Have you ever had the kind of week where it's just like . . . . ughhh, please be over?!
I can't really say that anything horrible happened. There were no flat tires, no weight gains, not major work crises. My boyfriend and I are slowly sifting through some of the issues between us, and getting back to a place where it feels good to be together. Everything just feels like . . . work right now.
I know what a privilege it is for me to work this hard. I know that what I do in the gym matters. I know that planning my meals makes a difference. I know how lucky I am to be able to feed myself with healthy food in this country that has so many families struggling to feed themselves and resorting to processed cheap stuff. I know that I shouldn't complain about having a job that pays the bills. I know also that having someone who loves me and who is willing to work on the things that need attention and revamping is no small thing. I just feel so, so tired that everything is so time consuming right now. It's hard to keep being psyched about all of it. I feel like I keep moving my focus and gaze; I'll put a spot light on my eating for a week, and it will go well, and then I'll move the spotlight to my exercise the next week, and that will go well but the eating will slip a little, and then the next week my focus will be on my relationship and my feelings, and then my eating and exercise will start to go all wonky . . . I feel like there isn't enough of me to attend to all of the parts of me right now and that is frustrating. It's all well and good for me to tell my boss, "If everything is a priority then nothing is a priority," but I struggle when that prophecy comes true in my life.
If I'm allowed to whine a little bit more, I just want to sleep. I want a whole day where I do nothing but sleep, drink really tasty flavored Perrier, and read. And then sleep some more. I want a day where I get to eat pizza and not think about it. And I want a day that's all about me, not about anyone else and what they need from me. I don't want to be greedy so all of those things can happen on the same day. I'll condense so as to allow others to have their magical days - I assume magical days are a zero sum game and that there's only so many to go around, you see. The thing is, in order to have this magical day, I need an eight day in the week, because there are 5 days a week where I need to work really hard, and 6 days a week where I have to work out really hard. And then I'm all out of days.
A lot of what is fueling my down mood this week is that my running has been sucking a lot of suckage. When my friends were here, just two weeks ago, I jog/walked 2.5 miles in less than 30 minutes. This week, getting through 2 miles has been awful. There is something wrong with my calves, but since I'm not a "real" runner, I don't know what it is. the backs of my calves feel hard and puffy, and if I touch them, it feels like they are bruised. But they're not. (Does anyone know what this is?) It weirds me out that I can feel pain as though it's on the surface but not see the cause. Worse, this seems to be resulting in a return of my bad, bad foot problems that had been disappearing. The last couple of runs, my feet have cramped up so bad that they went numb and tingly.I am missing the feeling of simple, brute accomplishment I was getting from completing run and progressing in speed and endurance. No, I still don't get the "rush" my runner friend is always on about, but I do feel like I've done something real and tangible after I run. With everything else in my life being such a long, drawn out THING right now, I don't often get to have a good result right away - you can't get that from eating chicken and broccoli, you don't get an instant warm fuzzy from having a hard conversation with a loved one, and let me tell you, while database reviews need to get done at work, there is nothing immediately gratifying about them. So, I kind of - gasp, dare I say it - miss having a good run in my life right now.
It's a weird but true fact that when things are going well, I just expect them to keep going that way. I don't always think about what it takes to keep things going well, though I try to think deeply about what are the things that made a day or a week good. I think in this case, I just have to look at the things I have committed myself to, make sure they are still the things I want to do, and that they leave room for other things I love, and decide if I need a break from anything. Certainly part of this is about work - because I worked a ton on the road in September, I have a ton of office work to catch up on, and still not quite enough time to do it because October's normal travel schedule wasn't built around the idea of making up for the lack of office time in September. It's hard to work long days, every single day, for two months straight. It's harder still to have no days where I sleep in, and to be constantly trying to force an hour or more of exercise into my schedule during this busy time. It has often meant I roll out of bed very early, head into the office and then take a lunch break at a weird time in order to walk, run, or lift.
I find that when I'm tired and run down, my commitment to a lot of things wanes. I feel less excited about time with friends, about getting work done, about working out, and certainly eating right becomes very difficult. I definitely have found that my appetite is often not the predictor of when my healthy eating habits crack, but rather how tired and run down I am. It's hard to balance the need to keep going, do more, against the need to slow down and rest so that you don't crack in your resolve.
