The Weeks Without - Part 4: a change in pace

If you've been following my blog for the past month, you know that I've been picking one thing to give up each week. The purpose of this experiment is to force myself to pay attention to how I live my life, and find out where I can make changes for the better.

Week one was the week without bread, week two I made no purchases, week three I attempted to give up all caffeine, and this week I had intended to not throw anything away.

So far, it's been a real eye-opener. My week without bread caused a significant change in my mood, energy level, and my pants size. Going a week without buying anything gave me a new appreciation for the things I already have and made me realize that I sometimes use purchases to "reward" myself even though I forget that I've bought something within a few hours. Special Starbucks "coffee treat" quickly becomes "coffee routine" becomes "coffee requirement." Quitting caffeine for week three was an epic failure of headaches and irritation but I certainly learned something: Not worth it!

I still plan to go ahead with the trash experiment, but it may need to be postponed for three to six weeks because...well...

...this:

"This" is my sprained or possibly broken foot.

Welcome to the weeks without walking.

Greg and I were longboarding on Friday, trying to get better at sliding, and I had a little accident.

Not a cute "little accident" like a puppy, unfortunately.

I've been trying for a couple weeks to learn how to do a pendulum slide since I've gotten pretty good at shutdown slides and now I want to be able to speed check instead of foot braking on a fast hill. I made the mistake of wearing unsupportive shoes and ended up rolling my foot under the board then coming down on the board with my full body weight and crushing the foot sideways.

The foot did not like that. Not at all.

Extra-awesome news to add to the foot fun is that this weekend was the Maryhill Freeride where I was supposed to spend two wonderful days zooming past wheat and windmills in scenic Goldendale, WA.

We still made the drive, an eight hour round trip journey through central Washington. It was a blast to see some of the girls from the Bomber Betties ride Maryhill for the first time, but it was a little hard to keep my jealousy in check. I guess that just means I'll be that much more excited for the next Freeride.

Two riders on Maryhill

Riann, Erin and Barbara watching the action

Riann

Barbara

Summer of Awesome - A Retrospective

"More and more as I delve deeper into the "adult" world, I find myself a different kind of tired. An aching tired that comes with stress and worry and the pressure to maintain order among people and things that have no desire to be organized.

I'm not saying that I've had a bad time the past few years; far from it. But I've moved away from the carefree good times of childhood and focused too hard on forcing others to have a good time. This life is one big decision, I will decide what to do with it and how I feel about it.

This summer is for me."

Selina, April 28, 2010


As that familiar Fall chill creeps back into my fingertips and slips through door and window cracks to seize my toes, I look back on a Summer that was mine.

26th Birthday - Ever Neverland

Trip to NYC - Coney Island

The Bomber Betties Womens Longboarding Club - Established May, 2010

Performing in Riverfront Park with Tony

Biking at Riverside State Park

Cindy's ninja rings at the Garland Street Fair

My first triathlon - Wunder Woman at Medical Lake


Camping at Lake Gillette


Camping at Lake Gillette


Rings & Things' new Graphic Designer taking over my old cube


Liz's going away party - 80's Prom


I'm originally from the 80's, you know


The Palouse in mid-Summer


Making slide gloves with the Bomber Betties


Green Bluff - Devon buying fresh corn on the cob and apples for the week without bread


Green Bluff - short people need short horses


The Spokane Interstate Fair

Looking back through the photos from the past few months, I can honestly say that I don't feel like I missed out on anything this Summer. I took stock of what I was doing with my life and reset my priorities.

I've discovered that everything is a choice, no matter how much it seems like it's outside of our control. These days, I'm devoting more time to my art and spending more quality moments with my friends and family. This means that finances are tight and things may need to change to reflect that, but the benefits outweigh the risks.

The older I get, the less I care about money or status. Summer coming to a close, the weather cooling off and the kids heading back to school reminds me that growing up is a state of mind.

We get to a certain age and we stop being fascinated by the world. We stop exploring. We focus on getting by and making a good life for our families (nothing wrong with that), but we push so hard to make a good life that we often forget to spend some time enjoying it.

There's no reason to stop learning and discovering. My actions are my own and I choose not to stay still and accept a mundane existence.

This is my adventure.

