The Great Fitness Experiment

A Scale of a Different Sort (Giveaway!)

2009-11-30T15:24:00.009-06:00

This is the recommended serving size of cuteness

Anyone read those hoity toity (tween Charlotte may have watched Newsies a lot. Like 12 times in the theater a lot.) cooking magazines like Fine Cooking and Gourmet? My simple Betty Crocker heart secretly adores flipping through all those delicious pages with their 200 ingredient recipes, food-porn pics and advertisements for exotic utensils like "mandolin" and "zester" and "chef's quality squishy mat that feels just like a stress ball for your toes!". But I have one problem with those mags (that's a lie - we all know I have lots of problems with cooking but we'll leave my food issues aside for now): all the ingredients are measured in weird things like grams and ounces. The only thing in my kitchen that measures ounces is my Vitamix and I don't think that's the kind of ounces they mean when they say "2 ounces of 85% bittersweet cacao." (You know a recipe is serious when it calls for "cacao" instead of chocolate. How do you even say that? I'm imagining ka-KOW. You know, like chocolate for Batman. If it's not, kindly don't disillusion me. I like mispronouncing words in public. It's half of why I'm so fun at parties!)

So, when I received EatSmart's kitchen scale in the mail* my first thought was "Suh-weet! (adult Charlotte may have watched Napolean Dynamite a lot.) Now I can make all those gourmet recipes and host the dinner party of my dreams!" At which point everyone who knows me falls to the floor laughing. As if the lack of proper measuring implements is the only thing holding me back from making rosemary-lemon shortbread tarts. I don't even own matching dishes, remember? Actually my real first thought was this:

No, that's not a 10.2 lb chuck roast - that's my little bologna loaf! Can you believe how big she's gotten in 3 weeks?! Squeeee!

Not only can you measure fancy-shmancy food but also babies with tiny little ears like apricots, so delicious that I can't help but nibble on them! The other upside? The scale only goes up to 11 pounds so I won't be tempted to weigh myself on it. (Who am I kidding? I'm already weighing myself. Just not on a food scale. Egads.)

For those of you without a gourmet or slightly cannibalistic bent (those cheeks are so yummy!), a food scale has another obvious use: portion control. Sure you already know that a 3 oz. serving of meat is the size of a deck of cards but if you play with those ridiculously huge Sesame Street Uno cards like we do then your, er my, perception of portion sizes might be a wee bit off. Nothing says reality check on the pasta bowl like accuracy to the second decimal point. Not to mention this scale measures in ounces, grams, kilograms and pounds.

Want one for yourself? Just leave a comment telling me how you would use this scale. Would you finally get to cook European recipes and relive that one sweet summer in France? Or would you use it to keep that holiday snacking in check? Or, like me, would you sneak around the house weighing random objects just for the fun of it?

The winner will be announced Friday Dec. 4th. You get to choose your own color but shipping is limited to the U.S. For another chance to win this, check out Heather Eats Almond Butter!

*According to the new blog rules I must disclose that EatSmart sent me one free scale to review and is providing one scale at no cost to a winner on my blog. I was not paid for this post. Not that you asked but I do not get paid to blog, period. Also, I can't believe I have to write my on fine-print legal crap.

Decoding Hand Signals in the Gym

2009-11-29T21:07:00.005-06:00

This is the universal symbol for "your yoga teacher is a perv."

Grabbing your throat with both hands is the universally recognized symbol for choking. Likewise, a palm facing out means "stop" ("in the name of the love" optional). And now, thanks to the Salahi's, shaking President Obama's hand means "galling reality show stunt cum international incident." (There is more use for this one than you'd think.)

I got to thinking about ways we wordlessly communicate with others when I accidentally leaned on my horn at a stoplight several days ago, scaring the bejeebies out of me, my kids and all the other cars at the intersection. One man across the intersection from me seemed particularly affected by my errant blast, looking wildly in my direction. It was at that moment I realized that sadly there is no universal gesture for "oops." I did my best - shrugging my shoulders, holding my hands up and making a goofy face - to indicate it was just an accident and I didn't mean it. After a few tense seconds, he burst out laughing and pointed at me. My 7-year-old observed dryly, "He thinks you're an idiot, mom." So while I hadn't figured out how to apologize from a distance, apparently I'd discovered the universal symbol for "moron." Feel free to write that down for future reference. You know, just in case.

These kinds of gestures are everywhere but nowhere are they as entertaining as in the gym. Due to the twin evils of loud music and headphones, to thrive in a fitness environment it is necessary to familiarize yourself with these signals. Some, like the one-finger salute, are pretty easily understood (it means "I'm a jerk and refuse to re-rack my weights because I think I'm the king of the chest press) but others need some explaining.

The head pat was one of those for me. Any of you who have taken a cardio class like step, Zumba, Turbokick or some other incarnation of dance aerobics have probably seen the head pat. Midway through a class, just when you've got your groove thang going, the instructor pats his or her head and - this is the weird part - the whole class starts over from the beginning of the routine!

Let me back up. See, I have this weird affliction that whenever I start to heat up and break a sweat my scalp gets realllllly itchy. I don't know why. I try to suppress the urge to itch, knowing that it will pass as my muscles get warm and also I don't want to freak out anyone aerobicizing next to me. So I just figured that all my cardio instructors had the same sweaty scalp issues that I do. (Side note: never shave your eyebrows. You think now that they're just good for Groucho Marx impressions but really they're nature's sweatbands. Don't ask me how I know this.) It turns out that they were trying to tell me something. It took me years to figure out that the head pat wasn't just a form of lice that only affected group fit instructors but was actually a signal that means "from the top." Head = top, get it??

You can't see me but right now I'm making the "I'm an idiot" gesture.

How about you? Have you ever encountered a gym gesture that you didn't understand (or just wished you didn't)? What's your universal symbol for "oops"?

My Unthankful Thanksgiving

2009-11-25T21:22:00.005-06:00

I'll admit I wasn't feeling the gratitude today. (Which is okay, right? I mean I still have a few hours left to procrastinate my character improvement.) This morning found me walking the track at the gym, my baby in a front carrier and nothing to entertain me except my mp3 player... which was dead. So basically I spent an hour walking in small circles and muttering to myself like a crazy person, nary a Gym Buddy in sight. That last bit was the real problem. See, all the Gym Buddies were absent this morning because they were saving up their childcare hours so they could come to the big Turbo holiday sweatfest tonight. The one I can't attend because a) my baby is too young to go in the childcare and the gym management frowns on babies in kickboxing classes and b) my body isn't healed up enough yet to handle it.

To understand my extreme angst you must know this is no ordinary cardio class. Every year Turbo Jennie crafts a particularly torturous 90 minutes of kickboxing intervals interspersed with crazy dance moves that she calls her Holiday Mix. It's a total party and you burn mega calories the night before Thanksgiving so you can indulge guilt free the day of. (That's the theory anyhow - me and my neuroses are not into guilt-free anything. But I'm working on that.) I live for the Holiday Mix.

And this year not only am I condemned to the hamster wheel but I have to sit at home knowing everyone is having a great time without me, not unlike the time I went to a girl's-choice dance in high school only to have my date take off with my best friend and then watch as her date tried to get drunk by chugging bottles of breath drops. (In case anyone is wondering, no it didn't work but I ended up having to walk home anyway after they decided there wasn't enough room for me in the car.)

As I walked my bajillionth lap and pondered the incongruity of a Thanksgiving event making me seriously ungrateful, a news story popped up on one of the large screen TVs. "Burned boy facing lifelong recovery" was the headline, accompanied by a picture of a horribly burned child. Then his mother came on the screen, sobbing, "I'm just grateful he's alive!"

5 points to the Big Guy upstairs: I get it, my problems are small. (Note to self: God uses HDTV.)

After that I decided to use my laps to think about all I have to be thankful for. It wasn't too many before I came to see the wisdom in Chris Illuminati's Unthankful Thanksgiving post (yes Chris, I just used you and wisdom in the same sentence):

Thankful is minor. Thankful is the feeling when a stranger points out I’ve mistakenly dropped a wad of money in a crowded store or when the UPS guy puts the package in between the screen door and front door so it doesn’t get drenched, or worse, stolen. Thankful is coming home and the package hasn’t been stolen and I can forgo a call to Amazon and beg for a replacement.

My family and friends, the coming bundle of boyhood, the upward course of my writing career and the pending book are not things to be thankful for because they are much more. They are blessings. Blessings trump thanks.
[P.S. Do check out his book! He is hilarious and awesome.]

He's right. Not only do I have a million things to be thankful for but as the good Friar tells Romeo, I also have "a pack of blessings light upon [my] back." So while I still can't go to the Turbo Party, how cool is it that I have so many fun friends that I cried because I miss them? (I know, who cries over missing a cardio class? Me, that's who.) And how blessed am I to have 4 beautiful, healthy children? And a wonderful husband? And loving parents and siblings who are my best friends? And to be healthy myself? After I covered all the big blessings in my life (all of you blog buddies and readers also made the list!), I moved on to all the little things I'm grateful for. Like an indoor track so at least I'm not walking in the rain. And the fact that it's November here and it's still warm enough that we have rain! And binkies. Bobby pins. Books. (And the letter B, apparently.) Also: I haven't had an anxiety attack in over 4 days! The hormonal tides they are a' turning! Woohooo!

In the end I was even grateful my mp3 player had died or I never would have had this little schizophrenic chat with myself. I hope that all of you - whether or not you celebrate Thanksgiving where you are - will make the effort to consider your blessings today as well. Bonus points if you aren't as whiny about it as I was!

Happy Thanksgiving!

Trusting Your Hunger Vs. Exercising Willpower

2009-11-24T21:10:00.005-06:00

These days, thanks to my transformation from walking womb to 24/7 milk bar, I am a girl with a hefty appetite. They say that nursing requires even more calories than pregnancy and I believe it. I'm not counting calories (yay!) but just guessing from the huge amounts of food I consume every few hours I'd say it's a lot. Like NFL linebacker a lot.

This frightens me.

But before we delve deeper into my neuroses, I have a confession to make: I have a serious case of envy for anyone who has figured out to eat when they're hungry. Yes, I am still trying to master this life skill that infants, dogs and the Tasmanian Devil do with gusto. Many of you blog friends have already figured out how to do this. Heather [who Eats Almond Butter], MizFit, Quix, Leslie [who Never Says Diet] and many others of you have written about how you made peace with your hunger pangs. And every time I read one of your inspirational stories I think to myself, "someday that is going to be me."

But someday is not today. And today I hate that I'm so hungry. It seems like a cruel trick of nature to saddle women who are still holding on to half their pregnancy weight with an appetite that makes werewolves look reserved. In the past I've embraced my hunger, sometimes too much, enjoying that dizzy emptiness. But being solely responsible for providing a little person's nutrition keeps me from going that route again. She needs calories and I can't produce those out of thin air.

So I eat. I eat mostly healthy things, albeit loads of them. Case in point: for lunch I ate an entire 1-lb box of baby spinach as a side dish. Who eats an entire pound of spinach in one sitting? Even Popeye exercised portion control with those puny cans. (We won't talk about the jumbo jar of mixed nuts that contains 35 servings that I ate in one week.) I also eat things I would never normally eat. Pizza, sausage, cookies and entire packages of gummy worms disappear before my kids even see them, much less get a chance to complain that I'm not sharing. I hate that I do that.

