Why I Lift Weights

It started out as a joke. “I lift weights to stay in shape for moving,” I’d say. Then giggle. Like an “it’s true, but mostly I’m joking” type of giggle.

I think that was three years ago. Since then, I have moved or helped someone else move about six times. I will be completing move number seven in a couple weeks.

Prior to that, I’ve moved an average of one time per year for the last 17 years. (I used middle-school algebra to figure that out.) Sometimes my greatest mental challenge is remembering my address. I try to play it off by saying something like, “I just moved,” which is true, or, “It’s been a long day!”

Now that I am getting to the age where things don’t heal as quickly as they once did, I’m valuing the gift of good health. And chiropractors. And ice packs. I know that lifting has helped me avoid several injuries, and I’m hoping this preventive effort will continue.

Lifting weights is the one exercise I can do consistently without getting bored. It also gives me the appetite of a teenage boy (slight exaggeration), so my second favorite exercise is grocery shopping.

The end.

Only Five Days Behind - Another Recovery Blog :)

Intentions are silly things. 

I had intended to post this entry last week. 

There is an excellent article regarding Thanksgiving and eating disorder recovery within this very link.  

Thanksgiving can be a very frightening holiday for anyone recovering from an eating disorder. Been there, done that; I lived to tell the tale! :) 
It is no longer frightening, nor abhorred. 

It is still good to keep in mind how much different Thanksgiving present is from Thanksgiving past. 

One example: 

Thanksgiving 1999 - I weighed myself as soon as I got home after the family gathering, and I had lost weight. I can't believe that was already 18 years ago, and I also can't believe that was the source of my satisfaction back then. 
Thanksgiving 2017 - I ate three varieties of meat this year, no guilt involved. I don't even own a scale.

Anyway, enjoy the article!

Tenth Avenue North - Control (Official Lyric Video)

Top 5, and Working Out

To continue with last week's theme of avoiding internet usage, here are the Top 5* Websites where I like to waste my time find a ton of joy when I do enter the Web. 
*these sites are subject to change at any time, without any notice

5. Lee Wolfe Blum's blog!!! I fell in love with her writing after reading Table in the Darkness. I laughed, I cried, I read some parts out loud. Then I signed my name in the book under the letter she wrote to her eating disorder when she decided to choose recovery.  
When I was on the train out to Oregon last spring, I read Brave and cried through that book as well. I re-read it in October and, you guessed it, cried some more! 
Where do all these tears come from?  They are joy, pain, sadness, and feeling alive all rolled up into special little drops of water. "Catharsis" is what I was told it was called in high school English class. I just call it healing. 

4. The Oregon Duck's Twitter OR Instagram page.  I totally missed the boat on Twitter AND Instagram. I still don't really grasp the purpose of either website (and don't even get me started on LinkedIn). However, scrolling through the Duck's photos on Twitter or Instagram fills me with a joy I can't really describe. He quacks me up. :)

3. Gmail. This one is a shocker, I know. There are still people whom I like to contact via email. 
My favorite part about my Gmail inbox is getting {N}Power rewards from Natural Grocers. There is a special offer that comes every couple months to get $5 off of my purchase.  I pretty much feel like I have won the lottery when I see that email. The offer is only good on a specific day, typically on Fridays, and there are a couple other requirements to meet before it gets loaded to my account. This means my schedule revolves around it for about a week in advance. I also write it down in my planner so that I won't forget. If anyone dared to think I don't live an exciting, edgy lifestyle, they ain't seen what I do on Fridays! 

2. Glory of Zion - What Month Is It? I am working on an art project in which I draw and color small sections of tag board to represent the Hebrew months. I'm only about half-way through the project, so that means I have about 6 months left to go...

I just realized how lame this list is, because if I am going to be truthful, Google would have to hold the Number One honor. Because Gmail is a close relative of Google, I am going to consider it covered, and forego naming it as my number one online love. 

1. YouTube!!! Specifically - Little Viejo!!! If I ever go back to South America or go to Central America, or work in a job where my Spanish language skills are used, I'm going to have to give a lot of credit to my favorite  Salvadoreño. Even if I never leave the US or speak Spanish to anyone ever never ever again, I'll still give a lot of credit to him! Mi querido Ivan, you've brought laughter into some of my darkest days. Te quiero muchísimo, hermanito! 


Note to self: write about working out on your next post. You forgot to do it here. 

Life Without Internet

When I moved into my apartment, I decided to forego WiFi. I am going on 11 months without personal access to the internet. 
Side note: I sit at a computer all day as part of my profession, so this isn't as big of a sacrifice as it may initially seem. 

It's kind of like working in a doughnut shop all day, eating doughnuts for breakfast, lunch and dinner, then saying that I fast from doughnuts on my personal time. The fast only takes place from 5p-7:30a. Big sacrifice. 