The Weeks Without - Part 3: No drinks but water, checking in

Failure Failure Failure. No caffeine = horrible idea.

The death headache that began around noon on day 1 didn't show any signs of backing off. It was the kind that starts out having a booming bass techno rave behind your eyes, then, just for fun, smacks you in the back of the head with a hammer at random. Add to that the nausea, muscle aches, fatigue, inability to concentrate and general bite-your-head-off attitude that I'd acquired, and I'm sure you can imagine that I was a joy to be around. Much like a cheery little ray of sunshine that travels through a magnifying glass and lights the forest on fire.

Anyone else out there tried to quit caffeine? I talked to a few people about my journey this week and the response I got was an overwhelming, "Why would you try to do that? Are you crazy?!"

The answer is yes. That was a bad idea.

Symptoms of withdrawal from caffeine (officially classified as a psychoactive stimulant drug along with amphetamine and antidepressants among others, btw) are not so weirdly similar to symptoms of "hard" drug withdrawal like heroin or cocaine. Depression, anxiety, paranoia, nausea, fatigue and muscle aches are some of the shared symptoms of withdrawal from both caffeine and heroin.

Check out these eye-opening statements from the interwebs:

"Kuhar explained that caffeine blocks receptors in the brain that can dilate blood vessels causing headaches. "Withdrawal symptoms can start from 12 to 20 hours after your last cup of coffee and peak about two days later and can last about as long as a week," Kuhar added.

It is not just coffee that can lead to caffeine withdrawal. While a 6-ounce cup of brewed coffee contains about 100 milligrams of caffeine, tea and cola have about 40 milligrams each, a bar of milk chocolate has about 10 milligrams and hot chocolate has about 7 milligrams." - CNN Health

"...caffeine is the most widely used behaviorally active drug in the world...Average daily intake of caffeine among caffeine consumers in the United States is about 280 milligrams, or about one to two mugs of coffee or three to five bottles of soft drink..." HopkinsMedicine.org

A close friend recently shared with me that he felt it was harder to quit caffeine and cigarettes than it was to quit methamphetamine and cocaine. That's just one person's experience, but it's interesting to consider what's different about quitting something that is socially acceptable, readily accessible, and so ingrained in our daily lives. Wake up, drink coffee. Eat lunch, drink soda. Have dinner, drink tea. Relax before bed, drink hot cocoa.

Caffeine is also contained in many things we wouldn't think of (like yogurt and Excedrin), so even if you think you haven't had any, it's possible that you are an unwitting consumer.

Observations during a double-blind caffeine withdrawal study showed that although some subjects experienced mild symptoms or no symptoms at all, a few had complete break downs of daily function including missed work, errors at work and inability to care for children.

Honestly, I don't even want to think about caring for children without having had a cup of coffee or two.

You may be interested to know that the only reason I'm not screaming and crying while sitting in my sunny spot on the couch, staring at my glowing computer screen, while my neighbor mows their lawn with the loudest lawnmower ever, is because I've had two cups of coffee this morning.

I find myself sitting up straight and tall, researching effectively, confident about the day ahead, a perfect example of a functioning addict.

So weigh in on this for me. Who out there is addicted to caffeine? Is it a problem or is it a solution? Do we live in a society where this sort of pick-me-up is necessary?

Should we be worried when we haven't heard much from the scientific community about negative side effects of caffeine addiction?

Tell me what you think.

The Weeks Without - Part 3: No drinks but water

No coffee, tea, or soda for the entire week.

I briefly thought about lying and saying I was doing this but not actually doing it. The throbbing pain at the back of my head is proof that I went through with the plan.

This morning I awoke and stumbled into my kitchen on a lurching path toward the coffeemaker as per usual. Then I drifted slightly to one side and ended up at the sink instead, where I poured myself a glass of water and emitted a cry of frustration somewhere in between an angry t-rex and a scared pig.

I feel a bit like both.

If you have ever owned a chihuahua, or know someone who does, you know that they NEVER. SHUT. UP. Somehow, this had completely escaped my notice until today. Normally, my dogs bark and I pop my head up from behind the computer and yell something encouraging like, "Nice job guys!" It's not because I like to hear barking, it's because I'm equally excited about distant noises and the six cups of coffee I've consumed have me shaking harder than tiny, two-pound Lola in a snowstorm. I'm READY!