Every morning (question: When does morning start, exactly? Is it at the 12 a.m. feeding, the first official one of the new day? Or is it the 3 a.m. feeding because I can't get back to sleep after? Or perhaps the 5:30 a.m. feeding because dawn is hinting on the horizon?) I resolve to not eat everything in sight. And every evening I fall into bed disappointed with myself.

I suppose it all comes down to control. We're always told that the secret is to exercise more will power, control our appetite. But these days my appetite is controlling me. My hunger feels like an emergency that I must respond to. It will not be ignored, distracted or otherwise toyed with. If I do manage to stave it off, it slaps me down with a fierce case of of the low blood sugar crankies.

When I do finally manage to string a coherent thought together - no mean feat in this household - it scares me that I'm not even three weeks post partum and am already freaking out about food and weight. (But hey at least I'm not freaking out about freaking out!) I won't always be nursing so I should just trust my body and give it what it wants, right? Trust. Gah.

I have serious trust issues with my body.

Short of begging Geneen Roth to switch brains with me, what can I do? How do you tell the difference between real hunger and just eating? How do you strike that balance between controlling yourself and trusting yourself? Is it even possible to do both or do you fall into one camp or the other?

The Cure for Exercise Headaches [Help a Reader Out]

2009-11-23T21:17:00.008-06:00

If this is how you hydrate, then I think we found the problem...

Seeing as you all did such a great job with Laura's question last week regarding buying cardio equipment for a home gym, I thought I'd throw a bit tougher question your way this week. (Yeah, yeah, you can take the teacher out of the classroom...) In this week's installment of Help a Reader Out, the feature where you guys help answer questions that I don't know the answer to, Sunny writes:

"Lately, after my runs, I have been getting these massive headaches, even though I drink a ton of water before and after. A colleague suggested I start drinking some Gatorade (G2, w/ less sugar) to replace lost electrolytes, but I am not a fan of drinking those dealios, even the less sugar variety. I have also read they aren't all that great at replacing electrolytes anyway. Any suggestions? I don't want to keep taking Advil after I run and nothing else seems to work. "

First, Sunny, I love that you used the word "dealios." Since reading your e-mail I have resolved that I must find more occasions in my life to work that one in. (Although the only ones that come immediately to mind are naughty. Stop that!)

Second, my completely uneducated guess would be to wonder if you are suffering from hypoglycemia or low blood sugar. You don't say how long your runs are or what your pre- or post- workout nutrition is like but for me - and everything is about me, right? - I get the sugar shakes and a headache pretty easily if a) my workout is intense and goes longer than an hour or b) I didn't eat beforehand.

If you've ruled out both dehydration and hypoglycemia, other common sources of headaches include hormones (seeing as this is the Internet and all, I will refrain from asking where you are in your girly cycle), neck/back strain, and stress.

Lastly, there is such a thing as exercise-induced headaches/migraines. I know about them because Gym Buddy Candice suffers from them and has had to severely curtail her workouts because of them. Unfortunately, that is pretty much all I know about them. But I'm guessing at least some of my readers know lots about headaches and exercise. What do you guys say? Anyone have some tips for Sunny?

Well, they're a vegetarian's nightmare but who knows - they might help with your electrolytes. Or with your mid-run cravings for Peking Duck. PS> Why is "beef stroganoff" blue??

The Happiest Sadness: On having a baby after losing one

2009-11-22T21:04:00.008-06:00

Have you ever been afraid that by loving someone so much you will lose them, simply because the universe hates a happy ending? It's a disturbing, paranoid and not really rational thought but there's a reason that the axiom, "It is better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all" exists. Loving someone can be scary. Because losing that someone is even scarier.

Of all the Big Things I have been through in my life, there is one I almost never talk about. At least not in a public setting. While I have no problem writing all about my sexual assault, the court case and the aftermath or going on TV to discuss my reincarnating eating disorder or 'fessing up to my myriad mental health issues (it's not a bug, it's a feature!), I don't often talk about the birth and death of my first child, my daughter Faith. The silence isn't because I don't remember her or because it's too uncomfortable or even because it feels unresolved. Rather, it's simply because it still hurts. And that hurt feels sacred because it's all I have left of her.

She would have been eight in September. It's been enough years that the pain is no longer that sharp, breath stealing, nauseating pain of immediate grief that makes you wonder if you can even get out of bed in the morning much less return to normal life. And yet, she would have been eight in September. The ache is there every time I see a child her would-be age. It's there when I stop to admire a beautiful girl's dress in a store and realize that instinctively I've picked up her would-be size. And now it is there when I see her baby sister, perfect in every way that she wasn't. Alive in every way that she isn't.

That long ago day the hospital put a rainbow on our door. None of the other rooms in the labor and delivery unit had door decorations. We were special. The rainbow was there to let the staff know that the room they were entering contained a dead or dying baby. Even still the anesthesiologist slipped and asked me if the baby had any health concerns he should know about. ("Um, all of them?") The silence after she was born was deafening. She died of Turner's Syndrome, a genetic condition that while not always fatal proved to be so in her case. There is no feeling to compare to going into a hospital pregnant and walking out empty handed, save for a tiny memory box tied up with a green ribbon.

I refused to let her death make me bitter. Still, it left a legacy. I had decided - not through any direct consultation mind you - that God did not mean me to be a mother to a girl. I was sure I would be bad at it. As three boys filled our home and our hearts, that idea grew stronger. I even told people that I couldn't have girls, almost willing it to be true so that I wouldn't have to deal with the inevitable fear and anxiety that would come with growing another baby girl.

And then God decided to show me that I should not put words in his mouth. We conceived a girl. At the midpoint ultrasound, the same point when we learned Faith was so sick, we cried with relief when the technician assured us that everything was fine with our baby. But even then I was afraid to think about it. I didn't shop for her (a situation remedied by our very generous friends) . I didn't paint the nursery (it is indeed still blue). But the most telling indicator of my fear was that I didn't write about her. I didn't chronicle her pregnancy like I did my boys'. I didn't write her love letters as I had to my other children. In fact, my journal is completely empty from the day I found out I was pregnant until the day she was born. I was afraid to hope.

Any mother will tell you that one child cannot replace another, even if we can't keep all their names straight when yelling at them to take their breakfast dishes to the sink. Yet as I held our newest daughter that first night I was surprised to discover that she filled a hole I didn't even realize that I had. Or at least wouldn't admit that I had. It wasn't her job to heal me and yet somehow she did.

"I'm so happy," I said to my husband tonight as I rocked our beautiful girl, my heart cracking with the enormity of it. Something in my eyes must have betrayed my fear of that happiness because he answered, "There is nothing wrong with taking joy in your child." Slowly I'm coming to realize that it doesn't mean I love Faith less because I love her sister so completely. And hopefully I'm learning to love her in spite of my fear of losing her. As Khalil Gibran says, "Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself. They came through you but not from you and though they are with you yet they belong not to you. " Loving and losing are two sides of the same coin - we can't appreciate the immensity of love without experiencing the grief of loss.

I am so happy.

Demi Moore: Did W Mag Photoshop Her or Not?

2009-11-19T21:08:00.004-06:00

The laughter over the Ralph Lauren model debacle hadn't even died down when it appeared earlier this week that the fashion industry had repeated its affront to anatomical correctness again but this time on the new cover of W magazine featuring Demi Moore.

The blogosphere immediately cried foul as people pointed out the mysterious chunk missing out of her left thigh (our right, looking at the picture). The lines just don't seem to match up in any way that allow for the proper placement of bones and the fabric seems unnaturally suspended in midair. It seemed like another case of sloppy photoshop and blind editors.

But then today Demi released this pic on Twitter saying, "Here is the original image people my hips were not touched don't let these people bullsh*t you! [sic]"

As you can see the "original" photo looks like the one that made it on the cover. Suddenly everyone is confused. A professional fashion photographer claims that there is no way the image is legit and yet Demi remains adamant that it's really her. Is it a magic eye trick? It makes me wonder if perhaps it really is photoshopped and Demi really believes it is her. Could it be possible that celebs get so used to seeing themselves photoshopped, airbrushed and otherwise technologically gussied up that they too believe the imagery?

What's your vote? Does this one go in the Photoshop of Horrors Hall of Fame? Or is there a way to stand to make your hip do that? My vote is it's all a ploy to distract people from her vacant slack-jawed expression. Or the fact that she's wearing a really expensive loin cloth.

The Fitness Fanatic's Guide to (Not) Embarrassing Yourself

2009-11-18T20:30:00.001-06:00

Or you could just cut to the chase and do this.

Whether you like group fitness or running solo through your neighborhood, the cool thing about exercising is all the opportunities you get to completely humiliate yourself. So it is with some trepidation I share my top ten ways to embarrass yourself whilst exercising. Because you know I've done all of these. Sigh. And because I love you all so much, I've included my tips for covering up your faux pas.

10. Snap yourself with a resistance band. (Jump ropes also work well for this and you get bonus points if you hit yourself in the face.)
How-To: Stand on the band while holding both handles. Next look down to check your feet positioning, just in time to see the band fly loose and smack you right between the eyes. Make sure to whip your head back, mutter a general purpose curse word and then try and pretend like it never happened - all while sporting a bright red hickey between your eyes.
Quick Fix: If you have to return to work immediately after, just pretend it was an eyebrow wax gone terribly wrong. Note: do not try to use "bikini wax" as an excuse. HR will not be amused.

9. Get stuck. Preferably in some equipment.
How-To: Pick a piece of equipment you have no idea how to use, walk confidently over to it and set it at max weight or speed. Now don't be a wuss, if anyone offers you instruction, tersely wave them off. Jump on. Try not to scream as you are folded like an overstuffed burrito. If you need ideas, start here. Overachievers, you've got this baby.
Quick Fix: As soon as you have extricated yourself (assuming you can), mop the sweat off your face and say loudly, "Man, that was good! Good burn! Yeah!!" That way people will think you meant to do it.

8. Make funny faces, sex noises, or whimper while weight lifting.
How-to: This one's easy. Just go with your gut. You know what they say - sing like nobody's listening, dance like nobody's watching (boring, much?) and lift like nobody else is present. Grunting and screaming are a little overdone. I recommend seizures. Or crying.
Quick Fix: Wear earphones - even if they aren't attached to anything but your pocket lint. Then you can always pull them out and stage-whisper "Nobody told me Farewell to Arms ends like that!" You'll be safe because anyone old enough to have read Hemingway and remember the ending (which is sad) will probably have dementia. Everyone else will just think you are sensitive and awesome. Or perverted, depending on exactly what noises you were making.

7. Fly off the treadmill.
How-To: One word - Zoomers. Mess this baby up and it's the fastest route to becoming a human skid mark I know of. My other failsafe way to fall off the treadmill is to get into a really good conversation with Gym Buddy Allison who is on the treadmill next to me, slowly drift to one side of the 'mill because I'm not looking forward and then - whammo - off I go.
Quick Fix: Stand up, throw up your arms and present to the judges. 10 points for blood.

