Here's a quick little announcement for you all. Intermountain Healthcare (my employer) is doing a 100-Day Heart Challenge. It's a program for employees. You had to fill out an application to be considered and... I was picked.
Here's the lowdown: For 100 days (beginning June 14th), the contestants are enrolled in a program to make us more heart-healthy. We each meet twice a week with our own personal trainer for customized workouts. Once a week we attend a nutrition class taught by one of the certified dieticians on staff. We have had our blood sugar, triglycerides, cholesterol, blood pressure, heart rate, waist circumference and weight measured. (They will all be measured again on day 100.) We have to keep a daily food journal as well as track our daily exercise. We are expected to exercise for a minimum of 30 consecutive minutes six days a week.
The point of it all is to get us more heart healthy in the short term and arm us with knowledge to continue to improve our heart health once the 100 days are over.
Oh... and it's a competition. Whoever does the best at the end wins something. I don't know what.
Oh... and the format is somewhat like a reality show. We had to sign consents to have our names and images used in local media (both internet and broadcast).
Oh... and each contestant has been given a blog that they want us to write on three times a week.
Yep... that's what I've gotten myself into. I'm okay with that... and I'd like your support. So... if you see me lounging on a couch, poke me in the ribs and throw a jump rope at me or something. If you see me sending something sweet or salty in my mouth, bat my hands away until I drop it.
Most of all, follow my blog entries and write comments meant to encourage me in my quest and/or distract me from the pain of it all.
Here is the address. Please subscribe and/or follow me however you would like.
http://karla100days.blogspot.com
It's going to be an interesting summer.
Oh, final note: since I have to blog on that other space for the next three months plus, I won't be saying much here. But I'll be back when I'm done. Who knows? Maybe the typeface will be skinnier then... or at least the pulse of the paragraphs will be stronger.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Rootie Toot Toot
So... I'm 50 now. So, we all know what gift we give ourselves when we turn 50. I had that gift today. So glad I don't have to have it again for five years. No more guilt when I pass the COLONSCOPY billboards. One small polyp removed and now life goes on.
Funny thing, aging. It's like you suddenly get permission to do things you're not supposed to do... like toot in front of other people. The nurse walks in after the procedure and asks if I've done it yet... to relieve all that air pressure in my abdomen. Seriously... when did this become a conversation topic amongst strangers? Then she gives me tips on what works best... post procedure: Walking, and laying on your left side (not at the same time, obviously).
The Cap'n comes to pick me up (he was working downstairs on the first floor), and he gets to hear all the tips and tricks, too. But not the end result. I went into the bathroom by myself for that.
I've now been home for two hours. I've walked the length and breadth of this house quite a few times. I've just taken my "make me sleepy" pain killers for the cracked rib (different story -- not related to today's procedure) and am about to do the "lay on my left side" thing. I'll never know if it's working because... well, I'll be asleep.
Funny thing, aging. It's like you suddenly get permission to do things you're not supposed to do... like toot in front of other people. The nurse walks in after the procedure and asks if I've done it yet... to relieve all that air pressure in my abdomen. Seriously... when did this become a conversation topic amongst strangers? Then she gives me tips on what works best... post procedure: Walking, and laying on your left side (not at the same time, obviously).
The Cap'n comes to pick me up (he was working downstairs on the first floor), and he gets to hear all the tips and tricks, too. But not the end result. I went into the bathroom by myself for that.
I've now been home for two hours. I've walked the length and breadth of this house quite a few times. I've just taken my "make me sleepy" pain killers for the cracked rib (different story -- not related to today's procedure) and am about to do the "lay on my left side" thing. I'll never know if it's working because... well, I'll be asleep.
Monday, June 6, 2011
Walking with Noah
Now, many of you may think I'm referring to Noah the prophet... as in ark building and lots of rain. Given this very wet winter and spring, and now the life and property-threatening run-off coming down the mountains here in Utah, I can see how your mind might go there. But no! I'm not talking about Noah and his floating precursor to the San Diego Zoo. I'm talking about Noah Hartsock. As in BYU basketball. Last year, Kay and I dined with Jimmer (as well as about 150 other people at Chuck-a-Rama that day). Tonight I walked with Noah.
BYU has a beautiful (and I'm assuming fairly new) walking path that winds around part of the campus. It has a lovely stream that runs through it and about five different waterfalls. So, tonight I decided to check it out. With my tennis shoes in hand, well, okay on feet, and a million thoughts running through my head, I decided to see just how relaxing this place could be.
It's lovely. And, I strongly suspect, it has ulterior motives. It's very... romantic. I suspect BYU is attempting to encourage butterflies in stomachs, binding of hearts and, likely, proposals of marriage on this particularly picturesque little stroll on the south side of campus. I saw so many couples I lost count. I guess that's what Mormon young adults do on a Sabbath night when they can't go to the Creamery on 9th. Lots of hand-holding. Lots of giggling and leaning into one another. Lots of hushed tones and doe-eyed glances.
I just kept my nose down and tried to get my heart rate up and have a productive walk. Then, around the corner, here he comes with his wife. Noah Hartsock. Ahhh. What a nice way to end the day. Talking BYU basketball by a waterfall on a sunset-glistened path. Yep, I guess I'm capable of doe eyes myself.
BYU has a beautiful (and I'm assuming fairly new) walking path that winds around part of the campus. It has a lovely stream that runs through it and about five different waterfalls. So, tonight I decided to check it out. With my tennis shoes in hand, well, okay on feet, and a million thoughts running through my head, I decided to see just how relaxing this place could be.
It's lovely. And, I strongly suspect, it has ulterior motives. It's very... romantic. I suspect BYU is attempting to encourage butterflies in stomachs, binding of hearts and, likely, proposals of marriage on this particularly picturesque little stroll on the south side of campus. I saw so many couples I lost count. I guess that's what Mormon young adults do on a Sabbath night when they can't go to the Creamery on 9th. Lots of hand-holding. Lots of giggling and leaning into one another. Lots of hushed tones and doe-eyed glances.
I just kept my nose down and tried to get my heart rate up and have a productive walk. Then, around the corner, here he comes with his wife. Noah Hartsock. Ahhh. What a nice way to end the day. Talking BYU basketball by a waterfall on a sunset-glistened path. Yep, I guess I'm capable of doe eyes myself.
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