Monday was mellow - cleaning up, finishing up packing, saying our goodbyes, and getting ready to leave.  We loaded on a Tropic Air flight for the mainland at about 2 p.m., traveling to Belize City for our 4:50 flight to Dallas.  The trip home was much smoother than the trip down - our connection in Dallas was tight (1.5 hours, which isn’t that much when you factor in customs & immigration, re-checking bags, and re-clearing security) but it went efficiently and smoothly and we had just enough time to grab burgers before hopping on our flight to SFO.  We landed and our bags were off the carousel less than 10 minutes later, just in time to call Beth as she was exiting the freeway to pick us up.  So although it was a late night, at least everything was on time.

Fortunately, my meeting in Burbank on Tuesday was canceled, so I had a day working from home to recover.  It was nice to be able to catch up on emails and documents and multi-task by getting laundry done.  Day trip on Wednesday, then a really cool training seminar in San Francisco Thursday and Friday.  Next week’s back to the travel grind for a few more weeks, then it looks like it’ll let up at least somewhat (hoping hoping hoping!).

Reality’s a bitch after 10 days in paradise, but it’s been nice to get home and cook at home and hang out with Franklin, who seems none the worse for wear for being abandoned for so long.  He was a bit clingy the first day but now seems back to his normal patterns of cuddliness.  It’s nice to have a neighbor that works from home who is willing to check in on him.

Hopped on the flight right on time and we were all strapped in and ready to go … when we were told to get back off the plane.  Apparently there was some sort of spill in the cargo hold from the previous flight, and the airline had to treat it as a hazmat situation.  Took them a few hours to bring in the crew, and only about half an hour to actually clean it up.  Found a couple other boogie attendees that we hadn’t met and passed the time griping and playing cards.

Meanwhile, we’re wondering about our shuttle flight - called Tropic Air and they said that they wouldn’t know till later in the day if they could run night flights (they are normally scheduled to end flights at 5, but will go later if they have both passengers and weather).  So, we flew to Belize City with no real assurance that we’d get anywhere further that night.  Pulled one of my bags off the belt and find it wide open with stuff falling out.  The only thing I actually lost was a bag full of vitamins (probably looked attractive to someone as a bag of pills … won’t they be disappointed).

Get through immigration and customs and are met by a Tropic Air representative who grabs our bags, tells us to check in and hustle down to the gate.  Yay - we get to get there tonight!  The flight was about 15 minutes at a low altitude to San Pedro, Ambergris Caye.  Walk across the street to our hotel, check in, and hustle down to the restaurant, where the welcome dinner is just ending.  Rich, the boogie organizer is saying his final welcomes and thank yous, and a couple friends spot us coming in, but Rich doesn’t see us.  So, I walked up behind him, put my arm on his shoulder, and grabbed the mike to announce our arrival to the group. Rich arranged for seven more dinners to be brought out and we enjoyed a fabulous welcome dinner, albeit a bit late.  What a relief to get there - we were dreading having to spend a night in Belize City and miss the festivities entirely.

Sunday dawned hot, muggy, and windy.  We rode the boat down to the landing area (about 2 miles north of the hotel/airport area) for the mandatory briefing.  I decided that I wasn’t jumping in the high winds that day - I’d rather my first landing at a small landing area with no good outs was in better conditions.  So, I hung out at the hotel for a while, then joined a few folks on a nice snorkeling trip.  Dinner that night was at the first of the local establishments listed on the boogie t-shirt (each night Rich has arranged for a different place to hang out, often with food and drink specials included).

Monday was less breezy, so I hopped on a couple loads that day.  With the amount of time each load takes, it’s not really a “jump your ass off” boogie. There’s about a 5 minute walk to the loading area at the airport, then a ride to altitude, landing, and then everyone piles into a boat to ride back to the hotel to pack, manifest, and do it again.

Tuesday I did another jump, then Wednesday was the big day for the jump into the famous Blue Hole.  Oh. My. God.  I had put together a “gutter gear” water rig with an old container and reserve that Sean had picked up in a trade, and an old PD 210 canopy that a friend from Davis had pulled out of his closet.  Strapped flotation gear around my waist and I was ready to roll.  In a way it felt like my early jumps again with a whole new set of nerves - Rich had warned us that the sensation of exiting and seeing nothing but water as far as the eye could see would be a bit unnerving.  The dive boat was pointed perpendicular to the wind line, so that gave us a reference point to know which direction to land.  When we got out to the Blue Hole, the clouds were low enough that we got about 5,000 feet, which meant that we all did hop & pops.  With the views that we were treated to, the canopy ride was the best part anyway, so we weren’t really disappointed.  It was a truly surreal jump, but absolutely spectacular.  I came in for a nice, soft landing not far from the boat, settled my canopy behind me and waited for rescue.

