The Great Fitness Experiment

The Problem With Fitness Hair (Giveaway!!)

2009-07-12T20:35:00.007-05:00

Well, this might do the trick. But then I might have more problems than I started out with... (photo credit)

Turbo Jennie calls it her splash zone. Not because she has any resemblance to Shamu - quite the opposite - but because anyone within a certain radius of her gets sprinkled with her sweat as it gets flung off the ends of her hair as she teaches TurboKick. Admittedly cardio kickboxing is a very sweaty endeavor but Turbo Jennie is not alone in this problem. Another instructor has to wipe the mirrors in front of her off when she's done teaching, so prolific is her sweat flippage. As for me, I routinely whip myself - or on the odd occasion some poor gym soul who dared to stand too close - in the face with a sweat-soaked pony tail. It stings! Especially if it gets me in the eye.

The problem is not that we are all super sweaty girls. The problem is our hair. Despite what TV and fitness mags would have you believe, us girls do not show up to workout with long flowing locks swinging happily in the breeze. Unless you like the taste of sweat and dirty hair, you have to restrain those suckers. The issue is how.

A ponytail is generally the first solution. Of course you have to have hair long enough to pull back into a single rubberband. Then you have to deal with layers or bangs that won't pull back. And then you have to check the mirror for "bumps" (at which point I think I just lost all the men reading). And then there's placement of the pony: the right-in-the-middle-of-the-back-of-your-head look favored by fitness models only works if you will not be laying on your back. Ab work, weights, yoga, and Pilates all hate that ponytail. So do you move it up high to the top and feel 5 again? Or do you ride it low and endure the feeling of so much hair on your neck? And what to do with the resulting ponytail "dent" when you're done?!

You may decide that the ponytail just won't work. There are still lots of options: pig tails, french braid(s), head bands, sweat bands, do rags, barrettes, scrunchies (seriously??) and the ever-popular scaffolding of bobby pins. One of my personal faves: crazy buns a la Gwen Stefani:

I'm the one on the right and don't judge me - it was Crazy Pattern Day in Turbokick. (You can't see it but my thigh-highs have polka dots on them!)

Each method has its pros and cons. Headbands - the elastic kind that go all the way around - pop off my head like they're spring loaded. (Speaking of head bands, have any of you tried that hair wrap stuff? I bought a roll and cannot make it work! If I tie it on my head I end up tying my hair into it which really hurts. If I tie it off my head it's never the right size. Once I get it on my head, it twists and pulls my hair. What's the trick? 10,000 high school soccer players can't be wrong...) Do rags keep all your hair down but they also make your head hot. And bobby pins, while very effective at holding hair, can pinch, twist, pull hair and sometimes sproing across the room at inconvenient moments. I'm just waiting for somebody to lose an eye in a group fit class.

My current fitness hair regimen involves a high-ish ponytail (that I can loosen and push up if I have to lay on my back) and my bangs pinned back with X-ed bobby pins. This works okay except I have to readjust several times, especially if we do headstands in yoga. Between all the hair fussing and the constant pulling on my bra straps (love the pregnancy rack, hate the double-bagging), I'm adjusting myself more than a male teen-aged swim team in their first Speedo uniforms.

One Solution - Hair Zings
Billed as "the original double comb hair accessory," the Hair Zing is a contraption made up of two hair combs (yes just like your granny used to wear) held together by a web of beaded elastic. According to their promo materials, they won't fall out, pinch your head, pull your hair or leave a crease. Ponytail dent solved! Even better is they lay flat against your scalp so you can lay on your back. You can even wear them swimming. And I got to try one out!

This is the one I picked: lots of fun colors and really stood out against my dark hair. Who wants to blend in??

So how was the Hair Zing in practice? The first issue is figuring out how to put it in. It looks really simple which is why I didn't read the directions first. I'm telling you now: read the directions first. Once I got it down though it wasn't too tricky. But then I couldn't figure out how to get all of my hair into it. No matter which way I stuck it in, there was always some hanging down on my neck. I hate hair on my neck. Hate. But I'm game for anything so I went ahead with my workout. It was a good thing I had my ponytail holder on my wrist for backup though as the Hair Zing slid right out of my hair. To be fair, I have really fine, thin hair. Headbands, barrettes, clips and even rubberbands also slide out of my hair so this probably wasn't the failure of the Hair Zing but rather my head. My real beef with the Hair Zing as a fitness accessory? It was so pretty! I know! It was all beaded and cutesy and made even a simply pull-back look like an elaborate do. The fitness downside was an everyday upside though as I did enjoy wearing it as I ran my errands. And it didn't fall out during normal daily activities.

My verdict: the Hair Zing doesn't doesn't solve my fitness hair problems but then not much does. It was really pretty and fun for everyday use and I'm excited to see what other hairdos I can do with it. (Want some ideas? Check out their website for tons of gorgeous hair pics.)

Want to try one yourself? I have THREE to give away. Leave me a comment telling me what your current strategy is for managing your fitness hair. Or tell me a funny story about your gym hair. The random number generator will pick three winners to be announced Friday.

New Research: A Distorted Self Image Linked to Weight Gain

2009-07-09T21:24:00.004-05:00

I read FitPregnancy. It seems slightly silly to me, this being my fifth (I'm a breeder!) pregnancy and all and yet I'm still drawn by the lure of Build An Entire Maternity Wardrobe Out of 5 Simple Pieces (of clothing I could never afford) and essays by professional athletes who do two-hour trail runs when 9 months pregnant (despite the fact that I can barely chug out a mile these days). One thing never fails to catch my eye: research. While most of it only pertains to preggos - apparently swimming at least once a week helps you use less pain meds during delivery (okay, universe, I hear you!) - there was a piece of general interest today.

I don't have the exact quote but the research blurb stated that women who are of a normal weight but perceive themselves to be overweight gain twice as much weight as women who can correctly identify their body type. Overweight or obese women who perceive themselves to be of a normal weight or underweight gain eight times the amount of weight of a woman who can correctly identify her body type.

Genetics, friends, social pressure, media influences, and family are all factors in weight gain that are often discussed but this was the first time that I have come across research that says a distorted body image causes you to gain weight. And it doesn't matter whether you think you weigh less than or more than you actually do - apparently any distortion causes a measure of weight gain!

The implication is that no matter what your weight, if you are honest with yourself about it then you will gain less weight over time. It's so simple and yet so hard to do!

The magazine blurb being annoyingly short, it did not attempt to explain these results. My first question is do the women with the distorted body image really believe that they are heavier/lighter? Or are they knowingly lying to themselves? If they do truly believe what they told researchers then perhaps that indicates a measure of body unawareness that would correlate to food intake. On the other hand, if they are willing to lie to themselves about their weight then perhaps they also are willing to lie to themselves about food intake. My personal theory - unsupported, of course, by anything but my own eating disordered past to draw from - is that women who are uncomfortable with their body have an uncomfortable relationship with food.

I'll admit that I have a difficult time being honest with myself about my body. If you show me one of those body-type lineups (as they often do as part of eating disorder therapy) and ask me to pick the one that most closely resembles me, I always end up picking one bigger than myself. According to this research, that puts me at risk of gaining double the pregnancy weight of a woman without my mental issues. Scary stuff for someone who is terrified of gaining weight!

How about you - are you able to be honest with yourself about your body type? Have you noticed a correlation between a distorted self-image and weight gain? Anyone else have a shameful magazine addiction??

Do Skinny People Sell More Chocolate?

2009-07-08T20:30:00.000-05:00

Once upon a time in a rainy kingdom far, far away on Ye West Coast, I was a Godiva girl. No, not the riding-a-horse-naked-through-town kind (can you imagine the chafing?) but the chocolate-pimping kind. My day job was as a professor but due to my directional dyslexia I ran a stop sign and totaled my car thus necessitating a night job. I didn't want anything that required brain power and it also needed to be temporary because I was only sticking it out until I got my car fixed.

I considered it divine intervention when I saw the help wanted sign on a jaunt through the mall. A short interview with the manager (Do you like chocolate? Can you work nights? Can you smile for three hours while a woman tries to decide between a champagne truffle and a raspberry star while her toddler licks the entire display case from top to bottom?) and by that evening I was wearing a black apron with gold lettering and a name tag that said Sharon - the closest they could get to Charlotte without actually having to make me a name tag.

My first night was awesome. They paid me to sample every single chocolate Godiva makes. At the time I believe it was over 60 items. The down side is that you have to do it all at once so I ended up just taking one tiny bite of each $26.50/lb confection and then - yes - throwing the rest away. The rest of the night wasn't as exciting but other than doling out a few little gold boxes and learning how to tie the signature Godiva bow - which has come in handy many a Christmas let me tell you - all I had to do was chat with the other night salesperson.

Like any minimum wage job, there was a revolving cast of characters so entertaining that I should probably write a book just about them, but it occurred to me after the second week straight of listening to Odes to Eminem that one thing would make this job totally perfect: my best friend Tasha.

Tasha had an infectious laugh, a rapier wit and, best of all, the ability to make fun of someone in such a nice way that they totally ended up laughing right along with her. And she needed a job. Perfect! I told my manager, a woman who still wore a black velvet mock turtleneck and quoted Reality Bites despite it being well into the new millennium, and she agreed to interview Tash. Seeing as Tasha was smart, cute, funny and hygienic, I figured we'd be snacking on samples and playing Spot the Tranny by the next evening.

So I was dumbfounded when Tasha told me she didn't get the job. I knew my manager was desperate for night-shift workers. I knew there was no way Tasha had blown the interview. So what happened?

I didn't want to believe her when she told me the reason, calmly, as if it hadn't bothered her at all. You see, Tasha was fat. Not gargantuan but definitely well into the plus sizes. I was incredulous. Surely they wouldn't say "Sorry, you can't work here you're too fat." I mean, wouldn't the mere utterance of that phrase cause lawyers to descend on our fake foliage like a pack of locusts? She explained to me that my manager just said the job had been filled but that she was sure the real reason was her weight.

Never one to hold my tongue, and let's be honest, not caring about the job anyhow, I confronted my manager at my next shift.

Me: So who'd you hire for the night shift?