Or maybe it is more like working in a clothing store and saying that I don't shop for clothes on my personal time?

Hmmm...not quite sure what the right analogy is in this situation. 

Maybe it is akin to working at a gym, then being lazy on purpose once I leave for the day?

Being a janitor and failing to clean my house?

Moving on. 

Top Ten Things I Enjoy Doing Without Internet in My Home:

10) Ignoring current events
 9) Reading books
 8) Getting a healthy amount of rest each night
 7) Drawing
 6) Cooking
 5) Juicing an insane amount of apples (okay, that is not a regularly-scheduled activity.)
 4) Going to the library (to look at books and CD's, NOT to use their internet)
 3) Wearing snarky socks
 2) Dancing in my kitchen (the floor is made for it)
 1) Playing my guitar! 

Liezbeth

I know having favorites is generally frowned upon. However, there is this young girl who is about 13 by now, who completely stole my heart.

Her name is Liezbeth.

She was three when I met her during my stay in Bolivia. Most children are pretty passionate at age three, though their personalities channel that zest in different ways. Liz wore her passion on her sleeve. And all over the room.

Tia Fabiola used to set her up on top of a play house in the classroom so that she would be forced to sit still. She was perched up there like a bird in a cage, knowing she couldn’t escape. But even the caged bird sings.

I remember being SO excited one day when Liz jumped up in my lap, because she was not a cuddly type of girl. I was like, “finally, I think we are connecting a little bit.” Alas, she only wanted my gum. And she proceeded to grab it right out of my mouth while I was trying to ask her what she wanted.

She wanted my gum, not my attention.

I recently got back in touch with Tia Fabiola. She let me know that Liezbeth and her family no longer live in the prison – dad was released about a year ago, so Fabiola has lost touch with them. They live out in the Bolivian countryside somewhere.

There are hopes and dreams I have for Liz: I hope she knows what a gem she is, I hope she lets Jesus heal the parts of her heart that have been broken into pieces during her first 13 years on this earth. I hope I’ll see her in heaven, because I don’t think we’ll see each other again before that day. I dream that she’ll be strong and know that her identity is Christ, not in anything or anyone else.

When I was regaining strength after being in the hospital in Cochabamba, I read Psalm 139 almost every day. The pastor from the church I attended came to visit me once I was home, and he prayed for me. I felt so vulnerable and so safe at the same time. I was far from home, but close to my Father's heart. Life is so fragile.

My prayer today for Liz is Psalm 139:

O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit or stand. When far away you know my every thought. You chart the path ahead of me and tell me where to stop and rest. Every moment you know where I am. You know what I am going to say before I even say it. You both precede and follow me and place your hand of blessing on my head.

This is too glorious, too wonderful to believe! I can never be lost to your Spirit! I can never get away from my God! If I go up to heaven, you are there; if I go down to the place of the dead, you are there. If I ride the morning winds to the farthest oceans, even there your hand will guide me, your strength will support me. If I try to hide in the darkness, the night becomes light around me. For even darkness cannot hide from God; to you the night shines as bright as day. Darkness and light are both alike to you.

You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit them together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! It is amazing to think about. Your workmanship is marvelous—and how well I know it. You were there while I was being formed in utter seclusion! You saw me before I was born and scheduled each day of my life before I began to breathe. Every day was recorded in your book!

How precious it is, Lord, to realize that you are thinking about me constantly! I can’t even count how many times a day your thoughts turn toward me.And when I waken in the morning, you are still thinking of me!

Surely you will slay the wicked, Lord! Away, bloodthirsty men! Begone! They blaspheme your name and stand in arrogance against you—how silly can they be?  O Lord, shouldn’t I hate those who hate you? Shouldn’t I be grieved with them? Yes, I hate them, for your enemies are my enemies too.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test my thoughts. Point out anything you find in me that makes you sad, and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

The day that my parents started on the Oregon Trail

They aren’t physically following the trail, but they are on a journey, headed on an adventure. The destination is a new life.

A life of gentle rain, instead of blowing snow.

A life of lush and fragrant plants, with trees as tall as mountains. (Or mountains as tall as trees?)

A life of strangers who become friends.

Closed doors, replaced by open doors.

Old jobs, replaced by new jobs, or no jobs at all.

The feeling of always being rushed, replaced by setting one’s own pace.

New beginnings, new hope, new leisure, new rest.

Blessing you with God’s best for your lives, today and always. Love you.

Because today might be the best day of my life

I sat outside during my lunch break today. It was one of those perfect, almost-fall days with sun that feels like heaven. The air was crisp and cool, so I wore a sweater.

Wearing sweaters in the coolness of the fall after a hot summer is a special treat.

