Two Years

Two years ago today I woke up slightly hung over and extremely excited.
I got in the shower and took extra care shaving and scrubbing and afterword spent a more time applying lotion then I ever had in my life.

I got my things together, put on my very cute pink sundress and ate my breakfast while watching Teen Mom.

All the while answering 100 questions from my mom and battling a huge case of nerves with a can of Diet Pepsi (of course).

Then the limo arrived and me and 4 of my favorite friends and my mom were off to be beautified and pampered. All the while, I tried to ignore the rain.

From the spa we went to lunch and enjoyed salads, sandwiches and three different appetizers. I split a bud light with my best friend Erin in the limo.

And then the real fun began.

In front of 107 people, I married my best friend.
And it's been a whirlwind from that very moment on.....

Happy Anniversary Mr. Berg.
I love you!!

About Those Feet.....

Friday evening I went on another run around my neighborhood. It was glorious. I ran better then I had on Wednesday. Even though I'm still not an excellent runner, I felt good when I was done and my endurance was defiantely up.

Then came Saturday.
I woke up Saturday feeling fine. Mr. Berg and I ran a ton of errands and spent a good part of the afternoon in the basement and in the garage cleaning out for our upcoming yard sale this weekend.
I noticed then that my left foot kinda hurt. I didn't think too much of it because I had on super flat, super hard flip flops. I assumed that standing on on them and running up and down steps with them was causing my pain.

Saturday afternoon I tried to squeeze in a workout. 35 minutes of cardio. Nothing fancy.
My foot hurt!
It hurt bad!
Bad enough that while I did finish my workout, it wasn't pretty.

I took some advil after my post workout shower and monitored the situation.
I decided to take Sunday off and just let it rest.
Sunday I noticed a little bit of discomfort but didn't need need any pain mediciation. I also wore flip flops with excellent arch support.

This morning, my foot kinda hurts. Mostly in the arch area. I'm hesitant to workout but at the same time, I'm craving a good burn.

I guess we'll just take it day by day?
So, moral of the story, don't say you don't need your feet. You do infact, need your feet.

Where's the wine?

Anatomy of a J-Berg Run

Since starting the Couch 2 5k Program, I've become a bit of a running addict.

I started the program in May and have stuck to it. Granted, I am not as consistent as I'd like to be. My schedule only allows for so much. So I run when I can and I don't fret when I can't.

Wednesday was my first day back from a 6 day break. It was a mental battle between the good exerciser and the lazy ass that both live in my head. The run went something like this:

Warm Up:  Currently Playing: Laura Bell Bundy's Giddy on Up and OneRepublic's Good Life.

1st Run:  Slow Down, don't run so fast. You'll ware yourself out.
               Watch out for the kids on their bikes, they aren't watching you.
              Slow down!

1st Walk: Whew... good stuff

2nd Run: (Strides a little shorter, breathing a lot quicker, still smiling)

45 seconds prior to stopping point..... Can we walk yet?
                                   NO!

2nd Walk: Glad it's walking time

3rd Run: 1/2 Way There, We Can Do It!
45 seconds prior to stopping point...... Really, can we walk yet?
                              
                             NO!

3rd Walk: Thank you sweet Jesus!

4th Run: Okay we can do this, last one!
              Why are we running? We hate running
              Keep Pushing, We like running!
              I don't think so!
             Stick your pelvis out, the running article said you need to do that
             Who said that was a good idea? Whore run this way....
             Do whores run?
             Keep moving, pick those feet up! How would you know how whores run?
            F my feet, who needs feet
            For real, you just said you didn't need your feet? How the heck are you going to get home?
           Crawl.... I will crawl.....
           Almost done, almost there

Cool Down: I LOVE RUNNING.

Didn't I just hate my feet 2 minutes ago?

Reset

It's been a hell of a month.
Between Memorial Day at the shore, my first Jewish Funeral Experience and a wedding in Maine, I don't really know which end is up.

I tried to make healthy decisions when I could make them..... Local breweries visits = drink the water  beer.
I exercised every chance I got.... Walked my hiney off in Kennebunkport and then I ate pasta..... whoops.

I have no idea what the damage to my body is yet. I haven't stood on a scale since the end of May. But tomorrow I will.