Noticed someone near me who didn’t seem too comfortable in the water, so I yelled “Doug, are you okay?”  Got back a definitive “No!”  I said “What do you need?”  “I need HELP!”  I asked “Are you tangled up?”  He said he was, so I swam over, trying to stay calm myself (since I’m not exactly a lifeguard).  Got over there, and he immediately chilled out and said he was okay.  The boat threw out the rescue buoy to us not long after, and we had a good laugh about it later.  Turns out he’s just not comfortable in open water and his imagination got the best of him as his canopy was inflating and deflating and pulling him a bit - he’d convinced himself that he was getting pulled under, when really he was just getting pulled a bit.  Glad I could be a calming presence and didn’t have to deal with an actual panicked swimmer dragging me underwater.

Once we were back on the boat, it was time to don our scuba gear and get underwater. I was a bit nervous since it had been over 5 years since I’d been diving, but the guides on the boat were all fantastic and took good care of us on the boat and underwater.  The first dive was quite deep - deeper than any I’d done in New Zealand.  We went down about 140 feet into the Blue Hole, checking out all the cool coral formations and underwater caves and ledges.  Back on the boat for a 30 minute ride to another dive site, where we stayed in shallower water but saw a lot more marine life.  Our next stop was Half Moon Caye, a protected bird sanctuary, where lunch was set up.  After eating we wandered a few minutes down the beach to a boobie observation deck to see red-footed boobies and frigate birds from a platform above the jungle trees.  Very cool.

Back on the boat and a quick ride to one more dive site.  By this time I was relaxed in the water and enjoyed that dive the most because I could chill out and enjoy what I was seeing rather than worrying about my gear and whether I was remembering everything I was supposed to do.

The trip back to the hotel was a long 3+ hour ride through choppy waters - I think our method of getting to the Blue Hole was much preferred!  Dropped our wet gear off with the rigger who was supervising the rinsing and washing, and got ourselves cleaned up for dinner.

Thursday dawned cool and dry … unexpected for Belize. The clouds started clearing late morning and by 2 I was on a load (needed to wait 24 hours post-scuba).  Got in two jumps before the end of the day (they shut down operations early enough to allow for a medical evac plane to take off and land in Belize City in daylight if needed.  So far we haven’t needed it, and hopefully we won’t, but it’s good to be safe.  Worst injuries so far have been scraped legs and tweaked ankles - the landing area isn’t exactly the most forgiving surface).

Yesterday was similarly cool, and I was able to do two fun jumps before I decided to stand down because of the high winds.  Chilled out in the afternoon, then gathered a group of ten for a truly memorable dinner at Elvi’s Kitchen in town.  I could write an entire post about the food here, but suffice it to say it’s amazing.  Favorite discoveries include a wonderful little bakery with delicious pastries and breads for ridiculously cheap prices, a literal hole in the wall that makes the most massive and delicious mixed seafood burrito, and Elvi’s last night, which had a wonderful buffet filled with local flavors and local ingredients.  Things here are a bit pricey, since it can be expensive to bring things onto the island, but moving a few blocks off the beach can find more reasonable prices than the beachfront locations.  I’ve picked up a bunch of bottles of hot sauce and jams to bring back so that I can have some of that local flavor at home.

We confirmed our flights back to the mainland yesterday, which is a sad reminder that the trip is almost over.  Hope to get a couple more jumps in today if the weather is favorable, and will do night scuba dives tonight.  Tomorrow I’m probably going to join in with a group that’s doing a day of touring, including cave tubing, a zip line ride, and Maya ruins.  Monday we’ll have a couple hours to enjoy the last of our vacation before we hop a 2 p.m. flight back to Belize City.

San Pedro is exactly what I think a resort area should be - not very “resorty.”  Nothing’s too fancy, and a lot of things are casual to the point of being dilapidated.  You know it’s a tourist area where the local economy is dependent on out-of-towners, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel overbuilt or overdeveloped.  The people are friendly, the vendors will approach you but there’s none of the aggressiveness that has permeated so many other tourist areas.  I could definitely come back here and happily enjoy another vacation.

