I had a physical at the end of July, had some routine blood work done, and besides a cholesterol level that is a little higher than it should be, I'm doing pretty well. My husband was having some issues and went to the doctor and 3 weeks later, had his gall bladder removed. Today, we went to HIS physical. The doctor had asked that I be there. We weren't sure why but assumed that it would be to talk to him about his weight and that I be there as a support system.
Well, HIS talk turned into OUR talk.
Contrary to popular belief, this doctor was NOT a giant douche bag when it came to this discussion. He's a cool guy and easy to talk to, and honestly, it's not like it's a secret that we are both overweight. He admitted that talking to people about stuff like weight or body odor is very awkward, even for a doctor. He doesn't like to make people feel uncomfortable, but wants to help. So, broaching the subject wasn't tremendously awful.
The good news is that in 1 month, my husband has lost 17 lbs. He was following a low-fat diet leading up to the gall bladder removal, had surgery, and also didn't eat for about 4 days.
I, on the other hand, probably gained at least 5 or more this month from choosing junk ALL OF THE TIME. I err on the side of cookies, cake, sweets, anything. I make everything a vehicle for sugar. Hello, iced coffee, let me put some chocolate syrup in you. Yum! I also don't just eat when I'm hungry. I reach for sugar in the time of need. If I'm feeling sad, I always reach to sugar for comfort.
The frustrating part for me is that I KNOW THAT I DO THIS. I can identify my problems and yet still continue to go down this road.
Over lunch, my husband suggested that maybe I see a therapist.
It sounds weird, but I'm afraid to see one because I'll have SO many feelings. I'll be a basketcase every week. And yet, it's probably a good decision. I know that a lot of my problems with food are emotionally based. I don't think that the doctor, or the nutritionist, will be dealing with THAT side of things.
So, anyway, as we were discussing this over lunch, I started to get really overwhelmed and crazy about stuff. My knee/leg is still an issue. I am in the process of seeing a physical therapist and am, hopefully, strengthening myself enough to start running again. BUT, I have to stop thinking so far ahead and just focus on the "here and now".
But, if I'm being truly honest here, I think that my main issue is that I already did this. I succeeded. And then...I failed. I failed myself. I failed all of my hard work. And I gained 50 lbs in 2 years. I am only about 30 lbs down from where I first began this "journey" in 2009. I let my laziness and my excuses win. And I failed all of those people who supported me. I feel overwhelmed by the prospect of doing all of this work AGAIN. These are the same goddamn pounds. I already lost them once. And some of these pounds, I've gained and lost a few times already.
I am overwhelmed. And I feel like I don't know where to start. But I know exactly what I have to do. I just have to choose to do it. I don't know if the nutritionist will help, or if the doctor will be an ally to us in this process. I don't know if I have the strength to do this again.
I like to think I have all of the answers, but in this case, I'm...lost.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
My Own Worst Enemy
I am my own worst enemy.
I treat myself far worse than any one person ever has. I berate myself. I judge myself. I constantly find fault with anything that I'm doing. I don't trust my abilities.
On January 1, 2011, I was at my lowest adult weight. I was feeling great about myself. I was happy. I was healthy. I felt invincible. And now, fast forward 2 1/2 years and I am 50 lbs heavier than I was at that point. I am unhappy. I am not exactly healthy. I am lazy. And I am fearful.
In May, I injured my knee at a dance audition. I was "getting back out there", auditioning for the first time since starting at the museum, over a year earlier. I realized that I was losing myself in my work and not allowing the musical side of me to ever really be seen. (Sure, I had gone back to voice lessons last August. But that has presented its own challenges that I'm sure I'll get to shortly.) Anyway, I went out for 2 different shows in a span of a week. I felt great about my audition, except for the part where I may have sprained my knee and couldn't walk. I sang really well, probably the best I ever have in an audition setting. But, alas, I was not what they were looking for. Not even a callback. This business is rough, even on the community level. No one knows me, so I don't get cast. And I also realize that my voice is a bit of an anomaly when it comes to community theater. I'm not cast in ensembles usually, unless the rest of the audition pool is big voices. They can't use me. I may get a supporting role, but due to my size, I'll probably never see a leading role. And I may be "amazing" and "talented" (according to other people), but if I'm not getting cast, there's obviously a problem, right?
Sometimes I wonder if I can even consider myself a "singer", or more specifically, an "opera singer". I am a person that sings arias from operas at her lesson. I have not performed in an opera in over 5 years. I have not auditioned for anything opera-related in, at least, that long. I was moved to return to voice lessons after a 2 year hiatus after seeing a friend of mine perform last summer. I hadn't been singing seriously in too long and needed to do that for myself. I've changed fachs. It's a bit of a mind-fuck. Having spent my entire life as a mezzo and then to be exploring soprano rep and learning how to use my voice all over again...it's quite a mess. I was told that singing is 90% psychological. And you bet I'm trying to sabotage myself with every bit of that 90%. I don't know how to trust the sound. I don't know how to trust myself. And when I feel like it's good, I also don't feel like I can say that. I get very self-conscious. I don't want to be seen as egotistical or vain, but I end up berating myself in the process.