And tomorrow, I will embrace whatever weight I am. And I will know I made every effort to try my best and I made every effort to enjoy my surroundings as well.

And tomorrow, I will hit the reset button.
I will refocus on the WW life style I embrace and love.
I will find new ways to incorporate healthy options in my diet.
I will revamp my exercise program... why be bored when you can run?
I will keep moving ahead, what's the point of sitting?

New Day, New Week

I found myself saying last night that I couldn't wait for this week to be over.
It occured to me this morning, that today is technically the start of a new week for me. Today is weigh in day.

Granted, I'm not stepping on the scale today.
Would you want to weigh in after spending a weekend at the beach and then three days in Jewish Funeral Land...... yeah, I didn't think so.

I don't see a point in setting myself up for the disapointment, after a week full of heartbreak.

Yesterday, I gave myself some space.
I tracked everything I ate. I stayed mostly within my points.... darn that second glass of wine.
I haven't worked out since last week. I didn't push myself to squeeze it in yesterday or Wednesday. It wouldn't have ended well.
That being said, today is a new day an a new week.

The weather here is beautiful. It's warm, the humidity to down and there isn't a cloud in the sky. I'm looking forward to an excellent run tonight followed up with 30 minutes of yoga. I need to get back on track. I hope doing my favorite excercises will help jump start me into getting there.

I have all my meals planned for until Wednesday at lunch time.
I have every workout planned for now until Wednesday.
I have every intention of weighing in on Wednesday morning.

Why Wednesday?
Mr. Berg and I are going out of town Wednesday evening for my best friend's wedding. We won't return until the following week.

So Wednesday is weigh in day.

And since a new month is here. I should be setting some new goals for myself.
Honestly, right now, goals seem a little over whelming. I don't think the stress of the past week is behind me.
So for now, my goals are this:

1. Get to goal weight
2. Cook beets. Since I still haven't gotten around to doing that.


Today I'm going to focus on today.
Tomorrow I'll focus on tomorrow.
Day by day.
Week by week.

Here we go.....

Back in the Swig of Things

Today is my first day back at my "normal life." You know- the one where I wake up in the morning and get ready for work and then I make myself breakfast and go to work..... The day continues with meetings, phone calls, organized chaos, etc.

I'm trying to embrace the normalise, except, today is anything but normal. My day as been unusually quiet. I'm fighting a really stiff neck and I'm trying to motivate myself without much in the way of success. Mr. Berg is out of town and I spent most of last night trying to sleep while Sophie chewed on my hair and tried to dig up the covers.

She used to be so easy to sleep with......
I had my usual breakfast this morning and even remembered to take my vitamins.
I also threw a load of towels in the washing machine and managed to throw my last load of wet clothes in the dryer.
If I remember I'll sort the rest out at lunch time....

All the while, there's a sad, heavy cloud hanging over my head.
I'm trying to be normal.... I'm not sure if I know how...

Uncle RB

The past 72 hours have been one very big blur.

Sunday evening Mr. Berg and I were sitting on the back porch of the shore house drinking strawberry daquiris with my parents when Mr. Berg recieved a text message.

I watch as he pulled the phone from his pocket and opened it.

"Who is it?", I asked without giving my question much thought.

The audable sigh that Mr. Berg let out in response caused me to pause.

"Uncle RB just passed away."

It was 9:30. Nearly an hour earlier the center of the Berg world has stopped spinning, and we were just finding out.

In the next 20 hours we would book Mr. Berg a plane ticket and a rental car. We pretended to sleep, and rose early to pack our bags and leave the shore. On the road home we booked my plane ticket, reserved a hotel room, spoke to family, and mentally repacked our suite cases. I made plans for Sophie and Bob's care and sent several emails to co-workers and friends asking for prayers, good thoughts and grace with my schedule.

It still wasn't real.

Our flight to Boston felt like a blink. Before we knew it were we checking into our hotel and driving to meet the rest of the family.
It still wasn't real.

That evening while Mr. Berg drove his cousin to the airport to pick up his wife and child, I sat in my hotel room and googled Jewish Funeral Customs. As a Presbyterian, I'm slightly behind the eight ball on these things.
Googled scared me. Was it okay if I wore make up? Were they going to rip my clothes? Did I have to look at the body? How many days were we going to sit Shiva?