For that reason, after a long day at work yesterday, I chose to place more importance on spending time with two of my good friends and really slow down, not worrying as much about schedules and committments. I probably should have been in the gym, but it felt like it was really needed to stop being part of the machine. So, I had a beer, and a salad, and a run through Colorado's #1 haunted house (and yes, I mean a run. There were places that were sooooo creepy) and then back to my friend's house to listen to music and talk about plans for the upcoming Halloween party. Then I slept for a full eight hours, and soon I will go get my hair done and head out to a casual wedding reception. I know I need this time by the level of frustration and disenchantment I have with everything right now - as a for instance, I was so tired yesterday that I thought, "Ummm, maybe I just won't go out for food and the haunted house." And then I stood outside myself and thought,"Wait, you really want to do this, you're just tired. Go!" I also know the challenge is to not turn this little 1 day break into a bad habit of not doing what I need to do.
But for today, hallelujah, I feel like I got enough sleep and I'm looking forward to the fall weather and a chance to see a few people I like, and then who knows, maybe some more sleep. Fingers crossed that getting some rest and talking to my trainer will help me find the answer to how to get my mojo back in running - who knew that losing that groove would effect me so much?!
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
Honesty, Part 2
Six weeks ago, as a new blogger I wrote this post about honesty with myself. I'm fundamentally very, very attached to my honesty and my ability to say what is true, even if it isn't received well by others. So I explored how that would feel if I turned that honesty on myself. It felt a little uncomfortable, but not painful. In this post I got a small taste of how others must experience me - the uncompromising high standards are probably intimidating. I guess my honesty is too. A good friend pointed out yesterday that anyone with issues probably feels a little concerned or intimidated by the fact that I am very open and honest, because they know their issues will be exposed.
It was an eye-opening conversation for me. On the one hand, I'm not going to stop being honest, but on the other hand I don't want that penchant for speaking out about hard things to be mistaken for a lack of empathy, or worse, some kind of blind spot about my own issues. I take it as a given that my issues are up for grabs too - I mean, I started a blog about them - but I also recognize that if I appear intimidating, then it's probably doesn't seem like I'm approachable on those subjects. My sister told me that when she reads my blog she feels like she's trespassing on my private diary (I reassured her that I have a journal I wrote in just for myself and I'm aware that this is published and read by others) but at the same time, writing about me isn't enough to make sure I'm just as open to being honest about me as I am about others. I have to speak it too.
I often give people the impression that I'm very open. I think this happens because I answer questions very openly. There isn't much I won't talk about in terms of theme or subject - my childhood, my dad's death, sex, you name it. I'll answer it. This often gives people a false sense of knowing me deeply and/or that I am an open book. I remember last year during my scary-but-wonderful singing class my teacher trying to help me perform with more emotional openness saying, "I don't believe this performance. You need to show me more inside." I responded saying something to the effect of I didn't know how to do that and she said, very lovingly, "But I know you! You're an expressive person when you talk. You're very emotional and open!." She wasn't wrong but what I thought was, "Yeah, you THINK you know me, but there's a lot you don't know." Because I am expressive and talk a lot about feelings and reactions, because I talk with my hands and have animated facial expressions, because there are few taboo subjects with me, people frequently get a false sense of closeness with me. I don't mean to mislead them. I'm not trying to lead people down a garden path. It's more that I give a lot up front, but conceal important truths and feelings to keep myself safe. I described this once to another student in the class as being a real estate agent showing a house. I'll invite you in, tell you to look around, invite you to enjoy the open house food I've laid out and encourage you to ask any questions you have. But I'll just conveniently leave out that the house is haunted, or some other important detail.
The need to be more honest to other people, about myself, out loud, was never more clear than when I met with my trainer yesterday. This was the first time seeing him since I saw the dietician last week. I was medically referred by my doctor after messing up my body and my eating with the diet plan that could never work for me (silly Christie, diets where people lose large amounts of weight are for other people!). I didn't think anything about going, but after getting my new eating plan from her, I wanted to share it with my trainer. I texted him as I was leaving the office and said, "Saw the dietician today! Have lots to share - looking forward to Sunday."
When I ran into my friend who also works with the same trainer, she said, "So, you saw a nutritionist?" Since I don't really know the difference between a nutritionist and a dietician I said, "Yep. I really like her." And my friend said, "Well, that's great. Just a question for you. What about (insert our trainer's name here.)" In my brain it made this noise, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." All of a sudden I realized, CRAP! I totally didn't talk about this with him! And he might want in on this to make sure we're all on the same page.
I was medically referred, yes, and there's nothing wrong with me going, but if my goals with him are weight loss, then he needs to know about my medical status and diet; just like when I met with the dietiician I brought info about my diagnosis and medications, as well as about my workouts with him. That door has to swing both ways since the goals are the same in all three consultations. I had given him the impression that everything was transparent between us by conveniently leaving out that the house was haunted, or more specifically, that I was medically compromised and that's why I needed to see someone.