Turtleneck Girl: Oh, I haven't found anyone yet.

Me: What about Tasha?

TG: Oh, you know, she wasn't right for here.

Me: Why not?

TG: I just don't think she'd fit in.

Me: How would she not fit in?

TG: Well... I don't think the aprons would fit her. (Hello! Aprons have got to be the most one-size-fits-all item of clothing ever invented!) And this is a pretty small store and sometimes there's a lot of people jammed in here.

Me: You think she wouldn't fit in the store?!

TG: Plus, we've got this whole company image to adhere to and you know....

Other Worker Guy: (leaning in and whispering) Look sweetie, people don't want to buy chocolate from a fat girl. They want to have the illusion that they can eat the chocolate and still look like us. If there's a fat girl behind the counter reality smacks them right in the face. You can kiss your sales good-bye.

My manager went back to fixing the register tape and the other worker went back to stacking little gold boxes and I lost my innocence.

I should have quit on the spot, on principle. But I didn't. I got my car fixed and quit a few months later and Tasha and I never spoke of the incident again. But to this day, every time I pass a Godiva store I peek in, looking for overweight salespeople. I've never seen one yet.

I'm curious: does it matter to you if the person selling you pricey chocolate (or clothing or any other luxury item) is overweight? Have you ever noticed a preponderance of skinny people in retail? Have you ever experienced discrimination based on your looks?

I'm Having a Baby...

2009-07-07T20:30:00.000-05:00

Girl!!

Even better, all of the genetic tests have come back 100% clean so it seems that the Turner's Syndrome that killed our oldest daughter, Faith, will not be an issue this time around. There were tears when the ultrasound tech gave us the news. It's not that I wanted a girl more than a boy but rather I just never thought I'd get this opportunity. My husband and three boys are very excited (although I'm pretty sure the boys don't even know what the word "girl" means yet). I just feel extremely blessed.

And nervous. Because I wouldn't be me if I hadn't already started worrying about how fit I am, with all of my self-image issues, to raise a daughter. The day we found out, I immediately called my sister to tell her the good news.

"Oh, yay! A little Charlotte!" she exclaimed. (It's widely acknowledged that our boys look just like my husband - fortunately he's the handsomest man I know.)

For a brief second I pictured a little girl with curly black pigtails, pink cheeks and a crooked grin, just like I had growing up. And then that image was erased by years of fighting said curly hair, trying to hide the ruddiness with makeup and worrying about my thin-lipped smile. Oh, and don't forget my nose. I gasped, "I hope she at least gets his long eyelashes! And thick, wavy hair! And green eyes! Oh, and I definitely hope she gets his metabolism."

My sister paused. "She's the size of a banana and you're worrying about her metabolism?"

I know. I'd just found out an hour ago that she was healthy and my insecurities were already intruding upon her life.

My sister, who has two daughters herself, heard my deep sigh and consoled me, "It gets easier. You'll get better at it."

I'd better because if I know one thing, it's this: Self hate is not the legacy I'm leaving my daughter. My love for books, my gregariousness, my delicate hands - there are many good things I hope she inherits from me.

In the meantime though I really do hope she gets my husband's eyelashes. Seriously, they're so long he trims them with scissors because they bother him.

PS> For those of you who care about such things, back when I was 10 weeks pregnant I did use Intelligender, that new pee-in-a-cup baby gender predictor kit that you can now buy at Walgreen's. You can use it as early as 6 weeks and they say it's 90% accurate. It was in my case! It said girl and the ultrasound confirmed it. Unfortunately it also told Gym Buddy Allison that she is having a girl and four ultrasounds later we're pretty sure it's a boy. So take that for what you will!

What Do You Eat When You Eat Alone?

2009-07-06T20:30:00.000-05:00

A lot of research and discussion has been devoted to how people eat in groups. We already know that people eat about 30% more when dining with friends and that teen girls have a reduced incidence of eating disorders when they participate in family dinners and that we eat more in "healthy" restaurants, among other interesting food-as-a-social-construct tidbits. But a new book (which I haven't read but really want to, thanks NPR!), What We Eat When We Eat Alone, finds authors Deborah Madison and Patrick McFarlan on a quest to discover how people choose to eat if left entirely to their own devices.

The question du jour - what do I eat when I eat alone? - is one I have not given much thought to. This is probably because I honestly cannot remember the last time I ate alone. Having wee ones at home 24/7 precludes any semblance of normal dining, much less solitary dining. In fact, these days I'd settle for a meal where nobody regurgitates their food, throws silverware or insults my cooking while invoking their favorite potty word.

The last time I was alone at all, when I accompanied my husband sans children on a business trip, I was too busy relishing the fact I got to lounge around on a pillow-top mattress and watch all the MTV I could guiltily enjoy (what?) to worry about eating. I had a bag of trail mix, a packet of turkey jerky, instant oatmeal that I could make with the coffee maker, and a mint chocolate Luna bar to tide me over during the days until dinnertime when we'd go out with his coworkers to some crazy expensive restaurant and eat a lot of yummy food. Which brings me back, again, to the fact that I haven't eaten alone years.

Still trying to answer the question, I went way back in time to my pre-marriage college years. And you know what? Between living with 3-5 other girls (don't ask), dating and coworkers I don't think I ever ate alone even then! How weird is it to be a grown woman of 31 and to have never had a memorable meal alone? Thinking back on it, I came to an epiphany of sorts - I don't like to eat alone. If I am alone, I don't eat. I don't "forget" per se, like some people claim to do, but I'll put off eating until I can share a meal with others. I guess I've always been a social eater.

So my long-winded answer to what I eat when I'm alone is that I don't eat meals alone. I'll snack - or not - until the rest of the pack shows up dragging the wooly mammoth behind them. But someday all my kids will be in school (I know, I can't imagine it either) and ostensibly I will have at least one meal a day all by my lonesome. Will I make lunch dates with friends? Call my sister and eat on the phone with her? (Yes, we do that.) Or will I finally learn to enjoy the pleasure of solitary dining?

All of which makes me wonder what you eat when you eat alone. Do you cook yourself a beautifully crafted, nutritionally balanced meal eaten off real china at the table? Lean Cuisine in front of the TV? Or do you just kinda snack like me?

Burn 1,000 Calories An Hour!

2009-07-05T20:30:00.001-05:00

You've seen the workout program ads: in between shots of glistening, contracting abdominals and hyper smiling people who only sweat in socially acceptable places - your amped up cleavage if you are a woman, your shaved pecs if you are a man - comes the promise. What, you ask, can a DVD workout/exercise book/smiling B-list celeb promise me when it comes to cardio other than a perfect body, chiclet teeth and a spray tan so authentic that real sunshine is jealous? Why, the promise of amazing ultra-high superbad caloric burn of course!

I was reminded of this the other day as the Gym Buddies and I were sweating away on the elliptical machines (not our go-to workout but they were refinishing all the floors in the studios so it's what we were left with) and one of those ubiquitous exercise program infomercials came on. While we were giggling about watching people on TV exercise while actually exercising, large letters flashed up on the screen. "BURN up to 1,000 CALORIES AN HOUR!" flashed over all those heaving chests - the "up to" in conveniently small type of course.

This infomercial - may Billy Mays rest in peace - is not unique. All fitness programs, televised and otherwise, seem to make some kind of caloric promise. But how accurate are these claims? And does knowing the potential calorie burn of a workout help you make a better choice on how to sweat?

Can You Really Burn 1,000 Calories An Hour?
Anecdotal evidence first: According to my overly generous heartrate monitor of which I was once so attached to that I would turn around and go home to get the chest strap if I accidentally forgot it despite the fact that being small chested meant that it looked as if I was wearing some kind of strange back brace, I have burned over 1,000 calories in a single workout. The scene was "Holiday Turbokick" a special brand of torture that Turbo Jennie likes to put us through on occassions like the day before Thanksgiving, where we do 8 "turbos" (a high-intensity inverval lasting between 30 seconds and 2 minutes) interspersed with 4 finales or some such craziness. By the end I am turboing in a puddle of my own filth and can wring out my tank top like a Shamwow. It's enough to make a girl puke up her turkey before she even eats it, is what I'm saying. But by the time we hit cool down, I had burned just over 1,000 calories.

So it would seem possible - although unlikely (who wants to work out so hard you vomit every day?) - to attain that magic number. Except for two problems. 1) My heart rate monitor isn't terribly accurate. While I trust it's ability to read my actual beats per minute, its calorie burn function is apparently calculated based off a 6'6" male Russian Ice Swimmer. To prove this, I switched heart rate monitors with Gym Buddy Allison, who wears a Polar, and racked up 200-400 less calories per hour than my watch gave me.

2) Even the venerable Polar can't really tell you your caloric burn as metabolism is so individual as to render any mathematical formula at least slightly inaccurate. The research in this area is more prolific than one might think. Companies that make a living off of guaranteeing a good workout have invested a lot of energy into trying to figure out what number of calories people can expect to expend using their machines or programs. What they have discovered however is that while they can predict how many calories an individual, say Michael Phelps, is burning, those results are very difficult to generalize. In addition to individual metabolisms there are simply too many other variables. Therefore, the honest companies will give you a range of calories. The disingenuous ones will use that sneaky little phrase "up to" and then give you a Michael Phelpsian number.

Why Does it Matter How Many Calories You Burn?
Every fitness expert will tell you that weight loss, gain or maintenance comes down to simple math. It's all about the calories you take in through food in relation to those you expend through daily life and exercise. This over simplified truism often leads people to think things like, "If the treadmill says I burned 250 calories, then that means I can eat a 200 calorie muffin and still come out losing!" This, in turn, has made calorie burn the gold standard in assessing a fitness program's worth.

But dig a little deeper and you will realize that not only is calorie burn not the best indicator of a workout's power, it actually distracts you from other benefits of exercise. For instance, weight lifting typically doesn't burn comparatively as many calories as cardio for the same amount of time and yet it has many advantages like increased strength, muscle mass and overall functionality. Similarly, HIIT (high intensity interval training) burns a smaller amount of calories during the actual workout but causes a much greater spike in HGH (human growth hormone) than twice the amount of traditional medium-intensity cardio. Lastly cardio exercise is good for many things like increasing your oxygen utilization and building endurance, besides just burning off last night's dessert.

