Last day of my practicum

Today is the final day of my 3 years of practicum. To celebrate, I will do a WAIS-III, WMS-III and an MMPI-II. Then I will come home and go to a new years eve party.

Tonight is totally my kind of party: three families, all with kids around the same ages who have known each other their whole lives... literally. I met the two other women at a so-called playgroup nine years ago when our oldest children couldn't even sit up yet. Those should be called get-desparate-new-moms-out-of-the-house groups. But anyway, one of the couples recently had the opportunity to buy a super-cool, historic Colorado Springs house for a relative song, and that is where we are going to be.

On the menu: Turducken. A turkey stuffed with a duck stuffed with a chicken, with the remaining cavities stuffed with some sort of saugsage type thing. I looked that shit up online and it is like, 1700 calories per serveing, with 110 grams of fat. A few different sites agree on this. Yipes.

Tomorrow, no more excuses. My weight still is too high and, even though I am feeling better about myself since joining the Y and lifting more, I still need those numbers on the scale to come down. Please do not mistake this as a new years resolution. It is not. Rather, it is a return to the healthier eating that I seem to have at least somewhat abandoned.

Five minutes to Samadhi

Started up my meditation practice again. Five minutes first thing in the morning. I understand that I have little chance of entering a state of samadhi in five minutes, but that is all I can muster up enthusiasm for at this point.

About a year ago I meditated for five minutes a day, then brought it up to ten, then eleven. I never got higher than 11. In fact, I stopped altogether.

Two summers ago when I went to Baron Baptiste's teacher training level 1 bootcamp he had us meditate daily for 30 minutes. Frankly, it was excruciating. I know that meditation is about stillness. And I knew that he was going to spend the rest of the day working our assess off, and that I should enjoy the time of stillness. We would sit in virasana. First my legs would go numb. Then I'd have to think about that for a while, until I would allow myself to shift into simple crosslegged pose. Then I'd be okay for a while. Then I would have to start to move. I mollified myself by telling myself that I was doing yoga, because I did a kind of Kundalini-inspired grind from the waist. In both directions, of course. Plus, I figured that everyone had their eyes closed, and whoever was looking around and could see me was "cheating," too. Then I could usually be still for a while more until Baron would come in and start yapping away, which he basically did for the rest of the day.

I know that all of that restlessness is the first step to stillness. I do. But at this point in my life, with grad school to be finished and kids to be raised and dissertations to be written and stairs to be climbed and weights to be lifted and marathons to be run and yoga to be practiced and lunches to be made and carpools to be driven and homework that needs help and dinner to be cooked all in time for bedtime, I just can't do it right now. That stillness isn't within me. And yes, I know that fidgety busy people like me are supposed to do restorative yoga and calming postures to balance our doshas. Oh well. Not going to happen anytime soon. So in the meantime, I'm bucking for samadhi in 5.

Honor thy Father and Mother

My parents have been visiting from NJ since December 19th. Today is December 29th. That is too long. If they stayed at a hotel, it would be better. If they had their own car and took off and did various things on their own, that would be better. If they didn't open a bottle of wine every night with dinner that I subsequently drink too much of, that would be better. If they didn't get my kids all riled up so that they can't go to sleep until 10 pm every night, despite my requests to the contrary, it would be better. Instead they stay at my house, hang out with us nonstop, work my kids up and I end up getting so tense that I think I am retaining about 5 pounds of extra water. Well, I'm retaining water anyway. Not sure what is to blame for that, but it's not helping matters that all my clothes are too tight. But seriously, I know you release cortisol when you are stressed and that cortisol makes you gain weight. How else to explain my (literally) overnight 3 pound weight gain. And I am very short-- 4'9"-- so 3 pounds is enough to make my clothes tight enough to be uncomfortable.But I love my parents, and I feel bad that I am not better able to enjoy their visits. I'm not sure why this is.

We were at the Denver Art Museum the other day and I was looking at a work of art that consisted of column upon column of the artist's random thoughts over a few years. At one point he talks about how much he misses his dad, who died a year earlier. He notes that he had never been able to really have a good relationship with his dad, and said that despite having a great dad, he had been "a bit of a snot son."

That resonated with me a lot regarding my relationship with my mom. I think I am a bit of a snot daughter. I would like to have an adult relationship with my mom, yet the part of me that was endlessly criticized as a child and made to feel that nothing I did was ever good enough resists it. I think it is fear of letting her in. I have made a life here in Colorado that make me happy. But if I let her in, I risk their comments about how it is not the life they had in mind for me--although the impending PsyD is certainly helping smooth that one over. Yet all of this leaves me stuck in limbo, in that place where I regress to acting like an adolescent around her. And a snotty one, at that. And not liking myself. And drinking too much.