Actually, being more honest about it means saying this: I changed my eating drastically without telling him or my doctor when I went on that plan. I don't have to search hard to find that the reason I did that is because I didn't want to hear cautions or reasons not to go on that plan. I wanted to focus on the 50+ pounds my friends had lost. I wanted, no I needed, to believe that that could happen to me too if I was just committed and disciplined.
My trainer said to me, "I'm not sorry you went, and it sounds like the information and structure you got is helpful. I want to talk to you more about it while we work out. But I also want to make sure you know I could have done that for you too." He thought for a minute while he was setting up kettlebells for me and finished up with, "When I got your text I was a little surprised."
I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I know. I realized that after. I'm sorry. I know you can do this too, but I need as much structure as I can get. My doctor medically referred me because I messed up in July and August. I went way too low with my calories so I lost fast and then stopped losing at all, and that's a warning sign. And my labs were awful. Ahe waved them in front of me and basically said, despite being the nicest, sweetest little Indian lady, 'what the hell are you doing? This is a mess!' I think you should be pissed, but be pissed that I changed my eating drastically then and didn't consult you. It just feels like I'm always on the extreme ends of the spectrum with my eating, and I don't know how to find the middle point on my own." That was all deeply honest, but if I was plumbing the depths of this story I would also have said this: I am a food addict, but self aware enough to know I sabotage myself. That means there's hope for me to find recovery, but it also means when I mess up I feel not just like someone out of control, but like a bad person. It's very painful for me to go through these last few months having to fee my feelings during things that are really hard in my professional and personal life, and all I want to do is buy frozen pizza and Cheezits and pull the proverbial covers up over my head. But if I do that, I'm faced with the feelings of failure and being unworthy of love. I need help. From wherever I can get it.
I think he senses what a struggle this is for me, not just the weight loss, but talking about it because what he said was very firm, but compassionate. "I wish you had told me your labs were bad. In one sense, talking with your doctor is separate, but in another sense, if I had known that I could have done things differently. You don't have to tell me about your labs and doctor's appointments but if you do we can work together better. "
I said that I wanted to share my food logs with him, and have him be involved in that. He gently said,
"You can tell me the medical doctor stuff too." He's not wrong. By leaving things out of the conversation, I wasn't dishonest, but I wasn't honest either. I was avoiding his help because I didn't want to hear that what I did was wrong, or that what I wanted wasn't possible. I didn't know that this plan wouldn't work for me, but I knew that not talking about it with him was a bad idea. So much for the idea that I'm completely open and honest when it counts.
If I want to get better, if I want to like myself more and be more worthy of my own love, I need to be willing to, as a 12 step program says, "make a fearless and searching moral inventory and quickly admit wrongs." I was wrong to pay my trainer to help me get stronger and thinner but not tell him I had changed my eating. I was wrong to not tell him when my doctor discovered my body was crashing and burning on the inside. I was wrong not to tell him that I had been referred to a dietician. I was probably also wrong to not tell him the full truth about me as I know it now and to hold back on saying, "I'm really messed up on the inside, and for the first time I see a way to try and make it better." I was wrong to let him spend the last 3.5 months thinking he knew what was going on with me, and thinking that I was being open with him. Clearly, I'm not as strong on honesty as I like to think when I can so easily leave things out of the conversation to avoid things I don't want to hear.
Yesterday was a wake up call for me. When we sat down and he looked through some of the items from the dietician he said, "Well, I would like to be involved in this stuff with you even though i know you have a plan laid out with her (the dietician) too. "
I said, "Yes, I need you to look at my food log every week. I need all the accountability I can get because I mess up and it becomes a slippery slope really quickly and then I feel like I'm failing at life."
"Well, if you want to use me for accountability, you need to tell me these things. Just sayin'"
So true. Good talk.
It was an eye-opening conversation for me. On the one hand, I'm not going to stop being honest, but on the other hand I don't want that penchant for speaking out about hard things to be mistaken for a lack of empathy, or worse, some kind of blind spot about my own issues. I take it as a given that my issues are up for grabs too - I mean, I started a blog about them - but I also recognize that if I appear intimidating, then it's probably doesn't seem like I'm approachable on those subjects. My sister told me that when she reads my blog she feels like she's trespassing on my private diary (I reassured her that I have a journal I wrote in just for myself and I'm aware that this is published and read by others) but at the same time, writing about me isn't enough to make sure I'm just as open to being honest about me as I am about others. I have to speak it too.
