Team S.J.G.R. Thursday Huddle #3: GET UP OFFA THAT THANG!

 

Hey good people! What you know good?

Ha ha ha. . . .that's one of my favorite greetings. (The proper answer is: "I don't know nothin'!") Even if you know something. Ha ha ha!

Okay. Enough shenanigans. . . let's get it crack-a-latin'! 

First things first. . . a reminder for all of us:

WE LOSE WEIGHT IN THE KITCHEN (OR THROUGH FORK MANAGEMENT)

WE GET FIT (AND HEART HEALTHY) IN THE GYM (OR THROUGH EXERCISE WHEREVER YOU DO IT.)

I just can't say that enough. Team S.J.G.R. is over the b.s. idea that risk of heart disease goes on hiatus or decides that we are too cool, too cute, too nice, too talented, too whatever to fall prey to the realness. We are OVER that. So our approach is a slow and steady one like that tortoise when he went up against the hare. And baby, just like that fable teaches us, slow and steady wins the race. 

Let me be less cryptic here:

The ultimate goal should ALWAYS be cardiovascular health. Period. End of story. Not fitting in some skinny jeans or not having a jiggle in the back of your arm. And yes, those can be mini-goals but not the prize that your eyes stay on. Because what good is it to look cute if you can't do anything? What help is it to fit into a pair of skinny jeans but be unable to walk two feet due to heart failure? 

NONE. AT. ALL.

We are about the realness. And since we know that looking good in a pair of skinny jeans does not prevent heart disease alone, then we are gettin' up offa that thang when it comes to our thinking.

Now. 

Since our hearts are our focus, that means that weight loss is necessary for heart protection if you're overweight. And damn, that mountain can seem like a high one to climb. Damn, it can! But you can climb it. You can just focus on the people you love and climb your ass off. Hell yeah, you can. 

Step one:  Look at what you're eating.

Step two:  Be mindful when you eat.

Step three:  Don't oppress yourself.

Step four:  Get the bad sh*t up out of your house.

Step five:  Plan your meals.

Step six:  If you haven't planned your meal, be vigilant about the words, "Naaah, I'm good." Which means "Hell naaaww, I ain't eating that because it's not worth it."

 Step seven:  Drink water. It fills you up.

Step eight:  Eat a bunch of veggies--they fill you up. Not potatoes. Easy on carrots, too. (They have a high glycemic index.)

Step nine:   DO NOT ever drink your calories.

Step ten:  Think about your heart and your ultimate goal whenever you eat. 

See? That required no point counting or any such thing. It just tells you to use your noggin' and to get up out of hypothetical la-la land. Because heart disease is some REAL SHIT that CAN AFFECT YOU no matter how much you think it can't. Trust me. It CAN.

Speaking of which.

I ran into one of my favorite patients of all time yesterday while walking on the bridge toward Emory Hospital. Ten years younger than me. Disabled by congestive heart failure that he got after his heart muscle was left severely damaged from a HEART ATTACK. Could barely even walk faster than a shuffle. This patient is NOT overweight. He just has a family history of heart disease and was making some not-so-great choices. And you know what? S.J.G.R. for him and his family. 

No, he didn't die. But he now is a young person with a heart that works at less than 10% capacity. Which SUCKS. And no, it isn't FREAKISH or OMG-how-could-that-happen-ish. It is a reality that can happen to any person. Because I will keep saying over and over again that heart disease is the most likely thing to take the life of every single person reading this blog. 

Believe that.

So what else? We have to keep moving, right? A minimum of 150 minutes of moderate activity per week to make our hearts happy and reduce our risk. Yes!