I’m set for my skydiving team this year, which is exciting, but there’s a lot I need to learn (like all the 8-way competition formations!) before our first training camp in April.  But that’s fun learning.  In other fun, I started boot camp class at the Burbank gym yesterday … and it’s a wonderful ass-kicker!  Tuesdays/Thursdays for a month, though because of vacation and training, I only signed up for the first two weeks.  They seem to run sessions every month, so I’ll re-join for the session after I’m back, as well.  It’s nice to have someone to kick my butt down here since self-motivation can be hard.

Having dinner here in Burbank with a friend from graduate school - will be nice to get together and talk about something other than work for a change!

One of the reasons that I would like to have a new suit is that I am hoping to be on a team this year, with hopes of competing in regional competitions and the USPA Nationals.  I have identified what looks like a good opportunity, but till it’s finalized, I’m going to stay quiet about it.  Either way, my goals for this year are to really work on my skills and consistency, and I want to have the right tools for the job.  I have to fly a little “off” to compensate for the design of my current suits (designed to slow me down when I was heavier) so if I get a suit that fits me now, I can avoid developing bad habits that I’ll have to unlearn.

The nice thing about jumping at Skydance is that the owner of the DZ also owns Flite Suit, which makes jumpsuits.  So, I can get measured right at the DZ, and if the fit isn’t quite right, I can get it adjusted without having to send it back somewhere across the country.

In other news, I’m finally feeling mostly normal physically.  Took all this week to get the congestion out of my system, but I was able to work out again (though my cardiovascular system still wasn’t happy with me, it felt good to get back in the swing of things).  There’s a nice fitness center in the building where I work in Burbank (which is just across the street from the hotel).  I finally checked it out and decided to join since it’s only $35/month and the memberships are month-to-month, so if I end up not working on the project for some reason, or if the travel schedule slows down, it’ll be easy to cancel the membership.  They have a much nicer facility than the hotel gym (significantly larger) and also have classes, which I might start taking just for some variety in my workouts.  My gym membership up here is still on hold, since I’m hardly here enough to justify having a membership.

It’s been a tough couple weeks, actually.  El Niño (or El Fucking Niño, as I like to call it) has shown up in California with a vengeance, and it’s left us with a long stretch of fog, now followed by a long stretch of rain.  I was in Burbank (as usual) this week and our meetings finished up early, allowing me to come home Wednesday instead of the usual Thursday.  And boy was that a good thing since Thursday’s winds in Southern California were so bad that airport operations (at least for Southwest) were shut down for several hours.

It was also a good thing to get home early because I’ve managed to catch yet another round of nastiness - this time a deep hacking cough, coupled with mild congestion and lots and lots of sneezing.  The worst does seem to be over, but even a few days away from home when you’re sick is a few too many.  Add cold, dreary rain on top of that, and my body was not happy.

But, I’m home now and looking forward to another mellow weekend; this one driven as much by my energy level as the weather.

Last weekend, Saturday was decent and Sean and I took advantage of the day to check out the USS Hornet, a WWII-era aircraft carrier in Alameda.  The weather stayed mild, a mix of clouds and sun and no rain till later in the day.  We spent close to 3 hours there and could probably have spent the entire day had we read everything in there (but at some point museum fatigue sets in).  Still, quite a bit of fun!

Sunday we ventured out to Oakland’s Chinatown in the rain for dim sum at Joy Luck restaurant.  We were about the only non-Chinese faces in the place, which is usually a good sign, and we weren’t disappointed.  We gorged ourselves on cart after cart of tiny treats.

I get the impulse, really, I do.  A New Year’s Resolution to change your fitness or eating habits seems like such a good thing (and I certainly understand the desire of businesses to capitalize on that impulse).  Heck, I even (quietly) set resolutions last year.  But rather than turning to what I like to call the “diet-industrial complex,” I tried something that I hadn’t tried before in my (then) 38 years.  I got a trainer.  I did one thing.  That one thing turned into a lot more, but to start, I just said “I will get a personal trainer so that maybe I’ll enjoy working out again.”

