oxford English Dictionary) for a little more insight. 

While researching, I discovered that Shakespeare used the word customer to refer to a prostitute in both All’s Well that Ends Well and Othello.  I always thought prostitutes had customers, not that they were the customer… Interesting but not exactly helpful.

Back to the meaningful research… Customer first appears in 1440 meaning “one who acquires ownership by long use or possession,” however as early as 1480 it was used to signify “one who frequents any place of sale for the sake of purchasing.”  The key here is “FREQUENTS.” At that time, people didn’t have mega supermarkets and intersections with a different restaurant on every corner.  They didn’t have transportation to get much further than a farm or two over.  And they certainly didn’t have shelf stable food and refrigerators.  By nature of their lifestyle they were custom-ers.

We have lost the custom aspect to our consuming.  We buy in bulk and stock up, and when we do, what are we buying?  The last time I was at Sam’s Club I walked by someone’s cart and I was appalled by what was inside, cookies, soda, and chips (aka: garbage, garbage, and garbage).  I then started to look at the other carts piled with processed food like substances and eventually I left empty handed disgusted with what the store had to offer.  I haven’t been back since.

If you pursue a path of wellness, I think it is inevitable that you will become a custom-er.  You will develop relationships with wholesome suppliers, you will shop more regularly and develop a habit of cooking at home.  Initially it’s not convenient and American culture doesn’t encourage it.  I really felt that at the beginning of my Local August experiment.  But by the end I was a customer (NOT a Shakespearian customer) and I really enjoyed the experience so much that haven’t given it up.  It’s a custom for me.

Before I started my local eating adventure, I had gotten into a bad habit of eating meals out.  Not just some, most.  I was eating breakfast at home, but nearly all my lunches and most of my dinners were prepared by someone else.  Someone I paid to cook my food.  Someone who hid mysterious ingredients in my food.

When you eat exclusively locally, you can’t eat out.  There are some restaurants that use local suppliers, but they are not 100% local.  This forced me to start cooking at home on a regular basis.  I actually had to spend time and energy to find and cook recipes from local ingredients.

Every time I cooked, I had a real feeling of satisfaction about working towards completing my self imposed challenge, and I had the added benefit of an excellent smelling home.  It’s amazing how long the good smells of garlic, onion and fresh herbs can linger.  After ending the challenge, I think part of what motivated me to continuing cooking at home and keep my local focus has been the desire to keep the smell of goodness in my home. 

Tonight, I’m going to cook shredded zucchini and squash with some garlic and onion, toss it with a little cheddar cheese… 100% local and it’s going to smell (and taste) fantastic!

Over the last few days I’ve been debilitated by the fact that I have so many topics I want to discuss here.  Now that I freed myself not only from eating locally, but also from writing about local eating, I feel that I can explore other topics.  I still think I will keep my blog relevant with topics that still relate to health and wellness, but not primarily local eating.  That freedom is opening my eyes to experiences everywhere.  I can’t leave a yoga class or the supermarket without the seed of a blog post rolling around in my head.

I have this expectation that every post must be brilliant.  Over the last few days I’ve been so busy (accumulating all of these fantastic future posts) that I haven’t had time to write a post I will be proud of.  So what did I do instead?  Nothing.  And sadly, some of the concepts lost, because I never wrote it down. 

Then my mom said: Sometimes it’s not about showing off.  It’s about showing up.  (I told you these blog topics keep coming to me from every experience I have.)  She had been talking about an experience she had at the gym, but it related so beautifully to my blog.  I had two options.  I could have shown off and written a well constructed essay or I could have shown up and just gotten it done. 

We are all guilty of not showing up.

• Maybe it’s a party you want to plan, but you don’t have time to dust every single surface and prepare the perfect menu so the party doesn’t get planned. (They are your friends, will they care?)
• Maybe it’s running in race, but you don’t have time to train for a marathon, so you opt for sitting home watching re-runs.  (Ever heard of a 5k?)
• Maybe you want to send a congratulations letter to a friend who just got a new job, but you think you should make a homemade card but don’t have time to do it just yet.  (I imagine your friend will be happy to find the Hallmark version in her mailbox.)

The desire to be very good at something can be great when it’s a motivator, but when that desire stops you because you can’t be perfect, it’s time to reassess your priorities.

There’s more time for showing off – For me, today was about showing up.

How can you show up today?