Like many of us out there, I am very good at berating myself. I come up with new and creative ways to do so. And since I injured my knee, I've been especially good at it. IT'S AN INJURY. You can't rush yourself back to doing all of the activity you were before due to risk of reinjury. But, my mind won't have it. I just keep saying "it's an excuse", "this is why you're fat". No, the reason why I'm fat is because I choose Ben & Jerry's over fruits and veggies. (And because I "eat" my feelings.) I make excuses. And then I get sad about it and find it even harder to try and refocus.
And, in the meantime, I find myself at work all the time and not having the energy or the drive to do anything afterwards. I pull away from friends. I just want to be at home, quiet. (I suppose this is a normal reaction of a tour guide...but people don't necessarily understand that.) And again, the vicious cycle of self-deprecation comes up. "I'm a bad friend", "I have no friends because I'm a bad friend", "I'm a bad person".
As I write this, I'm amazed at how I can say these things to myself and keep allowing it to happen. I wouldn't let someone else treat me that way, and yet, I find it perfectly acceptable when I do it.
I was hoping that I'd feel better after saying all of this, but I don't think that's happening. *sigh*
I have a great job. I have a loving husband. I am lucky that my knee injury didn't require surgery. My voice is starting to bloom in ways that I never thought it would. I have good people in my life. I need to remember these things. I need to focus on these things to get me through the doldrums.
And maybe, just maybe, I should put on my knee brace and just see if I can jog a little. I miss running. I miss races. But most of all, I miss who I was when I was running.
I treat myself far worse than any one person ever has. I berate myself. I judge myself. I constantly find fault with anything that I'm doing. I don't trust my abilities.
On January 1, 2011, I was at my lowest adult weight. I was feeling great about myself. I was happy. I was healthy. I felt invincible. And now, fast forward 2 1/2 years and I am 50 lbs heavier than I was at that point. I am unhappy. I am not exactly healthy. I am lazy. And I am fearful.
In May, I injured my knee at a dance audition. I was "getting back out there", auditioning for the first time since starting at the museum, over a year earlier. I realized that I was losing myself in my work and not allowing the musical side of me to ever really be seen. (Sure, I had gone back to voice lessons last August. But that has presented its own challenges that I'm sure I'll get to shortly.) Anyway, I went out for 2 different shows in a span of a week. I felt great about my audition, except for the part where I may have sprained my knee and couldn't walk. I sang really well, probably the best I ever have in an audition setting. But, alas, I was not what they were looking for. Not even a callback. This business is rough, even on the community level. No one knows me, so I don't get cast. And I also realize that my voice is a bit of an anomaly when it comes to community theater. I'm not cast in ensembles usually, unless the rest of the audition pool is big voices. They can't use me. I may get a supporting role, but due to my size, I'll probably never see a leading role. And I may be "amazing" and "talented" (according to other people), but if I'm not getting cast, there's obviously a problem, right?
Sometimes I wonder if I can even consider myself a "singer", or more specifically, an "opera singer". I am a person that sings arias from operas at her lesson. I have not performed in an opera in over 5 years. I have not auditioned for anything opera-related in, at least, that long. I was moved to return to voice lessons after a 2 year hiatus after seeing a friend of mine perform last summer. I hadn't been singing seriously in too long and needed to do that for myself. I've changed fachs. It's a bit of a mind-fuck. Having spent my entire life as a mezzo and then to be exploring soprano rep and learning how to use my voice all over again...it's quite a mess. I was told that singing is 90% psychological. And you bet I'm trying to sabotage myself with every bit of that 90%. I don't know how to trust the sound. I don't know how to trust myself. And when I feel like it's good, I also don't feel like I can say that. I get very self-conscious. I don't want to be seen as egotistical or vain, but I end up berating myself in the process.
Like many of us out there, I am very good at berating myself. I come up with new and creative ways to do so. And since I injured my knee, I've been especially good at it. IT'S AN INJURY. You can't rush yourself back to doing all of the activity you were before due to risk of reinjury. But, my mind won't have it. I just keep saying "it's an excuse", "this is why you're fat". No, the reason why I'm fat is because I choose Ben & Jerry's over fruits and veggies. (And because I "eat" my feelings.) I make excuses. And then I get sad about it and find it even harder to try and refocus.
And, in the meantime, I find myself at work all the time and not having the energy or the drive to do anything afterwards. I pull away from friends. I just want to be at home, quiet. (I suppose this is a normal reaction of a tour guide...but people don't necessarily understand that.) And again, the vicious cycle of self-deprecation comes up. "I'm a bad friend", "I have no friends because I'm a bad friend", "I'm a bad person".