That one thing led to an increased focus on what I was eating (but not a diet - never, ever, ever, a diet).  A few months later it led to a larger revamp of my workout routine - from 2x/week with a trainer and some occasional workouts on my own, to joining a different (and much better) gym and working out every day, either with a trainer or on my own.  The fact that I was investing in myself with training created a desire to maximize my return on that investment by making other changes to support the work I was doing (and the money I was spending!).

What I didn’t do (and won’t do) is buy into a quick fix mentality. I didn’t buy into the diet-industrial complex and start buying Lean Cuisine or join Jenny Craig or Weight Watchers or whatever the trendy diet program is now.  If anything, I went in the opposite direction - I simplified.  Gradually, I started eating more whole foods and making my own “convenience foods.”  I paid more attention to what I was buying and where it was sourced.  Throughout the year I found that I was buying more locally-grown produce (much of it organic or organic in all but certification).  I switched to cage-free eggs at some point.  I started getting produce deliveries from a local farm.  At the end of the year I started buying organic milk and half-and-half.  This year I’m exploring local and sustainable sources of meat and am looking for ways to support local and sustainable agriculture in a more holistic and cost-effective way (for example, I’m strongly considering buying a quarter beef and sharing it - the price per pound is much lower than buying meat here and there).

But this post is not so much to talk about what I’ve done, and is more about how I’ve done it.  I didn’t set out on January 1, 2009 with any “all-or-nothing” rules (well, with one exception - I was determined to develop a daily flossing habit, and I’m happy to say it paid off with another problem-free dentist checkup this morning!).  I made one change - and gradually made more.  I’ve slipped up - I’ve had days where I revert to old habits of stress eating and eat HFCS-laden treats till I’m almost sick.  I still eat “junk food” from time to time, but I try to make it worthwhile - instead of a burger from Burger King because it’s there, I’d rather indulge in my favorite burger - Five Guys - when I happen to be traveling somewhere with a Five Guys.  The Burger King burger is just food; the Five Guys burger is a burger I truly enjoy.

I don’t get all my food from the “right” sources.  I still have some meat in my freezer from Costco that came from a non-sustainable CAFO-type environment.  I don’t pay all that much attention to where restaurant food is sourced - I’ll eat somewhere if I like what they’re making, or if it’s convenient, not to make a political/social statement.  But maybe, gradually, I’ll shift more of my business to the types of places that put a high value on sourcing locally and sustainably.  Gradually.

Although I enjoy my locally-sourced produce, I’ll still go to Safeway or Trader Joe’s and buy a banana or a non-organic apple or something else that might have come from far, far away.  I don’t read every single label.  I’ve eliminated most high fructose corn syrup from my diet but it slips in occasionally.  I don’t beat myself up for any of this; I just try to make good choices most of the time.

And that’s where my problem is with the typical “resolution” crowd, with the diet-industrial complex.  It fosters this “all or nothing” mentality that says “either you’re doing it all right, or you’re doing it all wrong.”  You hear similar things from the uber-political foodie crowd, trying to make people feel like unless they shop exclusively at Berkeley Bowl or Whole Foods, they’re somehow destroying the planet with every bite.

Again, it’s a matter of choices.  Life is a series of choices, every single day, and every day we wake up we have a whole bunch of them we can make.  I’m all for encouraging people to figure out what’s important to them, and then put themselves on a path to make choices that reflect those values, gradually.  All or nothing is usually doomed to failure, but some change is better than none, if that’s what you want.

Forgive yourself when you make choices that disappoint you, and move on to the next set of choices.

I started 2000 in Seattle, visiting for the holiday and to find a place to live, as I was moving back there after a year in “exile” in Los Angeles.  Technically at the beginning of 2000 I was a California resident but I’d already given notice on my apartment in LA, planned the move, and had my transfer approved for work, so it was really just a formality at that point.  Not much else about the year stands out in my memory till the end, when my friend Betsy and I did a 2-week trip to Thailand.  Wonderful place, and somewhere I’d definitely like to go back to now, as my good memories are tinged with the small pains of being an extremely overweight American (as I was then) in a country of teeny tiny people.

Of course, everyone’s memories of 2001 start and end with 9/11, but mine also included an earthquake, quitting a job for another that seemed to offer better opportunity, and being laid off from that one about 3-4 months later (and, truth be told, I was fairly miserable there).  So on 9/11, I wasn’t working, I woke up late (probably between 8 and 9) and flipped on the Today show, as was my normal ritual back then … to find out that the world had changed (but that perhaps it really hasn’t needed to … interesting opinion piece I just read on the topic here).

