Foodie penpal: June

I wish I remembered where I saw it, but I was reading a blog about a month or so ago and came across the most brilliant idea: bloggers sign up and then send a package to another blogger. Lovely, no? The theme is "foodies" - so the boxes are full of homemade goodies, or local specialties, or some ingredients to make an included recipe. It combines two of my loves: exploring food and getting mail. So of course, I signed up.

I sent my package to Leslie, a woman with a great blog called Bake This Cake - she does all sorts of vintage cake recipes. I'm super into old recipes, if you recall, and wish I wasn't mid-move, I would've sent her some retro cookbooks! As I've been entirely addicted to homemade trail mix lately, I sent her some individually portioned out bags with nuts, lots of different dried fruits, and these interesting Almond Joy candies I found at the store - I usually do coconut and chocolate chips, but with the heat in California, I was worried about them melting, so I used these instead, as they're sort of like M&Ms - I hoped the candy coating would keep better!

For the package I received, many many thanks go to Tina from Moms Crazy Cooking who sent me a variety of goodies from Trader Joe's, as well as a reusable grocery bag (always handy!) and a really lovely note congratulating me on my weight loss.

To tell the truth, I just went to Trader Joe's for the first time in March - there were a few in Chicago, but none near my apartment (though one opened within a few weeks of my relocation!). The closest one to me in California? Over an hour away. If I had a car, it would be worth the drive, for sure. It's a really neat place.

So, thank you Tina for the amazing package! I can't wait to see what July brings - being in Chicago, I can get way more creative with my outgoing mail now!

What about you? Have you ever had a penpal? Would you be interested in a blogger package swap like these? What are some local specialties you would include in your package?

Also: somewhat on the subject of vintage/retro recipes, I have a guest post going live either today or yesterday (I'm writing this in advance due to the big move this weekend!) on Mimi's retro Weight Watchers blog. I made a recipe from a 1974 issue of Weight Watchers magazine - let's just say ... it involves fish, melon, pickles. Go check it out!

Adieu

Besides a scheduled post for Saturday, I might be silent for a little while.

Today is the big day.

As soon as this post goes live, I'm shutting down my work laptop, handing it in, giving a final exam, then heading up to San Francisco for the night. My flight to Chicago - a one-way, at long last - leaves in the morning, about 25 hours from now.

I woke up this morning and ran four miles - my last run in California, at least as a resident. It was bittersweet. I have two usual routes that I run - I did the short one on Tuesday, the longer one this morning. And it was sad, I suppose, to realize this is the last time I'll run here. The last time I'll see these paths. Even if I return to California for a vacation, this is not likely a place I'll be stopping by. This is the end - an adieu, not an au revoir - and the idea of forever overwhelms me a bit.

I have been very anxious the past two weeks - getting rid of my belongings by either mailing them out to Chicago or selling them, getting everything in order for the big day. For today. The last piece of my Post-It note calendar came down, and I let out a very heavy sigh.

It doesn't feel like I imagined. At first I thought I would be thrilled to leave, then I wondered if I might feel a little sad. The overwhelming sensation this whole week has been not that I am moving, but rather, that I'm returning home after an extended, incredibly taxing vacation. But today, all I'm feeling is just a whole-body sense of peace. California is not where I belong forever, but for a short period of my life, it was where I was meant to be.

There's a brilliant quote by Zora Neale Hurston that my sister shared on her personal blog a few days ago:

There are years that ask questions, and years that answer.

I had a intensely transformative year from 2010 to 2011, one where I lost 150 pounds and changed an incredible number of things in my life. It left me with a feeling of success, but also, with a lot of questions. What happens next? What will the rest of my life in maintenance be like? Who is this smaller girl? What do I really want in life?

Today, at the end of my ten months on the West Coast, I find myself with a lot of ideas about how to respond to those issues and concerns - as well as with a series of all new things to consider.

I'm weighing in at 189 today, which is a loss of 18 pounds from January 1, but only 3 pounds since the last time I could call myself a Chicago resident. It's not ideal, it's not where I thought I'd be. But those have been, without question, the heaviest 3 pounds of my loss so far. And again, right now, I'm feeling nothing but peaceful.