I often give people the impression that I'm very open. I think this happens because I answer questions very openly. There isn't much I won't talk about in terms of theme or subject - my childhood, my dad's death, sex, you name it. I'll answer it. This often gives people a false sense of knowing me deeply and/or that I am an open book. I remember last year during my scary-but-wonderful singing class my teacher trying to help me perform with more emotional openness saying, "I don't believe this performance. You need to show me more inside." I responded saying something to the effect of I didn't know how to do that and she said, very lovingly, "But I know you! You're an expressive person when you talk. You're very emotional and open!." She wasn't wrong but what I thought was, "Yeah, you THINK you know me, but there's a lot you don't know." Because I am expressive and talk a lot about feelings and reactions, because I talk with my hands and have animated facial expressions, because there are few taboo subjects with me, people frequently get a false sense of closeness with me. I don't mean to mislead them. I'm not trying to lead people down a garden path. It's more that I give a lot up front, but conceal important truths and feelings to keep myself safe. I described this once to another student in the class as being a real estate agent showing a house. I'll invite you in, tell you to look around, invite you to enjoy the open house food I've laid out and encourage you to ask any questions you have. But I'll just conveniently leave out that the house is haunted, or some other important detail.
The need to be more honest to other people, about myself, out loud, was never more clear than when I met with my trainer yesterday. This was the first time seeing him since I saw the dietician last week. I was medically referred by my doctor after messing up my body and my eating with the diet plan that could never work for me (silly Christie, diets where people lose large amounts of weight are for other people!). I didn't think anything about going, but after getting my new eating plan from her, I wanted to share it with my trainer. I texted him as I was leaving the office and said, "Saw the dietician today! Have lots to share - looking forward to Sunday."
When I ran into my friend who also works with the same trainer, she said, "So, you saw a nutritionist?" Since I don't really know the difference between a nutritionist and a dietician I said, "Yep. I really like her." And my friend said, "Well, that's great. Just a question for you. What about (insert our trainer's name here.)" In my brain it made this noise, "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." All of a sudden I realized, CRAP! I totally didn't talk about this with him! And he might want in on this to make sure we're all on the same page.
I was medically referred, yes, and there's nothing wrong with me going, but if my goals with him are weight loss, then he needs to know about my medical status and diet; just like when I met with the dietiician I brought info about my diagnosis and medications, as well as about my workouts with him. That door has to swing both ways since the goals are the same in all three consultations. I had given him the impression that everything was transparent between us by conveniently leaving out that the house was haunted, or more specifically, that I was medically compromised and that's why I needed to see someone.
Actually, being more honest about it means saying this: I changed my eating drastically without telling him or my doctor when I went on that plan. I don't have to search hard to find that the reason I did that is because I didn't want to hear cautions or reasons not to go on that plan. I wanted to focus on the 50+ pounds my friends had lost. I wanted, no I needed, to believe that that could happen to me too if I was just committed and disciplined.
My trainer said to me, "I'm not sorry you went, and it sounds like the information and structure you got is helpful. I want to talk to you more about it while we work out. But I also want to make sure you know I could have done that for you too." He thought for a minute while he was setting up kettlebells for me and finished up with, "When I got your text I was a little surprised."
I looked him straight in the eye and said, "I know. I realized that after. I'm sorry. I know you can do this too, but I need as much structure as I can get. My doctor medically referred me because I messed up in July and August. I went way too low with my calories so I lost fast and then stopped losing at all, and that's a warning sign. And my labs were awful. Ahe waved them in front of me and basically said, despite being the nicest, sweetest little Indian lady, 'what the hell are you doing? This is a mess!' I think you should be pissed, but be pissed that I changed my eating drastically then and didn't consult you. It just feels like I'm always on the extreme ends of the spectrum with my eating, and I don't know how to find the middle point on my own." That was all deeply honest, but if I was plumbing the depths of this story I would also have said this: I am a food addict, but self aware enough to know I sabotage myself. That means there's hope for me to find recovery, but it also means when I mess up I feel not just like someone out of control, but like a bad person. It's very painful for me to go through these last few months having to fee my feelings during things that are really hard in my professional and personal life, and all I want to do is buy frozen pizza and Cheezits and pull the proverbial covers up over my head. But if I do that, I'm faced with the feelings of failure and being unworthy of love. I need help. From wherever I can get it.