6. Fart or otherwise smell bad.
How-To: So many methods, so little time. You may recall my laundry error that landed me in this boat but there are many roads to this same end. I encourage creativity. For you outdoorsy types stepping in dog poo at the beginning of your run is good. Make sure to get it all stuck in the tread on your trail runners. And if you need a how-to on farting then I'll have to refer you to an expert. Please proceed directly to the nearest 12-year-old boy.
Quick Fix: The universally accepted method is to just pretend like you don't smell anything. One step better is to stand in front of a fan and hope that it blows the scent away from you. Best? Spray on half a bottle of your favorite drug store perfume/cologne because everyone loves Charly as much as you do.

5. Wear inappropriate workout clothing.
How-To: I've covered this already but to sum up, be sure to wear your shortest, tightest and brightest outfits. Girls, you are aiming for a camel toe. Men, hammer pants are your best friend. And always show as much skin as possible.
Quick Fix: Ask yourself, "Would Madonna wear this?" If the answer is "yes" then take it off. Or invest in a really good friend who'll tell you straight up. Last ditch effort, call your mom. We know things.

4. Douse yourself with your water bottle.
How-To: Take a big swig from your wide-necked environmentally-sound BPA-free water bottle. While running. This works best on a treadmill although I've seen people do it in outdoor races too. Extra points if it's actually Propel in your bottle. See? Easy as falling off a log. Hey - that's fun too!
Quick Fix: Just pretend you're really sweaty. Which actually isn't a fix unless you look like a supermodel. For the rest of us, we'll just have to try and move to the treadmill in front of the fan or wait until the sun dries us off. Try not to think about how thirsty you now are.

3. Be a bad sport.
How-To: Have "a spot" in group fitness classes and smack anyone who comes into your personal space. Spit into drinking fountains. When somebody lifts more than you mutter, "Too bad I strained my shoulder of I'd totally whup you." Never clap. Never smile. Don't share. But nobody can explain this concept better than this guy. Watch him, in the Olympics, kick a ref in the head. Banned FOR LIFE from competing.
Quick Fix: Don't be that guy. (Or girl.) Just don't.

2. Sweat in funny places.
How-To: Wear a sweat-showing color like gray. Make sure your clothes are as tight as spandex-ly possible. Add a great cardio class or a super intense weight session and viola: sweat in places other than is generally considered socially acceptable like your pits, or chest if you're a dude. I won't detail all the embarassing places that sweat stains can appear - you know what your personal sweat-print looks like.
Quick Fix: Gym Buddy Allison has a clever technique. She wears two tank tops layered over one another. The bottom one picks up the sweat while the top one stays fresh and dry. My fix? Kick it up a notch and sweat so much that it all blends together into one big stinky mess. Which is probably why in all our pics, she's the cute one and I look like a drowned rat.

1. Don't you hate it when lists end on a funny number? Like nine??
How-To: Help me fill in the number 1 spot by telling me in the comments your best method of embarrassing yourself. Pictures will earn you my undying love.
Quick Fix: Telling people about your embarrassing moments make you seem witty and self-deprecating. They can't laugh at you if you're already laughing at yourself! Right?

Extra Credit: Synchronized Stretching
Didn't get enough Olympics in your life? Start your own sport of synchronized stretching by picking someone on the stretching mats who is really working it out. Then sit down next to him or her, as close as possible without actually sitting on them, and proceed to do whatever they do. Be sure to make your movements graceful - toes pointed, arms fully extended, back straight. Feel free to throw in extra little flourishes like gestures, waves to the "judges" (who are probably peeing their pants laughing), and a bright toothy smile. Just don't ruin it by telling your "partner" what you're doing. Letting them discover is half the fun.

Tips for Losing the Baby Weight - That Really Work!

2009-11-17T09:55:00.003-06:00

I am ten days past the scream-n-push Bodily Fluids Festival of '09 (Marilyn Manson should take notes) which means, of course, that it's time to talk about losing the baby weight. No, not because I'm feeling overly anxious about it - I'm too busy being anxious about being anxious! - but because I've gotten a ton of e-mails about it. Being officially The Nicest People on the Internet, none of you readers have been pressuring me but rather just wondering if I've found anything that works. Weight loss being the crapshoot that it is once you mix in genetics, socioeconomic status, general health, age and a host of other factors, nonetheless I have found a few tips that genuinely seem to make a difference. So far. (Please note I am only 10 days post partum and will not even come within five feet of my box of "normal" clothes yet.)

1. Have the baby. Okay, so that was a liiiiitle tongue-in-cheek but seriously when else in your life can you say, "I just lost 15 pounds in ONE DAY. Take THAT Jillian!"? Word.

Okay, from here on out, I'm serious. I swear.

2. Wear a belly wrap. I have a Taut (holla to also-momma-of-4 Brooke Burke!) but there is also the Belly Bandit, a host of medical compression bands and the low-tech-but-cheap Ace bandage method. At first blush, this seems like a bunch of hooey: Wear a big elastic belt and get a flatter stomach!! Except that many cultures have been doing exactly that for centuries. Women who have just given birth are in a special (read: anatomically freakish) place with their core. Your organs get all squished to weird places, your abdominal muscles detach from each other, all your ligaments get loose and your hips act as if they can't stand to be in the same room with each other. Using a compression belt helps bring everything back to its proper place and hold it there. My delivery nurse, a lovely woman from Trinidad, told me that the fact that Americans don't typically belly wrap after birth was a huge shock to her as everyone in her country did it and felt that not only was it more comfortable but it was medically advantageous. She was very impressed that I was doing it and even showed me a few tricks to use it properly (lay down when you put it on, start at the top and fasten it downward).

I'll admit I first bought the Taut hoping to flatten my abs faster after birth but when I first put it on in the hospital, I gotta tell you it felt good. Really good. It supported my back and my stomach and put just the right amount of pressure on my hips. The website also claims it helps the skin reattach and tighten up faster. Who cares if my stomach still looked 6-months pregnant? It felt awesome! And, yes, I honestly do think it has made my stomach flatter faster than it would have been otherwise. After having 5 children I feel like I'm in a position to compare. This is my first time using a compression band and I feel like this is the fastest my stomach has ever deflated. Besides - have I mentioned this already? - it feels so nice!

Downsides: it does make you sweaty, the velcro sticks to your underwear and can rip it, and they can be pricey. Also, just to manage your expectations, a belly wrap is not a corset or Spanx - it isn't meant to give you a smooth, flat silhouette. In fact, it looks a bit bulky under tight clothing but who's wearing tight clothing at this point, anyhow?

3. Eat your probiotics. This one works not just for preggos and post-preggos but for everyone. I first found this tip in Fit Pregnancy magazine in a blurb summarizing a research study that found that pregnant women who ate (or took via pill) probiotics every day had 47% less belly fat 6 months post-partum than women who didn't. You know I love my homemade yogurt so I figured this one wouldn't be hard to try. While the results are less easily observed in myself as a) I'm not 6-months post-partum yet and b) I'm a study of one, the original research was quite convincing and probiotics have been shown to help with not only weight loss but stomach health and even gum and dental health! Not to mention that yogurt - especially Greek yogurt - is a good source of protein and calcium. So unless you are lactose intolerant or allergic then this is probably one of those things that wouldn't hurt to try.

4. Lay off the intense exercise. At least at first. I've talked about this study before but research has found that initially for post-partum women, returning to intense exercise right away does not speed weight loss. Mostly I'm reiterating this here for my benefit, especially after Gym Buddy Krista threatened to roundhouse my butt if I returned to Turbokick too quickly. (And girlfriend kicks hard.)
5. Breastfeed? Pregnant women hear this advice ad nauseum (and really isn't there enough nausea already going on?): Breastfeed and the baby weight will melt away like magic! While breastfeeding does have a host of benefits for both mom and baby (my fave: it's free! I'm nothing if not cheap), the jury is still out on weight loss. For me in the past, I find that the weight comes off pretty easily in the first six months. That is until I get to the last 10 pounds. At which point my body decides it had better keep my thighs really well padded, you know, in case of famine or the need to double as Kim Kardashian. There is nothing I can do within the realms of good health to get those last 10 pounds off until I wean the little sucker. My goal this time around is to learn to enjoy my hips and boobs for the short time I actually have them rather than trying to fight those last ten pounds. That's what I have the rest of my life for, right?

For other women it is different though. I have one friend who actually complains that she gets too thin while nursing. Either way, they say nursing burns about 500 calories a day. Like a calorie deficit from exercise, your body strives to maintain equilibrium and will make you hungrier to compensate. (Seriously, you have not seen starving until you've seen me eat when my milk comes in. Small animals hide in fear.)
Conclusion
I am not not not telling anyone, no matter how pre- or post- or even non- partum you are, to worry about your weight. If you must worry, worry about being healthy. However, I know many of you girls think about this. I think about this! It's practically unavoidable in our culture. So I share these sensible tips less like a lose-weight cudgel to the head and more like a help-a-sister-out hug. Pregorexia is never a good idea.

Did I miss anything? Any of you have a great weight-loss tip?

Home Fitness Equipmement - Where to Spend, Where to Save [Help a Reader Out!]

2009-11-16T20:30:00.000-06:00

It's no secret that there is no love lost between cardio equipment and I which is why when Reader Laura asked me what she should look for when purchasing an elliptical machine, I was stumped. Social creature that I am, I much prefer to work out at the gym (bonus: they have childcare!) and when I do have to workout at home I usually concoct some kind of crazy circuit involving my Val-Slides, TRX, Kettlebell and whatever other equipment I keep tripping over. And yet, as I am so often reminded when I see people lining up Thanksgiving night for the Black Friday sales, many people are not like me. (Seriously, there is no amount of savings that could entice me to go shopping on Black Friday.) So I am starting a Help a Reader Out feature where I post a reader's question that I don't know the answer to and hope that via the collective wisdom of all of you, we can come up with a good solution. Combined we must have an IQ of like a million or something, right?

Here's Laura's quandry: Not being much of a "gym" person but still loving her cardio endorphins, she'd like the flexibility of working out in the comfort of her own home. She has decided that the elliptical machine is her torture device of choice but doesn't know where to start to buy one. Price is a primary factor but she does want a machine with enough quality to not end up as a glorified clothing rack in her basement. She's thinking second hand is a good idea but doesn't know what questions to ask. Craig's list? Second-hand store? Brand-new-but-cheap from Wal-Mart or Target? So many sweaty options.

Questions for you:
1. What piece of cardio equipment do you think is best for home workouts?
2. Do you recommend buying used or new?
3. Any particular brands that are the best? Any that she should run screaming away from?
4. What features are important to look for?
5. Where do you buy your equipment?
6. Ever buy fitness equipment from an infomercial? If so, what? (This last question has nothing to do with Laura. I'm just nosey like that.)

Fit Pregnancy: Post-Partum Exercise and Dealing With Anxiety

2009-11-15T20:30:00.001-06:00

Let's be clear: this is not my baby. If it were, there would have been twice as much tape plus a couple of pairs of scissors, some contraband Halloween candy and a spare brother or two caught in there as well.

Five Great Things About Having a One-Week-Old Baby
5. The explosion of pink! It's like a Pepto Bismol factory vomited all over my house. And I love it. Let's face it, I needed a little estrogen backup around here.

4. Having my husband home all week. Not only did he entertain the three boys marvelously but he also caught up on a bunch of home improvement projects. I have curtains again! (No thanks to the Tarzan-monkeys that pulled them all down in the first place. You know that phrase "hanging from the chandeliers"? It's not just a colloquialism at our house. That has literally happened. And yes, the chandelier came right out of the ceiling. They don't make 'em like they used to! Chandeliers, that is, not kids. As far as I know kids are still made exactly like they used to be. No, I'm not giving you instructions so don't ask. ANYHOW.)