The past couple weeks, I’ve felt like there is a gap between the Lord and me. 

Sometimes You're further than the moon
Sometimes You're closer than my skin  - David Crowder Band

As I sat outside, the sun warming me, I felt close to Him again. It was so still outside; not in an eerie way, but in a peaceful way. It was like I could hear the grass growing, because there was no background noise.

When a day starts off with coffee this good, it just might be the best day of my life. 

The Phone, again; how to be agile

The Jitterbug flip phone presented a few issues that hinder my communication. Because my communication could be graded at a C+ (on good days) or a D- (on bad days), I can't let my phone bring me down even farther. Or further. I can't let the phone bring me down.

I now have the Jitterbug Touch 3, which is a smartphone! And I can communicate pretty well on it. I am working on my communication skillz, and interpersonal skills overall. 

At work, we are going through Real World Agile Training. Most of it is common sense, like "only have one person talk at a time." Okay, cool. Got it. 
However, there are some concepts that have sidetracked my brain to the point where I can't remember everyday words like "police officer" or "home-owner's association." One of these concepts that sidetracks me is that when I explain to my team what I did yesterday and what I will be doing today, that is not a status update.   I'm still not really sure what it is, but I think it is a status update. But it is not. 
My brain cannot handle these type of word games. I am just not made for it. 

Also, I have decided that everyone who works at Agile must be Ducks fans (only covertly though), because they throw the O in most of their online group photos, but never mention the team. I think their hand gestures are supposed to represent the leadership triangle, BUT the triangle hand gesture is already taken by the Illuminati, possibly? That is territory better left to the professionals. 

Unrelated to either of the above topics, it is only Tuesday (no, Silly! It's Wednesday) yet feels like a late afternoon on a Friday, only without the excitement that Friday brings. My brain is shot. 

Hay mucho mas.

I took a fork in the road on my last few entries. The scenic route, if you will.

Since posting the entry on April 24, 2016, life has changed significantly. Here is the blogger-appropriate update, complete with several generalizations in order to keep confidential things confidential.

• New job! My new job is like the perfect man! Only it’s a job! But it’s like I’ve gotten married and I am still on my honeymoon over a year later!

I don’t feel like I am going to work when I go to work (I look forward to it.) I get paid to be myself.

It has been healing in its own special way; I know who I am now, and I know that I am NOT defined by my job. All of the managers are firm believers in servant leadership AND they follow through on its concepts. I feel like a real, live person when I am here, as opposed to feeling like a wandering soul at some previous jobs.

I no longer pass my days with meetings topped off with more meetings (and you still need to get all your work done, young lady!). The atmosphere in this place is sustainable and life-giving. It’s great. And I swear I am not brainwashed.

The place where I work will not be around for too many more years in its current state, hence the love letter I wrote to it on July 24.

• I still live in the US.  But now I live on my total own for the first time in my life. (I lived alone for about three months in 2008, while I waited for a roomie to enter my world and go halfsies on the rent with me.)

The choice to move away from the safe haven of my housemates was one of the most difficult choices I have made thus far in my life. I honestly thought I would drift farther and farther away from them until we were nothing more than acquaintances. Because I had lived with them for about eight years, that thought was quite upsetting.  Alas, the physical separation has actually strengthened our bond. Good news.

The part of the move that was the most frightening for me was the tormenting thought that living on my own would bring the eating disorder(s) back. The Lord had healed and healed and healed me some more while living with my housemates; would venturing out on my own reverse all that? Would it reverse it AND make worse?

I’m happy to share I am okay and I’m on my way! Woohoo!!! Since moving out, I’ve come to understand in a deeper way who I am and from where my strength comes. It’s from the Lord, and the small body of believers He has graciously supplied for me.

I still have emotionally up days and down days (because I am female), but I don’t connect feelings with food anymore. Food is fuel.

• I have slowed down my life. In an attempt not to be labeled “Type A” (the bad kind of type A…you know someone like that), I take time to slow down, let myself read books, let myself take naps if I am tired or not feeling well, and I turn people down when I can tell I need to stay home and recharge. It feels really good.

That is the quick version. I am hoping to copy my blogging buddy and start posting once a week. I may stick with the topic of eating disorders, but I may not. It’s all about life and destiny, choosing to walk in the Spirit. Is this what it feels like to be okay? 

The first time I went golfing

I had a goal last summer to go golfing. The summer ended without being able to achieve that goal. This summer is a new chapter in my life.


The first time I went golfing, I was 33 years old. It was more enjoyable and tiring than I had anticipated.


The grass on the course was the most exceptional grass I have ever walked on. I think a good way to pass the day would be to lay on it, and absorb its pristine quality through my pores. However, I learned a good lesson about golfing etiquette: don't stay too long on the course. Always let the men behind you go first, because they are better than you.


