As I’ve mention before, she is a brilliant writer with an amazing mind. You can find her here every day and she is also a regular contributor to Purple Clover, a great e-magazine.
|If we’re feeling “edgy” how about a tete de mort scarf?|
I refuse to get on the scale. REFUSE. Non, non et non. But the truth is, I really don’t have to. My favorite jeans are speaking volumes at the moment and without a word.
Not only is this (unfortunate) fact a function of very tasty holidays – we ate quintessentially French and it was divine – but I’ve also been running low on sleep. This is nothing new for me, but it’s an irritating and recurring problem. When we’re sleep deprived, our bodies require more fuel. That means food, and not necessarily the healthiest of selections. We go for carbs, we increase our portions, and we gain weight.
Yours truly? I’ve been raiding the chips, the bread, the leftover brie.
Worse? I’ve gone six weeks – no, seven – without any strenuous exercise. I can chalk that up to a sprained ankle at Thanksgiving that is only now beginning to get back to normal. But it is better and I ought to be walking. Instead, I’m writing, I’m editing, I’m emailing. Yes, it’s work (and not); I can’t get myself motivated to put on the walking shoes and get my sorry assets out the door.
Should I put myself on a diet?
Non merci. I feel as though 40 years of my life were spent on a diet, and all that was accomplished is this: I wound up being fat! It was only when I stopped “dieting” that I trimmed down, stayed more or less a healthy weight for my height and age, and began to truly enjoy what I ate. I prefer a lifestyle of reasonable choices – including being reasonable with myself – and also tweaking recipes like Julia Child’s French Onion Soup to make them lighter, while still delicious.
Sadly, on occasion, the facts are staring me in the face: tight jeans, puffy cheeks, swollen eyes. Eh oui – no exercise and little sleep. Did I mention erratic eating to stay awake through the crazy hours? It’s a recipe for disaster, and as any woman of a certain age knows, we don’t drop pounds (or inches) as easily as we once did. More importantly if we don’t move our derrières in some fashion, we’re talking fesses that fall to gravity at a frightening rate.
May I mention that I have an 85-year-old French woman in my life to look up to- as an example? She walks daily, she eats well, and she’s still chic! (Incidentally, while she tends to wear black and grey, she also mixes things up with jewel tones.)
|Look at those cheekbones.|
But this isn’t about how we look; it is about how we feel. And speaking for myself, I feel better when I look better, and I look better when I feel better. It’s the perfect circular logic, n’est-ce pas? And the better we feel, the more we have to give – personally and professionally.
Malheureusement, logic isn’t getting me up out of my chair and moving, much less sleeping better or eating better.
So here’s where the beauty of color comes in.
|As you may already know, the Pantone color for 2014 is “Radiant Orchid” which is the theme throughout as you can see.|
Earlier this week, in a mad dash to the hair salon to paint those pesky grays, the woman who so kindly works her magic wore something other than black. It’s her usual, as it is mine – and possibly yours. On a dreary wintry day, she had donned a charcoal sweater with a touch of fuchsia and pink pattern at the neck. Gorgeous. This 50-something woman looked stunning, and her face was brightened immeasurably by the touch of rosy tones.
The next day? I wore red at my computer. I ate more sensibly and I felt better.
Memo To Self:
- “Dress” for the long workdays, though I’m in a home office.
- Remember to wear something other than black. At the very least – a colorful scarf.
- Do whatever it takes (including “say no”) to curb the tendency to work through the night.
What else am I reminding myself?After many years solo-with-kids, I have the privilege of loving and being loved by a French man. How to love a French man? Be kind, be real, be feminine, be appreciative, and in all things – balance.
Those horrid habits that assume no Domino Effect when we lose sleep or eat dreadfully – nibbling to stay awake and productive? Too much caffeine instead of exercise? So much work that there’s no time for a “life?”
A femme d’un certain age can’t afford to play those tricks with her body or her mind. I’m working to beat back my bad habits, and make this year about being kinder to myself – no drastic diets, no impossible expectations, but reasonable and moderate behavior to stay healthy and focused.
And I’m not getting on the scale, but I will pay attention to the necessary loosening of my favorite jeans.
It all sounds so simple, doesn’t it?
Naturellement, it’s not.
|Why stop at a scarf and a sweater when one can also have a pair of Radiant Orchid walking shoes?|
Okay. That’s the lazy woman’s easy excuse. I’m putting on my walking shoes. I’m going out the door… now.
© D. A. Wolf