I think he senses what a struggle this is for me, not just the weight loss, but talking about it because what he said was very firm, but compassionate. "I wish you had told me your labs were bad. In one sense, talking with your doctor is separate, but in another sense, if I had known that I could have done things differently. You don't have to tell me about your labs and doctor's appointments but if you do we can work together better. "
I said that I wanted to share my food logs with him, and have him be involved in that. He gently said,
"You can tell me the medical doctor stuff too." He's not wrong. By leaving things out of the conversation, I wasn't dishonest, but I wasn't honest either. I was avoiding his help because I didn't want to hear that what I did was wrong, or that what I wanted wasn't possible. I didn't know that this plan wouldn't work for me, but I knew that not talking about it with him was a bad idea. So much for the idea that I'm completely open and honest when it counts.
If I want to get better, if I want to like myself more and be more worthy of my own love, I need to be willing to, as a 12 step program says, "make a fearless and searching moral inventory and quickly admit wrongs." I was wrong to pay my trainer to help me get stronger and thinner but not tell him I had changed my eating. I was wrong to not tell him when my doctor discovered my body was crashing and burning on the inside. I was wrong not to tell him that I had been referred to a dietician. I was probably also wrong to not tell him the full truth about me as I know it now and to hold back on saying, "I'm really messed up on the inside, and for the first time I see a way to try and make it better." I was wrong to let him spend the last 3.5 months thinking he knew what was going on with me, and thinking that I was being open with him. Clearly, I'm not as strong on honesty as I like to think when I can so easily leave things out of the conversation to avoid things I don't want to hear.
Yesterday was a wake up call for me. When we sat down and he looked through some of the items from the dietician he said, "Well, I would like to be involved in this stuff with you even though i know you have a plan laid out with her (the dietician) too. "
I said, "Yes, I need you to look at my food log every week. I need all the accountability I can get because I mess up and it becomes a slippery slope really quickly and then I feel like I'm failing at life."
"Well, if you want to use me for accountability, you need to tell me these things. Just sayin'"
So true. Good talk.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
zombies
Today is something of a holiday for me. Today ends 44 weeks of waiting. Today the long awaited season two of Walking Dead starts. (eeeeeeeeee!)
I know I have mentioned my love of zombies before, but I don't think I've explained why zombies cause me to grow as excited as small children get around bowls of chocolate. (In fact, all of my food addictions and love of carbs aside, I would rather watch zombies than eat a magical bowl of delicious and yet calorie free chocolate)
Zombies quite simply, are phenomenally fascinating. Of course, there is something kind of supernatural about them, but they aren't all airbrushed and pretend-sexy-scary like the vampires. You know what I'm talking about. (That fakeness and feeling of being in a magazine shoot doesn't do it for me.) And yet, zombies are the dead become undead. How beautifully brill.
They're gross and gory, so there's a lot of adrenaline involved in watching them. And while all of that is great, what is even better is the cognitive paradox they represent. Depending on which movie or show you're watching, there are fast zombies or slow zombies. Some zombies can climb, and some cannot. Some zombies have the presence to pursue or chase, and some can't. But they all share one important trait: they are mindless. Not brain-less, but mindless. They can't remember their name, speak, or formulate a plan more complicated than a goldfish would make. But they're still moving. And eating. Well, they're eating whenever they can get their hands on some flesh. (eeeeeeeeeeeeee!)
Zombies are one of the clearest ways to illustrate the important distinction that cognitive scientists make between the brain and the mind. The brain is an organ that but the mind is the living computer that allows us to make complex calculations, learn, and distinguishes us from other species. I sometimes describe this difference as the brain being the wet and mushy stuff in our skull that does biological stuff and the mind being the tool that allows us to figure shit out via sophisticated processing. But my wonderful Cognitive Scientist friend boiled it down much more elegantly: the brain is what zombies want to eat, while the mind is what they lack.
And yet, do you know how to kill the undead?
Yes, that's right. The way to stop a zombie for good is to cause a serious, often severing, brain trauma. Shot to the head, decapitation, baseball bat repeatedly sunk into the forehead. What an awesome paradox for someone as nerdy as me.
I also have a hankering to be entertained by "end of the world" stories. Stephen King's The Stand, yep, read it three times. Disease outbreaks sweeping the planet? I'm there. Giant meteorite, sign me up. One of my best birthdays was when a friend took me out for dinner, and then we went to see, The day after tomorrow. It. was. awful. I mean - awesome. It was awfesome. Aliens, disease, famine, force of nature, government conspiracy, I enjoy them all. I love the end of the world because the story isn't just about the apocalypse, but also about the people left, their survival and whether or not the better angels of their nature prevail.