As I write this, I'm amazed at how I can say these things to myself and keep allowing it to happen. I wouldn't let someone else treat me that way, and yet, I find it perfectly acceptable when I do it.
I was hoping that I'd feel better after saying all of this, but I don't think that's happening. *sigh*
I have a great job. I have a loving husband. I am lucky that my knee injury didn't require surgery. My voice is starting to bloom in ways that I never thought it would. I have good people in my life. I need to remember these things. I need to focus on these things to get me through the doldrums.
And maybe, just maybe, I should put on my knee brace and just see if I can jog a little. I miss running. I miss races. But most of all, I miss who I was when I was running.
Monday, April 29, 2013
To heal
Written on April 25, 2013:
10 days later and I still don’t know exactly how to process the events that unfolded at the finish line of the 117th Boston Marathon on April 15. I don’t know if I’ve fully grieved for my city yet. I had 2 days of shock, some moments of almost breaking down on a city bus, lots of emotion at an otherwise unrelated work event, and sobbing while watching videos of National Anthems from various sporting events. The montage at the Bruins game was probably the thing that hit me the hardest. The musical soundtrack was Phillip Phillips’ “Home”. (I thought it was Mumford, which shows you how “hip” and “with it” I am.)
Hold on to me as we go,
As we roll down this unfamiliar road.
And although this wait is stringing us along,
Just know you’re not alone,
I’m gonna make this place your home.
Settle down, it’ll all be clear.
Don’t pay no mind to the demons, they fill you with fear.
The trouble, it might drag you down,
If you get lost, you can always be found.
Just know you’re not alone,
‘cause i’m gonna make this place your home.
Boston has always been a special place for marathoners. If you’ve “run Boston”, then you are something. If you qualify for Boston, that’s HUGE. Marathon Monday is the biggest homegrown event, and a lot of people’s favorite day of the year. I’ve lived in Boston for almost 9 years now and I’ve never had the privilege of actually watching the Marathon live. I’ve always had to work, as it’s a “holiday”, and people always seemed to request it off. Sure, I read about it in the news, but never truly SAW it. This year was a bit different. I had a much better window into the event now that I’m working on tourism on a full-time basis. We were able to meet a lot of runners and their families and on Sunday, I went down to the Hynes Convention Center to collect our booth from the Runner’s Expo. (I had wanted nothing more than to be our representative at the Expo, but scheduling didn’t allow it to be me.) I sat in the car, making sure we didn’t get towed, and saw a sea of blue and yellow Marathon jackets. The energy in the air was palpable. People were so happy and so excited. We drove down the street, coming upon the finish line, and I was imagining how you must feel when you get to that point. I, myself, have never made it more than a 10K, and so far, that’s a great goal for me. I am a finish line crier. I am always overwhelmed by emotion at that point. I can only imagine the intense feelings that one feels finishing Boston.
About 1/3 of the field was not able to finish. And after 10 days, the toll of injuries has risen to 264 people. 3 people lost their lives on Marathon Monday, and a brave cop was shot in his car at MIT. The magnitude of this day is hard to comprehend. It’s still almost unbelievable to think that it happened about 2 miles from my place of business, places that I go to on a semi-regular basis. The Boston Public Library has been closed for 10 days. I have 3 books sitting in my apartment...wondering when I should take them back. I want to visit the memorial. I am also afraid of the emotions that might come.
Like many people, this transported me back to 9/11. I was 22 years old, at IUP, and seemingly, worlds away from any danger. I didn’t understand that day. I didn’t know what to feel. People around me cried a lot. I was glued to the news, hoping it would give us answers. I think it gave me more questions than answers. I felt like the danger of that day wouldn’t....COULDN’T touch me. I was in Western PA, in the middle of nowhere. I was confused when my family was calling my house, wondering if I was okay, after the plane went down somewhere in PA. My Western PA geography wasn’t that great, so I wasn’t sure where that was. All I knew was that I was fine and I didn’t know why people were reacting like this. I didn’t “get it”.
And now, 12 years later...I get it. Unfortunately, I get it. I’ll never understand why these things happen, or what turns people into a radicalized version of themselves, or why religion would cause anyone to do harm to others. But, I do understand how this shatters a sense of safety that we had built up in the years following 9/11. You never think it can happen “here”. You never think that you’ll be impacted by something like this. I was lucky that I had decided to stay home that day. I had considered going down to watch. More than likely, I would’ve gone to Brookline, as the crowds are thinner and the drunk college kids don’t seem to be around there, but I could’ve gone to the finish line. A friend of mine was there. He was waiting to photograph a friend who was running her first marathon. He invited me to go with him. I stayed home, and he happened to be in a different spot. But a lot of “what ifs” occur from that day...
At least 3 people weren’t so lucky.
But this day showed that in SOME ways we were very lucky. The right people were around. So many people were saved by the heroism that showed itself in ordinary citizens. I am humbled to say that these people are MY people.