Is It A Good Thing To Burn 1,000 Calories An Hour?
Ignoring for a moment whether or not it's even possible to burn that many calories, one must ask if it is even a worthwhile fitness goal to strive to burn a particular high number of calories. To get that kind of calorie burn, one would have to push very hard in a high intensity type of cardio. Much has been said - and ignored - about the dangers of too much aerobic exercise in the highest heart rate zones. It elevates the stress hormone cortisol, causes systemic inflammation, necesitates longer recovery and increases your risk of injury, just to give you the short version.

In addition, an often overlooked fact by dieters and diet purveyors alike is that the more you exercise, the hungrier you get. From my personal experience the more calories I burn, the more my body wants to replace them - and fast. What's the quickest source of glycogen for our depleted muscular system? Sugar. I have found that after a long training run, it's almost impossible for me to stay away from the Jelly Bellies and other simple carbs for the rest of the day. However, when I strength train and/or keep my training volume low my sugar cravings diminish significantly (unless I'm PMSing but that's a different story entirely). Research backs me up by showing that dieters who create a calorie deficit purely from exercise don't lose weight - because their bodies eat to adjust. So, what's the point in burning (up to) 1,000 calories if my body is immediately going to want to replace (at least) 1,000 calories with whatever food is easiest for me to scarf down?

Conclusions
Calorie burn doesn't matter. First, chances are that unless you are an Olympic swimmer, you're not burning what they say you are burning. Second, it's probably not giving you the result you are looking for. If you are exercising for weight loss, then you aren't doing yourself any favors by torching excessive calories and signalling your body to go into eat mode. And if you're exercising for fun and/or weight maintenance then calorie burn is just another number.

All of which is not to say that exercise - even an occasional session of long, intense cardio - shouldn't be done. Ask any triathlete, marathon runner or Iron(wo)man if their race was worth it and most of them will give you an enthusiastic yes. But it isn't because they burned 3,000 calories, it's because they were having fun and it gave them a sense of accomplishment. Does it mean that I don't get a great workout from Holiday Turbokick if I don't burn quadruple-digit calories? No! I'm still increasing my endurance and having a lot of fun to boot. My point: When we are evaluating the merit of a particular fitness program, there are a lot of better factors to consider than supposed maximum calorie burn.

But enough about what I think! What do you think about the calorie-burn claims of fitness programs/machines/gurus? Anyone else ever get obsessed with their heart rate monitors? Anyone have a particular fitness infomercial that they just can't stop watching??

Possibly the best workout video I have ever seen. "Eurotrain!!!" is going to be my new motto.

Help Me To Love Swimming

2009-07-02T20:30:00.000-05:00

What activity does every personal trainer tell you to do if you are injured/cross training/looking for a change up? Swimming. What activity does every pregnancy expert tell you is the best exercise for gestating moms? Swimming. What activity does my dear friend Dr. Jon - who is 70+ but looks like he's 40 and acts like he's 20 - swear by? Swimming (and some kind of crazy form of karate that I'm dying to try and yet also terrified of). And what have at least a dozen of you asked me at one point or another to do a Great Fitness Experiment on? Swimming.

I hate swimming.

Let's get one thing straight: being raised by parents who consider swimming a life skill and not optional, swim lessons were mandatory all the way up to high school. I can swim. I can freestyle, back stroke, breast stroke and - the one I hate the least - side stroke just fine. I just don't like to.

I know what you're thinking - Charlotte's body image issues rear their ugly head again! But, weirdly, that's not my problem. First of all pregnancy gives me a pass on having a flat stomach and secondly the only people who swim at my Y during the time I'm there are the elderly and tiny tots. I'm fine with the whole swimsuit-in-public thing. So what's my deal, then? Why aren't I hopping gleefully into the water and letting the buoyancy cradle my baby and my soul?

1. I hate being cold. I'm so intolerant of cold that it's become a running joke in our household. And to me anything short of a hot tub is considered cold. You know that feeling of first diving into a cold (okay, probably lukewarm) pool and slicing into the water? Some people love it. They think it's refreshing or something. I hate it. I'm immediately freezing and then I'm so grouchy about being cold that the first twenty minutes of my workout are ruined by my crabbiness. And then? Once I'm done I have to reverse the process by leaving the now-warm pool (no, I didn't pee in it) and facing the cold of the pool deck followed by the even colder locker room.

2. I hate being wet. I have really dry skin and the chlorine is like a chemical peel, especially on my face. I also just don't enjoy the sensation of water on my skin. It irritates me. I haven't taken a bath since I was 10 because I can't stand sitting in water.

3. I feel like I can't breathe. All pools have that layer of chlorinated warm moist air right above the water that unless you lift your head completely out of the water - like you are not supposed to unless you are a granny in a shower cap - you must inhale and exhale. I feel like I'm breathing through a damp rag.

4. I don't like wet hair. Confession time: I only wash my hair twice a week. Oh, I shower every day (except when I don't) but having very dry, very thin hair it actually works out better to not wash it every day. Honestly it styles better when it has 2-3 days of gym sweat build-up in it. When I do wash it, it's a pain to do. I do not have wash-n-wear hair. It doesn't dry straight or curly but must be coerced - with great heat - to do one or the other. However, if frizzy ever comes back in style I'm all set.

5. It's such a production. You have to remember your suit and your goggles and a towel and extra clothes and a blow dryer and lotion and shampoo and flip flops and your arm wings (kidding!). It takes forever to get in the pool and twice as long to get out. Not to mention that you have to shave places that in a month or two I won't even be able to see thanks to the belly. Why go through all that when you can just arrive and be sweating it out in a class (that doesn't require a bikini wax) within 5 minutes?

6. You can't talk. You guys know that my gym time is my social time. My head is a noisy place and scary things happen when I am left alone with it for too long. While you can swim with a friend, that's really in name only as you won't hear, see, or talk to them for the duration of your workout. I'm chatty; I'd miss my friends. Even if they were just in the next lane over.

7. I wear contacts. Without them I'm blind. (True story: when I was 16 I jumped on the back of a boy in the pool whom I thought was my brother - thanks to my seriously limited vision - only to realize my horrible mistake when he turned around with an indignant "Can I help you?") Swimming + contacts = all kinds of problems.

Now that I've thoroughly depressed you, you may be wondering why I unleashed this torrent of whine on you. Here's the thing: I want to want to swim. If that makes any sense. I want to like it! It's such a great workout and I need a change right now and, well, I'm pregnant! So I'm turning to you guys - I know tons of you love to swim. Tell me about it! Help me turn my frown upside down and belly flop gloriously into the pool!

What's great about swimming? Why do you like it? How have you overcome your challenges with swimming?

What To Do With a Sports Injury

2009-07-01T20:30:00.002-05:00

Scene: the sweat-soaked, MRSA-ridden, gritty, black stretching mats at the Y. My face is planted in a pool of someone else's grime while I try and stretch my quads. I am trying not to inhale. Grossed out? It gets better. I look up to see my friend Bobby (Hi, Bobby!!) taking off his running shoe and gasp as his sock is covered in oozy bright red blood, nearly to his ankle. Bobby seems unperturbed. "That's funny," he says. "I didn't even feel anything!"

"Blister?" I ask. I shouldn't be grossed out - a mother who is a community health ed nurse breeds that out of you right quick - but I suppress a shudder. A better friend would run to get him paper towels and a band-aid. In this instance I don't even qualify as a decent friend as all I can do is stare.

"Nope," he answers as he peels off the sock.

Fresh blood can look like a lot more than it is. Now I consider running to get band-aids - to put over my eyes. I blame childbirth. Ever since my little monkeys started spewing bodily fluids I've gotten a lot wussier. My mother is not proud.

"Sharp toenail," he finally declares. I faint.

Do You Really Want to Hurt Me?
My shin splints. Gym Buddy Allison's rolled ankle. Gym Buddy Candice's poltergeist rib. Injuries and exercise, sadly, go hand in hand.

Ace bandages and knee braces are the fashion statement du jour on the treadmill. Bruises, wrist straps and weight belts abound on the weight floor (but no, all the shaved heads are not indicative of a mental injury or a Britney fetish - although I'd love to see you ask one of those meatheads about it!)

In fact, if you pick any random person at the gym I bet you a thirty-pound dumbbell dropped on your chest that they have an injury story to tell. If they're really, um, lucky they even have their very own pet injury - one they can feed & clothe and love just like a Webkin but without the yearly subscription fee!

Do You Really Want to Make Me Cry?
I won't tell you about the worst exercise injury I've ever seen (In high school a soccer player caught his foot in a hole in the grass and went down, breaking his FEMUR. It sounded like a RIFLE going off. The bone came through his SKIN. His coach THREW UP. Sorry, that just popped out. I think I still have PTSD from it.) but I can tell you some things to help avoid exercise injuries.

1. Don't exercise. Oh, wait. Not an option? Fine. You can do Sit and Be Fit. Mmm... except I bet somebody somewhere has fallen off their chair.

All right - if you exercise you're going to get hurt. To be fair, if you do anything other than breathe you are going to get injured eventually. Which is why you need to be as smart as you can (wear appropriate clothing, ask for a spot when you need it, stretch properly etc.) but don't despair when the inevitable occurs. (Knock, knock, knock on wood. Well, at least I think this is wood. If it's not and I get injured today I'm so suing IKEA.)

Working Around An Injury
1. Rest. I am the worst possible person to talk to about this because as long as I can still get my shoes on, I'm in the gym that day. Hopefully you are not as compulsive as I am. But in case you are, at least try and rest the affected part. If your shins hurt (aHEM), try swimming or bike riding. If your wrists are sore avoid pull-ups and push-ups. The key here is to keep resting your Achilles heel even after it starts to feel better. Depending on the severity of your injury it could take weeks or even months. When I stress-fractured my leg last year I was off all high-impact activity for 6 weeks. If I can do it, anyone can.

Ice, heat, massage and those crazy-fun foam rollers can also do wonders for mild injuries.