For me, zombies are the best, most entertaining example of this. Someone asked me once if my excitement and deep knowledge of zombies came from a real fear and belief that the zombie apocalypse might happen. Umm, no. I think zombies are a Hollywood way of saying, "We fear ourselves." But, for me, the stories that seem to really stick with me are the ones that really focus on the survivors and the difficult and dark places that decisions and morality go, but also the beautiful and uplifting examples of people trying not to lose their humanity. Nothing seems to bring this out for me quite as memorably or heart-tuggingly than the juxtaposition of people trying to make it while trying to survive the uprising of former-and-now-flesh-eating-people.
My love of zombies goes deep enough to have put serious thought into how they can function biologically but not have mind. I once spent an entire weekend writing down theories about how different agents/events could cause zombies and selectively strike their mind, but spare their brain. Yes, I am that much of a geek, and a zombie enthusiast. I had some pretty good theories too, and found out, with not that much work, that there have been "scholarly" publications about the cognition of zombies. Ahh, academia, how I love thee.
I also have spent a lot of time thinking about survival in the zombie apocalypse. I didn't realize how well formulated my plans were until last spring when my cousin posted something on Facebook. He asked if it would be ok to leave somebody behind in a zombie apocalypse, if it meant saving yourself. I answered that that question had more than moral overtones. Of course, morally speaking, it would be hard to sleep at night if you left your friend to be munched on (though with zombies on the loose it would probably be hard to sleep at night anyways), but there's a more important and less altruistic thing to consider: surviving the first wave of the apocalypse usually depends a lot on luck, location, and timing. But surviving the second wave is almost always dictated by things beyond luck such as having more of something - shelter, food, fuel, people. So, save people!!! What followed was a rolling Facebook conversation between me, my friends, my cousin, and my cousin's friends about how to survive zombies. We discussed optimal locations (remote mountains, warehouses, and army installations were most mentioned), how to gather food (don't forget water! Very important!), the best modes of transportation (horses are great for all terrain, but not for escaping hordes of flesh eating undead. Tanks are awesome for driving over the masses of zombies, but not so good if you want to be somewhere remote. Motorcycles . . . have a lot of maneuvering pros, but a lot of vulnerability cons. My mother suggests a dragon. Yes, A DRAGON.), and some other items. I raised the point that after civilization dies other problems arise. Simple things become less simple, such as common illnesses and appendicitis. It's important to stockpile medication and find someone who can act as a doctor. Also, people seem to like to get it on at the end of the world, and when running for your lives from zombies is not the ideal time to be knocked up. One of my other cousins (we have 19 first cousins on my mother's side) remarked that zombies must love pregnant chics because it's like an appetizer and an entree (ha!). Stockpile birth control, peeps. It was an awesome conversation.
As you can see, zombies are a BIG DEAL for me. So much so that I once drove from Central Jersey to Albany to see the opening of Dawn of the Dead with my fabulous Cognitive Scientist friend, who loves zombies as much as I do. So when AMC started making The Walking Dead really the only bad thing was that Season 1 was only 6 episodes long. (Luckily Season 2 is contracted for 13 episodes.)
Ittttttt'sssss baaaaaaa-aaaack! Yay, Walking Dead! Honestly, it's not just that I love zombies so much, though I do. It's also that nothing on TV is as well done as this show. My love for the West Wing still knows no bounds. But it ended 5 years ago, and though I mourn the loss, we all have to move on. Don't get me wrong, I like me some bad reality TV from time to time, and I watch a couple of other shows when I can keep up, but, this show, mmmmm. This show is produced at the level of a movie, which really shouldn't be surprising given that Frank Darabont is writing and producing most episodes, and he was hugely influential in the writing and direction of my favorite movie of all time. This show is moving, emotional, a heart-racing thriller, and an unrelenting exploration of humanity's highs and lows. We loves it, precious.
In honor of tonight's important event, I re-watched the last season, talked my mom into watching Season 1 (after informing her that, no, there would not be any dragons, and yes, she would have to endure some gritty plots, some complicated characters, and yes, some gore), and I plan to celebrate with some popcorn. I know that popcorn is a dangerous food for me, but I'd like to believe I can have foods that I like and not descend into mindless eating. I am not a zombie, after all. So, we'll see if I can enjoy zombies without becoming an undead-like-eater on my couch. I've been on my new eating plan for 5 days, and am feeling like I have some idea of how to fit foods in, and how to eat them in moderation. I won't know for sure how I handle this until I try it, so I have to try it. I can't let the zombies do all the eating, eh?
