Hitting the Wall...

10:49 AM Elizabeth Seckman 2 Comments

Nothing is more depressing than watching a homesick kindergartener get back into the swing of school on a cold dreary Monday.  Poor little critter clutching the door, red eyed, and snotty nosed...you are about to learn a harsh lesson...Mom's just going to get out of the car, peel your fingers off the handle, and make you go inside.

Because...as much as it sucks...as much as it makes the tummy ache to leave the comforts and joys of home for the florescent lights and laminated  tables of school...it must be done.

Welcome to reality. Grab your Barbie back pack, pull up your big girl pants, and go get some education.

And I suppose that's a lesson for us all.  

I remember being that girl who really DID. NOT. WANT. TO. GO. TO. SCHOOL.

PERIOD.

It wasn't that school was so awful, I just had a difficult time with transitions. I'm still not the kind of gal who switches course midstream without some mental gear grinding. But now I am older and wiser (I hear the giggles...bite me) and know how to get myself to move my feet in the direction they have to go whether I like it or not. 

It's a lesson I credit to sports. 

Rewind twenty some years. I was an athlete (now you may giggle...okay, so I practiced with the team and kept the bench toasty)...but still I was, by all technical definitions, an athlete. I showed up every August with my tennis shoes on, ready to sweat (okay, truth be told...I was out to sweat as little as I had to, and in hind sight, this was probably the reason I was a permanent fixture on the bench). 

Anyhow...those first days stunk. Our coach called this torture conditioning. We would run till we hurt, then run a little more. At the end of practice we would do timed wind sprints. Now, at each end of our gym were the old wooden pull out bleachers and during practice they would be shoved against the wall. So they made a wooden wall with slits through them that made perfect finger holds. So here we were, trying to come in under the time limit, pedaling our legs as fast as they'd go, flying into the homestretch and bam...bam...bam...bodies would hit the wall. And it felt so good to slip the fingers through those ledges and just hang as your lungs screamed in protest. But my coach, who was part philosopher, part medic, would blow her freaking whistle and yell, "Ladies, off the wall! Walk it off.  Body straight. Hands behind your neck and breathe...deep breath in, slow breath out...walk it off ladies...walk it off."

I remember thinking I'd just as soon wrap the whistle around her neck, but instead I walked. And had to admit, she was right. Clutching the wall and crying didn't help...to be sure...it only made matters worse. And eventually, after a couple of weeks, the body (and the resistant little mind) did become conditioned and you forgot that you ever smacked the wall.

That's my advice on an icky Monday...when you hit the wall, walk it off.

Oh, yeah...and breathe. Cause if you're breathing...you're alive...and as long as you're alive, you might as well live.
Yep, that's me in 1988...it's an action shot!

2 comments:

Game Day Strategy...

2:11 PM Elizabeth Seckman 4 Comments


Living in a house of men with all their grid iron expertise hasn’t influenced my team picking strategy one bit. My system remains the same as it was since I was a much skinnier 16.

#1 First and Foremost: STEELERS
I always go Black and Gold…even when Big Ben alleged of rape and acts like a big baby on the field Roethlisberger leads them.  

#2 Likability Factor
Got a lovable player?  The whole team benefits.
Maurkice Pouncey~ LOVE him…took the time to sign a hat and jersey for my baby…you’re in my prayers cutie!
Troy Palamalu ~ He hits hard… and has loveliest locks in the bizness
Hines Ward~ What a smile…I believe it even has its own fan page, and if it doesn’t, it should.

*Noticed these are all Steelers? Well, that’s because they are always the best pick if you are putting money on a game. But what happens *ouch* when they get eliminated? Have faith there are other lovable guys on the field...
Tim Tebow~   You haven’t escaped my attention, or the attention of the world for that matter. Got the kahunas to wear your faith on your sleeve without worrying about the naysayers and the haters? You are THE MAN.
Drew Breeze~  He thanked God as he snuggled his baby boy on the  post Super Bowl XLIV stage. ..Who Dat?  Dat’s a MAN.
Okay, Okay….so far my system has left me without a single team for this year’s run to the Super Bowl. So what’s left in the process?

#3 Unlikability Factor
Any team playing against Tom Brady, the mechanically perfect, despicably human quarterback of the Patriots, gets my game day loyalty. You see Tom, I haven’t forgotten how you knocked up one chick then dated another before the baby was even born. My teen age boys might say you’re just a player who knows how to throw balls on and off the field, but I’m not impressed. You sir, are as loathsome to me as Tebow is to the anti-Christ.
*Now the Patriots seem to be on a hot streak and I fully predict I will be rooting against them in the Super Bowl. But let’s say they do get eliminated…and I get to choose between, say, the Giants and the Ravens? I will use the final standard…

#4 Prettiest Uniform
My son with his Pouncey fan gear.
The hottest team on game day gets my vote.

(And to think my boys say chicks are ruining football…pah!)

4 comments:

Snow Day

12:29 PM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments

"i've seen lots of kids in their snow get-ups this afternoon, carrying their sleds. of course, it was almost sixty degrees yesterday, so nothing's really sticking or slick, but that's the kind of optimism that i want to have when i start every year."  Kelli Caseman, facebook philosopher

Thought of this today as another skiff of snow barely covers the tips of the grass, yet I know the kids will be out, ready to hit the still muddy slopes. 

