By Rachel Sauer
Monday, March 10, 2014
It's the kale.
The kale! Why do I keep buying the kale? I'm never going to eat it, I don't like it and regardless of whether I make a stab at kale chips (which tasted like emptiness and disappointment) or try blending it into a protein smoothie (and I know I say this from the extremely blessed position of someone who's never known hunger, but: I'd sooner eat gravel than try that again), I don't want the kale!
Yet it keeps ending up in my basket.
Perhaps it's because I spend too much time on the internet and end up reading all these swooning odes to kale. So healthful! So full of sulfurophane and carotenoids and omega-3! Whatever those are!
So, I give in to impulse and hastily made
lies vows to Improve My Diet, take the kale home and ashamedly throw it away two weeks later.
Apart from the terrible sin of wasting food — and I really do believe it's a sin — there's the waste of money. I despair to think of how much green I've thrown away. I don't think Colorado National Bank will allow me to deposit my good intentions into my savings account.
Thus, I've branched out during my three months of not spending money on unnecessary things into considering the groceries.
Specifically, the kale. And any kind of yogurt that's not the two kinds I eat. And raw cashews, with which I tell myself I'm going to make cashew milk (I'm not). And fat-free feta, which is terrible. And immoderate amounts of bananas.
I'm all for trying new things, I'm all for healthy eating, but good grief. I negate all the good I do shopping sales and with coupons by impulsively buying things that I know, in my heart of hearts, I'm never going to eat. Frozen edamame, for example.
Which leads me, however unrelatedly, to The Soda Issue. I am on and off the wagon with the diet soda. In fact, a correspondence:
Dear my dentist,
I might as well drink poison, I'm decalcifying my bones and teeth, I'm probably setting myself up for weight gain. I KNOW. I'm trying. It's just really hard because diet soda is delicious and makes me happy. But it's not necessary, since clean water comes reasonably priced — and fluoridated! — right out of my tap.
So, I've tried to use this three months of no unnecessary spending to kill my soda habit. It's worked... sporadically. I'll go a week without, then have this internal monologue at the grocery store: Do not put that soda in your basket, Rachel. Aargh, so naughty, take it out of the basket. OK, disobedient, save it for the weekend, then. Fine, just a little. Do not drink it all. Well, you drank it all. DO NOT buy more.
And so on. I know it's a waste of money. I'll try harder. Just like I'll try harder to be reasonable about what I'm spending on food — and I mean the food that I'll actually eat.
Sorry, kale. I'm sure somebody loves you.
By Rachel Sauer
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
You'd think I'd learn to stop congratulating myself, but nope, I'm always willing and ready to give myself a hearty pat on the back.
“Why, this whole not spending money thing is wonderful!” I've exclaimed to myself on more than one occasion. “Look how well I'm doing! Look at all this character I'm developing! I've got so much of it now I probably could share it with others!”
And that's usually when I end up having to buy a library book or fork over $25 to Mesa County for a late fee on my car registration.
And that's usually when I sigh until my lungs practically collapse and implore, “Why, Rachel? Why??”
As I'm being reminded over and over again in these three months of not spending money on unnecessary things, I'm not nearly as good with money as I like to commend myself for being.
Oh, I pay my bills on time; in fact, I'm vigilant to the point of neurotic about anything that will affect my credit score. I coddle that baby like the precious, precious Fabergé egg that it is and thus am a Gold Star On-Time Payer of anything that might seek to crack, damage or otherwise harm it.
But it's with other stuff that I can be a little blasé, a little forgetful. My car registration, for example. I got that little post card reminder in the mail, and I dutifully put it on top of my refrigerator, which it fell behind, and then I just kind of... forgot. So, I noticed one day that not only was I past the expiration, but I was past my month grace period.
Scampering to the county offices in a consuming panic, I paid the registration fee plus a $25 late fee. Twenty-five dollars! That I pretty much lit on fire, such was my wastefulness!
And that's not all: I lost a library book. This is something I've never done before. I am a champion library patron, and treasure libraries above most things, but somehow I lost track of a copy of Gregory McDonald's “Fletch,” which my brother-in-law long ago assured me is hilarious (it isn't, and I would send him a strongly worded text if he wasn't currently serving in Afghanistan and I want to, you know, Support the Troop).
Anyway, I searched and searched and couldn't find it anywhere, so I slunk to the library, confessed my sin and paid $7.63. The book had come from the Salida Public Library, so even if I did find it, it would be hard to get a reimbursement. So, that's $7.63 I might as well have set on fire. And as I'm sure you can guess, because I'm a tragic victim of irony, I found the book. And it was on my nightstand! A foot from my face every single night!
This is why I don't deserve to have money.
But my point in all this confession is that these three months have driven home the lesson of carefulness and mindfulness. As I've mentioned before, it's not that I'm never going to spend money on fun things, it's not that I want to live a life of absolute austerity. It's just that I don't want to waste money anymore.
I mean, I could have spent the $32.63 that I wasted on the late fee and the book on something fun. Something I actually want.