2. Get the proper equipment. Don't let your pride or impeccable fashion sense prevent you from getting those butt-ugly orthopedic shoes or knee brace or basketball goggles (hee!) if you need them. Wear them with pride, bro, wear them with pride!

3. Don't repeat. This sounds like a total duh but since I am so guilty of this one, I'm going to say it: don't make the same mistake over again. Even if this means you can't exercise at the level you used to. If you hurt your knee because you upped your mileage too fast then don't do it again! Up your mileage slowly next time. Train for the surface you run on. Don't walk and chew gum at the same time.

4. Strengthen the supporting muscles. I can't say enough good things about this one. If you have knee pain, do more quad, ham & calf exercises. Stronger legs will help stabilize your knee and help it from going out again. Back pain? Make sure you are doing lots of core exercises. Ask a doc or physical therapist for exercises you can safely do to help with your injured area.

5. Whine a lot. Well, actually, have a good support group. Complaining loudly to a friend makes it feel so much better. Misery loves sympathy:)

AIEEEEE!
I probably shouldn't ask this but I can't help myself: what's the worst exercise injury you've ever seen? Have you ever had to work around an injury? Anyone else have a pet injury?

The Art of the Awkward Hug: Tips and Tricks For Hugging People in The Gym

2009-06-30T22:04:00.009-05:00

As if being in a gym setting isn't opportunity enough for physical awkwardness - I have, actually, walked into the men's locker room by accident twice - but add being pregnant on top of everything and it can make life very... touchy. Fortunately I'm not overly sensitive to touch. You'd think with my history of inappropriate touch I'd be all weird about it but for whatever reason my issues lie in other areas (like getting overly offended at burger joints suggesting I must fellate my sandwich to properly enjoy it (I wanted to do a whole post on that stupid ad but couldn't bring myself to actually post that pic. (Hey, triple parentheses! I haven't had this much parenthetical fun since I taught math!))). At any rate, I don't mind at all when people pat my "bump" or throw their arm around my shoulders. In the right situation, I'm even a fan of the sweaty hug.

While there are as many Awkward Hugs as there are awkward occasions - hello Mr. Blind Date! - I think the Sweaty Hug is unique to a fitness environment. If you've ever crossed a finish line or completed a really difficult group fit class or even walked out of the bathroom onto the track (yes, the upstairs bathrooms at our Y actually open up right onto the track) at the wrong moment, then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It's the Awkward Hug where at least one party but possibly both are sweaty from head to toe and yet find themselves in an occasion that warrants hugging.

What To Do If You Are A Hugger
Yesterday a girl came up to me after Hip Hop Hustle to wish me a happy birthday and to congratulate me on my pregnancy. There was squeeeeeing all around. And then the moment came. "Oh, I'm so gross!" she said by way of apology as she flung her arms out. "I'm a sweaty mess!" I declared and threw my arms around her. It was Awkward. First, because you don't want to smell the other person or make the other person smell you and second because we were both so slippery that any aggressive hugging would have left us one kiddie pool away from a sorority Jell-O wrestling contest. And so we kind of gripped biceps and patted the damp spot in between the other's shoulders. It was a good sweaty hug.

The ante for embarrassment ups considerably if you are going to attempt a mixed-gender Sweaty Hug. These are less common although I will say I've been party to more than a few of these. I recommend the one-arm-swing-and-pat method. It's close enough to convey your goodwill and still sterile enough to prevent any accidental sharing of bodily fluids. A good loud laugh and a buddy-punch in the arm afterward go a long way in short circuiting the Gym Rumor Mill as well.

Man-on-man hugging is the most rare of all the consenting hugs. Fortunately basketball has taught us that if you are a man in a hugging situation with another man, the best thing to do is to smack him on the butt. Don't ask me why smacking someone's rear is more socially acceptable than hugging them; I don't make the rules.

What To Do If You Are Not A Hugger
When two people are not matched in their hugabilities, this is when the real Awkwardness sets in. Some huggers are aggressive - there is nothing short of kicking out one of their kneecaps that will thwart them in their attempt to sweaty hug you. I've found that unless the person is completely objectionable and/or scary (in which case by all means, take out their knee), the best thing to do is to let them hug you and then quickly move away, putting something like a weight bench between you and them to preclude any additional hugging.

If you absolutely cannot handle the thought of someone, especially if they are sweaty, touching you, then this is a great time for a little white lie. My favorite is, "Oh, sorry! Just got spray tanned!!" This is especially funny when you consider I'm Casper. Other acceptable get-out-of-hugs-free excuses include having a contagious illness (but then why are you at the gym?), having a phobia of germs, and having a killer martial arts instinct that you just can't control. It helps if you take a step back and wave your hands in front of you while apologizing. (Funny story: Gym Buddy Allison and I were at a TurboKick gathering one night at a restaurant that had dancing. A man came up to ask her to dance. She stepped back and waved her hands in front of her in classic "no" fashion. Which he thought was a cool new dance step and started doing it back to her! You should have seen them no-noing back and forth for the 30 seconds it took her to escape. I would have helped her except I was laughing too hard.)

Ambivalent Huggers
The most Awkward Hug of all is when you have two ambivalent huggers. They think they maybe should hug - after all, a finish line was just crossed! - and yet they're not really huggers. So they move back and forth, maybe one of them makes a small move, until they either meet weirdly in the middle and limply pat each other or they run away screaming because they can't handle the tension anymore.

Other Gym Hugging Rules
- Never hug someone while they are lifting weights. Not even if you call it "spotting."
- Never hug someone from behind. Fitness people are often very fast and strong and do not like to be startled.
- Never hug during a grapevine left or a hop-over-the-step or any other cardio move. You'll trip up the whole class.
- Don't hug someone in the locker room unless you are both fully clothed.
- Don't hug someone while they are stretching - just too much potential for misplaced limbs.

So, what did I miss? Are you a hugger, a non-hugger or an ambivalent hugger? Anyone just love a good sweaty hug?

Tennis Officials Call Serena Williams Ugly, Send Her to Back Courts

2009-06-29T20:30:00.001-05:00

Quick, name this profession: long, slim, toned bodies poured into tight fitting - but adorable! - clothing and jumping around in front of a bevy of overeager photographers, magazine editors, and camera crews. Oh yeah, and there's a lot of "grunting" involved (oh, the scandal!).

Did you say modeling? Actually, it's tennis.

With East European beauties such as Maria Sharapova, Anna Kournikova and Elena Dementieva ruling the press coverage of the sport, one would think they must also be ruling the courts. Not so, say many tennis insiders. Often the best courts and play slots (and hence the better media coverage) are given to the women who are better lookers rather than the ones who are better players. This is even true at the venerable Wimbeldon tournament where officials admitted last night to putting the prettiest female players on the famous center court even if that means relegating the uglier-but-higher-seeded women to the new auxiliary courts. Wimbeldon spokesman Johnny Perkins said unapologetically, "Good looks are a factor." Observe:

In center court we have seed No 59 Maria Kirilenko of Russia

The number 1 seed? You'll find Dinara Safina of Russia way over in court 2.

Back in the center court we have No 28 seed Sorana Cirstea of Romania

But where is the number 2 player? The U.S.'s own Serena Williams (edited from original text "Venus": I'm an idiot and can't tell my Williams sisters apart.) is back on court 2.

Never having played tennis outside some embarrassing weekend recreations that we won't discuss, I have no idea if being moved to another court or being told flat out by officials that you are homely would affect one's game. Venus and Serena Williams seem to be pretty indomitable despite being stuck out in the hinterlands (I know! They're gorgeous, right?) but if it were me, I think it would mess with my head and probably my game too.

On the flip side, it also makes me wonder if the "pretty" center court girls worry more about which custom Nike tennis dress they will be wearing than if their backhand is stellar. Or, even worse, that they might avoid lifting weights or training hard because they don't want to "bulk up" and look more like the muscular athletes they are than catwalk models.

Of course no similar trend has been noticed among the men. Apparently the tennis officials are just giving the people want they want - and they think we would rather see pretty-but-weaker-players rather than the strong athletes that would show the best athletic competitions.

The question is, are they right? Do you watch tennis for the cute miniskirts and pom-pom socks? (And if so, you've heard of competitive cheerleading, right?) Any of you out there tennis players? Is an overemphasis on looks, like found in ballet and gymnastics, a big part of tennis?

The Problem With Lying About Your Age

2009-06-28T18:39:00.005-05:00

photo credit: Dina Goldstein

I'm 31 today. Not 29 for the third time. Not "a woman of a certain age." And I'm certainly not "the new 20." I'm 31 and I'm totally okay with that. I was not in a very good place when I was 20. You couldn't pay me to be 17 or 13 or even 8 again. 30, and so far 31, have been very good to me. I'm finally learning to measure my years not by my accomplishments but by the quality of relationships in my life. I'm very blessed to have a loving family and the best friends - and I hope you don't mind that I'm counting all of you in here - a girl could ask for.

I was not always this Yoda about my chronology. There was a time I lied about my age.

My 27th year, my birthday fell just days after moving to a new town. All new TV stations to memorize, three new phone numbers to rattle off, a baby due any minute and hundreds of new people to meet; you will forgive me for forgetting my birthday. Life was in upheaval that day and so when a new acquaintance asked my age, I said what came naturally: 26. That in and of itself would not have been a problem if once I had realized my mistake, I had corrected it.

It turned out that the girl I told I was 26 was in charge our neighborhood playgroup and as she relayed that information - along with my due date, my kids names and ages, and my shoe size (8 1/2 in case anyone needs gift suggestions) - to all my new mommy friends. Embarrassed, I just went along with it. Then, for consistency's sake, whenever anyone else asked my age, I told them 26. I did this for an entire year. You can imagine the web of lies that created.

Frankly, I'm amazed it lasted as long as it did. The moment of truth - literally - finally came on my birthday the next year. I was turning 28 but all my friends thought I was 27, just like I'd been telling them for the past, oh, twelve months. Surprise! They showed up at my house on my birthday to kidnap me for a wild night of dessert we didn't have to cook and girl talk that revolved around anything except due dates, kids and shoe sizes. "Happy 27th Birthday!" they all cried. And then my husband busted out laughing. I think he might have actually fallen on the floor.