3. Finding out how many people love us. I am still overwhelmed by all the gifts, meals, phone calls, e-mails and other acts of kindness that have come our way. (Truth to be told, I'm feeling a little undeserving. But grateful! Very, very grateful.)

2. I'm not pregnant anymore! I can see my feet! No more heart burn! I can put on pants like a normal human being again (well, I would be able to if normal pants fit yet.) If I suck in really hard I can imagine I have a waist again! Plus, my rack is awesome. Yeah, I said it. Seriously, this is so exciting for me that I would have put it as number one except that nothing trumps...

1. My sweet little baby! She is the squishiest, cutest, cuddliest, yummy-smellingest, most adorable, best baby ever! (You know, except for my previous three. What? Someday they are going to learn how to read and we all know Google is Forever.)

Five Not-So-Great Things About Having a One-Week-Old Baby 1. It turns out they can all be condensed into one bad thing: anxiety. Sure, I could whine about multiple night feedings, my kangaroo stomach, my milk letting down every 3 hours on the dot (tingly!) and everything else that comes with caring for a post-partum body and a new infant but really these things don't bother me much. At least not compared to the hanging-by-my-fingernails post-partum anxiety.

I've written before about how my version of the "baby blues" entails obsessive worrying and panic attacks - called post-partum panic/anxiety disorder - and how it gets worse with every child. I knew this was coming so I wasn't surprised by the heart palpitations and racing thoughts (5th time's the charm!). I think I'm dealing with it pretty well - I spend a lot of time meditating, talking myself down and basking in the atomic glow of my Happy SAD Light - but it doesn't make it any less uncomfortable. With my last baby it seemed to peak at about 2 weeks post-partum and get better from there. I'm hoping for a similar arc with this one. In the meantime, thanks to all of my friends and family members that have babysat me in the evenings this past week!

Of course one of the hardest parts of this PPA is that I still can't use my primary coping mechanism: exercise. Now that I'm feeling much better after the birth, I'm anxious (ha! get it?) to return to real workouts and not just walking. But I know if I start too much too soon my body will slap me down like a WWF wrestler except instead of a chair over the head it will be mastitis (wow, just using that word makes me feel like a cow.)

Reader Rachel wrote to me a while ago asking what my post-partum exercise plan was. Here it is: not get sick. As we all learned from the infamous mice-on-mini-treadys studies, exercise in moderation boosts your immune system but too much makes you sicker than none at all. I started several days after her birth with just some seriously slow walking. Now that we've passed the one-week mark I plan on upgrading that to moderate walking and yoga. Week three I'm adding in some weights. I'm making myself wait to do anything hardcore like TurboKick until a month. Running we'll just have to wait and see as my hips are still completely disconnected and have the nasty habit of going in opposite directions when I walk.

What is your advice for coming back from a long exercise hiatus? Even if you've never been pregnant, almost everyone has had to work back from an injury, illness, surgery or other life event! Anyone else get post-partum anxiety?

Fit Pregnancy: It's Baby Time!

2009-11-08T17:16:00.010-06:00

As many of you have now surmised, Thursday morning found me, my Husband of the Good Genes, and my Doula Beth in the Labor & Delivery ward of the hospital at the crack of dawn. I was feeling chipper, strong and so so ready to get this baby out! Despite all my best control-freak efforts to start labor on my own (I even did Turbo Jennie's PiYo class on Monday!) - and thanks to all of you for your suggestions; I tried many of them! - my due date had arrived and the baby had not. Given my history of 10-lb babies and my "extremely favorable cervix" (Why thank you, doctor! Can I get that on a t-shirt?) my doctor decided it would be best to induce.

Thankfully since I was already so far dilated and effaced, I didn't need a medical induction (a.k.a. the dreaded pitocin) and just required a little push to get me on my way. So we snapped one last pic of the babe on the inside:

And they broke my water which for those of you non-baby-makers out there involves the amniotic sac and a very long crochet hook. I'll let your imagination take it from there.

Doula Beth had some slightly unconventional ideas for how to get my contractions going from mild squeezes to full-on pain party. Did arm wrestling work? I don't know but the laughing sure took the edge off things! (Who won? We tied but I'm guessing it is only because she felt sorry for me being in labor and all.)

Next up were some vigorous side to side lunges. Between these and the hours of walking the halls, I definitely still got my workout in! I know I look like I'm in the stage production of Patch Adams here but things were actually getting ouchie by this point.

[THERE ARE NO PICTURES OF THIS NEXT PART!] After I started sobbing in the hallway, Beth banned more walking and I banned further picture taking. Sobbing quickly moved on to screaming and then total hysteria. I am not a calm woman in labor. We'll leave it at that.

After what felt like an hour of the most excruciating pain I've ever been in (although Doula Beth said it was closer to 10 minutes), I pushed once and Baby was here! First question: "Is she really a girl?!?"

Red bow says yes! (You know they come out with those on, right?) PS> For those of you wondering about her distended belly, it's because it's full of amniotic fluid still as my one-push wonder didn't get enough time in the birth canal to get it all squeezed out. It came out later. There was much vomiting.

I was one wiped mama but so very happy to finally be holding our long-awaited girl on the outside! They handed her to me, I apologized profusely to everyone in the room and... bliss:)

Welcome home, Baby!

Dear Readers, thanks so much for your support and encouragement during this pregnancy. You have no idea how much all your comments and e-mails helped! And many thanks to my mom and family and our many friends here for all the help here! Both baby and I are doing great and recovering at home now.

Much love,
Charlotte

The Weirdest Tip for Managing Cravings - And it Just Might Work

2009-11-04T21:00:00.003-06:00

The things I do for you people. Seriously. Everyone around me thinks I'm one tinfoil hat short of an alien encounter. And I did it for you.

EFT
Pronounced "fffffftttt" (kidding - it's actually pronounced "I spit a lot"), Emotional Freedom Techniques is, in brief, a series of body movements, singing, tapping and eye rolling that you perform in a specific order to achieve emotional freedom.

Lest you say, "But I did not know I was in emotional bondage, Charlotte!" I must point out that everyone has some binding emotions. Think of this as an emotional laxative. Plus it will really make those holiday dinners a lot more entertaining once the Aunts get a load of you doing this.

Gary Craig, the founder of emofree.com, and one of the most ardent supporters of EFT explains, "Based on impressive new discoveries regarding the body's subtle energies, Emotional Freedom Techniques (EFT) has proven successful in thousands of clinical cases. It applies to just about every emotional, health and performance issue you can name and it often works where nothing else will." (emphasis his, actually if you go to his site you will discover he is very fond of The Bold.)

He asserts that this technique will help with everything from pain management to addictions to eating disorders to weight loss and everything in between. For my studies though, I was particularly interested in how some people use the technique to help manage cravings.

To be completely honest, I was pushed into this experiment by my overly aggressive bag of Halloween candy (I hate you Willy Wonka and your CandyLand house of HFCS horrors). A junior mint here, a nerd there, pretty soon I was pooping green food dye and getting sugar hangovers in the mid afternoon. The neighbors were starting to talk.

Full of good intentions (and you know where those lead), I downloaded the free EFT instructional manual. First thing you should know - it's not a manual. It's eighty-freaking-seven pages. It's an e-book. As if your butt isn't already squished into the shape of your (very uncomfortable IKEA) office chair. I skimmed. A lot. Okay, so I just read the bolded stuff. But there was a lot of bolded stuff!

You get the two-minute rundown: basically there are points on your body that are supposed to be emotional release points. Using your index and middle finger you either tap or massage each point. Craig gives a very lengthy explanation and list of steps with various different formulations. Some would say I have a short attention span, I would say I'm built like a hummingbird, but however you look at it Paul McKenna is more succinct:

The Tapping Technique

1. I want you get the biggest desire for a food that you can right now. If you don’t have a big enough craving, put this technique to one side and come back to it when you’re really feeling it.

2. Focus on this craving for a moment, and when you’ve thought of that I’d like you to rate your desire for a food on a scale of 1-10, with 1 being the lowest and 10 the highest. This is important, because in a moment we want to know how much you’ve reduced it.

3. On a scale of 1- 10, how strong is your craving? Remember, if you’re not really craving a bite (i.e. your craving is not at least a 7), come back to this technique later.

4. Now take two fingers of either hand and tap about ten times under your collarbone while you continue to think about eating.

5. Now tap under your eye ten times.

6. Now tap under your collarbone again.

7. Place your other hand in front of you and tap on the back of it between your ring finger and your little finger. Continue to think about your desire for food as you do this and each of the steps which follow:

Close your eyes and open them.

Keep your head still, keep tapping and look down to the right then down to the left.

Keep tapping and rotate your eyes round 360 degrees clockwise, and now 360 degrees anti-clockwise.

Remember to keep thinking about the food you were craving as you do this!

Now hum the first few lines of ‘Happy Birthday’ out loud.

Count out loud from 1 to 5.

Once again hum the first few lines of ‘Happy Birthday’ out loud.

8. Stop and check – on a scale from 1 to 10, what number is your craving at now?

If it hasn’t completely gone yet, just repeat this sequence again until it does.

PS> There's a video if you follow the link to Paul McKenna's site.

That's right, you will be systematically tapping yourself in strange places whilst chanting happy birthday and counting like an over caffeinated preschooler. But other than your pride, what could it hurt to try?

For the last 3 days, every time I have gotten a craving for one of those nefarious little bars I have, much to my children's amusement, got down with the tapping, singing and eye rolling. In fact, it got so bad that the younger one really thought it was his birthday and the older ones were starting to imitate me. ("You can't do that sweetie, Teacher will think you have strange tics and send you home early and then I'll never get my workout in. Plus Teacher already thinks mommy is crazy because mommy missed your randomly assigned "birthday" - since you were a summer baby - and left you bereft of peanut-free cupcakes and/or smelly erasers.")

The end result? I ate less candy. For reals. I don't know why. Gary Craig would say that my negative attitude is making me skeptical. I personally think my negative attitude makes me fun at parties but I digress. Whatever the reason - whether it was just distracting myself long enough for the craving to pass or that I "set my emotions free" - it seemed to work. In fact, during one rebellious moment I consciously argued with myself about actually doing the technique:

Me: I want the Swedish fiiiiiisssshhhh!
Other Me: Do the EFT!
Me: No! Because then I won't want to eat the Swedish fish anymore.
Other Me: Well, huh.

I didn't do the EFT and I ate the Swedish fish, feeling marvelously defiant. Take that - ! Um, who am I rebelling against exactly? Me? Oh. Take that, me.

Like I said, I don't know why it worked. I don't even know if it will keep working. But there is a surprising body of research supporting this as a valid technique beyond just the power of positive thinking. Check it out. In the end, what do you have to lose? Except a little bit of credibility but who cares what those homeless people in the alley think. You shouldn't be shooting up smack anyhow. Besides, they're just jealous of your nifty hat.

Any of you have experience with EFT? Who's willing to do a mini-Experiment of their own? What holiday is your food downfall? (Mine's Easter - darn jelly beans.)

PS> Look for baby news coming soon! It is imminent!

