Finding It: And Finally Satisfying My Hunger for Life (30 page)

I wanted to get away for my birthday, someplace low-key and close to home, which was how we arrived at Laguna. I was eager to shed the stress of the past year once and for all and start forty-nine on a high, and full of anticipation of a great year.

One peek inside my suitcase provided my entire agenda. I brought one dress, two swimsuits, lots of workout clothes, and even more lingerie. As was my habit now, I hit the hotel’s gym, which overlooked the ocean. Time melted away as I stared at the water while doing cardio on the treadmill. I let negative thoughts about myself and those against whom I harbored grudges empty into the waves, and I reminded myself to embrace the good in my life and the world.

If I sound more meditative and serene than usual, so be it. Blame the setting. The vast stretch of blue in front of me and the rhythmic sound of the waves as they crashed on the shore had a
calming effect. The ocean was big, grand, beautiful, and timeless. It had fueled adventures, inspired dreams and poems, and nourished life. It put my tiny grievances into perspective and filled me with awe and wonder. I appreciated being able to stand there and gawk and think.

I said a prayer of thanks. I felt my soul rise with the lightness of being that I had wanted when I first set out to lose weight, except now I knew it didn’t have anything to do with weight. I was taken back to when Tom and I had gone into St. Patrick’s, and I had sat there wondering why I didn’t understand anything the priest was saying, feeling as though something must be wrong with me, and then finally staring at a clean square in the ceiling as if it were a window into the next place I needed to go.

And so it was. I just didn’t figure it out until now, in the gym, when I realized that special connection to God that I had always thought resided in a church wasn’t there. It was inside me. Going to church helps some people find it. But there are other ways, too. The point is to find it, and then believe it.

When I was in St. Patrick’s, it was as if God had been trying to say, “I’m glad you like the architecture. But look around, here and outside and most importantly inside yourself. I’m everywhere.”

After our three nights in Laguna, I made sure my daily life included the activities that made me feel healthy. I walked, worked out, ate good food, read, and talked openly to Tom about the good moments and the things that confused me. Christopher began talking about getting me to run a marathon. I looked at him like he had lost his mind. Then again, I had given him that same look before and I knew what had happened then.

“We’ll start with a 5K,” he said, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically.

“Yeah, right,” I said, though after a brief pause, I asked, “How many calories does that burn? I mean, maybe….”

I don’t dismiss anything that might make me feel better about myself. Don’t tell that to my pal, Rachael Ray, whose invitation to jump out of an airplane with her I have repeatedly declined. Other than that, I am open to most new ideas and adventures that will keep me on the track of self-improvement. These thoughts can still surprise me, but for the most part this openness and effort are what I had hoped for, and indeed needed, to figure out when I started on maintenance.

Everyone knows how to lose weight. We are very good at it, in fact. Our problem is that practically none of us knows how to keep the weight off.

Hopefully, I have been able to change that through my own experiences by showing that losing weight is just the first step in a long-range process of evolution and transformation. After you hit your weight goal, you need to work on the rest of your life—and I mean work on it. It doesn’t end. Maintenance isn’t just for the rest of your life. It
is
the rest of your life.

I am flattered and moved by all the lovely women who say that I have inspired them. The truth is,
they
inspire
me
. It’s the best part of my journey. We are a circle that keeps one another moving forward. As I have had to keep telling myself, none of us is perfect. We are going to have good days and bad days, some that are easy and some that are full of temptation. All you can do is try your best.

To make life easier, I suggest following these simple guidelines: Eat sensibly and in small portions. Exercise daily. Face problems
when they arise. Believe that you do deserve good things, and work hard to get them. Also, don’t pretend you have twelve items or fewer in your grocery cart so you can get into the express line. If you lie about the little things, you are apt to lie about the bigger things, too. Hey, I’m going to go out on a limb and say, if you have a full basket and see someone with only a couple of items, let her go ahead of you. It’s a good thing. The more kind gestures we make, the better off all of us will be. It’s like getting flowers on your birthday—you can never have too many.

In June, my parents and my brother Patrick and his wife, Stacy, came to Los Angeles for Wolfie’s high school graduation. I got very emotional watching the kids I had known since kindergarten and first grade stand on stage and make speeches, sing songs, and accept that piece of paper ushering them to the next stage of their life. Ed and I traded glances through the ceremony, the sort of looks that asked, “Remember when….” Of course we did, and were grateful for all those memories.

Wolfie was adorable. After seeing him texting someone on his phone, I sent him a text of my own, asking what he was texting. He put his phone away. At night, we celebrated around a fire at the beach. My parents seemed relaxed for the first time in a long while, and as they recounted the terrific time they’d had on their cruise, I couldn’t help from tapping my mom on the shoulder and saying, “I told you so.”