"Charlotte's 28!" he guffawed.

My friends, confused, looked at me. Who was wrong - me or my husband? Me. Sigh.

I 'fessed up. Thankfully all my friends remained my friends afterward although to this day when I tell someone how old I am, Gym Buddy Allison always laughs and asks me, "Are you sure?"

The year of lying about my age was not without precedent. I have a history of wanting to be someone I am not. When I was younger and wanting to get in to the clubs or date certain boys, I'd lie and say I was older. Being a basically good kid, that was rare. More often I'd say I was younger. As an overachieving child, one of the most frequent comments I'd get was, "Wow, you've sure done a lot for your age!" or "It's amazing to see someone so young already have accomplished so much." I loved praise. I ate it up. I'd do anything to get it again.

The problem with all child prodigies however is that we grow up. What was remarkable at 12 is normal at 20 and old hat by 30. For a while, in my 20's, I lied about my age simply to buy myself more time to fulfill everyone's expectations of me. I was afraid to grow older and not be able to keep pace with the impossible standard I'd already set for myself. Never in my life did I get any grade less than an A. A bachelor's degree at 19, a Master's degree at 21, an Associate Professorship upon graduation - what was next? (Spoiler alert: an ulcer.) If I didn't get a Nobel Prize by 45 would my expiration date be up and I'd self destruct? And so, despite everything I had "accomplished," my 20s were a turmoil of insecurity, despair and self-flagellation (enter stage right: eating disorder). Nothing I did was ever good enough.

It took me until I was 30 to realize that nothing anyone does is ever enough. Not me, not you, not even Dakota Fanning. That's the problem with measuring your worth by your accomplishments. And, overage boyfriends aside, that was the problem with lying about my age. Until I decided I that I could be worthwhile just because I'm me, I could never be comfortable with my age.

I'm not totally there yet - I still wish I were thinner, smarter, funnier and a better dancer - but when the waiter at the restaurant last night incorrectly guessed my age to be younger (tip, much?) I quickly corrected him. I'm 31. And yes Allison, I'm sure.

So, have you ever lied about your age? Why? Anyone else get caught in the lie? What has helped you to be proud of who you are now?

The Winner of the $60 Gift Card Is...

2009-06-28T18:30:00.000-05:00

aboyn3girls!

Not only did they answer my questions, but I also got a free parenting tip (that I don't know if I'm brave enough to use): "We try to always eat on nice stoneware/china, yep, even the kids. It causes them to behave better and all of us to feel a little more proper at the dinner table. When I break out the paper plates, messes and poor dinner behavior ensue. Oh, and FYI, buy an extra set or 2 of your dinnerware when it's on sale, then there's no problem when a dish is broke hear and there."

E-mail me and I'll put you in touch with the nice folks from Accent Furniture Direct.

PS> Thanks to everyone who actually went out and hugged a random person. Your comments and e-mails had me grinning for days!

The Furor Over Frankenfoods - Hype or Legitimate Horror?

2009-06-25T20:34:00.006-05:00

Do you like scary movies? Chalk it up to a bad experience with The Changeling (not the Angelina Jolie version but the really old 80's one) or just an overactive imagination but I normally stay as far away from the scary stuff as possible. The other night however, I found myself parked in front of my computer glued to the scariest movie I've seen in the past decade. It had all the makings of a horror flick: wickedly powerful bad guys, gruesome deaths, a citizenry unaware of the disaster just around the corner and just a handful of helpless good guys standing between us and them. The movie that's been haunting my dreams? The Future of Food.

I know, it sounds like one of those 1950's film reels that they used to punish us in elementary school on rainy days and yet I'm telling you this was seriously frightening stuff. It was all about what "GM" - genetically modified - foods are doing to humanity and our critical food supply. If this subject interests you, I certainly recommend watching the whole documentary - you can even see it for free on Hulu - but I'm warning you: you will never look at your food the same way again.

Which Worry is the Most Worrisome?
Anyone who knows me knows that few things cause me more consistent grief than food. I'm worried about when to eat and when to not eat and how to eat and what to eat and what to not eat and so on until I became full-on look-at-the-crazy-lady-on-TV-ma sick. Strangely, in all of my worrying about food it had never before occurred to me to spend much energy worrying about the genetics of my food.

As a neurotic pregnant woman, my current obsession has been with organic vs. local food. Everyone from Jillian Michaels on down says that pesticides and food additives wreck your metabolism and harm your general health. The other thing everyone tells you to do is to eat locally - it saves the environment and supports local farmers. The problem, of course, is that it's hard to do both exclusively as one generally precludes the other.

The organic-local debate was wiped clean from mind though after hearing what scientists are saying about all of our genetically modified foods. Who cares if there is pesticides on the outside of your peach if the very genes that make it up are dooming you personally and society as a whole?

But is all the furor over frankenfoods legitimate or just hysteria? Basically what we're talking about are plants that have been altered at the genetic level to provide some benefit, i.e. drought tolerance, higher crop yeilds, resistance to pests and so forth. The potential benefits are immense - you may have heard of the "miracle" rice that is touted as Africa's salvation or the GM wheat that sparked the green revolution in the 1950's and saved millions from starvation. The problem however, is that nature didn't create the plants that way and even though we think we are making them better, humans are notoriously short-sighted when it comes to "better" food. For example, the negative effects of the Green Revolution are just beginning to emerge in hard-hit areas like India. GM foods also introduce other signficant economic problems such as patent rights for seeds and all the attendant problems that come with single-source farming.

The Research
Unsurprisingly most of the research into GM foods has been conducted by the massive food conglomerates, such as Monsanto and Cargill, that are most heavily invested in them. The FDA and the WHO (World Health Organization) have also done some studies. The report states: "Foodstuffs made of genetically modified crops that are currently available (mainly maize, soybean, and oilseed rape) have been judged safe to eat, and the methods used to test them have been deemed appropriate." One author cautions, "However, the lack of evidence of negative effects does not mean that new genetically modified foods are without risk."

On the other side, there is a lot of anecdotal evidence and cautions from scientists about the potential risks of these foods. The movie summarizes these quite well.

Conclusion
The problem with worrying about GM food is that right now it is so prevalent in our food supply, mostly in the form of GM corn and soy, that it would be nearly impossible to avoid it completely. Also, while a few places such as the European Union have introduced legislation requiring labeling of GM foods, most places including America do not. Buying organic doesn't mean it wasn't genetically modified or engineered. Even going so far as to buy your own seeds, plant them and grow your own food won't necessarily help because most conventional seeds come from the same few seed banks which use GM seeds. And even if you were to splurge on heirloom seeds, chances are yours would get cross-contaminated with the GM seeds that your neighbors are using.

You'd think that the inevitability of it all would give me a free pass to stop worrying about it but somehow it makes it weigh heavier on my mind. Which is where you guys come in: I'm known for being neurotic. Talk me down off the ledge people - does it matter to you if your food is genetically modified? Do you take any steps to avoid it? Anyone else watch The Changeling as a kid and get totally freaked out??

What's In Your Water Bottle?

2009-06-24T22:19:00.007-05:00

I got an interesting e-mail about a week ago from "Tammy". She started off good, telling me how funny I am and how much she loves my blog (flattery will get you everywhere with me) but then took a sharp turn off into Marketing LaLa land. You might recognize this place - land of fabled 6' 120 lb supermodels who eat cheeseburgers instead of salads & drink vodka at 9 am in the pool while the rest of us are working & then walk their dogs if they get to feeling a little puffy. If there are any children present, and there rarely are which is in itself odd considering how much simulated sex is going on, they are motionless mannequins wearing coordinating stainless outfits (top H&M $16.99, skirt Prada Jr. $1,345.99) ignored by a person who looks too young to actually be their parent. Sound familiar? Yeah. We'd all like to live there.

And according to Tammy, Propel Fitness Water might just be your one-way ticket to Shangri-La. To be fair to Tammy, whom I have never met and for all I know is a perfectly lovely gal that shares my taste in too-bright purses and obscenely high-heeled shoes, she was not that heavy handed. Her segue was actually quite good: "With me, I try not to deprive myself of the occasional treat - it's all about portion control and reading the nutrition labels carefully. That said, I wanted to share with you and your community some interesting information regarding the range of calories found in many vitamin enhanced waters." See? Straight from my "You're An Idiot" Diet post to Propel. Bravo.

I totally agree with her thus far. I read nutrition labels like they're The Da Vinci code of nutrition. And I also know some interesting information about calories in water: I don't like them. Water should not have calories. If it has calories then it is officially not water.

Tammy continues on to extol the virtues of low-cal Propel and to "shock" me with how many calories Vitamin Water has. Here's my shocker Tammy - I take my water straight up, on the rocks. Occasionally, if I'm feeling Carmen Miranda-ish, I'll whip a lime out of my hat and magically slice it before it drops into my glass.

Which isn't to say that I don't enjoy an occasional sugared-up beverage. I adore a virgin margarita (it's a lime thing) or an Italian soda. But the difference is that a) these drinks are an indulgence and b) they all contain actual sugar rather than some artificial sweetener or the granddaddy evil of fat-kids-with-no-heads-in-cnn-pictures - high fructose corn syrup.

Rad! Oh, wait. What?!?

Sweeteners
I love sweet stuff. A good hit of jelly beans or Ben & Jerry's can make a warm breeze blow even when there's two feet of snow. But I do not like man-made sweet stuff. I think that they play with our minds and mess with our innards until we don't properly know when we're sated and we're about to become the next headless-fat-person-in-a-picture. (Seriously, why CNN? It's dehumanizing. Stop it.)

So I kindly wrote back to Tammy and asked her if the magic to keeping Propel so light in calories and yet so "full of flavor" is an artificial sweetener. She e-mailed me the nutrition label. It would be Splenda. Splenda gives me headaches. According to some people, Splenda might also be the end of the free world. Your call.

At any rate, artificial sweeteners do not help you lose weight. If you just like the zingy aftertaste of aspartame then feel free to stick with your Diet Coke but if you drink it (or eat practically any "light" product) to help your waistline, you may be doing yourself more harm than good.