Exercise and Your Immune System: Better health one dead rodent at a time

2009-11-03T21:01:00.007-06:00

Exercise boosts your immunity. It's one of the most touted reasons for getting a good sweat on and in this season where the H1N1 virus has become more popular among school kids than Miley Cyrus, this factoid is getting more play than Jude Law. But is it true? Does exercise really boost your immune system? Two new studies just out examine this connection and the results are not as clear cut as everyone would like to believe.

When I first fell in love with regular exercise and healthy (or healthier, anyhow) eating in my early 20's, one of the first things I noticed was rather than the 6 or so colds I'd been getting every year I was now only getting one or two. This was especially exciting as I'd watch my non-gym buddies drop like flies all around me while I remained hale and hearty because there's nothing I love more than some nice schadenfreude on a cool fall day. In all seriousness, people began to ask me why I never got the bugs going around and I was more than pleased to tell them "healthy living."

A few years later down the road of hubris and kids in that germ-incubator we call school had me singing a different tune. Suddenly I was getting more of the sickies although I was still proud to note that most of the time the case was pretty mild. This was also the time when I started to really ramp up my exercise (see GFE supreme failure double cardio). But I thought nothing of it because I knew - fallacy alert! - that the more I exercised the healthier I was. Still, I never quite made the connection.

Mice are smarter than I am. Well, research mice anyhow. This past week two studies were reported in the New York Times examining the effects of no exercise, moderate exercise and high intensity exercise. Both experiments involved little mice running on twee treadmills (adorbs!) and then being exposed to a lethal-to-mice flu virus. Researchers found:

“'A J-shaped curve' involving exercise and immunity. In this model, the risk both of catching a cold or the flu and of having a particularly severe form of the infection 'drop if you exercise moderately,' says Mary P. Miles, PhD, an associate professor of exercise sciences at Montana State University and the author of an editorial about exercise and immunity published in the most recent edition of the journal Exercise and Sport Sciences Review. But the risk both of catching an illness and of becoming especially sick when you do “jump right back up” if you exercise intensely or for a prolonged period of time, surpassing the risks among the sedentary."

This whole moderation thing makes sense to me - in theory of course, you know how I am - but it is that last sentence that really tweaked my interest. Could intense exercise - defined as "a workout or race of an hour or more during which your heart rate and respiration soar and you feel as if you are working hard" - really be worse for your immune system than being sedentary? I would think that of all three groups, the lazy mice would have fared the worst.

Not true say hundreds of ghostly rodents. The second study found, "more than half of the sedentary mice died [after being exposed to the flu virus]. But only 12 percent of the gently jogging mice passed away. Meanwhile, an eye-popping 70 percent of the mice in the group that had run for hours died, and even those that survived were more debilitated and sick than the control group." Lest mice aren't convincing enough, researchers also tested the level of immunoglobulins, substances that fight off infection, in the saliva of professional athletes. These researchers concurred with the rodents saying, “the longer the duration and the more intense the exercise, the longer the temporary period of immunosuppression lasts — anything from a few hours to a few days."

So what's a sweat-lovin' guy or gal to do? Especially if you are signed up for a marathon or other long immunosuppressing race this season? Some suggestions to prevent illness (also known as the OCD Christmas list):

- Wash your hands often
- Carry hand sanitizer (and use it)
- Don't touch your face
- Wipe down equipment at the gym both before and after using it
- Make sure your diet includes plenty of fresh fruits and veggies
- Get adequate sleep
- Get a flu shot, if you're into that kind of thing
- Stay home and rest if you have a fever, sore throat, body aches or sprout a curly tail
- Take it easy on the exercise if you just have a cold
(You've heard the rule: if it's above the neck, you're okay to work out gently; if it goes below the neck then stay the heck away from the rest of us you psycho.)

There. I'll stop being your mom now. Anyone else surprised by these studies? What are your tips for staying healthy this season? What has been your experience with your exercise and immune system?

Sleep Vs. Exercise: Which is More Important?

2009-11-02T21:25:00.006-06:00

Sleep is great. Not only does it feel awesome but it helps you burn fat better, strengthens your immune system, makes you smarter, lessens depression and helps avoid unfortunate decision making. (I may or may not have eaten about 20 mini candy bars pilfered from my childrens' Halloween stashes after a recent sleepless night, ahem). Exercise is also fantastic. It ups your metabolism, gives you greater energy, helps your mood, and ameliorates the stress incurred from any unfortunate decisions you have recently made. (The Almond Joys might have been really really good. Not that I'm admitting anything - that's between me and the calorie counter on the treadmill.) A lack of either sleep or exercise brings down a host of evils upon your head that I won't detail as we all know it is magazines' jobs to scare us silly but suffice it to say it all comes back to You Could Die. Consequently, one of the questions you hear the most bandied about in fitness circles - and one I think is answered the worst - is about how to balance sleeping and exercise in a time-crunched world.

Generally the person asking the question says something along the lines of, "I have one hour in the morning during which I can either sleep or workout. I can't do both. Which is a better health investment for my time?"

The advice-giver invariably answers, "You have to do both."

Over the sound of foreheads smacking desks, the asker mutters, "I just told you I can't do both."

Advice giver: "You must make time for both."

Asker: "Ideally, yes. But my life is not ideal, there are only 24 hours in the day and I have to sacrifice something. My wife ruled out offering up one of our children, my job is kind of important to life and so I've narrowed it down to either sleep or exercise."

Advice giver: "Exactly. Do both."

Not that I'm fond of trotting out my vast knowledge of Disney movies but the Sea Witch makes a good point to little perky-breasted (talk about a water bra!) Ariel when she croons, "Life's full of tough choices in it." Of course that was right before she pulled a Chase Bank credit card (yeah, you suck Chase!) maneuver and stole Ariel's twee voice after making her sign an incomprehensible contract but I digress. The point is that there are times when you will have to choose between exercise and sleep. And it isn't always as simple as advice columnists make it out to be.

For myself, I think you all know which one I choose. Confession time: when my current youngest (i.e. the one not still tenaciously occupying my womb) was in the hospital a couple of years ago with an unknown infection, I stayed by his side 24/7. He was so scared and so sick that the only way he would sleep was if I held him upright in the rocking chair. I didn't sleep for two days straight (also a measure of how scared I was). When my husband, who had been at home with our older two, came to spell me for a few hours so I could get some sleep and shower, you know what I did? I went straight to the gym and did kickboxing for an hour. I say this not as a point of pride - I am the girl who was diagnosed with compulsive exercise - but rather as a point of reference. Exercise: it's how I deal.

For many others however, it's the opposite situation. It's much easier to curl up in bed, hit snooze and ditch the morning jog. Sleep is how they deal.

The answer of course is the one thing I'm really not good at: balance. Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you that you must do both at the same time - although N8's comic above is wicked funny - but you do need to find that place of balance for yourself, weighing the pros and cons of each activity. For me that means forcing myself to not exercise sometimes. As I'm rapidly approaching that fabled sleeplessness that is life with an infant, I need to remind myself that lack of sleep makes me grouchy, depressed, and have mad sugar cravings. In short - cortisol city. It may be in my best interest to skip the gym in favor of a nap. For others that may mean forcing yourself out of bed three mornings a week to get in 30-60 minutes of exercise, even though you may not have had quite enough sleep.

In the end I think it is that concept of "enough" that we are all trying so hard to define. Most of us don't get enough of sleep or of exercise. Because life isn't perfectly calibrated. But that doesn't mean it's a loss! Just do the best you can do to fit both into your life over time and understand that on a daily basis you'll be probably be lacking in one area or the other. Here are some of my tips on how to do that:

- Make your workouts shorter. Crossfit, The Monkey Bar Gym and other interval or circuit style workouts offer a huge metabolic reward for a very short investment of time. You absolutely can get a quality workout in 30 minutes or less. You just have to work very very hard during those 30 minutes.

- Cut out TV. I know, I know, Glee is hysterical but if you are so time-crunched that you are forced to choose between sleep and exercise and TV I hope you realize which one of those three should go first. Trust me, its easier to do than you think it is!

- Take a nap. If it's one thing I learned from my time in Spain it is that every country should have a mandatory midday siesta. Remarkably restorative.

- Break up your workout into chunks. Yeah you probably won't change into workout clothes every time (although mad props if you rip off your suit and tie in a phone booth to reveal your Under Armor) but you can still work in lots of incidental exercise into your day.

- This may be my most important suggestion: Stop worrying about what you're not doing and focus on the benefits of what you are doing. Being a chronic worrier myself, I know how tempting it is to bemoan all that you are lacking but worrying only drives up those stress hormones. Every little bit - whether sleep or exercise - helps! So give yourself kudos for what you are getting right.

Certainly you all can do better than my wishy-washy answer though! Which do you think is the better investment: sleep or exercise? What tips do you have for finding that balance? Also, do they even have phone booths anymore? No wonder Superman died.

Combatting "Sitting Disease": November's Great Fitness Experiment

2009-11-01T20:00:00.007-06:00

Never say you can't get in some exercise at the office!

It is with great pleasure that I announce the comeback of the Great Fitness Experiment in practice rather than just in name only: For the month of November I am launching a new GFE. Lest you think I'm crazy and have forgotten the occupied state of my womb (4 days until my official due date!), I will tell you that I took that into account in picking this GFE. Which means, of course, that if a 9-months pregnant chick can do it, you certainly can too! It is based around one small fitness tweak that can have huge results. What is it? Standing.

That's right, I'm doing an Experiment about standing. Before you laugh yourself silly, consider the research, courtesy of Women's Health Magazine:
- Sitting down causes your body to shut down fat burning enzymes, reducing fat burnage by up to 50%.
- For every two hours spent camped out on your butt, your risk of diabetes increases 7%
- For every one hour on your backside, incidence of metabolic syndrome increases 26%
- Sitting for extended periods of time has also been linked to increased risk of heart disease and depression.
- Sitting for a long time is murder on your posture and can lead to all kinds of injuries due to weakened, imbalanced and inflexible muscles.

But, you say, I exercise! Every day, even! Unfortunately in our wired society, 30-60 minutes a day in the gym may not be enough to counteract the effect of playing potted plant for 8-10 hours a day, a number which sounds high until you actually count up all the time you spend sitting in front of the computer, the TV, at the table, in the car and on the floor because getting up when you can't bend at the waist is too much trouble (although that last one may just be me). Unless you have a very active job - like waitressing, construction work or hooking - then you probably spend way more time off your feet than on them.

In a recent study, Genevieve Healy, Ph.D., a research fellow at the Cancer Prevention Research Centre of the University of Queensland in Australia and her colleagues found:

"Regardless of how much moderate to vigorous exercise participants did, those who took more breaks from sitting throughout the day had slimmer waists, lower BMIs (body mass indexes), and healthier blood fat and blood sugar levels than those who sat the most. In an extensive study of 17,000 people, Canadian researchers drew an even more succinct conclusion: The longer you spend sitting each day, the more likely you are to die an early death—no matter how fit you are."

Come on, the researchers just broke out their trump card: sitting makes you dead! Ahem. Hyperbole aside, the fix for "sitting disease" and apparently all other modern travails is pretty simple. You have to up your incidental activity. The researchers call it NEAT for non-exercise activity thermogenesis because after conferences with booth girls, researchers love nothing more than a cute acronym. What that means for the rest of us is we have to find ways to move more.

