Where Am I Anyway?

Where am I? I thought I left Chicago behind weeks ago and yet the cold weather seems to have followed me. I enjoyed the crisp windy city for five days the last week of December, knowing I would return to the sunshine state (Florida) where warm weather is promised day in and day out – except now. I have been home for weeks and this weather has not let up. I believe the mind and the spirit control the body and make change. How can I apply this theory to Antarctica weather in south Florida?

I woke this morning to 33 degrees and a wind-chill factor of 22. The air is crisp, rain is falling in sleets, a dark gloomy cast is upon us. Yep, Chicago weather followed me. I am freezing – ran the heat 13 days straight – seems almost surreal as I have not used the heater in years. When I turned it on it smoked the first five minutes resembling the smell of burnt dirty socks.

Now, why did I move from Chicago May 1986? I recall standing on the El downtown Chicago waiting for my train. It was March and blistering cold. I looked up to the heavens and claimed out loud I was moving to Florida in May to never be cold again. To feel the warm air hug me even in the evening hour strolls along the beach; yet, here I am in the sunshine state breaking the coldest streak in 43 years!

It is evident I never did like the cold. My bones ache, I feel down and depressed and I am looking for hot anything to sip on. In fact, chili is cooking in the crock pot as I write. Exercise is foreign these last few days. Last time I biked I was layered in clothes, wearing thermal ware, gloves, and a hat...and wishing for ear muffs, which most Florida people do not even know what they are. I biked to an almost desolate beach. Work is no respite either, my office is an icebox. No heater there –hands are numb writing progress notes.

Even Sage ( my 75 pound white German Shepard) voluntarily went into her house most of the day curled in a small pretzel as far back as she could position herself, which reminds me of myself pressing my body close to my husband who emits heat like an oven. Thank you God – no need for an electric blanket as my husband serves as a personal heater – my 7 hour respite from the cold.

A Florida wimp I am. It is cold, raining, and very dark and gloomy out. I feel the same. I miss the sun! SAD (Season Affective Disorder) is very real. I pray for sun and warmth tomorrow, my sunshine state , as I know it, to hold true to its name, and the world will be right again. I will jump on my bike – ride the beach and feel one with nature. Although I believe mind and spirit control the body, I backtrack when my body is cold. I need warm thoughts to change the outcome. For now, I'll employ the fake it till you make it mentality.

Chicago Bound...and Back....

I spent the past few days in Chicago. Today is my Dad's 83rd birthday and he continues to work his empire. I am amazed at his strength, motivation, and continuous vision.

Sitting on the plane with my handsome 20 year old son, headed for Chicago in honor of my father’s 83rd birthday, I found myself sandwiched between my son and an adorable, but severely overweight college girl. I was her...once upon a time. As I was settling into my seat, arranging my carry-on with ease, I realized how difficult it was back in the days when my weight was peaked out at 234 pounds. I am flying Spirit airlines, which is known for great economical prices, but also very small seats!

I realized, snug in my seat, how far my life has come. There was a time I would have purchased muffins, candy bars, chips, and coffee before even boarding the plane just to have my “stash” of goodies for the ride. Today, I still need my stash of food, but the nutrients are quite different. I am toting homemade apple-raspberry muffins and a decaffeinated coffee. A far cry from where I had been not so long ago.

I feel snug no longer worried about my last binge, future diet, or future binge. I have my routine in place, always vigilant regarding what is my food, and what is not: never taking chances. While waiting at the airport terminal, I observed so many scurrying to get doughnuts, coffee, muffins (not my “natural” sugar-free muffins). I could see the familiar urgency and frenzy written over their faces and body language. I wondered if they were plotting the upcoming diet, if the guilt and shame set in, or if they were at the euphoric state we addicts reach on the first bite of gooey chocolate laden treat.

As the plane began descending, I embraced the thought of 3 days in Chicago with my family of origin. There will be parties and dinners to attend, and I will partake in all of the festivities, but the difference will be no flour, sugar, or wheat, for me. I will walk in the morning, strolling near lake Michigan observing the neighborhood mansions for my a.m. routine exercise. I will ring in Dad’s 83rd birthday conscious and present, rather than numbed out on sugar, flour, and wheat. This trip was a friendly reminder of where I have been and where I am, and where I am headed. Life is delicious.

Sitting at the airport on my return to Ft. Lauderdale, Florida I am snug and full of joy. My trip was very good. I enjoyed family and what it represents. I did not dream about foods I was not eating, or wishing to eat, or feeling guilty for having eaten them. I am with my fresh salad, topped with chunks of chicken and lemon knowing another day is closing clean and healthy. I have learned to be prepared for my trips and work my routine. The rest is easy. My father and his siblings are all elderly, but you would not know. They are healthy, vibrant, and still working a strong and prosperous business. I have learned many of my good habits from watching them. And of course some things I have to step away from them…like eating the sweets, breads, and pastas…all a part of the Italian way.