Fitness Water
Aside from the sweetener problem, I take issue with something being labeled a "fitness water." Fitness water is plain H20. I do understand that in some cases it is necessary and even performance enhancing to take in a simple carb drink/gu/gel/etc. during exercise. Long distance runners mainline the stuff. And it helps. But Splenda isn't a simple carb. It's not even found in nature. Marketers of these products (not just Propel but all the "fitness" drinks) lose me when they try to sell it as a need, rather than a want. With the exception of a long endurance workout or race, you never need anything other than water.

I get that people think water tastes plain. We like our fruity flavors. So just use fruit. Or if you must, use sugar. But don't tell me my body needs any of that stuff. Even for my post-workout snack, I'd rather eat whole foods than any specially formulated drink.

How You Lost Out on Free Stuff
(although you can still enter this giveaway until Sunday!)
Tammy then concluded by asking me to advertise her product on my site. She even dangled the possibility of freebies - powder packets all around! (No, don't snort it! Drink it!) But I can't endorse it. (Although I just did give them some free publicity - you're welcome Tammy! Call me if you want to go shoe shopping.)

I don't like it. I don't think it is good for me. I don't think it will help my fitness goals.

But that's my rant. I want to know what's in your sports bottle. Besides mold - really, you should wash that thing every once in a while. Do you guys swear by any sports drink? Do you flavor your water at all? Are you a bottled guy/gal or does tap water reign supreme? (Personally, my fave is the drugged out tap water. There's one way to cut down on medical costs!) Because I actually am deeply curious as to what you drink when you work out, I've provided you with a poll (feel free to use the comments to explain yourself):

poll by twiigs.com

Can Changing Your Dishes Change How You Eat? (Giveaway Post!)

2009-06-23T20:30:00.001-05:00

"Country Blue" melamine flatware is what I grew up eating off of. You will excuse my parents for their apparent lack of taste - it was the '80s so both melamine and country blue were omnipresent and with three little kids they were just being practical. Eventually they moved on and my mother purchased a set of beautiful white and red stonewear that looks much better in the family holiday dinner pics. The problem? I haven't moved on. That's right, I am eating off the same dishes today that I did as kid. Those little blue plates, now slightly chipped with some discoloration, have moved with me to college, off to my first job, when I got married and up to this very day. In fact, right now I have a blue salad plate sitting right next to my elbow with the remains of my muy delicioso lunch (thanks to Gym Buddy Krista!) on it.

Nice Flatwear = A Flat Stomach?
One of the diet tips you will frequently read is to make everyday eating a special occassion. Buy nice dishes that you set on a clean table with real napkins and no distractions, so the logic goes, and you will automatically slow down and savor your food more. To further amp up your dining experience and minimize overeating, you can add flowers or eat outside or any other number of things to prettify your eating environment. And some studies - like the infamous blue plate study - support this reasoning. Although I daresay you don't need researchers to tell you that eating in a clean, beautiful setting is preferrable to sitting in front of a cramped, cluttered computer desk (ahem).

According to this, the only thing my dinnerware has going for it is that my plates are blue and small (weirdly, everyone in our house eats off of child-sized dishes - even my husband!). It might be time for me to grow up and buy some actual dishes. Enter Accent Furniture Direct. When they first e-mailed me, I was confused about what home decor had to do with health and fitness. That is until I saw their supercute and funky NotNeutral line (which is also very affordable, I might add). Seriously, how cool would you feel eating off that plate (above) with a city map of London on it?

Although this set was my personal favorite. Who could eat a Little Debbie craptastic brownie off of a Zentastic plate like one of these?

Another favorite item are these cloth napkins. I recently switched my family from paper to cloth napkins in an effort to be more green and save some cash. While we - I live in toddler central remember? - use cheap white washcloths, these would be so much more fun:

Who wouldn't eat more salad if you had these Tim Burton-eque salad bowls?

And drinking all your glasses of water just got easier with these babies. (Makes you want to add a slice of lemon and mint sprig, no?)

This one has nothing to do with anything except that I just love it:

The Giveaway
Convinced? You can win one $60 gift certificate to Accent Furniture Direct by leaving me a comment below. You have three chances to win:

1. Do you think your enivronment impacts what and how you eat? Tell me about it!
2. Go to Accent Furniture Direct's page and tell me the name of one item you'd like to buy if you won.
3. Go hug a random person (i.e. someone who does not live under the same roof as you) and give them a compliment then tell me who it was and how they reacted! (This last item is just for my own entertainment but hey a girl's gotta have fun, right?)

Details: The company only ships to the U.S. and Canada so if you are from another country and win, you can sob quietly in your pillow or you can give it to a friend or relative.

Weight Gain in Pregnancy: What's Normal and What's Just Celebrities

2009-06-22T20:30:00.001-05:00

It's official: I am half way done with my pregnancy! With 20 weeks under my metaphorical belt - like I could get an actual belt on these days - and perhaps less to go if the universe loves me, I feel pretty excited about this milestone. As I'm looking obviously pregnant now, there are many upsides - I'm starting to look cute in maternity clothes, hopefully we'll find out the gender soon (my ultrasound is on the 30th) and I get to park in the mother-to-be parking spots without feeling guilty. (Side note: pregnant women do not need special parking spots, really. You know who does? New moms. The baby is relatively easy to carry as long as it's tucked in your abdomen but add colic, a car seat, a diaper bag and older siblings and you need valet parking just to go to the grocery store. Seriously.)

Gym Buddy Sunny & I at the most recent Hip Hop Hustle YouTube taping! Love my sparkly Cons? Yeah, me too.

But the baby bump has one serious downside: everyone feels they need to comment on it. Now, normally I don't mind an affectionate pat, even from a stranger, or a "look at you!" but this conversation was a bit much:

Lady #1: Oh, look at your tummy! It's HUGE! I can't believe how big you've gotten! And almost overnight too!

Lady #2: No, no, she's not huge - she's itty bitty. I can barely see her little bump!

Lady #1: Are you serious? Look at her! It sticks out like a mile!

Lady #2: What? She's tiny! I was twice as big as she was when I was pregnant.

Lady #1: Not me! I wore my regular jeans right up until delivery - just had to ride 'em low.

They had this conversation in front of me. The truth is that I'm exactly normal for 20 weeks along. My fundus - that's the supercool name for the top of your uterus (For a fun party trick, walk up to someone and say, "Wanna see my fundus?" You may get slapped or they may buy you drinks for the rest of the night - that's where the fun comes in!) - measures right on for the baby's gestation. So I'm actually not big nor am I small. I'm just a normal pregnant girl.

This conversation though is a perfect example of how skewed our society's perceptions have become when it comes to pregnancy. Normally I blame celebrities with their ridiculous 3-week post-partum slim downs and crazy fish diets but today I'm actually going to agree with them. It turns out that even celebrities with perfect bodies are not immune from this group madness.

Heidi Klum, the woman who makes pregnancy look downright chic, was recently quoted as saying - unapologetically! - “I’m bigger than I should be, but I always gain 40-45 pounds, so I still have a ways to go.” (For those of you who don't keep track of all things uterine, doctors recommend an average woman gain 5-25 pounds.) This made me want to run up and kiss Heidi right on her "big" bump - the bump which will magically disappear 4 weeks post-partum despite it being her fourth kid but I'll be depressed over that one later- and cheer, "Right on, sister! Me too!" Even supermodels gain weight!

Jenna Jameson, now more famous for birthing twins than for her extensive porn career, was recently targeted by TMZ for having "wide hips." This may be the first time in my life I've ever found myself in the same camp as Jenna Jameson - especially when it comes to feminist issues - but girlfriend's got a good point! And, for the record, tiny hips. Here's her surprisingly rational response:

"I was pretty heated about the thought of this random chick saying I looked WIDE… Seriously… this is the ultimate example of girl on girl HATING. I mean, I had twins 4 months ago!!!! Its crazy to me that a fellow woman would feel the need to bash my hips… when most women would relate to the fact that I spent the past year building two perfect little humans. Does the circumference of my hips really matter? Should that even be discussed? It truly makes me sick to my stomach that this woman felt the need to pick my body apart when just barely 18 months ago TMZ was BASHING me for being TOO skinny! This is why women have such massive body issues… I have worked very hard to be healthy… and that is all that matters, not the size of my booty!"

As Jenna demonstrates, the public judgement with pregnancy weight gain continues on with even more fervor to post-baby weight loss. I can't tell you how many times I've already been asked how fast I "plan" on losing the baby weight. (Any parent will tell you that babies laugh - and then spit up - in the face of any so-called plans.) All I can say is that in the past I have lost most of the weight within about six months but those last 10 or so pounds will not budge until I wean the little nipper. I know what they say about breast-feeding melting the pounds away but it just isn't true for me. My body seems to think it needs to store the extra milk in my thighs and hips. And so be it. I have very healthy kids so it would seem my body knows what it is doing.

While not as hot a topic as weight gain, pre- and post-natal exercise also garners a lot of attention. Thanks to the wonder of the second trimester, I am feeling pretty energetic and back to all my workouts full force - albeit with some modifications. No more bow pose or reclining ab work for me! This hiatus in the woes of pregnancy will be relatively brief though as I know from experience that the third trimester will knock me right back down on my ample butt.

A recent study addresses a common myth of pre- and especially post-natal exercise: that intense, vigorous exercise is the best thing to take off extra weight. It turns out that, "Exercise is important when people are overweight, but after pregnancy, a lot of exercise does not necessarily help a great deal. The Institute summarised the research evidence about the best ways to lose weight after childbirth. The evidence shows that a balanced diet helps – with or without extra exercise. Very strenuous exercise programmes soon after childbirth did not lead to extra weight loss. This means that women do not need to have a bad conscience if they take it easy in the busy weeks after giving birth."

So there you have it - from the mouths of celebrities and researchers - you have permission to take it easy, be kind to yourself and, most importantly, focus on growing and caring for a healthy, happy baby!

Wow, is my bathroom mirror ever dirty!