But I have been climbing lots of stairs in preparation for the Run the Republic stair climb on Feb 24th. And that has been fun, and a change from running, on which I am temporarily burned out. I doubt that will last long. Pretty much every winter I lose my running focus for a while and do indoor things-- until I remember how much I love the sunlight and start running again. But in the meantime I have a noble indoor goal, which is making me happy.

Michael Jackson's new plastic surgery

I know nothing about Michael Jackson's new plastic surgery, if in fact he has had one. But, see, I thought I'd mention it because I want to get people to read this blog, and maybe people who are putting that into a search engine will find this.
Okay. So mabye I'm using poor MJ. But I'm sure he's had it worse.

Handed in my disseratation proposal today and met with the yoga teacher who is going to run the class. Got a scholarship to attend the Symposium on Yoga Therapy and Research conference in March. Lots is going on and lots is good.

Up, up and... more up

I signed up yesterday to Run The Republicon Feb 24th This 53 story stair climb in Denver to benefit the American Lung Association has climbers tackling the tallest building in the Rocky Mountain west. Which isn't saying all that much, because I think the competition for tallest building in that region comes from, like, Sheridan Wyoming. The tallest building in Colorado Springs has 14 floors. I read that you don't go anaerobic until about floor 30, so I may just have to try to approximate that on the stairmill at the Y or doing sprints or something. But I am planning on hitting that staircase in the near future.

Want to sponsor me? Go to http://www.mrsnv.com/evt/e01/part.jsp?rid=728420&id=1761&acct=0503206973

I invented the hot toddy

I wanted a drink this afternoon when I came home from leading a training in the intelligence assessments WAIS-IV and WMS-IV, for which I am part of the norming sample administration. It was a lot of fun (dork-alert). I wanted a drink when I came home, but it's 17 dark and windy degrees here, so the usual martini wasn't very appealing. I boiled some water thinking I'd make a cup of fruity tea and add in something. Opened the liquor cabinet and saw the high-end made-in-Jamaica rum my parents brought me from Puerto Rico and decided to splash some of that into my cup of hot water. Added a little bit of stevia. Yummy. Out of curiousity I decided to look up what went into a hot toddy. And lo and behold... that is what I had made. Of course, normal people use sugar, not stevia. But don't get so nitpicky.

Joke's on Me

I woke up this morning feeling bloaty and, lo and behold, I weight 1.5 lbs more than I did yesterday morning. I am VERY short, so a pound and a half is a big difference. Pants may not fit so well today. And I feel yuckky.
So this is what you get for rejoicing in others' misery.
I know, I know, it's not real weight gain, it's just the wine or the saltier-than-usual dinner or that final brownie that was supposed to go in the pretty tin as a thank you for my kids' teachers. But still.

Cat woman?

Maybe I look like Jocelyn Wildenstein in this photo. Yes? No?

Happy happy joy joy

I just came back from my children's school musical presenation, which was basically a Christmas extravaganza with a small tip of the hat to diversity in the name of one Chanukkah song. But what do I expect, living in Colorado Springs, land of James Dobson, New Life Church and all that comes with it. In all fairness, this is really a pretty cool town.
I have fallen back in love with the White Stripes Get Behind Me Satan. And not just because it's that time of year.
Someone in my grad program told me that the average woman in the program gains 25 pounds, with a few gaining as much as 50. OUCH. I have been kinda sorta on a diet lately and kinda sorta starting to feel better about myself. I'm not sure whether hearing a statistic like that makes me feel better or worse. I feel better in the sense that I haven't gained as much as everyone else (schadenfreude, perhaps?). But worse that I'm just one of the many. But then again, it is one more reason to grant myself some grace in this area. And keep on working.
Since I've started working out with weights at the Y I am actually starting to feel better. My yoga practice is suffering, because there are only so many hours in the day, and only so many of them that I can spend working out. But I love it, and feel stronger and more toned. Then someone like hot Steph walks in and it all comes crashing down. And I have to start all over again.
I've been thinking about the doorbell.

Rock Canyon Blows

Actually, Rock Canyon rocks. But the wind was blowing at 34 miles per hour for today's 1/2 marathon in Pueblo, CO, which definitely added to the challenge. Not quite as challenging as last year, when there were 6 inches of ice and snow pack on the trail and there was a race day blizzard. Finished today in 2:03, which is far off my PR (1:47) and not even a good average time for me these days. But what the heck. Another 13.1 miles under my belt. Good fun.