Yet, it still wasn't real.

The next morning Mr. Berg and I dressed in our thrown together funeral clothes and drove to meet the family. All dressed in black or navy, we loaded into limos and found our way to the funeral home.

It still wasn't real.

The service was beautiful, his three oldest grandchildren age 12, 9 and 7 spoke at the funeral and told everyone their favorite memories.
His son and son-in-law spoke of his finer qualities, his sense of humor, his loyalty and his honesty. We cried, we laughed and we remembered.

The grave side service was brief and deep. I stood to the side and watch as a line formed to shovel dirt onto his coffin. I looked to my right and read the grave stones of the Bergs who had gone before him. It appeared he was in great company

It still wasn't real.

Later that afternoon I meet every living Berg in the New England Area. I played with the kids, I thanked people for coming. I complimented the potato salad and put coleslaw on my sandwich. I retold our wedding story about 90 times and pointed my husband out at every turn.

We remembered Uncle RB, we told stories, we laughed when we realized we were all saying the same thing. He would have loved the party, but he would have shown up late and left early.

As as the last sandwich tray was put away and the last sour pickle was eaten, we said our farewells and took part of the family back to Uncle RB's for the evening.

I spent my last moments in his house sitting in his easy chair with his youngest grandson. I kept hoping he would come around the corner and shew us out of his seat. I kept hoping to hear his laugh and for him to get cross with us for clearing all the expired food out of his fridge. In my head I kept hearing "Put that back, it's still good."

Even as we pulled out of the driveway, it wasn't real.

This morning Mr. Berg and I flew home and I helped his repack his suitcase for the third time as he left on a business trip.

I tidied up the house and got in my car to leave for work.

I was .2 miles out of our development when the tears began to fall.

It's real.


Uncle RB was my favorite member of the family on Mr. Berg's family. He was a balding, hunched over, little Jewish man. He smoked a pack a day and had the typical smokers cough and smokers laugh too.
And laugh he did. He had the driest, quirkiest sense of humor. He was a closeted Republican, he watched Judge Judy and always read the Sunday paper for the best deals.
He was famous for feeding his grand kids frosted flakes and m&ms for breakfast, devil dogs for lunch.

I spent 5 Thanksgivings staying at his house. I never once had a pillow case or top sheet on my bed. I always came home with a sinus infection from breathing in his smokey house.
Of all the Bergs I have come to know and love, it was Uncle RB that spent the most time getting to know me. He loved to hear about our construction projects, he loved to give me advice on healthcare for my company.
He tried in vain to convert me to an mac book user. He never understood why I brought so many Ugg boots on a 5 day vacation.
He made fun of me for loving the Yankees and driving a Ford. He never once let me in his Corvette. He said I couldn't appreciate it.
He taught me to love lox and cream cheese.

Every Thanksgiving morning I would try not to laugh as he called his friends and left messages saying "Well, if you don't call me back, I guess that means you're dead."
When they called back, he'd answer the phone with "Natick Police Department."

He loved the Thanksgiving circulars. He was had me looking for deals on green bags, to keep his bananas fresh and socks, because you could never have too many.

He lived for his family, he never stopped mourning his wife who died ten years earlier.
I don't think we will never stop mourning for him.

I will forever miss his laugh and his smile. It won't be the same this Thanksgiving without Uncle RB sleeping in the corner pretending to watch the football game.
It would be the same with the grandkids asking if he was going out to kill bugs when he stepped out to have a smoke.
I will never forget him at our wedding. It rained and his 40 year old dress shoes fell apart.
He wanted to sing amore, but ran out of time.

He was our life blood, our guiding light and our greatest family asset.
He was also the biggest hoarder you ever knew.... it will take us YEARs to get through everything in his house.
Heck, it took us an hour to get through the deep freeze.

I am glad he is at peace. I am glad his death was quick, painless and without sadness.
I only hope I am as lucky when my time comes.

I know he is in heaven with his wife and I know that even though our family is mourning. Deep down, we are all rejoicing that his is whole again.

But I'll still miss that laugh and that smile.
Thank You Uncle RB for so many great memories.
We will miss you.