Bark Bark --- Shake Shake

My dogs are LOUD. These drivers SUCK. That sun is BRIGHT. It's gonna be a LONG week.

The Weeks Without - Part 2: Purchasing Freeze, checking in

This week has been a rough one.

None of my friends are encouraging me to spend. Not a single person has laughed or chided me when I've said I'm not spending money this week. When I say, "I can't go out," they say, "that's cool, let's stay in," or "let's find something free to do."

Do you realize what this means?!

It's my fault

Here I am, surrounded by wonderful, supportive people who don't give a flying frick if I can pick up the tab, and I've been completely oblivious.

The problem with not spending any money for one week is that it makes you realize that you shouldn't have been spending money in the first place, at all, for any weeks.

Instead of running to the store every five seconds for things I thought we needed, I actually took the time to look for the things we already have, and to see if we had something that could act as a substitute.

For example, I was making lasagna and we were out of the ground soy stuff I normally use. Instead of falling to the floor in a crying heap, I looked in the fridge and found some soy "sausage" links to chop up. Turns out, fakey-fake sausage lasagna is delicious.

Yesterday as we were leaving the gym, I was hit with the almost overwhelming urge to walk across the parking lot and "treat" myself to a frappucino at Starbucks. You know...for being so good about not buying things...

Why is that? Why is that a treat at all? What's so special about not-enough-coffee blended with too-much-ice by a stranger?

Mmmmmm...too-much-ice...my favorite...?

Not only is that a silly thing for a "treat," it's a hollow reward for keeping my paws off the debit card. Here is something that tastes good but not great, lasts about 15 minutes, isn't made for sharing, creates trash, and has no positive effects after the initial buyers-high.

So instead we went home, reheated some awesome lasagna, and all sat together in the living room hanging out and taking turns playing Resident Evil (that's a heartwarming, family scene if I ever saw one).

Aside from the motion sickness that came on after watching Greg run around on a super-spin-spin-camera zombie killing spree, I felt great.

I didn't feel like I needed anything else. To be honest, by the time we had turned the corner off 57th to head down the hill from the gym, I had already completely forgotten about wanting a crappy coffee.

I wanted something that actually matters: good times with my friends.

The Weeks Without - Part 2: Purchasing Freeze

Last weeks' bread fast has come to an end. I've learned a lot about how I eat, when, and why. Turns out, I'm more likely to crave bready things when I'm tired or slightly sad. I desperately want pasta when I feel like I need an excuse to crash on the couch and do nothing. Even when I eat bread for the appropriate reasons, I eat waaaaaaaay too much, just because it's so easy to do.

Eating fruit is hard. I can't just push it into my mouth and gulp it down and be done with it. It must be chewed. It demands to be peeled, or sliced, or pitted. Fruit likes to make itself difficult.

I'll be happy to reintroduce bread to my life this week, but it won't be making a full on, Madonna-like comeback.

Indeed, bread is back, but it's back like visiting relatives.

Maybe it will roll though town once in a great while, and maybe I'll go see it and have a great time, then I'll laugh about how we should get together more often, but I won't really mean it.

Bread makes me exhausted in the afternoon, sluggish, hot when I'm trying to sleep, and um...fat.

Well, not really fat, but puffy. Puffy like a puff pastry

After seven days of no bread, here are my measurements compared to last week:

• neck: 12" ------> 12"
  
• bicep: 11" ------> 11"
  
• bust: 36" -------> 35.5"
  
• waist: 30" ------> 28"
  
• hips: 37" --------> 35"
  
• thigh: 22" ------> 22"
  
• calf: 15" --------> 15"
  

Notice that the parts of my body that have very little fat made no changes in measurement. That's good news for me because it means I haven't lost any muscle. My weight has gone from 140 at the start of this experiment to 138.5, not a huge drop, probably just water weight.

The running regiment hasn't suffered at all from the reduction in flour. I'm still trudging along at 8 minute miles for my one hour runs, and averaging 9:30's for my two hour training festival of fun.