The article suggests starting by making a commitment to stand up every half hour. I would add that maybe while you are on your feet, do a couple of jumping jacks or burpees. Not enough to get you all pit-stained before the big meeting but still plenty of fodder for your office mates to discuss behind your (well-toned) back. While I am not lucky enough to have physically present coworkers other than little people who already think everything I do is nuts, think of the fun you office people could have! You could swing at invisible bugs! You could make a sacrifice to the Purel gods in hopes of not catching swine flu! You could do a rain dance! Or a tap dance! Or the Single Ladies Dance (bonus points if you can get your coworkers to join in like on Glee)!! The options are endless really.

Okay fine, if you want more practical options the researchers add you can walk around whilst talking on the phone, suggest an outdoor jaunt when someone asks to talk to you, and the old sub-a-stability-ball-for-your-computer chair trick. (However, as someone whose job is done on a computer, I will tell you that the stability ball did not work well for me. It made my posture even worse and gave me terrible back pains.) Other ideas I thought of include standing up and walking to the kitchen or water cooler to get a drink of water, developing a trademark fidget or tic, using a stationary bike or treadmill while watching TV and - my personal dream - bumping up your computer desk to standing height and then buying one of those tall chairs so that you have the option of standing and surfing.

How's this for a multitasking device? It's a treadmill computer desk AND stability ball chair.

The Experiment
For the month of November, I am simply going to stand more. That's it! To remind myself to stand up every 30 minutes, I've installed TimeLeft, a free customizable desktop timer (it even plays mp3s in case dings bother you). In addition, I'm going to make 5 conscious choices to move more every day. (And yes, rocking the baby counts!) Pretty simple! Who's in with me? What are your ideas for simple ways to add more incidental movement to your life? And just out of curiosity, has that stability ball trick worked for anybody??

PS> If anyone has any suggestions on how to go into labor those would be much appreciated too!

Curing the Obesity Epidemic One Beatdown at a Time

2009-10-29T20:54:00.008-05:00

In a shocking display of honesty or hubris (both?), the immensely likable Robert Verdi recently said, "A lot of women say 'I should've been alive when Ruben was because I'm Rubenesque.' So times have changed. There are different cultural norms and values and beauty identities, and the fact that thin is in — who cares? It's why I stopped eating. I think food is for fat people and poor people. Rich people don't eat. They get dressed up and go shopping." [Emphasis mine.]

Dear Robert,
I adored you on Trading Spaces. And The Fashion Police was a guilty pleasure of mine for quite a while. I've heard (though not seen as I have a policy of never watching the movie version of a book I have enjoyed) that you were utterly charming on The Devil Wears Prada. If there was ever a man I would want to give me a much-needed makeover, it would be you! You are the rare makeover artist who can transform a person - or their personal space - without making them feel bad about themselves. That's a gift, sir. But even all of that love for your spunky knits and weird headware cannot make me overlook this.

Because this is a serious problem. See: Food is for people people. All people. This attitude that eating represents a loss of self control and is only for the déclassé is abhorrent. With one fell swoop you hurt poor people, fat people, eating disordered people, normal-weight-but-afraid-of-becoming fat people and pretty much everyone else within the sound of your voice that isn't part of the pill-n-party LA culture. As a woman of normal - sometimes even "low" - weight, I must tell you that your statement makes me sick to my stomach. Not from revulsion. From fear. I live in constant terror that were I to gain weight, I would no longer be deserving of love. It's was a primary factor in my eating disorder and remains a great source of income for my therapist. (That's me, stimulating our economy one mental health professional at a time!)

You may think you are just stating the facts ma'am but the problem is that we have created a culture where people would rather die than be fat. Why? Because it has become acceptable, praiseworthy even, to abuse, belittle and humiliate people for their weight. Take the recent case of Marsha Coupe, a British woman who was beaten to a bloody pulp by another woman for the crime of taking up two seats on a train. There are so many horrible things about this incident: First, that the attacker was another woman; Second, that the train was practically empty; Third, that the motive for the attack was clearly and specifically targeted to the victim's weight as evidenced by the attacker screaming, "You big fat pig" before kicking Coupe in the face.

Coupe explains, "The government and the press have created an atmosphere where people think they have a legitimate right to go up to an overweight person and tell them how to live their lives. To them we are all the anonymous pictures of fat people they see in the papers and are the cause of all society's ills, as well as a drain on the NHS. We deserve what we get. We're not people with feelings."

So back to you Robert - your statement that fat people are not deserving of one of the most basic human rights, food, is exactly how we get to thinking that overweight people deserve whatever abuse people see fit to heap upon them because in the end it's "for their own good." If only we all had the self control to just blithely give up food like you! Psychologist Ros Taylor takes on this sadly prevalent attitude saying, "There is true aggression towards overweight people and it comes down to fear and a complete lack of understanding of the issue. People think 'I can control what I put in my mouth so why can't they'. But we're not all the same, we don't all start from the same point."

I'd like to think you were just being glib and silly, in the way that you so often got people to laugh at the silly and unflattering clothing they were hanging on to. Except that your statement and the attack on Marsha Coupe are two sides of the same soul-destroying coin. This time people are getting hurt, really hurt and it's not entertainment anymore. So I say with love: Please shut up.

Sincerely,
Charlotte

The Supplement Your Personal Trainer Won't Tell You About

2009-10-28T20:30:00.002-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight I'd like to present to you to the 1992 winner of Molecule of the Year. (Yes, that's an actual award. No, I don't think you get a trophy or a modeling contract out of it. Yes, I know I'm a geek.)

Nitric Oxide (NO)
Tired of getting confused with it's hilarious-at-parties-but-really-vacuous-cousin N2O (a.k.a. laughing gas), this sexy little number plays a big part both in polluting our atmosphere and in running our central nervous system. It is also involved with how much hair you lose, penile erections, and acclimating to high altitudes. But aside from these nifty accomplishments, NO has another very interesting effect - it is one of the best vasodilators we have.

A vasodilator means that it works on the inner lining of your blood vessels to open them up by relaxing your smooth muscles and thereby increasing blood flow. It is frequently used in hospitals, particularly in pediatric units to treat babies with meconium inhalation lung problems. (For those of you who've not had a baby, meconium is the tar-like first poop that your precious little nugget excretes soon after birth. Incidentally only one of many strange substances that will ooze, spew and dribble from various orifices in said nugget. Some babies, however, poop while still in the womb. They then breathe in the meconium which can cause all kinds of problems.)

Who Cares?
You do. And here's why: it's become one of the hottest muscle building supplements on the market. That's right, one of the worst pollutants known to mankind and simultaneously a wonder pediatric drug, is being used to Pump You Up.

What does it do for you, exactly? According to one product, N.O. -Xplode, it does everything but cure malaria and solve Rubix cubes blind-folded. Bask in the unfettered (and unedited) hyperbole:

"N.O.-XPLODE is an extreme pre-training energy and performance igniter. From the very first serving you will experience elevated physical and mental energy, muscle-expanding pumps, unparalleled strength and stamina; not to mention tunnel-vision like mental focus, allowing you to zone in and have the best training session possible. By combining all of these benefits in one knock-out formula, you will experience a level of training intensity that you never thought was imaginable, getting you physically and mentally dialed in for the training session of a lifetime; leaving those days of lack-luster workouts behind. Once you train with N.O.-XPLODE, you will never train without it! NO-Xplode has the unique ability to get you dialed in and pumped up for every single workout by inducing a strong and advanced nitric oxide, creatine, and body-mind stimulating surge."

(Note to N.O. Xplode - I realize that spelling is not your strong suit but let me tell you that as a chemistry teacher it hurts me deep inside to see you punctuate N.O. That makes it sound like a rapper or a euphemism for something dirty, which amount to the same thing, I know. But. It is okay to just write NO. It is also okay to just say NO. To drugs. Just saying.)

Alter(ed) Egos
Sold under various names and formulations (such as Black Powder & MuscleTek NaNo Vapor), it is generally one of the more expensive supplements out there. GNC tries to hard-sell me on it every time I walk in their door. (Well, except they are in the mall so they don't have doors. But they do have a nice little massage chair! And now suddenly I'm rethinking my decision to buy vitamins from the mall.) Anyhow - typical retail price: $63.99-$79.99 for one bottle. Although the last time I went in the salesman tried to sell me on NO2 Black... for $103.99. Dreams of a fat commission vanished before his eager eyes as I plopped down two $13.99 bottles of fish oil. Although his frown could also have been because my kids just knocked over his entire display of vita-paks and were now riding the rowing machine like a pony.

Pros
I received this tip from a reader who wished to remain anonymous. He is a mid-20's collegiate competitive athlete who tested this out for us. Mr. X (for Xplode, NOT for XXX, sickos) seemed hesitant to talk about it at first but then waxed rhapsodic about being able to up his reps, maintain his weight through an extra set, and "push through previous barriers." He added that his perceived exertion was less for the same intensity of exercise and it also helped him stay laser-focused. He admitted that this last effect might be due to the caffeine, of which there is probably a lot although no product listed exactly how much. Mr. X added that this was one of his favorite supplements (the other being creatine) and that he felt it had provided measurable muscle gains.

Cons
Mr. X added an interesting caveat: He is a personal trainer and yet he would not recommend it to any of his clients. His reasoning was that as a highly trained athlete he knows what his limits are and what his body normally feels like so if anything fishy started happening he could back off immediately. A novice lifter would not have that self insight.

Other known side effects of NO include:
- headaches (the most often reported side effect - and a known effect of vasodilators)
- "Xplosive" diarrhea (Oh how I chuckled! I love punny people. Punny lifters? Even better!)
- dizziness, light headedness
- heart palpitations ("like I was on speed" - probably the caffeine)
- insomnia (again, probably the caffeine)
- increased flushing (getting red in the face, nothing to do with toilets people)

Conclusions
This is interesting to me. On one hand I love anecdotal evidence in the form of personal experiments. As long as the person is not getting paid to talk about the supplement (and Mr. X wasn't) then their opinion means a lot to me. Most muscle-building supplements just don't work but it sounds like this one might actually do something.

One the other hand, it's air pollution. You're imbibing fruit punch-flavored air pollution. That can't be good. Plus there's the whole vasodilation thing. I kinda like my veins the way they are (even if they are a little bulge-y). I also don't like supplements much in general. And if they put it in Viagra...? Lastly - $103.99?! Egads.

Any of you try this stuff? Tell me what you think of it! I need more input!! Also, what do you think of a personal trainer who takes things he wouldn't advise his clients to?

Update: Reader FitJerk, who is a professional supplement reviewer (didn't even know they had those!) made an iteresting point about the mechanics of this product in the comments that I was worth bumping up: "There is no NO being produced in these products. They contain the ingredient L-Arginine which is supposed to be a pre-cursor to N.O but it ISN'T! Studies have proved it. In fact, the amount of L-Arginine you'd have to take to even notice minute benefits of a "pump" is about 30g. At that dose you'll have stomach cramps and upsets before a major pump. The amount of L-Arginine in N.O Xplode is a few grams... if that. So it's all insignificant. The only reason you feel anything after taking this stuff is because of the 200+ mg of caffeine (about 2 cups of coffee worth) and the fact that your body produces a natural pump while resistance training. So if that's what you want, might as well just drink a friggin' RedBull."