In other news, today is a real occasion. Someone whom I love very much turns 30. Welcome to the next decade, dude. I love you and hope this next year is everything you want and need it to be.
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Post Script - it has been suggested that I "tossed off" comments about The West Wing. Let me be clear. My love for the this show is unending. I feel the work the cast, crew and writers did in this show shattered the supposed limits of TV. It elevated television based drama to a new level, it changed the conversation about politics, at least in my circle, and it educated me. At turns, it amused me, devastated me, and taught me; sometimes all in the same episode (this episode is a particularly good example of that special blend of humor, drama, and information). I was hooked on this show within two episodes. I wrote my same fabulous Cognitive Scientist friend after he sent me a video with the same two episodes and said, "Damn you! Now I'm hooked on this show and don't have cable!" I love, love, love The West Wing. I miss, miss, miss The West Wing. What is important to note is that I have been interested in TV since then but never until The Walking Dead did I have anything that came close. Thank god someone finally found the right cast, with the right story line otherwise I might've sank beneath the weight of bad hospital shows!
I know I have mentioned my love of zombies before, but I don't think I've explained why zombies cause me to grow as excited as small children get around bowls of chocolate. (In fact, all of my food addictions and love of carbs aside, I would rather watch zombies than eat a magical bowl of delicious and yet calorie free chocolate)
Zombies quite simply, are phenomenally fascinating. Of course, there is something kind of supernatural about them, but they aren't all airbrushed and pretend-sexy-scary like the vampires. You know what I'm talking about. (That fakeness and feeling of being in a magazine shoot doesn't do it for me.) And yet, zombies are the dead become undead. How beautifully brill.
They're gross and gory, so there's a lot of adrenaline involved in watching them. And while all of that is great, what is even better is the cognitive paradox they represent. Depending on which movie or show you're watching, there are fast zombies or slow zombies. Some zombies can climb, and some cannot. Some zombies have the presence to pursue or chase, and some can't. But they all share one important trait: they are mindless. Not brain-less, but mindless. They can't remember their name, speak, or formulate a plan more complicated than a goldfish would make. But they're still moving. And eating. Well, they're eating whenever they can get their hands on some flesh. (eeeeeeeeeeeeee!)
Zombies are one of the clearest ways to illustrate the important distinction that cognitive scientists make between the brain and the mind. The brain is an organ that but the mind is the living computer that allows us to make complex calculations, learn, and distinguishes us from other species. I sometimes describe this difference as the brain being the wet and mushy stuff in our skull that does biological stuff and the mind being the tool that allows us to figure shit out via sophisticated processing. But my wonderful Cognitive Scientist friend boiled it down much more elegantly: the brain is what zombies want to eat, while the mind is what they lack.
And yet, do you know how to kill the undead?
Yes, that's right. The way to stop a zombie for good is to cause a serious, often severing, brain trauma. Shot to the head, decapitation, baseball bat repeatedly sunk into the forehead. What an awesome paradox for someone as nerdy as me.
I also have a hankering to be entertained by "end of the world" stories. Stephen King's The Stand, yep, read it three times. Disease outbreaks sweeping the planet? I'm there. Giant meteorite, sign me up. One of my best birthdays was when a friend took me out for dinner, and then we went to see, The day after tomorrow. It. was. awful. I mean - awesome. It was awfesome. Aliens, disease, famine, force of nature, government conspiracy, I enjoy them all. I love the end of the world because the story isn't just about the apocalypse, but also about the people left, their survival and whether or not the better angels of their nature prevail.
For me, zombies are the best, most entertaining example of this. Someone asked me once if my excitement and deep knowledge of zombies came from a real fear and belief that the zombie apocalypse might happen. Umm, no. I think zombies are a Hollywood way of saying, "We fear ourselves." But, for me, the stories that seem to really stick with me are the ones that really focus on the survivors and the difficult and dark places that decisions and morality go, but also the beautiful and uplifting examples of people trying not to lose their humanity. Nothing seems to bring this out for me quite as memorably or heart-tuggingly than the juxtaposition of people trying to make it while trying to survive the uprising of former-and-now-flesh-eating-people.
My love of zombies goes deep enough to have put serious thought into how they can function biologically but not have mind. I once spent an entire weekend writing down theories about how different agents/events could cause zombies and selectively strike their mind, but spare their brain. Yes, I am that much of a geek, and a zombie enthusiast. I had some pretty good theories too, and found out, with not that much work, that there have been "scholarly" publications about the cognition of zombies. Ahh, academia, how I love thee.