Square one

Today has been a very strange day.

I woke up absolutely ravenous, not entirely surprising since I ran 9 miles on Saturday and attempted to take a short walk around my neighborhood yesterday and ended up walking about 15 miles, around the meadows and to the university and back. I've been doing really well with avoiding binges - six days strong! - and keeping my eating in check, trying to listen to my body for hunger cues instead of eating on a schedule or to meet a suggested limit. I've been hovering around 1350-1400 calories a day, which I think is good, and I haven't felt deprived or had the urge to overeat. But today, as soon as I woke up, I was super hungry. So I had two pieces of fruit with my Greek yogurt instead of one, plus a serving of almonds when I got to the office (I keep them there to avoid excessive at-home snacking).

After teaching this morning, I headed home to tidy up a bit before my pre-moving inspection (the apartment manager walks around and suggests how to clean better in order to get back more of your security deposit). I was gathering clothes to donate when I heard my phone go off - three text messages, one after another, rapidfire.

I know it's exceptionally late for this, but I just wanted to apologize ... I didn't mean for things to turn out the way they did and hurt you. I should have tried harder ... I am sorry for my actions.

I didn't recognize the number, and my heart started fluttering, both terrified and overwhelmed at who it could possibly be (or at least, who I hoped it was).

It wasn't him.

It was Bobby.

Still shocking, still entirely unexpected. And very, very strange. The conversation was brief and sort of awkward, not unlike our short time together. I told him I was moving back to Chicago, and he said maybe we can meet up sometime when you get back. A nice idea, I suppose, but I'm not entirely sure how interested I would be, even as friends. First, because we didn't have all that much in common, and I don't know how well we would have fared if we stayed together, long or short distance. And second, because I'm absolutely head-over-heels smitten with Matt - all I can focus on lately is how good it will feel to exhale deeply, step off the plane, and finally be in his arms again. Things started with Justin before they ended with Bobby, so to speak, and I think that speaks volumes about how attached to Bobby I really was. I feel really awful looking back on it, and I think that what I really wanted was some Chicago to cling to, something constant to ease the transition as I moved across the country for a new job in a new place. If I do see him again, it would only be to apologize. Neither of us was entirely innocent with how things got so messy and then ended, but I still feel guilty about the whole Justin situation.

It was, again, a very brief conversation, sort of surface-level. And it was only the beginning of my afternoon.

Halfway through the conversation, my phone rang. It was Benjamin, one of my new roommates in Chicago. A Parisian, his English is very good with a few flaws when it comes to idioms; that, paired with a lousy connection from his pay-as-you-go cell phone, meant it took me a few tries to understand what he was trying to say. What he meant was, I have to tell you something, are you sitting down?

There was a fire ... someone in the other apartments ... cigarette on a couch ... every apartment is damaged or destroyed ...

Benj and our third roommate, Kabir, were both safe - in fact, the inside of the apartment is entirely damage-free, with the exception of a few things that were being stored in my room that the firemen knocked over and broke when they came in through the fire escape. Benj said it just smells like smoke, but the rest of the place is a mess.

I'll have to assess the situation when I get back to the city this weekend, but after reports from Benj and Lorelei, the friend who lived in the room I was prepared to rent, I am not sure we'll be able to stay in the building while it gets repaired.

I panicked, my heart rate skyrocketed, but I didn't even think to binge, and that is something to be proud of. Try as I may to become more spontaneous, I'm still very addicted to the structure that comes with obsessive planning, and having things set me back at square one (especially, say, three days before I'm supposed to be moving across the country) is usually a recipe for disaster.

Eating incredible amounts of junk food doesn't make my apartment any more habitable, but the high from binge eating is a welcome distraction from the disaster at hand. If I'm high, I don't have to focus on anything but the pain in my stomach and jaw. With enough calories fast enough, I can fall asleep and not have to feel like I'm drowning in my sea of conscious worries: the perfect job that someone else got, the great apartment that burned down, the family issues that are worrying me sick.