I may not have been born here, but Boston, you’re my home.
Continued on April 29, 2013:
There was a time in my life, for a few short years, that I took great pride in my health and my efforts to be the best “me”. I don’t know where that “me” has gone. I should be happy with my life. I finally have a job that I love, I married my best friend, and yet, I keep making excuses because I don’t want to fight for the good things. I allow my life to slip away, day after day, and just talk about it. I don’t know where my motivation went. I don’t know why I can’t find it again. Everyday, I have a long conversation with myself about how I can do this. I’ve done it before, and I shouldn’t have stopped in the first place. I let laziness in and we all know that it can be a killer.
I get dressed on a daily basis and feel unhappy. I lumber through life again, instead of having a spring in my step. I feel tired and sloth-like, at best. I choose “easy”. I choose disgusting, packaged “food”, instead of filling my body with good things. I choose television and internet over ANYTHING even remotely physical.
I want to sing. I want to dance. I want to run. I want to do so many things, and yet, can’t quite make those thoughts connect to my body.
The Boston Marathon is a day to celebrate life and the great achievement of running 26.2 miles. I don’t know if I’ll ever step up to that line, but I do know that I have to find a way to make my life worth living again. I need to feel GOOD again. We all need to heal. Maybe my best chance at healing everything is to toe the line. To take a step. And another. And another.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
Underneath the wagon...
I haven't just fallen off of the wagon, I think I got run over by said wagon. The last 4 months have been the most stressful and yet, the most wonderful of my life.
On October 7th, I got married. It was such a beautiful, honest, fun, exhilarating day. I do not regret anything about that day. It was so amazing and I felt more beautiful that day than I ever have in my life. Of course, I could've worked out more (at all), done push-ups to tone my arms, etc, etc. But, I didn't. And I was still a beautiful bride. I was marrying my best friend, surrounded by my friends and family and I was as happy as one person could possibly be.
I am still struggling with living in the "real world", as far as working a job with normal-people hours. I have about an hour commute to and from work, and that seriously eats up my day. For the last month, we were running around getting ready for a HUGE event. Working 70 hour weeks. Rewarding ourselves with pastrami sandwiches and cookies. I am on my feet all day and honestly, the last thing I want to do when I come home is work out or run. I also find it very difficult to eat properly at work. Often times, I'll bring far less food that I should and I know that my body is going into starvation mode, just fighting me at every turn. If I took the time to prepare, I may be able to make more of the 10-15 minutes of "me time" I may get at work. I've been in this "new" job now for 6 months and haven't made much progress in the "getting back on track" area.
Since getting married, I have gained 15 pounds. Yup. My clothes are to the point of being tight and unappealing, again. And honestly, I can't wear most of the items in my drawers or closet. Luckily, I wear a costume at work, so I don't need to worry about that most days. But, I barely have anything worth wearing right now. 2 pairs of jeans that fit, kind of, but need that day of stretching out to really look not SO awful. They look awful, but not SO awful. I began comforting myself with food, joking about "stress eating" at work...with two men...who are losing weight, while I'm packing it on for all of us. I pull my colonial stay (like a corset) tighter and wish that I could wear it under my normal clothes and that it would make everything okay.
There was a time when my health was a priority in my life. Now, granted, at that time, I absolutely hated my job and found the only thing that I could control was my new-found love of working out. I got a thrill out of eating well, discussing it with friends, feeling somewhat self-righteous about turning down pastries and fatty foods, and watching the weight disappear. I felt good about myself. I felt good about the hard work I was doing. And then something changed...
I got lazy. I got complacent. I figured, "huh, I've done all this work, what harm could one cookie do?". One cookie turned into two turned into a whole box. I signed up for road races without training, thinking that my past experience would carry me through, and I ended up berating myself the entire time, effectively turning myself off of running for almost the entirety of 2012. I ran one race in 2012. I reluctantly did the Gobble x3 on Thanksgiving Day, having signed up a full 4-5 weeks ahead of time, with wonderful plans of training for this race. Hurricane Sandy, a Nor'Easter and a few other unforeseeable things crashed onto my days off and there I was, lining up on Race Day feeling inadequate and quite awful about myself. That morning, I tried on my Saucony running tights. They did not fit. You know it's bad when you no longer fit into your workout clothes.
And yet, here I am, a month later, having not changed a thing, and probably worse off than I was then. I certainly didn't make any changes of habit in the last month. I just continued to "stress eat", jamming anything I could into my mouth, and watching my clothes get tighter. This fight hurts so much because I had done so much to succeed before, and here I am, 50 lbs heavier than my lowest weight, on Jan 1, 2011. And only 40 lbs lighter than my heaviest in Sept 2009 when I began this epic journey. I am so disappointed in myself. I am disappointed that I let this happen. I read every article that says that most people who have lost a lot of weight tend to gain it back within 5 years. I boasted that that wouldn't be me. I wouldn't let it beat me. I knew how it worked. I owned that "system". I had kicked it's ass. I had kicked almost 90 lbs of it's ass.