Yesterday, I was at home and it was raining. I wanted to run after work but didn't when that monsoon started. But then, I looked at my progress for the day on my FitBit fitness tracker and saw that I'd only achieved 8,500 steps for the day. My goal is 10,000 or more. So do you know what that meant? It meant this:

I had to GET UP OFFA THAT THANG! Sure did. I got in my car and went straight to the YMCA. And you know? I couldn't find my membership card and didn't let that stop me either. Because I wish I could talk about how little excuses like rain and not being able to locate a membership card can keep you on your butt. But see, my heart needs me to move. So I thought about my patient with his slim build and his name on the heart transplant list and said, "BUMP THAT." I got to move.

Or better yet, GET UP OFFA THAT THANG!

So. That picture up top is after my workout. I was feeling good so I ran three miles and did some weights. Got well over my goal in steps and loved knowing that my heart was getting healthier. I even added "GET UP OFFA THAT THANG!" to my running play list because it kind of hyped me up.

So. What are you doing? It's Thursday. Are you keepin' it 150? Or all you bull-jiving? Are you aware that the realness does not go on break? That those little goombahs are building their little plaques in your arteries whether you acknowledge them or not? But our team recognizes them and puts them in a headlock. We shall not be sucker punched. No ma'am, no sir.

SH*T is still real. What you doing? What you feeling? What you know good?

Keep it 150. If you're at the goal, do more. Go harder. If you're bullshitting with the meals, CUT IT OUT. (I ate a bag of kettle chips yesterday so I feel the pain, too.) We can do this. We will do this. We are Team S.J.G.R. and baby, we are a movement!

Now.

GET UP OFFA THAT THANG! AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!

***

Happy Thursday.

Real talk on real rounds yesterday.

"The enemy way worse when he don't even show up on the radar. 

Them the ones that get you when you ain't looking."

~ My patient at Grady Hospital

On rounds yesterday:


Patient:  Hey Miss Manning--what you think about all this stuff in the news?

Me:  Sir? Are you talking about the Zimmerman verdict?

Patient:  Yeah. That. What you feel about it?

Me: What do I feel?

Patient:  Yeah. Feel.

Me:  I feel. . .  sad. I feel scared. For my own sons and for my husband. I feel bothered. I feel angry. I feel. . .hurt. I feel . . . . disappointed. I guess. . . I guess I feel a lot of things, sir.

Patient:  Yeah. Me, too, doc. Me, too.

Me:  Tell me. What do you feel?

Patient:  Me? I feel like somebody tha's been walking for a long time and just realized that he ain't got nowhere. Like how you feel when you driving forever and look up and see a sign that tell you that you right where you started. Like that.

Me: Hmmm.

Patient:  You know what, Miss Manning? Real talk-- it's a lot of people out there that still hate us. Hate us like it's the sixties. Maybe even more.

Me:  Sigh. But I just keep trying to tell myself that there's a lot of people who don't. Because I know that's true.

Patient:  Yeah, I feel you. But you know what, though?

Me:  What's that, sir?

Patient:  The ones that say all that bad stuff on line and on TV about us? They ain't the ones that's dangerous. It's the ones that don't feel nothin' that worry me. The ones that don't even see Trayvon or me or any of this as important, you know?

Me:  Wow.

Patient:  Real talk, Miss Manning? The enemy way worse when he don't even show up on the radar. Them the ones that get you when you ain't looking.

Me:  *silence*


I stuck that on a post it note for later. Because that? That was some real talk indeed.

Yeah.

***
Happy Wednesday.

I wonder.

"Makes me wanna holler

the way they do my life."

~ Marvin Gaye

___________________________________

I wonder what he would have said

I wonder what he would have thought

Of all the chaos happening

despite the struggle so hard fought?

A stranger trailing in the dark

behind a kid just on a walk

A hoodie o'er his head became

A deadly, chilling bullseye mark

A voice cried out though some may doubt

just who was shrieking for his life

But any hunter knows that prey

Will fight and struggle 'gainst the knife

Venom flying everywhere

across the screen and on the page

Some rejoicing in it all

and others paralyzed by rage

I wonder what he would have done

What arms would he have called for us?