The Problem With Personal Blogging

2009-06-21T20:57:00.003-05:00

I am not prone to cursing but this weekend this blog had me all up in 4-letter arms. I sometimes forget that even though I'm surrounded by my warm, cozy, supportive group of about 30 or so regular commenters that tens of thousands of other people read this site. Some of them very strange people indeed. You know what? I don't mind the strange ones. I certainly don't mind people telling me I'm wrong. I love a debate. But someone telling me I should be murdered? I mind.

And it's not just for myself that I am concerned but for anyone that reads the comments on here in a fragile state of mind.

I'm getting ahead of myself. Most of you probably noticed nothing this weekend other than that the lead post had a tasty pic of Tom Sellick's chest hair in edible form - what's not to love? The only way you might have noticed something amiss was if you happened to subscribe to the comments on one of my posts about my sexual assault. The problem came because I put my post on Lady Gaga and the Glamorous Rape up on Huffington Post (where I also blog). That post turned out to be way more popular than I had anticipated and several other sites picked it up. Readers from those sites found their way here and... this weekend happened.

These posts have long been a source of controversy on this site. It's been raised - politely - in the comments before that my sexual assault has nothing to do with health or fitness and so people question why I write about something so deeply personal. I write about it for the same reason I write about my eating disorder and my anxiety and my daughter who died - because it is a part of me. My sexual assault was a major factor in getting me into physical fitness, especially in regards to kickboxing and karate. But it has also infiltrated my soul even more deeply, affecting issues like my body image and my self esteem and my willingness to trust people to have physical power over me, all of which actually do tie in to health and fitness. For me, letting you guys in on the messy parts of my brain is critical to explaining what I do and why I react the way I do. Besides, opening myself up to other people has really shown me how much of this life is about shared experiences and I have learned so much - and healed so much - because of your help.

I knew when I first wrote about sexual assault that it would make some people squeamish. Some people are so uncomfortable with this topic that they have requested me to e-mail them a warning before I post one (which I do). And then others think I'm making a mountain out of a molehill and think I should just be grateful that nothing worse happened to me (which I am). Some even took it to mean I was impugning men as a gender (which I am not). And yet the reason I continue to talk about rape and sexual assault is because I believe that the only way to overcome these types of dark crimes is to open them up to the light. It's my choice to do this. It's my blog.

Blogging at the Huffington Post has mostly inured me to the kinds of hateful personal attacks people say on the Internet and yet some people still found a way to get under my skin. Not that I'm particularly fond of letting them know that. I questioned whether or not to address this at all - didn't want to give them any more power - except that I worried about other people, other survivors (from whom I get many, many e-mails), reading those same comments and feeling attacked themselves or triggered or hurt. This kind of shaming is exactly what perpetuates the culture of silence that surrounds and facilitates sex crimes.

To those of my readers who have been hurt in this way, you have all my empathy. This is not normally a problem on this blog. In fact, this is the first time in almost two years of blogging that I have had to delete comments for reasons other than blatant advertising (like those stupid diet pills ads that occasionally show up). I'm convinced that my readers here are generally the greatest people on the planet and I've had such good experiences with many of you via this site & e-mail. I'm grateful to all of you who support me and love me, even when you don't agree with me.

But I want you to know that I will not shut up about this. I'm not perfect; I am so very fallible. On this subject I've been angry and ambivalent, depressed and regretful. But I learned a long time ago that being quiet when someone threatens to kill you doesn't work. This time I'm screaming.

Ruining Perfectly Good Food

2009-06-18T20:30:00.001-05:00

Nothing says yummy like Tom Selleck's chest hair!

Coffee cake is one of life's nicest niceties. Not only does it have crunchy brown sugar streusel layered with moist cake and topped with icing but it also evokes images of tea parties and twee hats and gloves and dresses with nipped-in waists and Peter-Pan collars. Fun. So when Gym Buddy Lisseth waxed rhapsodic about the best coffee cake ever, which she had made the night before and eaten for breakfast this morning, you will understand why my mouth began to water.

The Gym Buddies and I have an interesting post-workout tradition. After we get good and sweaty together and bounce some iron around (and grunt and scratch ourselves), we sit on the stretching mats... and talk about food. No matter how hard we try, every post-workout conversation eventually comes back to food. What new restaurant Krista tried, the new recipe Megan found, the number of chicken wings Allison can eat in one sitting (her record thus far - with husband - 120. Girlfriend is having a serious pregnancy craving!) - it's all fair game. By the end, each of us is drooling, starving and usually armed with a resolution to cook something when we get home.

This day it was coffee cake, courtesy of Lisseth. While I didn't have her recipe, I do have a perfectly wonderful Betty Crocker cookbook that has served me well many a time and so I hauled that out. Turning the oven on to preheat, I checked to make sure I had all the ingredients. For something so tasty, coffee cake is amazingly simple. And also amazingly bad for you! How have I never known what is in coffee cake?! My heart pounded a little faster as I looked at the white flour, oil, butter, salt and all that sugar. I knew I couldn't make it. What would be the point of that grueling workout I just finished if I were to eat half a coffee cake afterward?

Sighing, I started to put the book away. But then a thought came to my mind - I could healthify it! Happily, I got out my mixer and bowl and set about substituting every ingredient. I used whole wheat flour for the white flour, replaced the fat with a banana, the sugar with applesauce and so forth. Excitedly I poured the batter into a casserole dish (like I own a bundt pan - please, you're talking to the girl who only owns one grown-up sharp knife). The kitchen filled with yummy smells and 60 minutes later I had... banana bread. And not even good banana bread! Healthified banana bread. That was most definitely not what I was craving. In fact it was so nasty that it sat on our kitchen counter for a week until my husband finally threw it away.

This is not the first time this has happened. In fact, you could say I have a reputation for ruining perfectly good food. The ingredients all start out fine but in the process of trying to healthify the recipe, I usually ruin it. It's gotten to the point where my cooking has become a punchline among our friends. ("We're picking up the rocks to landscape our yard this weekend." "Oh, so you got invited to dinner at Charlotte's too?" Ha ha ha.)

The problem stems from having my cake and wanting to eat it too. Some healthy living ascetics can give up sugar, fat and every other vice with nary a backward glance (I'm looking at you, Dr. J!). But for me a life without brownies is just too depressing to contemplate. My compromise is to make substitutions.

There is also the other end of the spectrum: the just-eat-the-cake-already people like Bethenney Frankel and all the Intuitive Eaters. If you want coffee cake, the reasoning goes, eat a little of the best coffee cake you can find, don't deprive yourself and you'll be sated. However, I have a rather addictive personality or perhaps my tastebuds are just slow to catch on but if I eat only three bites of a really yummy dessert I'm going to feel deprived. I will want more than three bites and telling me to stop there will only make me want to eat more. So we're back to the substitutions.

Lest you think I'm brilliant - I hate to disillusion you but really you should know better by now - I am not the first person to come up with this idea. There are whole books and websites dedicated to making healthy, yummy food. They also happen to be run by people who are much better cooks than I am. Now the key for me is to hone my mad kitch skillz to the point that I don't wreck their recipes. It might also help if I got some real cooking equipment.

What's your food philosophy: have a little bit of what you really crave or focus on healthifying the decadent recipes? Any other chronic food ruiners in the house? Anyone else still cooking with the utensils they got at the thrift store in college?

What Not To Wear: Gym Edition

2009-06-17T20:30:00.000-05:00

A woman in step class was wearing a black lace bra. Not underneath anything, as bras are generally meant to be worn. Not even on top of something, Madonna-style (is it just me or is she coming up an awful lot on here lately??) which quite truthfully would have been preferable. Nope, it was black bike shorts (Spanx?), a large expanse of untoned pasty flesh and then black lace, delicate straps and underwire. In the gym.

I'm Too Sexy For My Shirt
It was as if she had rushed to the gym, forgetting she wasn't wearing a top. Except that the aerobics room is flanked with mirrors so it's not like it was something she could miss. Or perhaps she was on her way somewhere else and saw the gym and thought "I really ought to take a step class today. Drat, forgot my clothes! Oh well, I'll just strip down to my skivvies and no one will be the wiser." I really wanted to ask her what the deal was. Or offer her pasties. But that would have been rude. So instead I'm blogging about it to an Internet full of strangers. Because that's not rude.

I'm Too Sexy For My Pants
All of this reminded me of another tragic episode of Gym Fashion that I witnessed several months ago: an older fellow in a red polo shirt, black knee socks, dress shoes and... tighty whities. Riding the recumbent bike. He definitely wasn't demented as he was carrying on a very loud conversation with the woman next to him who, to her credit, seemed completely unaffected. He was also speaking with a thick accent that made me wonder if perhaps he was from one of those countries where everyone strips down to go hang out at the bath house together and it's all very social and non-sexual and what's wrong with you American prudes anyhow.

And yet. Tighty whities. At least go with boxer shorts next time.

Proper Gym Attire
I'm not one of those people that dresses up to go to the gym. No makeup, bedhead and a cotton tank top with pants (if it's winter, like it is here nine months out of the year) or shorts (if I'm on vacation somewhere warm or if I'm running outside and need to use my white legs in lieu of reflective gear). You remember this:

So it's not like I expect other people to be Gym Tyme Barbie or anything. But really there are a few rules one should follow.
Charlotte's Rules For Dressing Yourself
(because your mother just can't drive that far every day so stop asking already)

1. No visible underwear. I am not talking about sports bras in this rule but rather actual brassieres (hee - whens the last time you said that word?). Most women know the difference and if you are one of those who are confused, do 10 jumping jacks and if the girls bounce like water balloons in socks then you've got the wrong kind. The keys to remember here are support and nipple coverage. This rule also includes thong straps. I heart that you heart thongs but I don't need to see the actual heart on the back triangle.

2. Some people might read the previous rule and think they should wear no underwear to the gym. This would be false. Please wear appropriate underwear. I will never forget the day when I witnessed a grandpa in old-skool shorty shorts lift up his leg to stretch. I learned things no middle schooler should ever have to know unless they want to go into nursing or professional waxing when they grow up. And women? The wrong pants + no undies = camel toe. Just do a mirror check, is all I'm saying.