And yet, 2 years later...I am in that same mental place of self-deprecation and disgust. Why did I allow this to happen? How do I get back on track and leave the negative thoughts behind? Am I ready to do this again? I know what I need to do. I need to find the strength to do it. Sometimes I don't feel like I have that strength anymore. But I know that I need to do something because I feel awful. Mentally, physically, emotionally.
This blog used to be a place for me to express anything and everything regarding this journey. I neglected it. I neglected myself. And through all of it, I didn't neglect the ONE thing that I should have....food. Food is not my friend. Food is not a comfort. Food is fuel. Period. I need to get back to that place where I felt good when I was eating veggies and fruit and could feel full on one plateful. I don't want to be one of those New Year's Resolution people who fail by January 15. I can't help that the calendar says December 26th. I just need a fresh start. I need to regain my life and remember why I did this in the first place...
On October 7th, I got married. It was such a beautiful, honest, fun, exhilarating day. I do not regret anything about that day. It was so amazing and I felt more beautiful that day than I ever have in my life. Of course, I could've worked out more (at all), done push-ups to tone my arms, etc, etc. But, I didn't. And I was still a beautiful bride. I was marrying my best friend, surrounded by my friends and family and I was as happy as one person could possibly be.
I am still struggling with living in the "real world", as far as working a job with normal-people hours. I have about an hour commute to and from work, and that seriously eats up my day. For the last month, we were running around getting ready for a HUGE event. Working 70 hour weeks. Rewarding ourselves with pastrami sandwiches and cookies. I am on my feet all day and honestly, the last thing I want to do when I come home is work out or run. I also find it very difficult to eat properly at work. Often times, I'll bring far less food that I should and I know that my body is going into starvation mode, just fighting me at every turn. If I took the time to prepare, I may be able to make more of the 10-15 minutes of "me time" I may get at work. I've been in this "new" job now for 6 months and haven't made much progress in the "getting back on track" area.
Since getting married, I have gained 15 pounds. Yup. My clothes are to the point of being tight and unappealing, again. And honestly, I can't wear most of the items in my drawers or closet. Luckily, I wear a costume at work, so I don't need to worry about that most days. But, I barely have anything worth wearing right now. 2 pairs of jeans that fit, kind of, but need that day of stretching out to really look not SO awful. They look awful, but not SO awful. I began comforting myself with food, joking about "stress eating" at work...with two men...who are losing weight, while I'm packing it on for all of us. I pull my colonial stay (like a corset) tighter and wish that I could wear it under my normal clothes and that it would make everything okay.
There was a time when my health was a priority in my life. Now, granted, at that time, I absolutely hated my job and found the only thing that I could control was my new-found love of working out. I got a thrill out of eating well, discussing it with friends, feeling somewhat self-righteous about turning down pastries and fatty foods, and watching the weight disappear. I felt good about myself. I felt good about the hard work I was doing. And then something changed...
I got lazy. I got complacent. I figured, "huh, I've done all this work, what harm could one cookie do?". One cookie turned into two turned into a whole box. I signed up for road races without training, thinking that my past experience would carry me through, and I ended up berating myself the entire time, effectively turning myself off of running for almost the entirety of 2012. I ran one race in 2012. I reluctantly did the Gobble x3 on Thanksgiving Day, having signed up a full 4-5 weeks ahead of time, with wonderful plans of training for this race. Hurricane Sandy, a Nor'Easter and a few other unforeseeable things crashed onto my days off and there I was, lining up on Race Day feeling inadequate and quite awful about myself. That morning, I tried on my Saucony running tights. They did not fit. You know it's bad when you no longer fit into your workout clothes.
And yet, here I am, a month later, having not changed a thing, and probably worse off than I was then. I certainly didn't make any changes of habit in the last month. I just continued to "stress eat", jamming anything I could into my mouth, and watching my clothes get tighter. This fight hurts so much because I had done so much to succeed before, and here I am, 50 lbs heavier than my lowest weight, on Jan 1, 2011. And only 40 lbs lighter than my heaviest in Sept 2009 when I began this epic journey. I am so disappointed in myself. I am disappointed that I let this happen. I read every article that says that most people who have lost a lot of weight tend to gain it back within 5 years. I boasted that that wouldn't be me. I wouldn't let it beat me. I knew how it worked. I owned that "system". I had kicked it's ass. I had kicked almost 90 lbs of it's ass.
And yet, 2 years later...I am in that same mental place of self-deprecation and disgust. Why did I allow this to happen? How do I get back on track and leave the negative thoughts behind? Am I ready to do this again? I know what I need to do. I need to find the strength to do it. Sometimes I don't feel like I have that strength anymore. But I know that I need to do something because I feel awful. Mentally, physically, emotionally.