Three Hollywood Halloween Trends That Need to Die

2009-10-27T20:30:00.002-05:00

Every year Halloween provides an opportunity to let out the parts of us that we normally keep under wraps in a nod to polite society. For one day a year however, you are encouraged to be as violent, sexual, inane or un-PC as your little heart desires. Even given these lax rules there are still ways to cross the line.

Pregnant Cliches

While the rest of the world is dressing up as the Octomom for Halloween (and laughing at their cleverness), this year Octomom Nadya Suleman is sporting the ever-popular-among-drunk-college-freshman Pregnant Nun costume. That costume was old and unfunny even when I was in college. 8 years ago. It ranks right up there with dressing up as a pregnant bride, a pregnant man or a feminine hygiene product. The weird part is that she made her babies into little devils. I think most of us can agree that the roles ought to be reversed. Okay, not that babies should be pregnant nuns - that would be weird - but Suleman could definitely work the horns. I mean the only way her real-life pregnancy could have been more freakish was if she really had been a nun. Is it smart to call attention to that?

Child Hookers

With child sex trafficking being a very real and immense problem in our global society, it seems incredibly dense to me that any parent would let their child dress up as prostitute for Halloween. Sure there is an outcry every year over sluttified pre-teens in "bunny" "kitty" or "other cutesy animals that end in -y" making costumes out of lingerie and a pair of ears but Noah Cyrus (Miley's little sister) ups the ante on this trend. First, she's nine. Maybe I'm as old and lame as the Pregnant Nun costume but, um, she's in elementary school. (Well, at least I hope she's in school. For all I know she's one of those Hollywood kidlets who is "tutored" on whatever movie set she's currently working on.) The only time a fourth-grader should be this close to flashing her underoos is if she is hanging by her knees from the monkey bars. Second, as far as I can tell she's not even pretending to be anything. Other than a street walker in search of a corner. Would it have killed her to put on a witch's hat and thrown a cape over her shoulders? Or at least gave a shout-out to To Catch a Predator? (Edited: So I just noticed that she's standing on a red carpet. What if she's not attending a Halloween party like I assumed? What if she's just... dressed like this?!)

Padded Underthings... For Men

This last one isn't a Halloween trend but I'd still like to see it die. Calvin Klein jeans recently released a new line of jeans for men that promise "an enhanced profile." As in a padded fly. Journalist Michael Miller tried out a pair, concluding, "They were a breakthrough! Such comfort, such support! And yes, my confidence was bigger! It looked bigger, at least." While some women might be tempted to say this is just desserts for years of padded and push-up bras, girdles and Spanx, I'm going to say that I don't think this is progress in the right direction.

What do you think? Am I just not getting Nadya Suleman's unsubtle brand of humor? Am I being too much of a prude about wee Noah? Should men rejoice that they finally get their own line of shapewear? What's your most hated Halloween trend?

The Strangest Offer Anyone Has Ever Made Me in the Gym

2009-10-26T20:30:00.000-05:00

Officially the weirdest offer anyone has ever made me at the gym (yes, this even beats all the Quixstar nee Amway pitches): "If you're still pregnant next week, I'll bring my gloves and I can just strip your membranes in the locker room."

Warning: Gross Biology Lesson Ahead!
For those of you uninitiated with all things uterine, "stripping the membranes" involves separating the amniotic sac from the cervix. With their fingers. Take my advice and try not to picture it. This is often done as a way to start labor although a 2008 study shows, sadly, that it doesn't work other than to give the mother-to-be mad cramps and some spotting. Having had it done in prior pregnancies I can tell you it is uncomfortable on several levels although if you are pregnant you will just have to get used to everyone short of the Channel 5 news crew checking out your cervix. I generally insist on being introduced first but I learned after my first kid not to even bother asking them to buy me dinner first.
Gross Part Over!

To be fair, the woman offering is an actual registered nurse and personal friend which made it a bit less awkward. But just a bit. Being the YMCA, I'm sure that stranger things have happened in our locker rooms but I'd prefer not to add to that list, no matter how desperate I am to get this baby out! Still, I thanked her. It was an offer made in kindness!

Countdown to B-Day
With less than 2 weeks to go until my due date, I'm definitely in that end stage of pregnancy where everything is so uncomfortable I'll go through anything just to make the heartburn, hemorrhoids, swollen feet (not that I can see them), and jumping jacks on my cervix stop - even if that means labor and delivery. Today I made all the final physical preparations by getting the nursery all ready. I even ironed all her little dresses - how neurotic is that?. I painted two walls, mopped my floors on my hands and knees (so I could get in all the corners, see), got caught up on the laundry and scraped all the melted crayons out of my heating vents. Can't have a baby coming home to Crayola fumes, right? I mean sure they say they're non-toxic...

It's official: I'm crazy.

Other Updates:
I made my pies! I did indeed use the lard. I froze two but ate one (the family didn't help nearly as much as they should have) and it tasted divine, thanks to all of your helpful tips! Sadly it looked like total crap. Who knew that rolling out dough in a circle is the baking equivalent of the Mensa exam? But all the apples were used: mission accomplished!

My mini-Experiment with my SAD Happy Light is still working out really well. It hasn't quite been a week yet but I swear I feel better already. Placebo shmamebo - I don't really care why it is working, just that it is! Although I have discovered that sitting in front of 10,000 lux does give me headaches so I've broke up my one-hour session into two half-hour ones.

Lastly, I was wrong. And I have no problem admitting when I have made a mistake. Many of you called me out this weekend for my post entitled "Coast Guard Recruits Anorexic Women in New Ad Campaign" saying that my calling the thin model anorexic was unfair and judgmental. I agree with you. It was a bad choice of words. While I still have my reservations about using overly thin women in advertising, I do offer my apologies for the way I wrote about it.

So what's the strangest offer anyone has made you at the gym? Please, someone top my story!!

What To Eat When You're Sick

2009-10-25T20:30:00.000-05:00

Jell-O drink. That's what my mom called the concoction of red Jell-O powder mixed with hot water and served in a mug that she gave us whenever we were sick. Looking back, I'm not sure if it was an actual recipe intended to soothe and heal rather than an attempt to stop the whining of a sick kid while using only what she could find in our depleted pantry. While it won't win any health awards, it was so sugary delicious that no matter how sore our throats were she could still get liquids into us.

I was reminded of Jell-O drink this past week when my kids came down with the flu. Yes, the influenza flu. And yes, it was probably swine flu (a.k.a. H1N1 a.k.a. The Plague of All Nations if you listen to the media) according to the doctor. They put the whole family on Tamiflu in case the baby is born in the next few days and so I, fortunately, didn't get the bug! Still, I got a little panicky. I'll admit it. My eldest had a fever of nearly 104 and his zombie stare was freaking me out. So I did what any good mother does when a child is sick and you feel completely powerless to help - I tried to feed him.

Remember the old adage of "feed a cold, starve a fever"? I never put much stock in that. How are you supposed to recover if you are starving? My poor feverish sons though were completely on board with that. The more they refused food, the more I tried to get them to eat. At last, when I went back to the store for the 4th time in 2 days to get more medicine, in my desperation to get them to ingest something, anything, I bought them all the things I think of as "sick food." Popsicles, root beer, pudding, juice, ice cream, Cheez-its (um, what??) and of course Jell-O all went into my cart. (Side note: I was terrified I was going to see someone I knew and they would see all the crap in my cart and judge me.)

My kids thought the swine flu was the best thing that had ever happened to them. The last time we had soda pop in the house was when everyone had the stomach flu a year ago. You'd think they'd never seen white bread before from the way they devoured an entire loaf in an hour. Long story short, they ate nothing but cold and/or sugary confections for three days straight. My relief that they were taking in calories and the much-vaunted fluids was quickly usurped by the fact that everything they were eating was nutritionally void. The homemade chicken soup I made? Untouched. Yogurt berry smoothie? Left to rot (or become more yogurty because, you know, it's already bacteria laden). Even my whole wheat pumpkin muffins - usually a five star favorite around here - were ignored.

Ah, mother guilt. Despite the fact that everyone healed up quite nicely (and quickly - thanks Tamiflu!), my shame persists. Surely if there is ever a time a body needs healthy food, it is when it is sick! Right? And yet when I get sick generally all I want to eat are plain Cheerios and hot Tang. Seriously, Tang is like crack to me. Especially the sugar free garbage; I love me some hot aspartame.

It got me thinking, what do you all eat when you are sick? Are you all about the brussells sprouts and salmon to bolster your weakened immune system? Or do you have a comfort food too? Also - anyone else ever think that everyone is looking at what you buy at the grocery store and silently judging you??

Coast Guard Recruits Anorexic Women in New Ad Campaign

2009-10-22T20:12:00.006-05:00

Coast Guard Born Ready "Female"

(If you get this via e-mail or a feed reader, please click thru to see the video.)

First watch the above video; it's only about 30 seconds. It's an ad spot from the US Coast Guard sent to me by Reader A. She writes:

I saw a commercial last night for the Coast Guard that blew my mind, and I'd love your opinion on it/other people's opinions on it. Basically, the premise of the commercial is that this girl wasn't born to sit at a desk, she was born to push herself, challenge herself, be a stronger person, etc. They show her running out of the office and cross country - through town, across fields and bridges and woods and finally across rocks until she stops just at the water. The whole idea is she is so strong, etc. Except the girl they use in the commercial, running long-distance and protecting her country, makes a lot of the celebutantes you see constantly accused of being anorexic look healthy. Honestly, one of the first things that popped into my head was the scene from the "THIN" documentary where one of the girls (in an eating disorder IP center) says she joined the Air Force to lose weight. The funny thing is they did the EXACT same commercial with a guy, and he looks fit. Not too big or too small, plenty muscular. (And I mean it's the same commercial - same dialogue, same running out of the office and same running trail.) I still can't quite wrap my head around the irony of a size -2 skeleton advertising hey-let's-join-the-coast-
guard-and-be-physically-fit, especially while the guy version IS fit. Are they trying to appeal more to girls - trying to promote it as a way to lose weight if you join, like the girl in the documentary? Are they just buying into the "ideal" body? Could they just not find any healthy-weight models? I'm not sure what I think about it, but I'd love some other opinions.

A's questions intrigued me on several levels. I have to admit that the first time I watched the ad, I was not particularly struck my the actresses' thinness although A is right - she is definitely very very thin. There are two brief moments right after she runs through the river where you can clearly see her chest bones through the V in her top. I think this is because I am used to everyone from fitness magazines to TV shows to gym advertisements using women closer to fashion models than fitness models to sell their wares. I mean, remember this ad campaign from Men's Health? The models are certainly not what I envision the epitome of healthy woman to look like (not to mention she might possibly be missing her legs?):

The second thing that was interesting to me about A's question is that quite often the military uses weight loss and increased fitness as a selling point in getting people to join up. These days it's definitely all about talking up the self-improvement aspects and downplaying that whole "you might die" part. In which case it makes sense to show thin, fit people in the ads - aspire higher right? Except that the actress in this particular spot may possibly be thin to the point of unhealth. And I'm willing to bet, knowing many military folk myself, that were she to do any sort of boot camp she would probably bulk up a little bit. In addition to the exercise, the chow halls are not exactly renown for their healthful food options - especially if you are stationed overseas. (Active military personnel feel free to correct me on this!) All of which makes this feel like a bait-and-switch.

