Health Kick

It's still a source of wonder to me that I live within jogging distance of the ocean.  And as I set off yesterday in shorts, (Shorts! in February!) I reflected that but for my move west, I would have been getting my exercise on the east coast shoveling sidewalk snow.

Not that California doesn't offer snow opportunities of course.  We just returned from our ski trip to Squaw Valley (still celebrating their Winter Olympics 50 years after the event), where the powder base was terrific and being replenished as we skied.  We tackled all of the possible intermediate areas, covering 13 lifts in a day and a half before settling down to chips and guacamole along with 106 million of our fellow Americans for the most watched SuperBowl ever.   Black runs were off piste (so to speak), since I'm a fairly lousy skier in the first place, and the last thing that either Eric or I need is a broken anything five months before the wedding.

For the folks in New Orleans, I am guessing that mardi gras this year may be even wilder than it normally is.  For us, it marks the beginning of a health kick.  The Christmas pounds seem to be obstinately staying put on my hips, despite my efforts to banish them.  Radical action is needed.  So, for the first time in years, I shall be giving up something for Lent.  Alcohol.

Lest any of my friends think that I have suddenly "got" religion, I should assure them that my church-going is right where it has always been; lax.  It's just that, having missed the opportunity to have an ascetic January, Lent provides a convenient length of time (helpfully punctuated in mid-March by a wedding dress fitting for motivation) to make a real difference to my errant waistline. 

Forty days is an awfully long time not to have any wine, so it is possible that I may allow myself three wishes, Aladdin-style, when the alcohol ban can be lifted.  I found on a previous abstinence bout that the most challenging time was not my regular wine with dinner, but going out with friends for parties.  Celebrating someone's birthday with a sparkling apple juice sucks.  Hence the idea of a few "get out of jail free" cards during the period.

In the meantime, there are some treats to look forward to, even if they don't strictly fall within the new healthy regime.  This weekend, we will be heading over to meet our local celebrity, Marina Sousa, a cakemaker who has been featured on Oprah and the Food Network, and who works close by in Capitola, to taste some of her creations as a possibility for our California celebration over Labor Day weekend.

And Valentine's Day came early for me this week, when Eric ordered the pizza pictured above on a night when neither of us felt like cooking.  Cheesy?  Perhaps.  Cute? Definitely!  Especially when you know that the name of the pie place is www.pizzamyheart.com.