What words to lift our hanging heads?

What peace to counter all the fuss?

Of that I cannot say I'm sure

Just what his charge to us would be

But something tells me deep inside

he wouldn't say "Just let this be."

Injustice in one neighborhood

makes justice shaky everywhere

Your son could be the next to fall

beneath the tangle of the snare

I wonder what he would have preached

to all of us so anger bound

I think he would have told us all

to not forget to stand our ground

~ K.M. 7/16/2013

Pictures from yesterday at the MLK monument, Washington D.C.

Dear Ms. Sybrina,

I'm so, so sorry for your pain. We promise to hold your hand and stand with you. And for all of the little boys in hoodies who have just been reminded that sometimes running for your life just isn't enough? I'm so, so sorry about that, too.

Sincerely,

Another mother of beautiful brown boys


Now playing on my mental iPod. . . . . 

Because this makes me want to do this, too.

"Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere."

~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

For Trayvon and all the boys in their hoodies.

She kept the light on for us.

Grandma's house, Homecoming 2005

My grandmother lived in the college town of Tuskegee, Alabama for nearly all of her adult life. She first went there as a young co-ed to attend college. There she would meet the love of her life, my granddad. All four of her children and four--wait five--of her grandchildren did, too.

Sure did.

Everyone who knew us knew Grandma. I am not even exaggerating. To better understand this, here's what you need to know about my grandmother: For as long as I can remember, Grandma would go to bed in the morning and sleep until the early evening. She'd record all of her favorite soap operas on an old school VCR and never did get on board with the DVR revolution. When my granddaddy was living, she'd make him dinner and then commence to start watching her "stories" as she liked to call them. And she did that until the next morning when she went to bed.

Sure did.

Now imagine if you were a college student and your grandmother lived within walking distance from campus and stayed up all night every night. Also imagine that same grandmother cooking every day and having a stocked refrigerator as well as a working washer and dryer. Can you think of anything better? I sure can't.

At Homecoming, Grandma's house was always the hub. Somehow it became the Mecca for all old friends to stop in and to meet. This was the only day of the year that Grandma stayed awake during the day. She would fill her washing machine with ice and sodas. Isn't that genius? She would also go to Honey Baked Ham and have a whole spread of food for all of us scavengers to come and eat.

I take that back: She did not go to Honey Baked Ham. Someone else had to do that for her because in all 90 years of her life Grandma never drove. It was all good though because she was so sweet that no one ever minded.

Grandma's post Homecoming refrigerator note, Tuskegee Homecoming 2010

All of our friends have a Grandma memory and we were all her children. She always kept the light on for us--always. On some of those nights we were talking a lit-tle loud and being a lot silly but Grandma never seemed to mind. I remember coming to her house in the middle of the night with my sorority sisters making quite a ruckus. (I also recall it being the perfect hiding place for us to get away from the big sisters when we were pledging. . . .whew!)

But most of all? Grandma's house was always a safe place to land. And a place where ALL were welcome. That little brick house was a part of the Tuskegee experience for many generations. It truly was.

We all have memories of Grandma's house. And you know what? We always will.

Yeah.

 

Grandmommy.

 90 years of beautiful living and loving. Grandmommy, I'm so happy that you finally get to see so many people that you've missed for so long. So, so thankful to have had a grandmother like you.

Rest well, Me-Ma. Yours was a life well lived. May we all be so fortunate.

Ernestine V. Cottrell

Sunrise July 26, 1922 ~ Sunset July 13, 2013

Amazing. . . .

More soon--I promise!

Having too much fun to even post!

Team S.J.G.R.: Thursday Huddle #2

I couldn't head out to D.C without huddling with my team!

But first let me tell you this:

Donkeys are now flying. Well, they sort of are. Because I have sort of gotten onto Facebook. But only to interact with the Team S.J.G.R. group page. So technically, donkeys aren't all the way flying. They're just sort of. . . hovering. Yeah. That's it.