By 2002 I was finally employed again, and the summer’s great memory is of a trip to Tuscany with friends, where we rented a 15th-Century villa and ate great food and drank much wine and made great memories.  I haven’t been back to Italy since, but I really should get my butt over there sooner than later.  Hell, I haven’t been to Europe at all since then and I really do need to make a trip to the Continent.

2003 started badly but was also a true watershed year for me in many ways.  Over MLK weekend one of my dear friends from college took his own life.  Not immediately but soon after it was a wakeup call to me that my own sadness could head that way easily if I didn’t do something to make my life what I wanted it to be.  In February I started a weight-loss program that ultimately led me to lose 125ish lbs (some of which I put back on prior to this year, but most of that gain has come back off this year … for good, I hope).  In September I was walking to lunch with a coworker and was hit by a car, in the crosswalk, with the light … and spent six days in the local trauma center because of it.

In 2004 I finished up the initial rehab for my accident, and though everything else had improved, my left shoulder was still wonky, and I ended up having surgery on it in April.  A couple months of rehab later and I was cleared in July.  In August I got the wild hare to go make a skydive; I don’t think I told anyone i was going to do it, I just signed up on a Monday and jumped at the next available chance - that Saturday.  I don’t think I quite had a clue how much that would change my life.  At the end of ‘04 I spent three wonderful weeks in New Zealand, truly the trip of a lifetime, and seriously entertained the idea of moving there (though I didn’t ultimately do much about it).

2005 began my life of skydiving adventures.  I finished up the A license, despite all predictions that I’d probably never get there.  I took the settlement money from the aforementioned accident, quit my job and decided to play for a while.  I did a month-long road trip through Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, Utah, and Idaho, winding up in Idaho where I met Wendy for a 5-day rafting trip along the Middle Fork of the Salmon River.  That was also the year I met Sean, and we all know how well that’s turned out.

In 2006 all I really remember is wanting to be home a lot more.  I had a job that had me on the road more often than not, mostly to the east coast (first Boston, then Toronto, and Atlanta) and finally on the west coast in Southern California.  I didn’t know what I really wanted to do but I knew I wanted out of that lifestyle.

I got that opportunity in 2007, when a job came up with a start-up in Seattle.  While it was stressful, it was also (mostly) local, and I began to find some semblance of balance in my life.  For the first time in a long time, I enjoyed what I did professionally.  Alas, that was not to last, and I found myself laid off early the next year.  Towards the end of the year we lost 10 local jumpers in a plane crash, and soon after that, Franklin and Daisy brought some warmth and kitty cuddles to my life.

So 2008 started off well but I soon found myself at a crossroads.  Laid off (didn’t see it coming but in retrospect, many of the signs were right there), and not as happy in Seattle as I had been; but also saddled with the intertia that prevents making change (sell my house?  pack my stuff up?  Aaack! That’s a lot of effort and stress!).  But I somehow managed to overcome that inertia, and the fact that my job offer came with a moving package helped with some of that stress.

Still, the stress wasn’t entirely relieved till the beginning of 2009, when, after 5 months, I was able to sell my house in Seattle, and relax the financial strain of carrying both a mortgage and a rent payment.  Despite barely being able to afford it, I started personal training with Noah in January, and it’s been one of the best investments I’ve ever made, hands down, since it is 100% an investment in myself.

Though I never posted it, I’ll include it here because it’s a good snapshot of where I was a year ago today:

This weekend has had me feeling a bit introspective; I suppose that’s perfectly normal for the start of a new year. It’s had me looking back on 2008, and forward to 2009.

2008 was really a hell of an eventful year. It started off with me home from a boogie, sick and cranky, and ended with me at a boogie, healthy and happy. Of course, it’s hard to control when we get those nasty little colds, but the timing couldn’t have been worse for the one I had to end 2007 as it made the start of the new year pretty dull. Not long after that I got a full-blown case of strep throat, which I don’t think I’d had since college. But all in all, save for a few colds and the few months of PT following a minor shoulder injury in June, 2008 was a pretty healthy year, and for that I am always grateful, though I admit like many I take it for granted.

Between getting laid off, making the (very large) decision to move to California, and the stress of actually making that happen, then actually being here, 2008 was probably one of my most strained in recent memory. I had a lot of meltdowns, and a lot of moments of wondering what the future would/could/should bring. While I certainly haven’t got all the loose ends tied up (there’s still the matter of that house of mine in Seattle), I feel much more settled now than I did in the middle part of the year.