As an adult, I know it's the wrong kind of snow. It's a blustery powder that isn't good for much beyond wind burn. And sleds probably won't do much more than tear up the grass and cause a mud hole come spring.

But still they will try. Happily. 

For a time.

But the day will come when they learn these things and know by a single look out a window that today is not a good sledding day.

It's a maturity thing. 

So maybe, just maybe...to regain our child like optimism...we need to dream without the constraints of logic. 

Maybe that is the truth behind optimism.

My little boy...on a day the snow was just right.

0 comments:

The Five Santas

9:38 PM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments

Every writer's dream...their words in print. 
What’s a sure fire way to get me to brag about your book?  
Thank me in the acknowledgements. 
Just joking, I’m not really quite as shameless as that…close, but not totally. I’ll gladly do it as a favor for a friend....as long as I like the book.
And Jay Mims' first book fits the bill. I like him and his book.
It’s a clever little murder mystery debuting the quirky soft shoe detective, Dan Landis. Dan will keep you giggling…oh but giggling is hardly the right word. It's not exactly manly…and Dan is definitely manly…so I shall say he will keep you grinning as you turn the pages.
Now murder and comedy don’t often go hand in hand, but in "The Five Santas" it does. I believe  the gentle writer, Mr. Mims, should be ashamed of himself for making the death of not just one, but several Santas a laughing matter, but he isn't. 
But oh well, what do you expect from a writer who sends his main character out in sophisticated black and day glo socks? 
Good luck Mr. Mims and long live the adorable Dan Landis.  

Here's the Amazon link...hope it and your credit card works ;)

http://www.amazon.com/Five-Santas-Oncoming-Storm/dp/098393410X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1326162264&sr=8-1

0 comments:

Happy New Year Fatty

10:18 PM Elizabeth Seckman 0 Comments

Happy New Year.

According to the Mayan Clock count down, we have 350 some odd days (depending on how quickly I get this posted) left to the world as we know it.

Now for everyone who chose weight loss as a New Year's resolution, you have 35 weeks left. If you lose a pound per week, you can exit this world 50 pounds lighter and a whole lot grumpier than you are today.

If that's your thing.

Me? I'm the anti-dieter. Diets are a spawn of the beast.  It and the glamorous world that promotes it walk hand in hand with the devil.

Here's how the diabolical plot unfolds...

Toss some MM's...she's barely able to stand!!
First, Hollywood and the fashion industry promote an idea of skinny that is beyond realistic and is unattainable by regular humans.* That's by design. They intend to destroy your self esteem. They create a cycle of self loathing after you fail time and time again to reach their standard of perfection. I cite for the record... Angelina Jolie. She started out thin...and now after a life in Hollywood, she barely has enough body fat to survive a 48 hour flu.

But that is their image of perfection.

And you strive to reach that image. Anything less and you're a BIG, FAT failure.

At least that's what they make you think. Not a size 0? Eat another cookie gargantuan and know that you fail as a human being and no one will ever love you. It's a subliminal message, but much stronger than the one spinning backward on your old Aerosmith LP.

But the message is planted and sets you up for the sort of mental bad mouthing the diet demon needs to finish you off.

"You must be perfect, you must be slim" 

You think it without even knowing it. It drives you to commit to starving yourself. Body Beautiful or bust.

And it is a bust... cause your body wants to live...it doesn't want to starve to death...or nearly to death as you seek to be Skeletor skinny. So, your brain (in self preservation mode) obsesses with food. Think you're going to walk through the kitchen for a glass of water without dipping your hand in the cookie jar?

Think again. That cookie will call your name, and if you're hard of hearing, it will freaking shriek....EAT ME!!!

The body and the beast conspire here...you know all about that spirit being willing but the flesh being weak? Well, here's your proof. You think it's simple self control, but no, it's a struggle beyond calories and carb counts. It's good vs. evil. You have placed your self worth in the hands of the diet demon and he's going to eat at you until you are nothing but a bloated tick in a pair of sweat pants.

Why? Because every pound you lose, you'll likely find two more. The more you obsess with weight, the more power you give to the beast. He'll have you craving Twinkies like a nympho seeks sex.

So, how do you win?

1. No more picking on yourself. If you wouldn't say it to a friend, don't say it to yourself. Would you ever tell a friend...'geesh fatty, did you really need that candy bar?' OF COURSE NOT! (and if you would...you have bigger issues than size...whatta bitch you must be!!)
2. Stop listening to Hollywood and their freak standards.**  You don't have to be a toothpick to be healthy. Everyone knows you'll need some body fat to survive the Zombie Apocalypse anyhow.
3. Treat your body good. Feed it well. Eat crap, feel like crap. Stop worrying about how many calories you want to cut and start thinking of all the nutrients you need to add.
4. Move it. Your body is a wonderful machine and it feels best when it's in use.
5. Hydrate. Drink your water. Besides, I hear it plumps up wrinkle lines...what's NOT to love about that?
6. Love yourself. Every pound, every ounce. Physical perfection is so over rated....remember body beautiful is less important than body doable. (See Philosophical Rule #7) In case you've forgotten or are new to the blog... Here's a little link...I'm helpful (and self-promoting) like that :)
http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=211570h51652270450#editor/target=post;postID=7178882228260365444

The footnotes...
*Most models and starlets are shipped in from the planet Malnourishmont. Their natural diet of cigarettes, amphetamines, and Diet Coke isn't recommended for earthlings.
**Remember, the standard was set for non human women.

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