I'm doing my best to stay focused, present, positive, and grateful. Waking up hungry is frustrating, but for now, I have enough money to take care of that hunger. Getting unexpected messages from former flames is heart-rending, but I also am lucky enough to say I've known these men and had these experiences that have made me who I am today. And hearing about the apartment is stressful, but there are a lot of places to live in Chicago. I'll find one. I'm going to worry about one day at a time. Things will work out for the best, they always, always do.

Hundred Day Challenge

Secret: I'm pretty scared about moving back to Chicago.

I love the city - it feels like home for me - but I still find myself a bit nervous thinking about my return.

The biggest source of my anxiety right now is the uncertainty. Moving to California was nerve-wrecking in a different way: I had no idea about the town I would be moving to, but I had a job and an apartment and I figured the rest would fall into place soon enough. Chicago poses the opposite problem right now: I have an apartment in a good location and with a few roommates (which I am grateful for, both in terms of less rent but also, more people around - after my year in solitude, I think this will be very good). But there's still a great deal of instability; namely, I have a part-time job lined up, but not in my field. There was one full-time job posted a month or so ago, and a good friend of mine disclosed to me the other day that she'd just left her third interview for the position - I never even got a rejection letter. I'm scared about not being able to pay my bills, or getting hurt or sick since I will no longer have insurance, or having to quit the Ragnar team. Luckily, I saved up enough this year to have a good buffer - between that and the part time article writing job, I know I have at least a few months to a year before the situation is critical.

The job, finances ... this will all work itself out. My main goal, in the meantime, is to not eat that stress. Which brings me to anxiety source #2: I'm terrified about getting back to Chicago and still being in a bad place health-wise.

If I were maintaining my weight due to an inexplicable plateau, that would be one thing. But I know why the scale has hardly left the 190s since moving here: I've all but entirely relapsed into my old addiction, using food to soothe emotional hurt, trying to feed emotional hunger with something other than love and support. I've put on the bravest face I could, and it's been increasingly difficult lately to hide the fact that I feel so completely broken. I believe that a lot of this is situational, that the stress of the year and the stress of my second move in ten months and the stress of a few family issues is wearing me down. Still, I find myself concerned that it isn't.

I'm nervous about getting to Chicago and still bingeing. And I'm especially nervous because so many of the people I love are there, and I'm scared of enabling them. Of continuing to slip, and pulling them down with me.

It was certainly something I talked about with Claire in San Francisco - she has struggled this year too, especially while working through physical therapy for an injured back. And she assured me that she wouldn't let it happen, that she isn't afraid to remove harmful elements (people included) from her life. Still, I worry. And I worry about Matt, who has been doing incredibly well lately - I don't want to derail his progress by skipping runs or eating poorly. We're running a half at the end of July, we need to stay focused on our goals.

And I not only have the half, but my full marathon in October. And I want to look and feel my best that day, and every day leading up to it.

So, I'm making a challenge for myself, and I'm inviting whoever would like to participate to join in.

There are exactly one hundred days between my arrival in Chicago (June 29) and the marathon (October 7).

My goal for the hundred days is to be binge-free.

I want to make sure that I am focused and healthy, especially in the three months or so leading up to the race. When I initially started getting healthy, I did everything in my power to stop the binges, and weight loss followed. It was as if the weight loss was just a side effect, a pleasant result of taking control of my addiction and investing in my physical and mental health.

I'm ready to get back to that happiness, to that feeling of satisfaction. I am ready to get serious, and to get back on the path to recovery.

For anyone else who'd like to participate, I challenge you to commit to something for one hundred days. It could be no binges. It could be going vegetarian. It could be writing down something you're grateful for every day (I will be doing that as well!). It could be logging a certain number of workouts, of miles, of steps. Anything! Just find something you'd like to try, and give it one hundred days.

I am going to do a special Hundred Day Challenge post every ten days with updates on the goal. I look forward to sharing my progress with you all - the accountability of public challenges like this has helped me so much in the past.

What about you? What would you like to challenge yourself to do for one hundred days?