I even managed to make it through the Spokane Interstate Fair without feeling sugar-sick or being mistaken for a bovine. Don't worry though, I spent plenty of time chewing, I wasn't out of place. Instead of my typical Fair food favorites like fry bread, onion petals, pizza, mini doughnuts and gyros, I enjoyed a corn on the cob and a caramel apple. Believe it or not, that's still a vegetable and a fruit, even when coated in butter and sugar. Better still, I feel completely satisfied with my Fair experience without also feeling completely regretful.

Check out this list of calorie content in common Fair foods from an article by John Brewer about the Minnesota State Fair

Caramel covered apple (1 order): 347 calories

Cheese curds (1 order): 759

Corn on the cob with butter (1 cob): 179

Cotton candy (1 bag): 323

Flowering onion with ranch dressing: 980

Funnel cake/ Elephant ear (1 each): 452

Mini donuts (1 bag): 622

Pronto pup (1 each): 350

Taffy (30 piece box): 557

Soooooo, for those who are like me and look at numbers like they are beautiful poofy clouds in the distance...so pretty, but not able to be touched...let me break this down:

Selina's regular Fair Fare: 2,054 calories for a funnel cake, doughnuts, and fried onions

Selina's reasonable Fair Fare: 526 calories for corn on the cob and a caramel apple

A savings of 1,528 calories.

To recap: still The Fair, still fun, still smelly like horse poopy...minus the 1/2 pound weight gain.

Please don't try to pet me, I will think your fingers are carrots!


Tiny horse!!!!!


Mutton Bustin' - children dressed as tiny linebackers clinging to stampeding sheep

Sick individuals who enjoy watching children getting thrown into the dirt by sheep

Desi rockin' the fried potato on a stick


Corn on the Cob...not nearly as terrifying as I've made it look

Hi Greg

This week the hammer is coming down. Hell and wallets are freezing over. The bank of Selina is shutting down. Cliches are coming down like mana from heaven.

A big part of this weeks' "without" will be determining where my money goes, if I really buy things because I need them, and if my spending habits are affected by the company I keep.

I'm hoping to come out the other side of this seven days with my new, smaller waist intact (no purchases means no restaurant eating), a budget for the remainder of the year, and a new appreciation for the things I already own.

Wish me luck and dollars.

The Weeks Without - Part 1: Bread, checking in

Today is day 3 of the week without bread. So far, so good. I haven't gone on a bread truck hijacking spree or held up a Cinnabon. With a little luck, I shall remain a law-abiding citizen at least until I pass the mini doughnut guy in Riverfront Park. Watch your back, doughnut guy.

There has been an adjustment period, a little more thinking than normal when I wander into the kitchen, but I think I can get into the groove before the week is up.

Erin came down to the basement at 9 Monday morning and asked if I wanted to go to the gym. And of course, I said, "Yeah!" with my excited face on. I wanted to go for a run, a loooooong run, then I remembered I hadn't eaten anything yet (except coffee, which is not a food, no matter how much I think so). So I went upstairs to make myself some peanut butter toast...

...and

...I

...crap

Luckily, we had some apples sitting next to the bread in the fridge, so I just let my hand drift slightly to the left and picked up one of those instead. Apples slices with peanut butter on them are the shiznit. I never would have known.

It's strange to sit through a meal and not be constantly reaching for something in the center of the table. It's extra-weird to feel like making a sandwich then preparing and eating sandwich innards instead. But the craziest extra-extra-weirdest thing is that...it's not really a problem. My body isn't screaming "abuse" and shutting down without flour and yeast. I don't feel tired or hungry. I'm not a flaming ball of energy either, but feeling like that is a rarity reserved for I-just-had-eight-cups-of-coffee days.

Usually I feel like taking a nap in the afternoon. An actual nap is something that rarely happens, but I almost always wish I had the time to doze off for at least 30 minutes around 3pm. All three days of this bread-free week, I have sailed through the afternoon with the same amount of energy I typically have the rest of the day.

Check out a side-by-side color comparison of what I ate the day of my bread ephiphany verses day 1 of this week:

Bad Bad Beige Day


Beige Day breaks down like this: Coffee with soy milk, bagel, pita and crackers with hummus, tortilla chips, garlic bread, pita (yet again), cheese raviolli.

Variety Day started with the serendipitous peanut butter apples for breakfast, followed by veggie sausage salad for lunch, yogurt, stir fry, corn on the cob, and baked apples with brown sugar topping.

