Knowing what I will and won’t do in terms of diet and exercise is directly related to my chances of success.

What I mean is this: we’ve all tried diets and failed at them. Some work for us, while others don’t. We’ve all tried different types of exercise, only to abandon them after a few weeks.

Diet and exercise are not a one-size-fits-all scenario.

Here’s what I’ve come to realize about myself.

1. Food is important to me. I’d rather step up my exercise than give up carbs long term.

2. I don’t like to sweat. But I’m getting over it.

3. I hate running.

4. I don’t like ball sports.

5. I love yoga. Too bad it doesn’t help me lose weight.

6. The no sugar no carbs thing doesn’t work for me. Mentally, anyway.

7. I’d rather work out at home than go to the gym.

8. I like the game component of exercising with my Wii.

9. I have to be willing to not let my diet rule my life completely and forgive myself when I get off track. (Like I did with that pizza last night).

10. I have to find a diet and exercise plan that I can maintain long term.

To that effect, I’m one week in to the Carb Lovers diet. I’m also stepping up my exercise and taking African Mango Extract supplements. I lost 3 pounds this week (but I’m still higher than I was pre-holidays )

A few months ago, I found a lump in my breast. I waited a few weeks to see if it went away. It didn’t, so I went to my gyno, who sent me to get an ultrasound.

The doctor who read the ultrasound said he was “pretty sure” it was a fibroadenoma (nothing to worry about), but if I wanted to be sure, I could have a biopsy.

All my friends and family said I should go ahead with the biopsy. But it wasn’t urgent, so at first I wasn’t that worried.

Then I talked to my GP, who freaked me out about the biopsy, and told me I could have a mammogram as a sort of “second opinion.” I did that. Still they suggested biopsy.

Ok, at this point, I’m getting a little worried. But I go on vacation for 3 weeks, and have my biopsy scheduled for when I get back.

Every day, it eats at me a little. What if.but no, I refuse to think that far. I tend to overdo it.

I come back (only a few breakdowns under my belt) and have the biopsy. They tell me it’ll be 2-7 days before I get the results back. I can’t imagine a week of being on edge.

Two days later (today) I hear back. I’m fine. Sigh of relief.

What I Took Away

I’m only 34, so I’ve got a few years before I have to start having mammograms. But I’m not afraid of them now after the two I’ve had. They’re really not that bad.

The biopsy wasn’t bad either. I watched the needle going in and couldn’t feel it. The worst part is I have to wait 72 hours before taking a bath and I so desperately want one. (Yes, I can shower).

Last week I “made an offering to the breast cancer gods,” and donated to Susan G. Komen. I think I’ll keep doing that.

I was prepared in the event that I got bad news. I know I’m strong enough to handle it. And one day, I might get that (or other) bad health news. I will survive, as so many have already.

I am happy to be alive and healthy. Take nothing for granted. And do your self-checks!!

Before long, a girl about 9 joined me and began to swing. We engaged in small talk. Soon we were pumping our legs in sync, seeing who could swing higher. I felt her age.

“Lean backwards like this!” she demonstrated falling back and looking behind her on the swing.

Before I could let my usual adult excuses kick in, I leaned back. I felt exhilaration, fear, and the familiar.

“It makes me a little uncomfortable to do that, but at the same time, I like it,” she explained in uncanny adult language.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

After that lesson, she also urged me to close my eyes while swinging. I got that same mix of fear and freedom.

Why as adults do we lose the ability to let go like this? Why did it take a stranger — a child to get me to free myself, if only for 5 minutes?

photo credit: tazmany

For my husband, it’s great. Max is more physical now, which means they wrestle and fight a lot while I look on over the book I’m reading. I don’t resent them spending more time together; I’m glad of it. I just feel a little…well, empty.

And in place of snuggling up with me, he’s arguing with me. The Hub and I recognize that it’s a power struggle, but it’s one I’m not interested in engaging. Today I took away his iPhone in an effort to show him that arguing relentlessly has consequences. He seemed to get it.

I feel like we’re already embarking on teendom, and I’m not ready. After all, he’s only 7!