This blog used to be a place for me to express anything and everything regarding this journey. I neglected it. I neglected myself. And through all of it, I didn't neglect the ONE thing that I should have....food. Food is not my friend. Food is not a comfort. Food is fuel. Period. I need to get back to that place where I felt good when I was eating veggies and fruit and could feel full on one plateful. I don't want to be one of those New Year's Resolution people who fail by January 15. I can't help that the calendar says December 26th. I just need a fresh start. I need to regain my life and remember why I did this in the first place...
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Fach This
I walked into my voice lesson in 2 years as a mezzo-soprano.
Within 5 minutes of singing, I was no longer considered one.
This is terrifying. And exciting. And mind-blowing.
As a singer, you are your fach. Your fach defines you. (Fach is your vocal designation, mezzo-soprano, lyric coloratura soprano, etc.)You have to find a place to "fit" into the operatic world. Many times your fach and your body may not match, so people tell you to change your body, or you'll be lucky and they'll "adapt" to you because you're the right voice. For a long time, I had no idea what I should be singing. We tried everything. Handel to Mozart to Rossini to Verdi, and nothing really worked. I had a lot of technical issues that needed to be fixed, and after they were, we settled in on "dramatic mezzo-soprano" rep.
I vaguely remember Anna saying that she didn't think I was a mezzo many years ago, but I chose to ignore her. I AM A MEZZO!!!! Maybe she's a psychic. Or she obviously heard something that I could not, or would not.
In the last year or so, I have noticed some changes in my voice, but thought that maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe I was making the placement wrong, which is why it feels that way in my middle voice, or whatever. I wasn't listening to my body. But, I was noticing that my upper register was very full and very easy. Weird, especially for a gal who had a hard time singing above an A for most of her life.
I am having an interesting time processing this information. Am I making a big deal out of nothing? probably. Is this going to be good for me? Yes. I expected that I would be hoarse after a full hour's worth of operatic singing, which I haven't done in a long time. I felt good at the end of the lesson, and probably could've sang longer. And the scariest part about it was that the soprano rep that I was singing felt easy and felt good.
I'm supposed to buy the Adler Soprano volume. *sigh*
(But, I'm a mezzo...I have the mezzo volume...and all of those other mezzo books...and I know those songs...waaaahhhhhh...)
This is so weird. I'm a soprano? A DRAMATIC SOPRANO?!
Should I try to ignore this "designation" and just sing? Just sing my heart out, find what feels right and stay the course? Yes.
So, until then....I guess all I can say is...
Fach this.
Within 5 minutes of singing, I was no longer considered one.
This is terrifying. And exciting. And mind-blowing.
As a singer, you are your fach. Your fach defines you. (Fach is your vocal designation, mezzo-soprano, lyric coloratura soprano, etc.)You have to find a place to "fit" into the operatic world. Many times your fach and your body may not match, so people tell you to change your body, or you'll be lucky and they'll "adapt" to you because you're the right voice. For a long time, I had no idea what I should be singing. We tried everything. Handel to Mozart to Rossini to Verdi, and nothing really worked. I had a lot of technical issues that needed to be fixed, and after they were, we settled in on "dramatic mezzo-soprano" rep.
I vaguely remember Anna saying that she didn't think I was a mezzo many years ago, but I chose to ignore her. I AM A MEZZO!!!! Maybe she's a psychic. Or she obviously heard something that I could not, or would not.
In the last year or so, I have noticed some changes in my voice, but thought that maybe I was doing something wrong. Maybe I was making the placement wrong, which is why it feels that way in my middle voice, or whatever. I wasn't listening to my body. But, I was noticing that my upper register was very full and very easy. Weird, especially for a gal who had a hard time singing above an A for most of her life.
I am having an interesting time processing this information. Am I making a big deal out of nothing? probably. Is this going to be good for me? Yes. I expected that I would be hoarse after a full hour's worth of operatic singing, which I haven't done in a long time. I felt good at the end of the lesson, and probably could've sang longer. And the scariest part about it was that the soprano rep that I was singing felt easy and felt good.
I'm supposed to buy the Adler Soprano volume. *sigh*
(But, I'm a mezzo...I have the mezzo volume...and all of those other mezzo books...and I know those songs...waaaahhhhhh...)
This is so weird. I'm a soprano? A DRAMATIC SOPRANO?!
Should I try to ignore this "designation" and just sing? Just sing my heart out, find what feels right and stay the course? Yes.
So, until then....I guess all I can say is...
Fach this.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Reminders
It's funny how the things you love find a way to creep back into your life when you've forsaken them.
Every year when I go to PA to teach at Tim's camp, I am reminded of all of the great times in my life that were spent in a band room. I loved to play the clarinet in an ensemble setting. I never really had the drive to be a solo clarinetist. It's been a long time since I played...probably at least 6 years...until today. While in PA, I made some copies of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto and the Weber Concertino. I wasn't sure if I'd actually use them, but I knew that if I wanted to, they would be there for me. I pulled the clarinet out of the closet and amazed myself by how quickly my fingers moved through the music, as if my brain wasn't even really "reading" it, that it was just THERE. The mind is an interesting thing.