I also have spent a lot of time thinking about survival in the zombie apocalypse. I didn't realize how well formulated my plans were until last spring when my cousin posted something on Facebook. He asked if it would be ok to leave somebody behind in a zombie apocalypse, if it meant saving yourself. I answered that that question had more than moral overtones. Of course, morally speaking, it would be hard to sleep at night if you left your friend to be munched on (though with zombies on the loose it would probably be hard to sleep at night anyways), but there's a more important and less altruistic thing to consider: surviving the first wave of the apocalypse usually depends a lot on luck, location, and timing. But surviving the second wave is almost always dictated by things beyond luck such as having more of something - shelter, food, fuel, people. So, save people!!! What followed was a rolling Facebook conversation between me, my friends, my cousin, and my cousin's friends about how to survive zombies. We discussed optimal locations (remote mountains, warehouses, and army installations were most mentioned), how to gather food (don't forget water! Very important!), the best modes of transportation (horses are great for all terrain, but not for escaping hordes of flesh eating undead. Tanks are awesome for driving over the masses of zombies, but not so good if you want to be somewhere remote. Motorcycles . . . have a lot of maneuvering pros, but a lot of vulnerability cons. My mother suggests a dragon. Yes, A DRAGON.), and some other items. I raised the point that after civilization dies other problems arise. Simple things become less simple, such as common illnesses and appendicitis. It's important to stockpile medication and find someone who can act as a doctor. Also, people seem to like to get it on at the end of the world, and when running for your lives from zombies is not the ideal time to be knocked up. One of my other cousins (we have 19 first cousins on my mother's side) remarked that zombies must love pregnant chics because it's like an appetizer and an entree (ha!). Stockpile birth control, peeps. It was an awesome conversation.
As you can see, zombies are a BIG DEAL for me. So much so that I once drove from Central Jersey to Albany to see the opening of Dawn of the Dead with my fabulous Cognitive Scientist friend, who loves zombies as much as I do. So when AMC started making The Walking Dead really the only bad thing was that Season 1 was only 6 episodes long. (Luckily Season 2 is contracted for 13 episodes.)
Ittttttt'sssss baaaaaaa-aaaack! Yay, Walking Dead! Honestly, it's not just that I love zombies so much, though I do. It's also that nothing on TV is as well done as this show. My love for the West Wing still knows no bounds. But it ended 5 years ago, and though I mourn the loss, we all have to move on. Don't get me wrong, I like me some bad reality TV from time to time, and I watch a couple of other shows when I can keep up, but, this show, mmmmm. This show is produced at the level of a movie, which really shouldn't be surprising given that Frank Darabont is writing and producing most episodes, and he was hugely influential in the writing and direction of my favorite movie of all time. This show is moving, emotional, a heart-racing thriller, and an unrelenting exploration of humanity's highs and lows. We loves it, precious.
In honor of tonight's important event, I re-watched the last season, talked my mom into watching Season 1 (after informing her that, no, there would not be any dragons, and yes, she would have to endure some gritty plots, some complicated characters, and yes, some gore), and I plan to celebrate with some popcorn. I know that popcorn is a dangerous food for me, but I'd like to believe I can have foods that I like and not descend into mindless eating. I am not a zombie, after all. So, we'll see if I can enjoy zombies without becoming an undead-like-eater on my couch. I've been on my new eating plan for 5 days, and am feeling like I have some idea of how to fit foods in, and how to eat them in moderation. I won't know for sure how I handle this until I try it, so I have to try it. I can't let the zombies do all the eating, eh?
In other news, today is a real occasion. Someone whom I love very much turns 30. Welcome to the next decade, dude. I love you and hope this next year is everything you want and need it to be.
------------------------------------
Post Script - it has been suggested that I "tossed off" comments about The West Wing. Let me be clear. My love for the this show is unending. I feel the work the cast, crew and writers did in this show shattered the supposed limits of TV. It elevated television based drama to a new level, it changed the conversation about politics, at least in my circle, and it educated me. At turns, it amused me, devastated me, and taught me; sometimes all in the same episode (this episode is a particularly good example of that special blend of humor, drama, and information). I was hooked on this show within two episodes. I wrote my same fabulous Cognitive Scientist friend after he sent me a video with the same two episodes and said, "Damn you! Now I'm hooked on this show and don't have cable!" I love, love, love The West Wing. I miss, miss, miss The West Wing. What is important to note is that I have been interested in TV since then but never until The Walking Dead did I have anything that came close. Thank god someone finally found the right cast, with the right story line otherwise I might've sank beneath the weight of bad hospital shows!
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