The last thing that interested me in A's question was the concept that "health" looks different on a man than a woman. With men, it seems like muscular definition is the first criteria for judging a man's fitness. Weight probably doesn't even show up in the top 5. Yet for women, weight is the number 1 factor people use in deciding whether or not a girl is physically fit - even though research has shown this to be an unreliable marker.

So what do you guys think of this ad? Does it make you want to join the coast guard? Anyone else not even notice the skinniness of the actress at first? How do you judge someone's - or your own - health?

Using Light Therapy to Combat Seasonal Affective Disorder

2009-10-21T15:17:00.009-05:00

For a girl who hates winter as much as I do, moving to the Land of Eternal Winter (a.k.a. Minnesota, The State That Might As Well Be Canada) may not have been the best idea. While I love snow and adore Christmas, the combination of super-cold temps and very short days have a drastic effect on my mood. My problem first started in Seattle where while it doesn't have the Dementor's Kiss-esque cold that Minnesota does, it is far enough north to have precious few daytime hours - hours that are besmirched by constant cloud cover. Come October, I'd feel the anxiety begin to ramp up every day around dusk and an inexplicable irritation with every member of my household. November brought zombie-eyed apathy and a fierce desire to sit in the one warm spot in our house and not move, causing me to neglect basic necessities like laundry and keeping a kid from shoving red craft balls up his nose that could only be removed by a doctor with a special tool (he wanted to be Rudolph, see). By December, unless the kids need something I'm pretty much living full-time in front of said heating vent and craving simple carbs. And by January I'm fully and officially depressed. I have SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder), a depressive state brought on by the lack of light in the wintertime that afflicts millions of people worldwide.

Last year I attempted to prevent the onset of my SAD by taking vitamin D supplements, a tactic that while certainly didn't hurt, failed to provide a significant improvement. In the past I have tried antidepressants which did lift the veil of depression but at the expense of some rather strange side effects (gotta say I kinda miss those crazy Cymbalta dreams!). It also seems silly to me to start taking a drug every year in December only to drop it cold turkey in April when the sun comes out, as I inevitably do. I've also tried other remedies for depression like fish oil supplements and exercise, the latter of which works beautifully. Except that I can't do it 24 hours a day (not that I haven't tried!)

Despite a solid body of positive research on the subject, the one thing I haven't tried yet is bright light therapy, mostly due to the pricey nature of most official SAD lights. But this year I found a deal on Amazon.com with this Verilux model and so my Christmas has come early: My (SAD) Happy Light arrived today!

It's hard not to judge a product by the box it comes in and so when Fed Ex dropped it off this very rainy and gloomy afternoon, I was struck with two impressions:
1. This sucker is big. Huge, actually. I have it set up next to my computer and it dwarfs my CPU.
2. The warning says very prominently "Do not use on the genital areas." Do I even want to know why that warning was necessary? No, no I do not.

According to the directions, you are supposed to sit in front of it - but not looking directly into it - for 30 minutes to 2 hours a day depending on the distance you are from the light and how much light you need. It works by tricking your brain into thinking you are in the bright summer sunshine by sending a barrage of visible light into your eyes. You are supposed to do it first thing in the morning to avoid messing up your circadian rhythms. Undeterred (and with my pants firmly on), I plugged it in and switched it on.

I now know what it must be like to watch nuclear bomb testing. Or to attend a Kanye West concert and bask in his self-professed light. It was practically blinding. This baby is packing 10,000 lux (the average indoor light is less than 1,000 lux) - the amount designated by scientists as the base therapeutic level for SAD. It's like my own personal spotlight; all I need now is a wind machine and I'm set!

Frequently Asked Questions About Light Therapy

Can't I just tan instead?
According to skincancer.org, the answer is no. Even though many tanning salons (falsely) advertise their product as cure for wintertime blues, tanning beds, which use UV rays (not part of the visible spectrum unless you are a honey bee), actually have no therapeutic light effect - especially if you wear the goggles - and they also cause skin cancer and cataracts. Bad news all around.

I have a history of skin cancer, can I still use a SAD therapy light?
Absolutely. The therapy lights, while very bright, are only comprised of the visible spectrum and have very few UV rays which are generally blocked by a filter on the lamp. The therapy lights work by helping you take in more bright light through your eyes; contrary to popular belief they are not supposed to work through your skin. They will not give you a tan. The therapy will be unaffected whether or not you wear sunscreen.

What should I look for in a SAD therapy light?
There is a lot of confusion on this one with many products from small incandescent "natural light" bulbs to large fluorescent blue floor lamps being marketed as such.

Choose a Light Box With 10,000 Lux of Illumination. Light boxes offering fewer lux are not as effective.
Use a UV Filter. Most light boxes use fluorescent bulbs, which emit a small amount of UV radiation. Your light box should have a UV filter or diffusing screen to protect your skin and eyes.
Opt for Soft, White Lights. Full spectrum lights produce greater amounts of blue light (which can harm the eyes) and UV radiation.

Are there any side effects?
It's a very very bright light so you are advised not to use it at night as it may cause insomnia. Headaches and eye strain were also listed as potential problems although I think those could be avoided by not staring into the light itself. If you have known eye disease or other eye problems, you should consult a doctor first. There was also that whole genital thing although I'm not exactly sure what effect that is supposed to prevent.

How much do they cost?
Most medical models seem to be around $400 (for an ugly lamp?! I know.) but cheaper ones can be found. You just have to be careful that they still meet all the criteria. The one I found on Amazon was $175. Still steep but I told my husband that was all I wanted for Christmas. You can also find used ones on eBay and Craigslist. Some insurance providers will cover the cost if you get your doctor to write you an actual prescription for one (although my insurance wouldn't - jerks.)

Does it really work?
The research supports it. As for myself, I have only used it for one day and whether it was just the placebo effect or the light itself, I did feel like it made a definite difference in my mood and energy. The pamphlet said to use it for 10 consecutive days before the full effect would be achieved so I'll certainly let you know how it goes from here. For once, I am really hopeful going into fall!

Anyone else get SAD every winter? Have you tried a happy light? Any Canadians want to tell me to stop whining until I've experienced one of their winters?

Wear Underwear: This PSA Brought to You Courtesy of Charlotte

2009-10-20T21:17:00.002-05:00

This proprietor is obviously the victim of some seriously bad advice.

Being the sort of person who has to learn things the hard way - as demonstrated by the time I lit the lab on fire because I wasn't listening to the directions. That I gave. Because I was the teacher - I have had ample opportunities in my life to be on the receiving end of lots of good advice. So when Deb - lovely, smart but deluded woman that she is - asked me for the three best pieces I'd ever gotten it was hard to narrow them down. Probably the most encompassing one was "Don't be dumb (dude)" but seeing as I can't seem to go a day without breaking that one, it might be hypocritical of me to pass it on to you!

To hear my top three pieces of advice that I did not come up with but wish I had, check out my guest post over at Deb's Smoothie Girl Eats Too!

Saturated Fats: Now With Less Evil!

2009-10-19T21:11:00.008-05:00

Armageddon has arrived. I know it is the end times because I currently have this sitting on my counter:

That's right, at this very moment, a brick of honest-to-goodness liposuctioned-from-swine lard that I purchased and brought into my own home of my own accord is sitting in my kitchen. I know, I can't believe it either. This little brick of Babe encapsulates everything I have tried to avoid for the past ten years. Aw heck, make it the past 20. It's fat. Not just fat but saturated fat. Animal fat! Fat purely for fat's sake!!

I blame the apples.

On Saturday, in an effort to appease the SAT gods whom I worship by grading interminable mediocre essays*, I sent the wee ones off with my husband for a little fresh air and cider at the nearby apple farm. (It's organic! It's local! It's family owned! My yuppie heart swooneth.) I was anticipating them returning invigorated, apple-cheeked (naturally) and perhaps with a twee bag of fresh Honeycrisps, also known as Apple Heaven a.k.a. The Only Reason I Can Abide a Minnesota Winter.

They returned with a bag of apples all right. A 25 pound bag of apples. "You should have seen the kids! They were downright industrious! If only they would clean their rooms with that kind of vigor," my husband explained. Yet, not even the most voracious pregnant woman could eat that many apples before they rot so we immediately started planning what to do with them. We made 5 quarts of applesauce - which me being the delinquent homemaker that I am did not can but rather froze as I do not have the faintest idea how to can other than it involves a medical sounding implement called a water bath - along with a double cobbler and muffins. That accounted for half the bag.

"What about apple pie?" my husband suggested hopefully. At first I was all set to veto it on grounds of health concerns but then I remembered I'm having a baby shortly and the Holidays That Require Pie are nearly upon us. "We could make several and freeze them!" I enthused, visions of Marie Callendar dancing through my head. Imagine me, 3 weeks post-partum, showing up to the neighborhood soiree with a home-baked apple pie! It would be a coup on par with showing up in my pre-pregnancy jeans. Or my Betty Homemaker dress and pearls.

Those of you who know me at all are laughing your butts off right now. I can barely cook much less make a pastry that is as notoriously fickle as pie crust. I called a friend who is a pastry pro for advice. "You have to use Crisco," she said bluntly. "No way, no how, sister," I refused. "Crisco is the grand dame of partially hydrogenated oil." She sighed, "Then you need lard."

Five years ago those words would have sent me cowering behind my refrigerator hoping I didn't set any mouse traps off as I wept in fear. But a few months ago, I read Nina Planck's book Real Food (you may remember my review) in which she makes the point that we shouldn't be afraid of animal products as long as they are the real deal. I believe she has an entire chapter devoted to the salutary properties of a lard pie crust (it's right after her Ode to Whole Milk). The current research on saturated fat agrees with Ms. Planck, showing that it is not the demon nutrient it has long been made out to be. And then, just this week, I read all about how The Bag Lady rendered her own lard. It's like making jam but out of pig pieces! And it's shaped like a loaf pan! Charming!

It all seemed so natural, so pioneerish, so... healthy? Okay, so apple pie is not health food. It's not meant to be. I have tried "healthifying" it in endless variations all to end up at the same place: Not Pie. Some of the apple dishes I have made in the past have tasted okay. But they just weren't pie. Now, I love me nothing more than an apple baked just to the point of warmth - can't lose the crispness! - and sprinkled with cinnamon but one can't exactly show up to a Pie Holiday with a dish of cinnamon dusted apple slices. Trust me, I've done it. They don't get eaten. Sometimes you need pie. Plus my husband loves pie. And I love my husband.

So I bought lard! A whole pound of rendered pig fat shaped like a loaf pan of my very own. And I gotta say, it feels good. Somewhere my great grandmother is grinning.

Butter! Whole milk! Full-fat yogurt and cottage cheese! LARD! Have any of you made your peace with saturated fats? Or is it still the devil nutrient to you? Anyone have any pie-making tips for me??

*Yes, by day I am a WonderMom (at least that's what I say the cape and boots are for) but by night I grade the essay portion of the SAT test. Every time I post about doing that, I get half a dozen e-mails from readers wondering how they can get the same gig. First a warning: it is the world's most boring job ever. You will want to poke your eyes out. Second: You need a minimum of 3 years teaching experience at the high school level or above. If you're still interested, e-mail me and I'll happily pass you along to HR!