Variety Day!


Bread may not be invited back, at least not to every meal.

The Weeks Without - Part 1: Bread

Lately I've been thinking about what it would be like to not have the things that make life so comfortable. Not just because I don't have a steady job, but maybe that's part of it, this funemployment has certainly given me more time to read up on world news and get a new perspective. But it's not just that. Here we are at Labor Day, the end of Summer is imminent, hanging over us like the wintery clouds that are currently suspended outside my window.

Seasons are changing but I am staying the same. And you know how much I hate that. There's nothing that gets to me more than realizing I've dropped into a routine; waking, living and sleeping again the same way, every day. Effectively going through the motions, allowing time to whip past me without even reaching for it.

While it's true that time flies when you're having fun, it's also true that we become numb to the passing of time when we are fully embedded in our day-to-day.

On Labor Day, the day that we celebrate the fact that the CLU (Central Labor Union) of NY didn't want to continue punching in and out without thought, I'd like to shake things up. Instead of turning my gaze outward and lamenting the political choices of foreign leaders, or the destructive nature of nature, or how nice it would be to lay on a beach somewhere instead of mowing my lawn, I'm going to spend 5 weeks truly thinking about what I, personally, am doing. Not on a grand scale, not, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" more like, "Where do you see yourself in three minutes."

Hopefully, in this process, I will cut out some of the excesses in my daily life and get closer to my real self, without the buffer I create with food, chemicals and objects.

Each week for the next four weeks, I will remove something or change something that has become ingrained in my existence. Essentially exploding the small parts of my life from the inside.

• Week 1: I will consume no bread
  
• Week 2: I will buy nothing
• Week 3: I will drink nothing but water
• Week 4: I will not throw anything away

So here goes week 1.

What will happen if I don't eat bread for seven days? Will I transcend this world and become something greater than myself? Will I just get snappy and irritable? Perhaps I'll waste away to nothing, or become strong like the spinach-pushing Popeye. Will I get an anchor tattoo?

Let's find out!

As of 9pm on Sunday, 9/5/2010, here are my measurements (weight will be added as soon as I'm near a scale):

• neck: 12"
• bicep: 11"
• bust: 36"
• waist: 30"
• hips: 37"
• thigh: 22"
• calf: 15"

No. Bread.

This is no small feat, I eat some form of bread or starchy goodness at every meal. Crackers, pita, pizza, tortillas, bread sticks and OMG CHIPS!!!! These things go with Selina like Selina goes with running. This weeks' "without" landed on my consciousness and started lightly tapping on my brain when I was sitting at the 2-7 on the South Hill stuffing my face with garlic bread and raviolli. I ate four slices of bread, then I reached over and snatched a pita bread triangle from Greg's plate. Prior to the arrival of the entree, I had even considered ordering an appetizer: french bread topped with garlic and gorgonzola cheese(!!!). As I munched on this carbohydrate-sugar-fest, I glanced around the table and noticed that there was nothing green. In fact, everything I had eaten for the entire day had been white or slightly beige.

I hate beige.

What I hate even more than beige is that although I consider myself a healthy person, I had managed to entirely dodge nutrients for a day without a second thought. How many other times have I done this? There's really no way to say. At this point I could just shrug my shoulders and say, "Whatev," but that's not me.

Bread, I quit you!

go go gadget shoe

There is a tiny mastermind holding me hostage. He doesn't have a gun or any sort of weapon. He hasn't made explicit threats or demands, but still, he has a hold on me. Oh yes, he has the power.

He's got a friend who looks similar but is a bit larger; clearly the muscle. One has my hands and the other has my right foot. They work together, they seem to communicate without speaking at all, and they say things about me.

I worry about the things they say.

You'd think I'd be able to overpower them since they're so small and everything...


Yep, that's a Nike Running Monitor with my ipod Nano. Two small items that plug into the ipod and attach to a shoe.

Like the Eagles singing Hotel California, I have become a prisoner of my own device.

For those who are unfamiliar with the Nike Running Monitor and its App for Facebook, the function is simple: tiny devices keep track of your runs, then proclaim your awesomeness to the internet, which prompts distant friends and relatives to praise you.

Thanks guys!

