The quest for happy imperfection…

… and what a strange place it is! First off, I didn’t weigh myself today. I’m such a weirdo that I have to weigh myself at the same time every day, and if I don’t, well, I just don’t go there.

So I skipped breakfast today. Yes, I know, a healthy living taboo. But, I wasn’t hungry, and I’m trying to listen to my body’s requests. (Save that nagging demond for pastries and/or brownies) Anyways, I got up around 10:30 (a great feeling. And people tell me that I should have kids… and miss sleeping in?) drug my carcass to Long’s, and bought myself a snowshovel. (I know, I’m probably the only person in Tahoe who didn’t have a snowshovel. But after having three of them stolen last winter, I was trying to holdout in protest, perhaps a vain hope that the guilty party would return them. Alas, the snow piling up insisted that I put my “hell no I won’t go!” sign down and buy a damned shovel.) I then spent an hour shoveling out my driveway.

An amazing thing happened while I was shoveling my driveway… I liked it! I felt strong, empowered, independent. I chucked that snow like there was no tomorrow. People driving by just slowed down and stared- apparently everyone but me has a snowblower, and shoveling out a 40 foot long driveway is a total anomoly. Either that, or, considering that the snow was still falling, they were all marveling at my exercise in futility. I turned up my iPod, gave a couple shovel swirls, and did a little mini dance. Who needs a snowblower? I AM the snowblower. In my head, I decided that at the end of this winter, hubby and I should set aside the money we would spend on a snowblower, and spend it on me. I am, afterall, just as efficient, less smelly, and (slightly) less bulky. Down the street, one of my neighbors is out in her perfectly coordinated workout suit, pushing her snowblower with one hand and drinking a Starbucks in the other. I had to laugh, I felt bad. She was missing out on a great workout, a chance to be one with the snow. Then again, considering she looked like Snowblower Barbie, she probably needed a cookie more than a workout. But still.

For lunch I had two small potatoes with some light sour cream and a couple French’s onions (not just for greenbean casserole!) a Whip yogurt, and a 100 calorie pack of Doritos. Yeah, I could have worked in some more veggies, and some more protein. But, I didn’t overeat. Small steps for womankind, my friends. 

I then proceeded to practically pass out for a couple hours. Apparently, something about snowstorms makes me want to hibernate. Which is ironic, because I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ve been doing for the past year or so. But that’s neither here nor there. Let me tell you, napping is glorious. Right up there with popcorn.  After I woke up, I spent an hour or so watching Food Network and playing around with recipes on CookingLight. Quite inspiring. Plus, I’m unstoppable. I mean, I shoveled my whole driveway. So I put on my apron and went to work in the kitchen.

Granted, I only made tacos. But, I made them even though it was just me, though I passed on the cilantro pesto butternut squash (hubby was snowed in on the mountain again). And, I was excited about making them. I even made them with a homemade blend of spices, scoffing at the Lawry’s packet that begged me to use it. Now, I know, it’s not like I’m really reaping any health benefits by blending my own spices. But, it’s more important than that. I’m getting back to my surpreme love of food. Not my love of food like facedown in a plate of cookies love of food. My love of food in that I love to create in the kitchen. I love to blend flavors and make delicious food. And now, here’s my relatively brief soap-box moment. Why can’t loving food be considered a good thing? Why does it have to be associated with being heavy? Why can’t we eat healthy BECAUSE we love food? I mean, if you think about it, loving food generally isn’t what causes people to be overweight. Generally, people gain weight because they make poor food choices. But, if people learned to LOVE food, they’d be reaching for better options. If you love food, you’re not reaching fast or processed food. You’re reaching for fresh ingredients that are prepared in ways that compliment their intrinstic flavors. So, people of  America, put down the fries. You don’t really love fries. You reach for them because they’re easy, and baited with unhealthy fats and unnatural amounts of salt. You’re reaching for the fries because you think you love them. Put the fries down, and reach for fresh produce, lean meat, and get creative. Okay, down from my soapbox… for now.

Long story short, tacos were tasty, and I feel excited about cooking for the first time in quite awhile. After dinner I went to leave for a friend’s house, only to discover something awful. Caltrans had burmed me in. For those of you not in the snow-know, a burm is an insurmountable wall of snow left on the side of the road by inconsiderate plow drivers who think that your pristine driveway is a great resting place for the snow they’ve pushed off the road. Now, at this point, snow had also fallen all day, and my nicely cleared area was covered in about 8 inches of snow. Now those of you that have not encountered the burm before are probably thinking “oh, it’s just more snow, free workout!” But no. This is not the easy to move powder that coats everything else. This is evil snow, reminiscent of its malificent origins. It is crusty, full of dirt, rocks, etc., and totally frozen. That’s right, the evil plow drivers not only marred my nice shoveling job, but boxed me in with a wall of nasty ice. Those jerks. So I chip away at enough of it to be able to get my car out and keep my shovel in car, just in case the evil plow driver comes back while I’m gone.

Well, the plow driver didn’t come back while I was gone, but I had a good amount of snow piled on top of my previously pristine driveway. So I decided, hey, why not? Despite the fact that it was ten at night, I spend another hour shoveling. I am woman, see me shovel!!! Not only did I feel strong, but attractive. Which is funny, considering that ther eis nothign attractive about a bright yellow jacket, a man’s t-shirt, jeans tucked into your boots, and wet hair plastered all over your face.   Oh yeah, that’s hot.  But, I just kept looking at how much I had accomplished, and didn’t come inside until it was completely cleared. All in all, I burned 1,057 calories shoveling snow. I think that’s a pretty good start for my first “real” workout in a month or so.

To make things even better, I finally got the bath right. The temperature was just right, the tea was amazing, the level of bubbles perfect. Ahh.. heaven.