Toward the end of the month, I heard the same thing from Christopher after we completed my first 5K run in Culver City. I crossed the finish line in 28:49, the fifth fastest time among women in my age group who ran that race. After getting over that I had finished, I immediately began thinking I could do better.

Later, when Christopher brought up a half marathon, I didn’t dismiss the idea. Instead, I asked when it was.

I am past making predictions. I want to feel that the best is still ahead. As my mom has said, You never know. One night, with Wolfie and Tony sleeping at Ed’s, Tom and I found ourselves with nothing to do. We decided to have dinner at Mozza Osteria, a popular Italian restaurant in West Hollywood that requires reservations weeks in advance. As we expected, it was packed when we got there, so we sat at the counter and I ordered the tortellini in brodo soup. As soon as I tasted the first spoonful, I stopped talking. I stopped everything, in fact, and stared in frozen disbelief at Tom, who asked what was going on. I tasted the soup again.

“Oh, my God,” I said. “The soup.”

“What?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s incredible, “I said. “I can’t believe it. This soup tastes exactly like my grandmother’s cappelletti soup.”

Tom tasted a spoonful and agreed that it was delicious.

“Really good,” he said.

“It’s not
good
,” I said. “It’s phenomenal. It’s magical. I’ve spent forty years trying to find a soup that tastes like this.”

“Enjoy it.”

“I am,” I said. “I swear, it’s like I’ve been transported back into my Aunt Adeline and Uncle Dino’s basement in Delaware.”

I finished the soup and set my spoon down with a clink in the empty bowl. I was okay with the spiritual and personal connection not lasting longer than it did. I was grateful for having found the soup and enjoyed being able to remember feelings that were fundamental to my life. Some people find timeless connections in church. Others meditate. It seems fitting to me that I would have
my own religious experience in a bowl of rich buttery broth with pasta.

I didn’t look for explanations or validation. All I know is what I told Tom after dinner.

“We’re coming back.”

As this book makes evident, my life is full of family, friends, and business associates who have helped shape me in countless ways and continue to teach me lessons every day. I am blessed to have all of you in my life.

As I said several times in these pages, I don’t know what I have done to be this fortunate, but I’ll take it and hope I give some of the same back to all of you.

Likewise, I want to extend the same gratitude to all the kind people who I have met at book signings or who stop me in stores and restaurants and tell me that I have inspired or motivated them to lose weight or get in better shape. You don’t have to say, “Excuse me, I’m sorry to bother you,” It’s not a bother. We’re all in this together!

Todd, what in God’s name would I do without you? Are you sure you’re not really me? A better, funnier, faster version? Next time we do this I want more time for the fun part, okay? Stop rolling your eyes. Love to you, Beth, and your beautiful children.

Mom and Dad, as a parent myself, I know it’s not always easy, and so I know it wasn’t easy with me, but thanks for putting up with me and showing me that love continues to bloom.

Pat, Stacy, David, Drew, Laura, Calvin, Bailey, and my cherished Vispi and Fairweather famiglia, when you read this please take a moment and shut your eyes and imagine me giving you a hug.

Tony, Andie, Angela, and Dom, you have enriched my life in too many ways to mention. You’re great kids and it’s a treat watching you grow up.

Anthony and Helen Vitale, thank you for trusting me with your son. You like me better though, right?

Angela, you’re the sister I never knew I wanted. I’m truly blessed to know you. And to the rest of the Vitale, O’Leary, Altieri, Palmisano famiglia, I wish we could see each other more often, but I’ll take what I can get, grazie!

Christopher, I have cursed you, kissed you, and just plain been amazed by you. You aren’t a trainer; you’re an artist who understands that you can’t reshape the outside if you don’t also work on the inside. And Colin, thank you, you’re the perfect cheerleader, for T, Chris, and me.

Jack and Marc, my longtime managers, you guys are my version of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, killers (with great taste and judgment) masquerading as Paul Newman and Robert Redford. And don’t ask me which is which.

Heidi and Jill at PMK/HBH, you both have such patience, grace, and beauty. Thank you for taking care of me.

Jonathan, Nevin, and everyone at Innovative Artists, thank you again for believing in me.

Jamie, Barry, and all at Jackoway Tyerman Wertheimer Austen Mandelbaum Morris & Klein, thank you for everything.

Lois, Craig, Rod, Karin, Amanda, Charlotte and everyone at Gelfand, Rennert & Feldman, Thank you for all your hard work. Miss you, Gabby.