Golf is a bit of a conundrum, because it seems so leisurely from the outside. The reality is, a lot of the other players are in a hurry.  They speed hither and yon on their little carts, with no time to pause and reflect.


The sun felt hotter than normal on my skin; I was glad we went late in the day.


I discovered that the driver is my favorite type of club. I loved standing with my weight evenly distributed between my feet, focusing all of my attention on the ball atop the tee. I loved switching my focus to my form, pretending that I had been playing for 20 years, and that I was about to take the best swing of my life. I drew the club back like a pro, then felt my weight shift as my right foot pivoted forward to follow through after making exquisite contact. I lost sight of the ball momentarily, and used the time to stare into the sky like this was the greatest moment of my life.


I liked the driver mostly because of the whoosh sound it makes, followed by a swift crack when it strikes the ball. Everything was so quiet on the green that the sounds made the game. (Unless you are a professional golfer. Then your score makes the game.)


My friends and I didn't keep score.


We also only made it through six of the nine holes we had anticipated playing. I was getting a headache from the heat and humidity, and it was nearing my bedtime (see previous blog entry regarding nursing home).


Next goal: spend an afternoon at the driving range.

The Phone

Let me preface this entry by saying that I should probably live in a nursing home, because I have a lot in common with 90 year olds.

I recently upgraded my previous cell phone by replacing it with a Jitterbug flip phone. I just want my phone to be a phone.

My 26-year-old coworker asked me yesterday how I find where I need to go without having a Smartphone. I don’t know where he goes on a daily basis that would necessitate the use of maps. I typically go to about four places in a given week, and I have the directions memorized. I am smart.

When I go out of town, I am almost always visiting family, so I call them as I get close if I can’t remember where I am going. I also like paper maps.

Then I added that I like to ask locals for directions, because it is a good way to meet people. My 50-something coworker then said, “That’s great that you find that exciting….but I am just surprised your face isn’t on a milk carton.”

Well, I am also a bit surprised I am not on a milk carton. However, I don’t think anyone looks at milk cartons or drinks milk anymore? Not sure; I can’t Google that on my flip phone. 

More Than I Hoped

Beloved Job,

I was attracted to you by your flip-flops and graphic tees. You shone with panache and flair that spat in the face of corporate pride. You stayed classy and relaxed in a building that enjoyed enforcing outdated and uppity ideals. You were the back-beat to my kick drum in a world of violins.

We officially became a couple on May 9. I never thought I would be the type to remember the exact date of our first date. Then you blew all of my presuppositions out of the water. 

From the beginning, you made sure to take care of me. You kept communication open, for real. You followed through when you said you would. You made sure we touched base each morning to see how things were going. You continually ask me what my goals are, and you help me grow as an individual.

Because you know I like reading, you occasionally give me books that we discuss together later.

You think servant leadership is the greatest, and you aren’t afraid to flaunt it, in a humble way.

You are always giving back to the community, and you encourage me to take time from my busy work day to get out and help out.

Even when altruism isn’t the motivating factor, you tell me it’s okay to come in late, leave early, take a long lunch, put my family first, etc. You always say “Yes, if…” instead of “No, because…”, just because you want to continue improving. 

You challenge me to be a better me without being condescending. I didn’t think that was possible. You also don’t value me based on doing everything just right. I also didn’t think that was possible. You’ve changed my mind about a lot of things.

I prayed about making the right choice before we made it official. I felt the Lord’s blessing, and I rushed to receive it to the fullest. He blew me away with the fulfillment I felt because I waited on His guiding peace. He’s used you to teach me and help me identify the lies I believed about “your type” in the past. I thought the only good job was a…well, I didn’t think a good job existed. I didn’t think I could be happy going to work each day.

You changed all that.

And now we both know that our relationship has a projected end date. We may only be together three more years, at the most.

It was beyond our control, beyond our knowledge. It only makes the time we have together that much sweeter.

I have laughed, cried, been hopeless, been hopeful, been sad, been happy, pretended like it wasn’t happening since I was told that, “Yes, it is happening.”

“In about three years…”

No more seeing you every day. No more lunches with you. No more spontaneous team activities. No more silly, fun Twitter posts about what we did together last week.

“In about three years…”

Thank you for being you, beloved job.

Thank you for proving that working is not a life sentence; it can be a joy and a privilege, and way more educational than grad school. And high school. And elementary school.

Work can be enjoyable and I can actually be good at it.

Thank you for proving that you are worth it. Thanks for being everything I thought you would be, and more.

Thank you for letting God use you to bring me closer to Christ and filling me with His life as I spend time with you each day.

Missing you already,

Allie