It’s funny to look at the things I talked about because though I feel like the beginning of 2010 is very different from the beginning of 2009, some things remain the same:

1) That damned shoulder! I hurt it again in April 2009 and did (still more) PT on it.  The last couple months it’s been pretty cooperative, but I’m pretty sure it’ll never be 100% and will probably always be more susceptible to injury.

2) Ending the year with a nasty little cold.  Yep, I ended 2009 the same way I ended 2007 - congested!  Fortunately the timing of my boogie attendance this time was such that I was able to fully enjoy the experience before I got sick.

Other than those two things, 2008 and 2009 were pretty different years.  Sure some of the days, moods, funks, and feelings were the same, but overall, I definitely preferred 2009.  It was (generally) more healthy, more energetic, more happy, more satisfying.  I’ve had some minor fits and starts lately but in general it’s felt really great to be focused on my health so much this year.  I like that I enjoy working out now (though not right now while I can barely breathe, of course).

I set some unofficial resolutions last year; the “easy” one was to floss regularly.  For someone who was never able to get in the habit, I consider actually achieving this one to be a big deal.  My dental checkup mid-year was a great one; hoping for an equally positive one when I see my dentist next week.  I have fabulous dental benefits and I hope to only have to use them for checkups this year!

The other “hard” one was to make fitness and health improvements.  I didn’t know exactly how it would all play out - I didn’t pick a diet plan or plan a major change, I just got a trainer.  At first, that was about the only working out I did, maybe some additional walking.  Eventually I switched from 2x/week (longer sessions) to 3x/week (shorter sessions) and started filling in the other two days on my own, working out pretty hard by myself, too.  The last month or so I’ve been inconsistent, and I’m disappointed in that, but I know that I’ll dig in and get back into a good pattern soon.  Not so much a New Year’s resolution for 2010 as just something I know I’ll do.

As for 2010, I don’t know that I have any specific goals or resolutions, other than to just keep on keeping on.  I’d like to work on being more consistent with balance and perspective on the world; I find that the moments of unhappiness that creep up on me happen more when I don’t feel at balance (eating healthy, sleeping well, exercising consistently).  I’m more likely to take things personally, and I’m more likely to overreact.  I see this at work and I see it in my personal life.  If I’m getting wigged out at something that, rationally, really ought not to be that big a deal … something’s off.  So I will commit to myself to continue to do my best to be in tune with what my body and mind need at a particular moment … self-awareness goes a long way to overall physical and emotional health.

So, after a crazy busy Christmas Eve at work (surprisingly busy), I headed down to pick Sean up at the airport BART station and we hopped on a plane to Phoenix.  Getting in as late as we did, not much was open, so we picked up some milk at a convenience store to go with the cereal we’d bought, and headed on down to Eloy.  Once there we picked up the keys to our team room, a lovely 1/2 trailer converted into bunk space.  The team rooms have two sets of bunk beds, and at $40/night are a bargain even with only two people using them.  They come with a mini-fridge and a microwave, and have shared showers and bathrooms.  Most importantly, they’re on the DZ for the ultimate in convenience.

Early Christmas morning we woke up to clear, cold skies.  I called around to a couple stores and found that Safeway was open a few hours, so before we started jumping I headed up to Casa Grande to get some provisions for breakfast, lunch, and snacks for the weekend.  Once back on the DZ, I connected with the day’s organizer and got in three jumps before sunset.  The next three days I was fortunate enough to get to jump with organizers from Arizona Airspeed, which was not only great fun, but I learned a ton from the best of the best.

We had some great dinners with friends old and new over the course of the week, and as always, the DZ did a great job of putting on a great event.  I sat back and reflected on the interesting mix of people I jumped with this week - the range of nationalities (American, Brit, Peruvian, Canadian, Argentine, German, South African), and the range of professions and backgrounds and ages.  It really stuns me when I think about it: how limited my sphere was before I started skydiving and how wide it feels now.  Instead of running (exclusively) in yuppie professional circles, I’m meeting people that I probably wouldn’t have come across any other way but through this sport.  Pretty cool stuff.

So, as we close out 2009 with no more jumping planned till the new year, I stand at 596 jumps - not a bad 2nd half of the year!  Looking at my numbers in early November I thought I’d easily cruise to 600 by year end but Mother Nature conspired against me, alas.