I can only be found by those on Team S.J.G.R. So if you haven't joined and you are a Facebooker, make that happen. Thanks again to my baby sissy for all of her help with this. JoLai ROCKS!

Okay.

Hmm. How about a Top Ten so keep us all on the straight and. . .errr. . .narrow? Yeah! Don't mind if I do!

On this lovely Thursday I bring you:

THE TOP TEN RANDOM HEALTH THOUGHTS THAT I'M THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW INSTEAD OF SLEEPING OR FINISHING PACKING MY STUFF FOR D.C.

Like to hear it? Here it go!

#10  Food Comparison Apps and Websites

OMG. Have y'all ever visited this site called twofoods.com? There's also an app that you can get for your smart phones. So essentially when you're making a food choice and you're trying to choose between two foods,  this awesome app/site lets you throw them into the ring together.

I highly recommend this. I've found it quite helpful when trying to be mindful. And it's also good for when you're being bad but you're trying to decide just how bad you want to be. Ha ha ha. 

#9  Speaking of apps. . .

Are you familiar with Fooducate? Dude. This puppy has a scanner that goes straight over the UPC code. You can scan an item right there in the store--or in your house if the damage has already been done. And don't think that I haven't scanned something at a potluck. 

Mmmm hmmm.

Recommend this, too. The point is that when you actually KNOW what you're eating, you are far more likely to make better choices with foods and portions. Two slurps of a Chick Fil A shake  makes me very happy. But that's all I'm having since it has 7billion calories per slurp. Ha ha ha ha.

#8  Army Ten Miler

I am signed up for the Army Ten Miler and can't wait! I'll be out there with all of our nation's heroes and a bunch of others, too. We get to run through our Nation's capitol while folks wave flags and cheer us on. 

Way cool.

Lots of military guys, injured vets, and so many others. I'm inspired by amputees that run distance races (or participate in wheelchairs.) I see them and really feel motivated to get up off my butt. 

Guess what? I'm running it with C.J.'s mommy, Davina. She's an Army officer and another person that inspires me to never, ever give up.

#7  Gazpacho season

Hey! Gazpacho is a delicious, healthy, filling low calorie summer meal. A quick Google search will find you a crap ton of recipes. I like Barefoot Contessa's the best.

P.S. Adding Spicy V8 makes it YUMtacular.

P.P.S. If you have high blood pressure, chill on the V8. It's mad salty.

#6  FitBit One

Okay. So my brother gave me this fitness tracker called the Fitbit which I love, love, love. It tracks your steps, your flights of stairs, your calories and . . .dig this. . .your SLEEP! How awesome is that?

It clips to your pocket or bra so isn't all obvious like those arm bracelets. If you don't mind the bracelets, Nike Fuel Band is great and so is the Flex band by Fitbit. Anywho. I like the Fitbit.

But.

Be sure to remove it from your bra or pants before they go into the laundry. I may or may not have reordered another Fitbit after laundering the original given to me by Will. 

May or may not have.

#5  150 or more.

Are you making sure that your heart is getting at least 150 minutes of moderate physical activity? Remember: This is what the AHA recommends for your heart health. I made a little chart that I printed out and track my exercise with. Can't figure out how to put it on the blog but if you go on the Facebook Team Page it's there. Or just email me and I'll send it to you.

There's a place for your exercise -- or your excuse if you didn't. Don't make the excuses a habit because the only one who loses is you.

Wait. I take that back. Your loved ones do, too.

#4  Water

Drinking a glass of water before you eat any meal is a great way to not overeat. I like adding a splash of lemon juice or even a little splash of cranberry juice so it doesn't taste so . . .watery.

Drink your water. 

#3  Overdrinking water.

But.

Did you know that there is such thing as overdoing it with water? If you overhydrate, you can dilute your blood. This drops your sodium levels and can put you at risk for being anything from fatigued and out of it to on the ground seizing. 