I got the tiny chip for my shoe and the widget that plugs into the ipod earlier this year. Erin had one, and that's just not fair. My brain said, "OMFG, that's so cool!" and I ran right out and threw all my dollars at a Best Buy employee to get my own.

Each time I run I happily click though the options -->New Workout -->Basic -->Playlist -->Go!

Clicky Clicky Clicky GO!

Very satisfying.

I trot along clutching my ipod (wrapped safely in its neoprene Bat Suit should I accidentally throw it or sweat on it). I obsessively shift it from one hand to the other, using each pass as an opportunity to look down at the tiny orange screen and verify that it still knows I'm running.

I'm such a badass. I smile and nod to myself, maybe I laugh a little, people at the gym think the quiet girl has finally lost it.

Then, one day, disaster.

My running monitor wouldn't load. There would be no way to record my time, distance and calories burned on my ipod Nano. No way.

OMG! What happens now?! My head was spinning, my thoughts rapid and jumbled...I can't...I can't...what?...where is?...hello?...NO...hello?...I can't...I can't run!

Yeah, that's right, I can't run. There's no way. It's silly to even think that I could. There would be nowhere to put my hands. No record of what I've done. I'd probably have to watch Judge Judy or Fox News on the gym televisions instead of thinking about what I'm doing. Yeah. That would suck. Better just go home.

Seriously? ... I can't run? I can't swing my arms and lift my feet unless the ipod is registering my steps? Hold on...doesn't this treadmill have a screen that tells me how far and fast I'm going?

Moron.

How in the world did I take running, the most natural human action next to smiling, and turn it into something that requires an equipment arsenal?

In fact, I can run without the bells and whistles. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I've done it before. I run the same way I always do: with my back straight and my arms comically low, for an obscenely long time, grinning like an idiot. A parody of a perpetual motion running robot.

I'll still use the running monitor after I fix it because I enjoy its features. But from now on, I'll take extra care not to get so caught up in it that I forget why I run in the first place. Fitness, a sense of accomplishment, and the pure joy of moving through the world by my own power.

Now I'm left to wonder what else I've added 10 extra steps to. And what I can do to simplify. There must be at least a few other things that I've forgotten how to do the real way.

A couple weeks ago, we were sitting outside after the sun had gone down and Greg told me it was 93 degrees. It had been a hot day but had cooled considerably. The air felt like it was about 75, with a light breeze.

"I don't think it's 93, Hon. I think it might have been earlier, but not anymore," I said.

"Oh, no," he replied earnestly, "it's definitely 93. It says so right here." He turned the screen of his HTC Hero phone toward me and pointed at the temperature icon.

I waved my hand around in the air, testing the temperature, unable to understand how it could still be 93 degrees. Greg made a face and looked at the screen himself, mumbling something about it not feeling that hot, but it had to be right.

Then...aha! He pushed "refresh" and the temperature gauge updated: 78 degrees.


Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find my boots. My Mac says it's raining.

Goodbye July

Five years ago I went camping with my boyfriend Greg. We headed up to Mount Spokane on a scorching day in early July with little more than a tent, a cooler full of drinks, and our three dogs. We had a great day running through the woods, getting lost, climbing on the empty ski lifts, playing catch, and lying on a picnic table under a billion stars that are normally blocked out by city lights.

Late that night, the temperature dropped to below freezing on the mountain, and as we huddled together, shivering with our dogs under the single blanket we'd brought, I thought about how ill prepared we were to be away from the comforts we knew at home.

The next day, I began my career as a Graphic Designer with Rings & Things Wholesale. July 7th, 2005, 21-years-old.

Five years later I went camping again. The first serious camping trip I've taken since that weekend on Mount Spokane. This time I brought a stove, a lantern, extra blankets, jugs of drinking water, a tarp, an axe, fire starters, and countless other things. Despite an epic thunderstorm and downpour, this trip was much smoother than the time before.

This time, I return from camping to tackle a new career, in business for myself. I'll be mostly contracting with Community-Minded Enterprises, doing non-profit work; and also taking on more freelance projects. I'll be my own boss.

A lot has changed in five years.

I'm now more likely to be found outdoors than in. More likely to be leading a group than following placidly behind. More likely to speak my mind and to know what will happen when I do.