I had also been doing some thinking about my singing lately. I haven't taken a formal voice lesson in over 2 years. I let the politics of community theater get into my head and make me question my abilities. I was not happy when I was singing. I wasn't loving the process anymore. I was finding it tedious, due to many outside factors. But, deep down, I love to perform. I know that. I want to sing, even if it's just in my apartment, or at Anna's house. I want to find myself again.
I went to see the Boston Lyric Opera perform with the Boston Landmarks Orchestra at the Hatch Shell the other night. I saw a dear friend of mine, performing with them, having worked so hard over the last 6 years to get to this point. It was a bittersweet moment for me. I know that I was far behind her in ability while at Longy, so I know that I wouldn't be at the same place that she is. BUT, it got me thinking, and made me realize that I truly miss singing. I also happened to run into our former voice teacher afterwards. It was almost like serendipity. I did some thinking on the way home and later that night, I emailed her and asked if she would take me back. I explained how I had lost my way and I just wanted to find it again. She helped me once, she built me up after I had been beaten down so badly. I'm hoping that she'll be able to guide me again.
I am lucky to have a job that is creative and theatrical, but I am not used to a theatrical production that doesn't involve music. And due to the last few months of work stuff, and my upcoming wedding, I am pretty much "out of commission" until the winter at the earliest. I am hoping that I'll find something to put my creative energy into come spring, but you never can tell what the groups around will be doing. A lot of groups are doing very contemporary works and that is not my voice. I may also throw my hat into the local opera ring if there is anything right for me.
*sigh*
As I'm going through Bob Harper's "Are You Ready!" book, I came upon the "Me Time" section. This talks about making room for things to keep us grounded and better in touch with who we are and how we feel. I know that it is no coincidence that I have come to this "musical awakening" of sorts.
This week has been different for me. I have worked out 4 days already. I have been making time to do things that I love, I have been setting myself up to continue these things. I've made plans to take the ballet class and the kickboxing class that I took last fall. I am making my health a priority again and it feels good.
It feels really good.
Every year when I go to PA to teach at Tim's camp, I am reminded of all of the great times in my life that were spent in a band room. I loved to play the clarinet in an ensemble setting. I never really had the drive to be a solo clarinetist. It's been a long time since I played...probably at least 6 years...until today. While in PA, I made some copies of the Mozart Clarinet Concerto and the Weber Concertino. I wasn't sure if I'd actually use them, but I knew that if I wanted to, they would be there for me. I pulled the clarinet out of the closet and amazed myself by how quickly my fingers moved through the music, as if my brain wasn't even really "reading" it, that it was just THERE. The mind is an interesting thing.
I had also been doing some thinking about my singing lately. I haven't taken a formal voice lesson in over 2 years. I let the politics of community theater get into my head and make me question my abilities. I was not happy when I was singing. I wasn't loving the process anymore. I was finding it tedious, due to many outside factors. But, deep down, I love to perform. I know that. I want to sing, even if it's just in my apartment, or at Anna's house. I want to find myself again.
I went to see the Boston Lyric Opera perform with the Boston Landmarks Orchestra at the Hatch Shell the other night. I saw a dear friend of mine, performing with them, having worked so hard over the last 6 years to get to this point. It was a bittersweet moment for me. I know that I was far behind her in ability while at Longy, so I know that I wouldn't be at the same place that she is. BUT, it got me thinking, and made me realize that I truly miss singing. I also happened to run into our former voice teacher afterwards. It was almost like serendipity. I did some thinking on the way home and later that night, I emailed her and asked if she would take me back. I explained how I had lost my way and I just wanted to find it again. She helped me once, she built me up after I had been beaten down so badly. I'm hoping that she'll be able to guide me again.
I am lucky to have a job that is creative and theatrical, but I am not used to a theatrical production that doesn't involve music. And due to the last few months of work stuff, and my upcoming wedding, I am pretty much "out of commission" until the winter at the earliest. I am hoping that I'll find something to put my creative energy into come spring, but you never can tell what the groups around will be doing. A lot of groups are doing very contemporary works and that is not my voice. I may also throw my hat into the local opera ring if there is anything right for me.
*sigh*
As I'm going through Bob Harper's "Are You Ready!" book, I came upon the "Me Time" section. This talks about making room for things to keep us grounded and better in touch with who we are and how we feel. I know that it is no coincidence that I have come to this "musical awakening" of sorts.
This week has been different for me. I have worked out 4 days already. I have been making time to do things that I love, I have been setting myself up to continue these things. I've made plans to take the ballet class and the kickboxing class that I took last fall. I am making my health a priority again and it feels good.
It feels really good.