Yeah, that sucked, and I think it was realizing that I was going to be relegated to online-only shopping that was one of the many wake-up calls that started me on the path towards sustained weight loss and health.  Of course, the path hasn’t been strictly linear - after getting down to where I could wear clothes in the 14/16 range by mid-2004, over the next few years I crept back up in weight and size and found myself back into the 18/20 clothing range… which brought me to the beginning of this year and a desire to get things back on track.  And, as I’ve chronicled here, I absolutely have gotten things back on track and I’m back into all but the very smallest clothes in my closet.

But in some ways, clothes shopping has gotten more difficult, not easier.  Sure, it’s great to be able to participate in an event where there’s a free t-shirt and ask for a Large and be confident that it’ll fit (instead of hoping they’d have 2x or 3x, or taking the XL (often the largest size available) and throwing it in a drawer knowing it’ll never fit.  Yeah, I did that a bunch of times - what a victory it was to have those same XL t-shirts become baggy!).

And as much as I wear t-shirts on the weekends, my work look is a bit more dressed up.  And that puts me smack in the “tweener” range of women’s clothing - too small for plus sizes and too big for misses sizes.  Or at least, I can’t consistently fit into either range. Misses sizes run up to an XL or up to a 14 or 16 (sometimes 18 or 20 but that’s rare).  Plus sizes tend to start at 1X, or at 14W, but often at 16W.  The “W” generally means that there’s a different cut to the clothing - I find the tops are cut much fuller than I am now and that the bottoms are also cut fuller.  So they’re not just bigger, they’re cut differently.

I have less trouble finding tops right now - for the most part I fit well into the larger misses sizes without any trouble.  Unless it’s really tailored I can fit comfortably in an L or XL depending on how something’s cut.  I think it helps a lot that I’m not particularly busty so stuff hangs better on me.  My biggest problem there is that sleeves are often too short since I’m 5′10″ and a lot of my height is in my torso.  But a lot of this season’s sweaters seem to be cap sleeve or short sleeve or 3/4 sleeve sweaters that are meant to be layered; I throw them on over a tall size long sleeve t-shirt and I’ve got plenty of room.

Pants are another story altogether and a never-ending source of frustration.  For casual styles like workout capris or running tights I have no trouble getting into an L or XL misses size, but for more tailored pants I’m starting to think my only solution is to buy things a size or two up and have them tailored down.  If they fit through the tummy/hips, they’ll gap at the waist.  If they fit at the waist they’ll be too tight through the thighs/hips/tummy.  Don’t even get me started on where waistbands tend to fall … I’m glad that the low rise trend seems to be moderating at least a bit. Low rise just does not work on this body.  I have slightly better luck going with the smallest of the plus-size pants, but that’s not a slam dunk - lots of them don’t fit.  I found a couple today that were decent - not great - but decent and I bought them because they fit, not because I loved them.  That’s what I used to do “back in the day” - when you’re at the highest of the plus sizes, if something fits … you buy it.  I thought maybe those days were behind me.

And don’t even get me started on jeans.  I have a couple pairs of Old Navy size 16 jeans from a few years back that fit me almost perfectly (if a teeny bit too tight still), and one pair in 14 (that I never wore, but bought as goal jeans).  Of course, they don’t make that style anymore and I swear there are no jeans anywhere that are designed for my body.  And they all seem to have spandex these days, which I don’t like in denim.

And then there’s the fact that plus size choices still suck relative to the “straight” sizes.  The selection is not nearly as great, the prices tend to be higher, and the department is often relegated to a lonely out-of-the-way corner of the store.  The title of this post refers to the placement of the plus sizes in a typical department store - it’s usually relegated to the upstairs (next to the furniture or the housewares!) or in the basement (next to the children’s clothing).  The message being “you don’t have anywhere else to shop so we know you’ll seek this section out.”  Or the more cynical version “we cater to you because it’s good business but we don’t need the fatties visible to the rest of our clothing shoppers!”

I look forward to the day when I’m at a goal weight/size and can start investing in clothes; I think then it’ll be easier to justify paying for tailoring to get things to fit just right.  Right now, I’m trying to buy things that are relative bargains because although I’m not blowing through sizes like crazy, I still anticipate clothes not fitting for much longer than a season or two.