I've always been a compulsive list-maker, but now I can tell the difference between wants and necessities. As in: I 'want' to bring my giant inflatable alligator to the lake, I 'need' to bring water. Fortunately, I am a big-girl-pants-wearing adult and I can decide to bring both.

There is a list. There is a plan. There is balance.

I tell it like it is, but not with the intent to hurt others. I get far more sun than a pale person should, but I'm always vigilant about applying and reapplying the SPF 50. I do what makes me happy but also what makes others happy, because we're only truly happy when we're happy together.

Here's what's been making me happy recently:

Bomber Betties
The women's longboarding club is taking off in a big way. When I started this group, I had small hopes of helping a few friends learn a new sport and maybe teaching a few others about something I love. Fast forward three months and here is an enthusiastic group of women who are learning new skills, bringing others, and getting seriously involved in the longboarding community. We have our very own group t-shirts (designed by Erin Buehler) and we've been written about in The Inlander.

Here's our t-shirt designed by Erin:
Click here to read the Inlander article by Blair Tellers


New Bike!
When I bought my road bike in the Spring, I teetered around in the parking lot behind Spoke n' Sport and nearly crashed into a wall yelling, "I'm a skateboarder, dammit!"

My previous two-wheeled ride was a small mountain bike that I bought at Wal-Mart 10 years ago for $60. It was the first purchase I made with my paycheck from JcPenney, one step up from my turquoise and orange Malibu Cruiser with the purple streamers.

Now I have a road bike, and the biking chutzpah to do an 8 mile ride, then devour three entire pizzas at The Flying Goat.

Serious, delicious chutzpah.



Swimming in Lakes
I've always been afraid of deep, open water. This is not a serious problem for my day-to-day life.

No one ever says, "Hey Selina, can you take this folder over to Loss Prevention? They are at the bottom of the shark tank."

However, it became a problem when I decided to take up a triathlon as my next big challenge. Believe it or not, they require a bit of swimming before the bike and run, it's not a choose-your-own-adventure-style thing.

So it was that I left the safety of the Oz Fitness pool and inhaled billions of lake dwelling microorganisms, using them to wash down the panic that rose in my throat each time a strand of kelp wound it's slimy hands of death around my ankles.

Then I ate an apple. And decided it wasn't so bad.




Triathlon Training
At this point the Wunder Woman Triathlon in Medical Lake is less than two weeks away and I feel completely safe throwing out reckless comments like: "I won't die during that," and "It's possible that I won't throw up at the finish line."

I attribute my hubris to my personal trainer, Darrin. I signed up to work with him at Oz fitness in May, and he helped me find the weak points in my exercise program. In the process, I whittled down to a highly efficient, 10% body fat and finally got my 5K time into a range that brings more than age-group medals.

For the first time ever, I brought home a first place finisher medal. Not first place in my age-group, but first place for women overall.





Camping
On the way to the Colville National Forest, we ended up overshooting the turn and driving all the way up to Kettle Falls. We were lost, but I didn't feel apprehensive. I don't worry any more because I know I can handle it. I know that there are worse things than adding 30 minutes to your driving time, it's not worth fretting about.

Whenever I am driving lost, I think of the time my family went up to Mount St. Helens and our truck died on the way back. We coasted in neutral all the way down the mountain to a repair shop in town, praying that no one would slow down in front of us to make a turn and cause the truck to lose momentum. We jokingly blamed the breakdown on the bad-luck pumice stones that we'd collected at the park; the ranger had warned everyone that they were cursed. We laughed at the time, but we threw out those stones the second we hit town.

From there, my mind drifts to the time my alternator went out on I-90 and I was able to glide off the freeway in a rest area parking lot where I spent the day with friendly Mormon missionaries selling snacks.

Sure it was frustrating to break down, but no one got hurt, people helped us, and we got back on the road eventually.

The most important lesson is that it was beyond our control. Bad-luck pumice stones aside, both cars got regular checkups and were reasonably well taken care of.

Most of the things that go wrong in life are the things you would have never thought to worry about in the first place, so there's no sense wasting space in your head trying to imagine the worst.

This is what I've really learned in five years:

• Stop worrying.
• Take a risk.
• Say what you mean.
• Follow Your Bliss.