27.

That’s my age. As of today. 27. I usually love birthdays; birthdays, for me, are a valid and reasonable excuse to take the day off from work, pig out, be lazy, and do whatever the hell I feel like doing. My birthday is a free day. It’s also the day I make resolutions for the rest of the year. It’s my actual New Years’ Day.

27 is weird. 26 was hard enough; I had to come to grips with the fact that I was on the downward slide into the dreaded 3-0, so scary that the 3 and the 0 cannot be in such close proximity as to be adjacent. Yikes. What do I have to show for the past 20 + 7 years of my existence? I am not famous, I am not rich, I am not skinny (although I am still healthier than I was two years ago). I don’t love my job, nor do I love my adopted city anymore (sorry, Seattle, but it’s true). My life is in a state of flux as I’m trying to lose weight again and move my non-skinny ass to San Francisco.

I did, however, get a new workout outfit yesterday:

The pants and the jacket are new. I like the jacket because it has zippered pockets and is warm and rainproof… plus, it was on sale. Happy birthday to ME.

Anyway. Today, instead of indulging in the aforementioned lazyassness, I went for a 10-mile-long walk, right on the heels (no pun intended) of my 13-mile walk yesterday. I’ve decided I’m a hardcore walker, apparently. I opened an account on DailyMile and have committed to updating it. Now, here’s the logic: I’ve been working out every day (just about), for an hour a day, in the fancy new gym. I spend half an hour on the elliptical, then fifteen minutes on the treadmill at 4 mph, then fifteen minutes on the stationary bike, or some other combination that totals an hour. I’ve been doing this for the past month, plus a low-calorie diet, and my pants still don’t fit. Whaaaa?

Okay, so, look at my legs in those pants. There’s a little fat, sure, but that’s mostly muscle. They’re getting bulky. Ugh. No more elliptical. It’s all walking from here on out. My legs do not need any help being bulky, thankyouverymuch.

This, by the way, is how much I walked today.

Enough of that…

Time to decide on my goals for this year!

1. Move to San Francisco, ideally by September.

2. Lose 20-ish lbs by the time I move to San Francisco; a.k.a., look like this again:

3. Walk at least 35 miles per week. Totally doable, since I can already easily walk 6 miles a day.

4. Finally learn how to budget… or win the lottery. Preferably the latter. Although gambling probably doesn’t fit too well with fulfilling the former. Kind of a flaw in the plan.

5. Keep my remaining plants alive. Poor plants.

6. Make more of an effort with general upkeep: get mani/pedis, schedule hair appointments before my hair becomes an unstyleable mess, clean my apartment at least once a week (including vacuuming the couch and dusting), etc. Maintenance is a good thing. Grown-ups do it.

7. Have a better attitude at work. They may annoy me and I may not want to be there, but I have to make better use of my time until I get to leave. I feel better when I make an effort.

8. Make more of an effort to spend time with my remaining friends in Seattle before I leave them for good. The ones that haven’t flaked out on me are the keepers, they deserve the effort.

9. Start refocusing my energy on hobbies I’ve neglected, like music.

Okay, I was going for 27 goals, but it turns out I only have 9. Overall goal: be better. The end.

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I love healthy food blogs.

Pictures of food… people writing about food… people writing about getting healthy… it all makes me so happy. It also provides a welcome distraction during my otherwise hectic workday.

I’m doing another juice fast today. It was either that or make a lunch and bring it into the lunch meeting I had at work (complete with the requisite pizza and not-too-healthy salad). I chose the juice fast because my leafy greens were in danger of going bad, and there were just too many to eat all in one day, so I juiced them. Juicers are handy like that.

Honestly, I wasn’t even tempted by the pizza today. I occasionally have weak, pizza-craving tendencies, but after seeing what eating all that cheese did to my skin (major breakout, ick), the whole idea of eating that much cheese is really off-putting. Also, the grease, and the bread. I really prefer thin crust – better yet, cornmeal crust, and I like more gourmet-like pizzas, the kind that contain things like goat cheese and pesto and spinach. Mmmm. That kind of pizza would have been tempting. But, snob that I am, mozzarella and pepperoni on a thick, starchy, white flour crust did not tempt me into submission.

It looks like it’s shaping up to be a beautiful day today, but that’s based on the view from my office window. I’m sure once I venture outside that it will be quite chilly, like it was yesterday. I’m so sick of winter. It doesn’t even matter that it’s the second day of spring; it’s still winter in Seattle. Bleh.

I’ve been preoccupied with planning my birthday festivities this week, to the point where it’s difficult to think about anything else. My mom will be here on Friday afternoon and wants to finally meet some of my coworkers (last time she was here, I had just been promoted and didn’t want to be parading my mommy around the office – all my colleagues are at least fifteen years older and I was trying to avoid drawing attention to my already glaringly obvious youth. Seriously. I’m also younger than my employees). The birthday party is on Saturday – a larger-than-expected group of friends and I are going to karaoke. We’re talking serious karaoke, because that’s how I roll. I was putting together my setlist during the lunch meeting. It’s just too bad I’ll probably have to share the mic – one of the many disadvantages of inviting so many people to karaoke.

The challenge this weekend will be to continue eating well. I already plan on doing another juice fast at some point next week, because I know how my mom usually influences my eating habits; the key will be not going overboard. I have to remember how much better I feel when I eat the way I’ve been eating: salmon, veggies, fruit, eggs, no bread, no pasta, no rice (I know it’s gluten free, but it’s one of the things I tend to overeat because it’s not exactly nutrient-rich). Of course, I’m fully prepared to indulge on Saturday night. I have yet to decide whether to order delicious specialty cocktails or stick to my favorite new low-calorie drink, Diet Coke and vanilla vodka (surprisingly good – tastes like a root beer float, I think, although it’s been ages since I’ve had a root beer float). Diet Coke, I know, is not great, nutrition-wise, but I’ve never been a big soda drinker, so I don’t think it will hurt me. I will, however, accept suggestions on slightly more sophisticated low-calorie drinks. Another one I’ve heard of is Diet Sprite & vodka (is it Diet Sprite or Sprite Zero? Am I getting my fizzy clear sodas confused?), but apparently bars in Seattle have a hard time stocking diet sodas. Anyway, the point is, if I keep it low-calorie I can drink more without as much guilt. Something to ponder.

Okay. At this point I’m just rambling, and I keep snoozing a reminder, so I should probably get going on the thing it’s reminding me to do. Back to work!