Don't believe me? Peep this.

#2 Wii Boogie!

Dude! I got my groove on today with Just Dance and the Michael Jackson Experience on Wii. Great work out, man. 

All I'm saying is that I'm nice with my Beat It. Real, real nice. 

And Thriller? I KILLED it. What? What!

#1 Where do you carry your load?

Remember: Our focus is overall improvement in cardiovascular fitness to reduce the chances of us succumbing to the number one cause of death and disability in the U.S. So all this talk about what we eat and weight loss is to get the fat from around our organs and torsos for heart protection.

YES.

Let's be clear. I like to fit my clothes and feel good about my appearance. But. I don't care about that nearly as much as I do seeing my sons grow up and meeting my grandkids. I hope you feel the same.

Now. 

If you carry a lot of weight around your mid-section know that this is associated with a higher risk of heart disease. If you have a spare tire or a thick middle, you need to get a tape measure and find out just how thick. Then when tracking your progress, you need to follow that, too.

Peep this for some more info on this important marker of your cardiovascular risk.

And remember: S.J.G.R.! So we don't ignore things like waist circumference because we feel discouraged or scared. Because being discouraged and scared DOES NOT prevent heart disease.

Feel me? Okay. Where was I?

What helps the tum tum? 

Well. Cutting down on refined sugars and bread? HUGE. That means limit white flour, white rice, sugar, etc. Eat lean meats. Say no to processed foods when possible. This will whittle down your midsection. Oh. And fizzy drinks? That's another one to try to start limiting. Remember when I said I lost 5 pounds for good just from giving up Diet Coke and sodas? 

Easiest 5 pounds gone EVER.

For reals. 

Okay. I need to go to bed. Or finish packing. Or something. 

Sh*t is still real. I will not let you put this on the back burner. Your heart is too important to me. You can do this. We got this. We do.

Love y'all. For real.

***

Happy Thursday. Check in and tell me what's up with you!

Shackles on my feet.

"Shackles on my feet won't let me dance."

~ RJ's Latest Arrival

A man was lying in a hospital bed. Across the room, another man sat near the door in a uniform. Both men were about the same age and build. They could have been blood brothers. Except they weren't. I know they weren't because one of the men was wearing an officer's uniform and a holster around his waist with the kinds of things that you hope officers have just in case something bad happens. And the other man? He was a patient.

But. He was a prisoner, too.

One ankle was chained to the end of the bed every single time I saw him. Every. Single. Time. And whenever I saw him, he seemed harmless enough but no matter how regular things seemed, the sight of that shackle at his foot and the metaphorical leash of his officer Doppelganger made it clear that none of this was regular. It was not.

And you know? Something about seeing grown men cuffed to beds or walking down halls with that prisoner chain-gang shuffle makes me sad. Very, very sad.

But worse was what that prisoner-patient said to me one morning. I had examined him and told him that I'd see him later. Which is pretty much something I say to everyone.

"I'm not going no where. Where am I gon' go?" he said. Then he pulled his ankle against the chain for emphasis. I tried not to wince.

"I more meant that I'd be back to see about you, okay?" This is what I said. I needed to get away from that last statement and gesture.

"Do you know what it feel like to be chained up like a dog to a stake in the ground?" He asked me this. And that guard looked up when he did but didn't say anything.

"No, sir. I don't." And I said that because I meant it. I don't even like it when Harry is tickle torturing me or the kids and holding my wrists together while horsing around. That's as close as I've gotten. "No." I repeated myself.

He looked at me and said, "I hope you never do."

I just stayed quiet.

"You got kids?"

"I do."

"Any boys?"

"Yes, sir. I do."

That guard shot him a warning glance. The prisoner-patient met his eyes and then carefully returned to our conversation. "Well," he said, "here's the problem with being chained up here." He yanked his foot back again to show me what he meant. "You can't help but end up chained up here." He tapped the side of his head.