A few months ago, we got a new client. Work for them has steadily increased, to the point that I’m working toward having 4 writers do the work. Four! That’s the most I’ve ever had.

And I took a very big step recently. I’ve handed over the complete administration to one of my writers. It’s a huge step in trust, to know that she can handle the client and won’t make my company look bad. It’s a huge step for a control freak to remove myself from the equation completely.

I feel amazing.

I feel like a huge weight has been lifted, and I feel like this is a good step toward more growth. Once I see that I’m not needed in every project we take on, we can do a lot more.

It frees me up to work on the projects I love doing, and it gives my writers more responsibility (and money).

Life is good.

Photo: Flickr user RambergMediaImages. Creative Commons 2.0.

But when I was at BlogWorld last week, I started thinking about all my blogs (yes, all bajillion of them) and what I wanted to get out of them.

I’m going to be more forgiving when I don’t have time (or anything) to write. I’m going to focus on stories more. My opinions. Yes, Maxisms, of course. I’m going to stop worrying about keeping all 5 of my readers entertained. I’m taking it back to why I started this blog: it’s for me.

So if you enjoy my posts, thank you. I’m not trying for SEO or traffic or monetization. It’s just a sounding board for me to get away from the marketing and entrepreneur side of my life, and to talk about myself.

Photo: Flickr user notsogoodphotography. Creative Commons.

Last weekend was Birthday Weekend. Because The Hub’s birthday is a day before mine, we usually combine them and celebrate. For days. We opted out of going out and leaving Max with a babysitter (he’s got issues there these days) and instead ate and drank ourselves into comas. Twice.

The celebration continues all week long for me. I’m a fan of the prolonged birthday celebration. Went shopping with one friend Monday and took off work completely (something I’m still recovering from, work-wise). Then yesterday I got to hang out with another friend who was taking a mental health day. And this Sunday, I’m having brunch with all my girlfriends. Yay me.

We went to Max’s school carnival. And we’re doing soccer every week. There just doesn’t seem to be any time to do the fun things like the Boo Parade or Halloween at SeaWorld. Where does the time go?

I know the rest of the year will be the same flurry of activity. I’m looking forward to it, and not, at the same time.

PS After talking about it for years, I am dressing up as Wonder Woman at my Halloween party. GO me. No, no pics will be posted!!

Photo: Flickr user somebox. Creative Commons 2.0.

But I’m getting over my phobia of sweating, gradually. I started working out with the hub, who sweats bullets – no literally – his sweat drops are that big. Anyway I now take sweat to mean the exercise is working. And that feels good.

But that cooldown shower? I look forward to it more than anything.

No? Well then I’m the only one.

I’ve noticed that every time a friend from high school or college pops up, I’m whirled back to that time. I think about who I was and how I’ve changed. It’s a weird feeling. Because I’m so different. And yet the same.

And there’s something about talking to someone, even after 15 years, who once knew you better than anyone. And you wonder what they know about you now that you don’t realize about yourself.

Right now I’m rolling back to early college, before I met (well, dated) my husband, back when my roommate and I partied every weekend (Goldfish and Kool-Aid, mom, don’t worry) and the biggest stress in my life was the 100 pages I needed to read for my Lit class.

In some ways, I idealize the girl I was: she was much more carefree than I am. She led and others followed. She tried new things.

But I’m more successful and richer than she was.

So nanny nanny boo boo, old self.

But how do I feel about gray hair?

PS: this is not my gray hair. I pluck ‘em!

My mom still hardly has any gray. I guess I was riding on the hope that I’d end up like her, and not my grandma, who started graying in her 20s. Hmm. Maybe not.

More and more, when I look in the mirror, I see a stray gray or two. I’ve been coloring my hair since I was 16, so I’m faced with 2 choices:

1. Keep coloring it; why stop now?

2. Be hard core and embrace my gray and let it shine.

The Hub says I’m being vain and that I should just show my gray. But I say by stopping the coloring I’m acting differently because of it. What do you think?

I don’t want to be bothered by gray hair, or by aging, but it’s definitely on my mind these days. And I’m not ready!

How do you deal with aging? Do you embrace it gracefully, or fight it, kicking and screaming?