Village people

My gym used to be World Gym. There were old people, young people, strong people and not-so-fit people. There were bodybuilders and gangbangers, college professors, real estate agents and housewives. There was yoga and cardio classes and daycare. It was good, and I was happy there. Then it changed to Planet Fitness, which is a so-called judgement free zone and where I have never felt so judged. No daycare. No classes. No heavy weights. No grunting policy. I don't grunt when I work out, but I definitely object to a place that says it doesn't judge but RINGS AN ALARM if someone grunts or drops weights or does anything else the management finds objectionable. So I had to stop going. So I got weak and flabby. But, as of this weekend, I am now a proud member of the Pikes Peak YMCA. Hooray. Daycare. Classes. Old people. Young people. strong and weak and fat people. And, as an extra added bonus, crazy people, too. I will lift again. I will be happy.

Help Wanted

Any yoga researchers out there want to dialogue about yoga as a treatment? About binge eating disorder? About how to write a dissertation?

I am busily working on my proposal, with the intention of getting it to the IRB before their next meeting in December. It's kind of fun to actually be getting this done.

Japanese Joy, Sanskrit samurai

I love sake. I am drinking some right now. In fact, because I am trying to watch my weight I am kind of having sake instead of having dinner. Although, good wife and mom that I am, I served my family a well-balanced meal that no one seemed to notice I barely ate.

I love alcoholic beverages. I really love martinis (vodka with olives) and every so often I like to drink scotch. I like red wine and white wine. Much to the horror of vinophiles everywhere, sometimes I like to put ice in my white wine. Perhaps it makes me declasse, but it also makes me happy.

I like silly drinks like margaritas and cosmos and stuff that you put umbrellas in but I don't drink those all that often because of the calorie count, to be perfectly honest.

I spend the morning-- indeed, the better part of the last ten days-- preparing my internship application. I am mostly applying to work with either criminal or elderly populations. Perhaps both at the same time. Like the criminal elderly. Lots of cool opportunities. I hope I get one. Many people applying for a few spots, which does concern me but there's not much more I can do than put out the best application possible.

Happily, I finished in time to do Mantra Girl's version of the Kundalini warrior workout before my kids came home from school. I love Kundalini. The elementary school roster (of all places) has a listing placed by a local Kundalini instructor. Contacting her is definitely on my to-do list, although admittedly not high on it at this point.

Tomorrow I need to print out all 130 pages of the application and send it off to the appropriate parties. Then I will hit the Title Nine sale in town. I think I'll dig up a leotard to wear so I can try things on with abandon. Kind of like Filene's Basement in the good old days.

Ode to Britney

Oops I did it again. Let's leave it at that.

Parent education day

Today is parent education day at my daughter's Sunday school class. Hmmm. There are so many things about which I could be educated.

Have been so busy actually working on my dissertation that I kind of forgot I had a blog about the whole thing. It is definitely a daunting process, this year-long paper. I have still not even handed in my proposal and I have over 50 pages written. But I need the first 3 chapters done to hand in the proposal, and I'm getting there, so I have hope. It's kind of cool, actually: the first 3 chapters sets up the whole thing. Chapter one is your idea and why you think it's a good one. Chap 2 is a literature review of all that has been done on the topic already. For me that means a review of existing treatments for binge eating disorder and a review of how yoga has been used as a treatment for mental illness.

Chapter three is methods-- how you plan to get your data. This is the part on which I have done the least work so far. I have to get a yoga teacher who is willing to work with me for little to no money. I have to find a studio that will let me use their place. I need to come up with the assessment instruments I will give my subjects before and after the intervention (yes, these cost money as well). I need to figure out how I will crunch the numbers once I've gotten all of my data. Unfortunately (more for him than me), the guy at my school who helps students out with all of this just had a heart attack. Which doesn't make me feel any better about all this number crunching stuff.

Once you've gotten all that finished you submit to the IRB (institutional review board), and then, once you get approved, off you go on actual data collection and the real fun starts. For me this means:
1.recruiting subjects, probably through newspaper ads.
2. Praying people respond and I get subjects.
3. assessing potential subjects to see whether they have binge eating disorder.
4. administering a small battery of assessments to subjects
5. Overseeing a 10 week yoga class and running a cognitive behavioral group after yoga with half of the participants.
6. readministering assessments.
7. Crunching numbers.
8. Writing up my results
9. Making any changes my committee recommends.
10. Defending.

THere you have it. A doctoral dissertation in 10 easy steps.


Found out that I had low estrogen so now I am on birth control pills to regulate my hormones. Pros: hormones are regulated. Cons: Gained weight. Pros: Gained weight in boobs. Cons: gained weight everywhere else, too. Pros: haven't made myself puke in a while, although I'm not sure how much this has to do with my estrogen level.

So I read in the newspaper that laptops are not made for the heavy use they get as home computers and can overheat. The author suggested putting a cake cooling rack under your laptop to help keep heat from building up. I had a cooling rack downstairs in the kitchen so I am giving it a try. Makes typing kind of bouncy.