I'm just going to be more careful, is all. And I'm not going to take any more literary recommendations from my brother-in-law. I partly blame him for all this.
By Melinda Mawdsley
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Ann, Emily, Rachel and I are terrible people.
We haven't updated this blog in a while. For that, we apologize. The whole point of blogging about our efforts at change is a blog holds us accountable. Thanks to the reader who contacted us wondering what the heck our lazy butts were doing!
I'll take my turn. I'm sure the others will soon follow.
I am still lifting weights about 8 minutes once a week at Crossroads Fitness with my husband. Seriously, that's all I'm doing except for the occasional walk or hike. It's going fantastic! I'm noticeably stronger, particularly in my biceps and legs, but I'm also more flexible. The slow lifting is forcing my muscles to really stretch and lengthen. I'm loving it!
After this week, I'll sit down and really crunch numbers to post my strength gains in each of my five exercises.
I can report that I lifted 160 pounds on the leg press Saturday. It's the same weight my husband lifted. (To be fair, I have a HUGE advantage. I played catcher for a good chunk of my life. My legs are probably the strongest part of my body. They just are. His legs are probably the weakest point of his. He is smokin' me on several upper-body exercises.)
Weight lifting is a fantastic exercise for uber-competitive people like me. For the 90 seconds — if I max out — that I do each of my five exercises, I only focus on breathing and executing perfect form up and down. I don't listen to anything else. It's kind of relaxing.
I'll report back next week on my weight gains. Thanks for reading!
By Emily Shockley
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
It's been awhile since my last entry, so here's a few highlights of the gluten-free journey:
* I had my annual physical earlier this month and asked my doctor about going gluten free. She said the science is still unclear on the effects of gluten on a non-celiac person but she said it shouldn't be a detriment as long as I'm not losing out on the nutrients found in whole grains, like fiber. She said a common side effect for gluten-free people who don't get enough fiber after cutting out bread is constipation - no thank you.
* Gluten-free Valentine's Day included wine, risotto, chicken, kale salad and Betty Crocker gluten-free cupcakes for dessert. The new line of Betty Crocker gluten-free mixes is a great idea but I have to admit the yellow cake mix I got was kind of bland.
* I went to Denver over the weekend and gave myself leeway to eat gluten at one meal per day. It went OK. I didn't notice any drastic changes in digestion or any abdominal discomfort, but I did feel some heart burn the last of the three days. Not sure if there's a connection but I have heard it's possible for people with acid reflux (like me) to see some benefits from cutting gluten from their diet.
I realize how lucky I am that I can take a break from this diet - people with celiac disease have my admiration for having to keep it up 24/7 and even go to great lengths to avoid cross-contamination.
By Rachel Sauer
Monday, February 10, 2014
My last resort, bottom-of-the-barrel, desperate-times-desperate-measures justification for spending money has long been “at least it's not heroin.” As in, “OK fine, so I'm buying yet another pair of sandals, but at least it's not heroin.”
I have never bought drugs in my life, nor have I ever even considered trying heroin, but somehow it's become my default Very Bad Thing that I Could Be Spending Money on but Am Not. Ergo, look how sensible I am!
So, I almost pulled out the heroin justification last week.
On Tuesday, a band I really like released a new album, parts of which I'd listened to on their website a few months back. I liked the way it sounded, as much as I like their first album, so I meandered over to iTunes. Just to check if the album was there, you know.
Yep, there it was, $9.99 to download. It would be so, so, soooooo easy to click “Buy,” just one tiny downward movement of my index finger on the mouse.
And I wanted it. I wanted it! But I didn't need it.
Which is extremely frustrating. I'm striving for philosophical clarity in this three months of not spending money on unnecessary things, and it turns out that philosophical clarity
blows is difficult to attain. I've spent a lot of time considering my needs from their absolute most basic — I need the synapses firing in my brain, I need the breath of air in my lungs — and moving up: I need the roof over my head, I need the food in my stomach, I need the blanket I sleep under.
But the waters get murky so quickly. Sure, I need food, but do I need the boneless, skinless chicken breasts, or can I make do with the cheaper chicken and take the skin off myself? Sure, I need a roof, but how much house beneath it do I need?
I don't want to deny myself all material pleasure, because I do think there can be real joy in some of it and good grief, how much character do I need? But if I'm being honest, it doesn't take that much to make me happy.
Like new music! That makes me happy. Such a simple pleasure, and one of the great joys in my life, and it's not like I piddle all my money away on carousing and loose men, right? Right? It's not like I'm maxing out the ol' Discover card on Louboutins and Lhuilliers.
I live a simple life! One of moderation! One of coupons and savings accounts! Plus, $9.99 isn't very much. Hardly anything, really. I probably have that much change in my purse. And it's not like I'd be buying $9.99 worth of heroin!
I didn't buy the album. :(
But! I remembered the $10 gift certificate to Triple Play Records that I won a few months ago, nestled in my wallet and expiring in April. Now I'm strategizing how I can make up the difference on the price (sell something? pick up a freelance gig?), because while I don't need the album, I want it. At least I recognize the difference.