I got what he meant.

"Make sure your boys don't end up chained up."

I nodded my head.

Then he added, "'Cause at some point you ain't never free no matter how many times they unlock you."

Damn.

***
Now playing on my mental iPod. . . .

COUNTDOWN TO THE CENTENNIAL CONVENTION!

In just a few short days, Washington D.C. will literally be blanketed with beautiful, bold, singing, celebrating, laughing and loving women with a shared bond: Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Inc. Yes! After much anticipation, the Centennial Convention for our beloved sisterhood is almost here.

Sigh.

Okay. For those who've been reading here forever or for those who have a lot of cultural similarities to me, you are fully aware of what this means. But for those who still get confused, here's a quick synopsis:

Delta Sigma Theta Sorority, Incorporated is one of nine historically African-American Greek Letter Organizations and happens to be the same sorority into which both Deanna and I pledged. Now. Unlike a lot of other fraternities and sororities (that include mostly non-minorities for example) these predominantly black organizations come with an expectation that your commitment is for a lifetime. Meaning, you pay dues (financially and through your efforts) for life.

College grads are expected to join an alumnae or alumni chapter and continue giving back to the community through their respective sorority or fraternity. This explains why you see fifty year old black men and women in Greek letters on their shirts and car tags.

Delta Sigma Theta was founded on January 13, 1913 on the campus of Howard University in Washington D.C. I was fortunate enough to be right there on Howard's campus when the clock struck midnight exactly 100 years later. It was an AMAZING experience. You can read about that epic weekend here.

Matter of fact, I just reread and re-experienced it for kicks. 

Every other summer, our organizations hold a national convention in a different city. Because this is the year of our centennial, it was, of course, fitting to go back to where it all began--Washington D.C.! Of all of the living Delta women I know (and I know many) I can literally only think of a few that are not going to be in the Nation's capitol for this historic convention. Crazy, right?

So that means that there's going to be a CRAP-TON of Delta girls descending on D.C., ya heard?!

And.

Of all the Delta women I have ever known, there is not one that could have possibly been more excited about it than my sister Deanna. She was SO excited. So excited, in fact, that she even made a piggy bank to save her coins up in preparation.

 Only Deanna!

Yeah. It's kind of bittersweet. But you know? We plan to make it sweet. Really, really sweet.

And so. . . .in time for the Centennial Celebration. . . .and for Deanna . . . . I'm calling all Deltas to the floor!

We got some here but we need some more!

And let me just say this:

Delta Sigma Theta for me has been more than a sisterhood. She has been a friend. A soft place to land. A safe place to keep my secrets. A hand to hold. A song on my lips. A pep in my step. An expectation for me to live up to. A reason to stand to my feet and applaud. And always, always hands that are always ready to touch and agree and of course to lift me when I'm down. I have no idea what it's like to belong to any other sorority. But it is my hope that every other person I know has something in their life that represents all that Delta has represented to me and so many others.

And especially? Delta was something I shared with DEANNA. And that? That has made me cherish this bond all the more.

The time has finally arrived. And I assure you. . . . . I am going to celebrate all 100 years of our illustrious sorority for me and for Dee. My goal is to be hoarse by the end of the weekend. Because I GUARANTEE that she would have been.

Ha ha ha.

Can I just say this? If I weren't a Delta girl. . . .

I sure would wish I were.

Now. Take all this joy and multiply it by a few hundred thousand.

It's about to be SO. ON. And let me tell you. . .me? I'm about to be OWT. Like a NEO.

me as a neophyte Delta on the night I crossed.

What?!! What!!!

Leh-go!! 

***
Happy Centennial Week. Who's going? Who's hyped? Who's gonna lose their voice?! MEEE!!!!

The luckiest of the Delta girls marry Omega men. . . .BEST. THING. EVER. (Just sayin'!)