Excited!!!!!!

New Year's is almost year! Er, here. :o)

New Year's Day has to be my favorite holiday . . . ever. Hands-down, there is nothing I get more thrilled about than the promise that comes along with turning over a new leaf and starting fresh. I'm reminded that while New Year's comes once every year (hence the name, I'm sure), every day can be the start of something new, something good, something profound. Maybe it's hard to see, but at each phase of the journey, the best thing we can do is take a glance back, maybe linger over some memories that have truly shaped and defined us, and then turn our faces forward to walk into the future.

Now, before you start chiding me for being so gosh darn Pollyanna-esque, I should come clean and state that I am a chronic critic. It is my most crippling affliction. I resist change, I'm stubborn and obstinate mostly because I poke holes in ideas and feel that sometimes, if things can't be perfect from the get-go, they're not even worth attempting. So I'm sure you can imagine how hard this is to overcome. Every goal I've ever had (college, running a marathon, making my long distance relationships work) has been punctuated and peppered with the excuses I make for not following suit with Nike's mantra and just DOING it.

Back in April, I finished a marathon, which is big. Except, for all of the cheating and slacking I did because I didn't have the faith in myself to actually complete it, the accomplishment feels . . . tainted. It doesn't seem as sweet. It's something that I would think would motivate me to lace up my sneaks as soon as I recovered from the injuries I gained, but it didn't -- because I criticized my own victory. I'm so happy to be happy for others, but for myself? Not for long . . .

So where does this leave me? With some inspiration to actually embrace change. I'm not going to be a happy person (well, happiER person -- I still think in spite of my snap judgments and self-doubt that I'm a pretty happy person), I'm not going to be a runner again and I'm not going to be a more motivated person unless I PRACTICE them.

I'm sure this seems elementary, but at 22 years old, I'm finally getting it . . . just in time for New Year's, my favorite remember? So here we go . . . again. Practicing. Right now, I'm sitting in my workout pants, running socks (because cotton is rotten!), and my shirt from Big Sur (it was the first non-cotton shirt I pulled, but serendipitously enough, the one from my marathon). My Brooks Trance 8's are unlaced, right next to me. I have pulled my unusually well-behaved curls into a messy bun with the feeble hope that they will look just as good when I'm done. (But who are we kidding . . . Lightning really doesn't strike twice, does it?)

And I'm off to practice . . . :o)

On eating and eating well.

I live on a block with a Trader Joe's. (Yeah, it's pretty freaking great.) Theoretically, I can walk to get groceries. I haven't yet, but I'm optimistic.

Having the accessibility to good, wholesome food has completely changed my diet . . . for the better. I cook as much vegetation as I can get my hands on and I'm madly in love with goat cheese. I'd give up just about any other kind of cheese (except for extra sharp cheddar) just to be able to keep goat cheese in the mix.

Since I've started cooking my own food, I've noticed better habits developing:
- cooking vegetables . . . for any meal
- lighter salad dressings (some days, I opt for a bit of olive oil and some lemon juice)
- more whole grains (sadly, I didn't have the "love it!" response to whole wheat pasta that I thought I was going to have, but I'm hopeful that it's just an "acquired taste" that I will acquire soon enough)
- eating less junk food

Now, with that last one, it's a bit of an interesting thing to me that since I have started eating better, I just don't crave junk food as much. I have a far more weakened lust for cupcakes (though I won't lie . . . I'm seriously jonesing for one right now . . .), I drink less alcohol and surprisingly enough, I find that I just don't really want it.

Of course, when I do indulge in a trip to Sprinkles, I find that I feel really gross afterwards. @#%$! This healthy living crap just shot cupcakes for me.

Of course, I know it's for the better . . . I mean, most days I need a cupcake like I need a hole in my head, but I really really really really really really love my cupcakes. A lot. But it's nice to see my newer, healthier habits are starting to take over my older, not-so-great ones.

Who knows . . . Maybe I'll start hitting the gym soon.

Zen and the art of . . . potato soup?

I don't think I could ever adequately describe how much I am loving learning how to cook. I mean, I've never really practiced. Mom and Dad usually took care of meals for us, but for the brief months I lived in Fresno, I got to try out cooking a bit.

Now, living by myself, I'm looking into recipes 'made for two,' mostly because I can make enough for myself and lunch the next day. I dig the idea because I think it helps me stretch my food options a bit more -- I'm majorly guilty of falling into food ruts when I don't have anything interesting to pique my interest.

Last night, I picked up some onions and broth to combine with stuff I already had and made myself a pot of really good potato soup. It was just so meditative and soothing to go home and spend about a half hour cutting, slicing, simmering and stirring. (Of course, the drinking of the pint of Guinness probably didn't hurt this relaxing process.)

If I had to grade my project, though, I'd probably give it a C+/B- (for now). It was tasty, however I think there are some modifications that could have been made and I'm picky about doing things well in the kitchen. (I have no idea where this has come from -- my family used to tease me about not knowing the recipe for boiled water.) Next time around, we're adding some turkey bacon and sharp cheddar cheese. You know . . . just to try . . .

Other menu options for the week:
* sauteed zucchini, mushrooms and edamame with basmati rice
* whole wheat pasta with homemade basil mushroom marinara
* pizza with spinach and goat cheese (okay, I confess -- this is coming from a box but I still have to manage not to burn it!)

I tried Twizzlers Rainbow Twists just now, thinking the fun new colors and flavors would somehow make me hate licorice less.

Didn’t work. Licorice still tastes like plastic.