Then I found out I need to submit applications for my internship which will start next August by Thursday, so that put the dissertation on hold for a while.

a confession

All I seem to be able to do these days is eat too much sugar and fat, drink too much alcohol, and build on my self-hatred. This is not what I want to do. This is not what the yogic wanna-be enlightened part of me wants to do. This is not what the wanna-be mentally healthy practice-what-you-preach therapist part of me wants to do. This is not what the wanna-be super-athlete part of me wants to do. But this is very much what some primitive part of me wants, yearns, longs to do. This is what I am almost driven to doing. I am very comfortable feeling like I'm fat and hating myself for it. I'm not comfortable lauding myself for my accomplishments.
Recent accomplishements:
*Came up with an even better idea for my dissertation-- have I even mentioned my topic? It is yoga as a component of treatment for binge eating disorder. No, I don't have binge eating disorder. Enough said on that topic right now. So my latest idea is to run two groups. One will do yoga and then go home. The other will do yoga and then participate in a group that cognitively processes what they have done, with the intention that it will help translate what they have done in class to be applicable in real life. Either way, I think yoga will help people become more aware of their bodies, more able to tolerate strong affect and thus better able to control their binges.
*Ran 12 miles on Saturday and then rode 6 miles to the race for the cure on Sunday, ran 5k then rode back home. Did Mantra girls' kundalini yoga warrior workout today (Monday), then helped coach my kids's cross country team. This weekend I will do a 20 mile run in preparation for the Denver marathon on Oct 14th. That will be my 15th marathon.
Bla bla bla. I do a lot. But I am more comfortable hating myself. So I am now going to pour another glass of Cabernet and bake a cake-- apple cake for the Jewish new year, Rosh Hashanah, which starts on Wednesday night.

menopause

Okay, so this isn't about my dissertation at all. Well, okay, fine, here it is: I spent the morning researching treatment for binge eating disorder. Have I even mentioned my topic yet? It is yoga as a component of treatment for binge eating disorder. But I don't want to talk about that right now. This is what I want to talk about:
*I am 41 years old and I made myself puke tonight for the third time this month. Will I ever grow out of this? I am not a binge eater. I kind of binge, although not an objective DSM-IV-TR binge. But I kind of love to purge. I never get even half as purged as I'd like, though.
*My husband who never has sex with me even though I think I am okay sexy for a really short kind of middle aged chick left town again for three days without so much as a kiss goodbye. I wonder how I'd do if I were out on the market again...
*I forget but there was something else that felt rather urgent but now I forget, thanks to 1/2 bottle of wine.

Oh yeah, menopause. So I'm 41 years old and I haven' t had my period in at least 9 months. I'm not really sure how long it's been because I didn't notice at first when I skipped a month or two but then all of a sudden it occurred to me that I hadn't had it in a long time. I have an appointment with my OB in a few weeks. So I'll see what he has to say. Yes I run and bike and lift and do yoga but NO I am so not a fanatic so amenorreah doesn't seem a viable option. I wish I were thin enough to claim that. IN fact, I am getting fatter and fatter. It is really amazing to me, the back fat and saddlebags and all kinds of shit.


Is anyone reading this?

On the clock

I met with my advisor yesterday and we set some deadlines. Hooray! This gives me focus, which I like. I was finding myself uncomfortably focus-less and kind of agitated about this whole thing.

For 10 years I earned a living as a journalist, so freaking out about writing my dissertation doesn't make a lot of sense to me. I enjoy writing. I enjoy research. I think it's the fact that this isn't just some article or 10 page paper for a class but my DISSERTATION that has me on edge. But setting deadlines is kind of calming. It breaks down what needs to be done and gives me something to work for.


My Hypothesis: Doing yoga will help people with binge eating disorder increase their ability to tolerate strong affect, increase their body awareness and body responsiveness and, as a result, reduce incidences of binging.

First deadline topic: research all existing treatmtents for binge eating disorder.

First post

And so I enter the age of blogging.

This is the year I will write my dissertation. That's right. It is my absolute intent to finish my doctoral disseration this year. So, by next August I will be done with my dissertation. The more I say it the more I commit to my dissertation being done in a year, which would be next August, 2009. So, by then I will finish my disseration, go on to internship and, finally, be awarded my PsyD.

Kind of a weird time to start a blog, considering I should spend all my writing time working on ... my dissertation. But I have a feeling I may need another writing outlet along the way.

I was supposed to start the project today, and in a way I did, because I wrote a very short paper of tangential merit. But I feel so uninspired. Suddenly my beloved topic seems boring. Suddenly I lack all focus.

Hence this blog. Next: my topic.