Monday, August 6, 2012
"Are You Ready!" by Bob Harper
I've been having a lot of internal struggles in the last few weeks. Seeking motivation, fighting myself, putting up barriers, making excuses, causing myself to fail time and time again. At one time, I was my biggest cheerleader. I realized that these changes could only happen if I was 100% behind myself and if I truly believed in myself. Somewhere along the way, I lost that focus. I allowed life to get in the way. I allowed the excuses to pile up, and the pounds to creep back on. No one forced me to eat. No one forced me to lay on the couch. I made these choices. No one else.
I started reading "Are You Ready!" by Bob Harper, the not-as-angry trainer from The Biggest Loser. I ordered his "Skinny Rules" as well, and as good as that is, "Are You Ready!" deals a lot with mental baggage and how to let go and trust the process and to trust yourself. His book deals with what he calls the "Inner Compass", learning how to deal with emotions and how to allow yourself to feel. Many of us push our feelings away, squash them down, and then eat to feel better. I have been working on being more honest with people and not avoiding my feelings, but I also struggle with the whole "what if they think I'm a jerk?" thing. I used to use running as a stress reliever. I have a feeling that if I got myself back on track physically, my mental stuff would clear itself up. (or at least be better...) I feel like I have a short fuse lately as well. I'm impatient and demanding. I want things to happen a certain way, and if they don't, I get snippy. This is not a good way to live.
The introspective work in this book is going to be hard. I've managed to be rather transparent while writing this blog, attempting to forget that people are actually reading it. But, am I ever 100% honest? Of course not. None of us are. For whatever reason, we don't trust who we are, we don't trust our opinions or feelings enough to let them be heard. We don't want to hurt anyone else, nor do we want to be judged for our choices. I suppose that the only time we may be 100% honest is in the comfort of a therapist's office, maybe. I have never been to therapy, so I'm not sure about that, but do you let go, finally? Sometimes I feel like I'd certainly benefit from going. But, until that day, I'll attempt to be my own therapist.
This book asks me to look deep within and be honest.
Am I Ready?
Chapter 1 tells me to follow the Three R's...Relax, Respect and Reinforce.
If I can relax and trust the process, allow myself to feel a certain level of peace, it'll happen.
If I can accept my body as it is now and respect it as the vessel it is and will be, it'll happen.
If I can reinforce the good choices, my commitment to a healthier life, it'll happen.
Bob, you ask me if I'm ready. I certainly hope so. I need to be ready. I keep letting life slip away. I had this immense focus for almost a year and a half. In that time, I lost 85 lbs. Since Jan '11, I've gained back 35 of those lbs. I want to get to my original goal of 100 lbs lost...that means 55 lbs from here.
I want to be happy. I want to be healthy. I want to live.
Am I ready?
Yes. Yes, I am.
I started reading "Are You Ready!" by Bob Harper, the not-as-angry trainer from The Biggest Loser. I ordered his "Skinny Rules" as well, and as good as that is, "Are You Ready!" deals a lot with mental baggage and how to let go and trust the process and to trust yourself. His book deals with what he calls the "Inner Compass", learning how to deal with emotions and how to allow yourself to feel. Many of us push our feelings away, squash them down, and then eat to feel better. I have been working on being more honest with people and not avoiding my feelings, but I also struggle with the whole "what if they think I'm a jerk?" thing. I used to use running as a stress reliever. I have a feeling that if I got myself back on track physically, my mental stuff would clear itself up. (or at least be better...) I feel like I have a short fuse lately as well. I'm impatient and demanding. I want things to happen a certain way, and if they don't, I get snippy. This is not a good way to live.
The introspective work in this book is going to be hard. I've managed to be rather transparent while writing this blog, attempting to forget that people are actually reading it. But, am I ever 100% honest? Of course not. None of us are. For whatever reason, we don't trust who we are, we don't trust our opinions or feelings enough to let them be heard. We don't want to hurt anyone else, nor do we want to be judged for our choices. I suppose that the only time we may be 100% honest is in the comfort of a therapist's office, maybe. I have never been to therapy, so I'm not sure about that, but do you let go, finally? Sometimes I feel like I'd certainly benefit from going. But, until that day, I'll attempt to be my own therapist.
This book asks me to look deep within and be honest.
Am I Ready?
Chapter 1 tells me to follow the Three R's...Relax, Respect and Reinforce.
If I can relax and trust the process, allow myself to feel a certain level of peace, it'll happen.
If I can accept my body as it is now and respect it as the vessel it is and will be, it'll happen.
If I can reinforce the good choices, my commitment to a healthier life, it'll happen.
Bob, you ask me if I'm ready. I certainly hope so. I need to be ready. I keep letting life slip away. I had this immense focus for almost a year and a half. In that time, I lost 85 lbs. Since Jan '11, I've gained back 35 of those lbs. I want to get to my original goal of 100 lbs lost...that means 55 lbs from here.
I want to be happy. I want to be healthy. I want to live.
Am I ready?
Yes. Yes, I am.
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