3. No clothing with inappropriate words or words in inappropriate places like, say, your butt crack. I know, I know, freedom of speech and all that. But if I crash into a wall because I'm concentrating so hard on reading the 10 lines of text on your shirt (that's backwards because I'm staring at you in the mirror) that explain your world view on how they should open baby seal clubbing to everyone and not just those lucky park rangers, then I'm totally blaming you.

4. Wear shoes you can actually work out in. This means no flip-flops, stilettos, cowboy boots, slippers, or construction boots. Moon boots? If you have the chutzpah to pull those off then you have my permission to work it, girl.

5. No hammer pants, men.

6. No excess bling. Unless you're Mr. T. Or can at least rock a mohawk like him. This includes ladies.

7. Skip the scent. Contrary to what your hygeine-challenged grandmother or French exchange student told you, wearing copious amounts of cologne or perfume will not cover up the smell of your body odor. In fact in will permeate the room until it strangles everyone within a 100-foot radius of you. I'd rather smell your sweat than your perfume any day of the week. PS> This also goes for pot. Yes we can smell it. And no it's not strong enough to give us a contact high so cut it out.

You Wouldn't Think We'd Have To Say This Stuff
And yet... lace bra. Tighty whities. Shirtless man wearing a heart rate monitor that I swore was a bandeau bikini top for about 5 laps until he turned around. Some people need our help.

What's the most egregious Gym Fashion sin you've ever seen? And what's your standard gym uniform? Got a pet peeve? I gotta know these things!

Free Day!

2009-06-16T20:30:00.001-05:00

Well, it finally happened - I decided to take a day off! I'm up to my ears in SAT essays, we're traveling and for the love of little green apples, I'm tired. I hereby officially give you a pass to scratch one item off YOUR to-do list, guilt-free! Enjoy your day!

The Glamorous Rape

2009-06-15T21:14:00.002-05:00

Rope burns circled her wrists, her fingernails were bloody and torn and she had a deep purple bruise on one forearm that inappropriately made me think of hoagie sandwiches, such was its size and shape. But what was most haunting were her eyes. They were not bright with tears, nor flashing with anger, nor did they even show animal fear - they were just still. And dead. Those dead eyes would haunt me for months afterward.

I was a new "peer counselor," an internship I did my junior year of college to fulfill the requirement for my Psychology degree, and even though I had been trained in dealing with suicide threats, eating disorders, depression and even rape, I was not prepared for what happened at that frat house that winter night. Having got the call after the police had untied her from the bed, I missed the most horrific part of her gang rape but once her statement was filed they handed her unceremoniously over to me. My job was merely to be there. Be there with her while they did the rape kit - surprisingly not as neat and orderly as one might think after hearing about them on T.V. (for one thing, there is no actual "kit"). Be there while she peed in a cup to check for evidence of roofies. Be there while she tried to call her mom in another state only to get no answer at one o'clock in the morning. Be there while they gave her antibiotics, a million different shots and then the morning after pill (pills actually, there were two of them). And then to just be there while she suffered for hours through the effects of the benignly misnamed pill.

I sat with her all night as she shook and sweated and threw up. We didn't talk much. At last, desperate to say something, say anything to break the quiet that screamed in my head, I pointed at the oddly shaped bruise on her arm. I'd never seen a bruise that looked that awful. "How did that happen?"

Staring back at me with those dead eyes she answered shakily, "I don't know." And then burst into hysterical tears. As did I. Even though this was a couple of years before my own sexual assault, I cried too. There was no other response.

After she finally fell asleep in the wee hours of the morning, I became aware of a shadow in the doorway. I recognized the boy. He was from the frat house. Standing quickly, I pushed him out of the room. "Are you crazy?" was all I could think to say.

He looked drunk still. "I just... wanted to see if she was okay."

The gall. I couldn't process it. "You guys almost killed her."

"It wasn't supposed to go down like that. I didn't think..."

"Leave," I demanded, not willing to be party to whatever rationalizations his inebriated brain was going to manufacture. For a split second, his eyes flashed and I saw anger. I thought he might push past me to get to her. Or perhaps even hit me. "Now. Or I'll call the police," I added with confidence I didn't have.

"F*** you," he muttered at last, dismissing me with a wave. As he stumbled down the hallway he added over his shoulder, "Tell her to give me a call."

The Glamorous Rape
I tell you this story to show you exactly how unglamorous rape is. Whether it is a tied-to-the-bed knock-her-unconscious atrocity like the one just detailed or merely a silent, stealthy minimally violent assault like mine, rape is vicious, cruel, painful and damaging.

I shouldn't have to explain this to you.

And yet I feel compelled to because thanks to examples ranging from the mostly innocuous Edward "Do I kiss you or kill you?" Cullen in Twilight, to the twisted media coverage of the Chris Brown-Rihanna debacle to the galling rape-fantasty video game genre, the media is selling us an image of rape and domestic violence as being artistic, dramatic, the result of misguided love and - most terrifying - wanted.

The latest incarnation of this is Lady Gaga's new art flick/music video for her single "Paparazzi." (I have no desire to post it here but if you're curious, YouTube has the full vid.) In this slickly designed and beautifully executed film short - the costumes! the scenery! the sets! the glorious backup dancers!! - Lady Gaga (playing herself, per her usual) is used and abused by her lover who eventually throws her over a balcony. The fall doesn't kill her but rather maims her. So far, so much another tragic romance but Lady G then uses this opportunity to break out the bedazzled neck brace, gold encrusted crutches and - most fabulously - a Louis Vitton wheelchair with Chanel embellished wheels. Her fame skyrockets as the sympathetic public lauds her escape with their money. Interspersed between shots are quick flashes of women not as lucky as Lady Gaga - women with bullet holes in their foreheads or blood trickling out of their mouths, all obviously dead. In the end, not only does she turn the tables on her model man, but she kills him, an ending that I'm guessing is supposed to make us feel that justice has been served.

And yet I found the whole thing so repulsive I couldn't even finish watching the video despite "Paparrazi" being my favorite song of hers and despite having seen her in concert and loved it. I had to read about the ending on a spoiler site. Sure some will say it is an overwrought satire or mere frothy fun meant to be empowering if anything but the images of dead women - only young, beautiful ones of course - used in such a manner strikes me as well, commercial. It has also been suggested that being a woman, Lady Gaga be given a pass. Of course this would be offensive if a man made it, the reasoning goes, but because a woman did it it shows that she's facing one of female kind's greatest fears and vulnerabilities. I say she's capitalizing on them.

I've been accused in the past of being overly sensitive to these issues because of my own history but in a country where 1 in 4 women will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime and where Jamie Leigh Jones has to sue for the right to sue the men who raped her so badly that she's permanently scarred - shouldn't we all be overly sensitive to these issues? Or at the very least, not treat rape like a party trick that one bounds back from in guilded couture?

5 Health & Fitness Trends I Wish Would Die Already

2009-06-14T21:39:00.006-05:00

I'm kinda thinking he likes it...

I'm going to be straight with you: I've been grading SAT essays until midnight every night for the past week. Spending that much time with the profundities of high schoolers has made me crabby and bitter. I'm thisclose to grabbing the next teenager I see and screaming, "SURELY YOU CAN COME UP WITH BETTER SUBJECT MATTER THAN THE KARDASHIANS FOR YOUR COLLEGE ENTRANCE EXAMS!!!" You'd be amazed at how often reality TV stars come up on this test. Although I shouldn't complain; at least it saves me from the 500 nearly identical essays on The Scarlet Letter.

Anyhow, all this bitterness (read: exhaustion) has spilled over into my everyday pursuits and consequently every health & fitness article I've read in the past week has crawled under my skin and irritated me like so many baby spiders waiting to be born by scratching my arm with a fork. (What? You never heard that urban legend?!) Anyone else ever notice how health & fitness mags seem to recycle the same 5 stories over and over again? Yeah.

5 Fitness Trends I Wish Would Die Already
1. Superfoods. Avocados, acai berries, fish - hey, do you read the stickers on your bananas? - everything is a "superfood" these days. The funny thing is that most often they are the simplest foods we have. Fruits, veggies, seeds and other natural goodies have finally gotten the scientific stamp of approval and boy those scientists are letting us know. I like to feel good about what I eat as much as the next health nut but I object to the word "superfood." I think we all pretty much know that if it comes out of the ground it's good and if it comes out of a box, then it's not as good - enough with the false distinctions and hyperbole already. When my banana grows a cape and rescues my toddler from a speeding bullet, then you can slap a sticker on it and call it super.

2. Treadmill workouts. Why is it that every single cardio workout listed in a magazine is on the treadmill? First, it is the world's most boring piece of fitness equipment ever. Yes, I use one but only when I have no other options and certainly not every day. No wonder people think they don't like to workout. Second, it is the world's simplest piece of fitness equipment. You can change the speed and you can change the incline. On really fancy ones you can make it run backwards. Everything else like preprogrammed "fat burning" workouts are just changeups of the speed and incline. Does anyone really do those workouts that say "Jog 1 minute at speed 5. Run 1 minute at speed 6, incline 2. Repeat 8 times."? Try intramural soccer or play co-ed dodgeball - there's intervals for you and you'll be having so much fun that you won't even worry about what your calorie burn is!

3. The "uniform." In a world with Nike Dance Line, Athleta, Puma and Richard Simmons, you'd think fitness models would get to wear something besides a teeny-tiny cami in a bright color with spandex booty shorts in an equally bright yet contrasting color. (Yeah, yeah, I read that one article that one time about running skirts too.) There is a whole world of fun workout stuff out there! Bring on the maternity gear! The tennis dresses! The ironic t-shirts!! And somebody please please bring back sweatbands. I'm serious on this one. They're so functional! And my face gets so sweaty! My other pet peeve is the ubiquity of the Perfect Ponytail. It's always the same Pony in the same spot on the back of the model's head. Even when she is demonstrating Pilates techniques thereby making the rest of us feel really sorry for her because you can't lay flat on your back if you have a ponytail sticking straight out of your head. What I wouldn't pay to see a model with a high side pony a la Deb on Napolean Dynamite!

4. The "Lose 10 Pounds" Diets. Don't get me wrong on this one - I have gotten many a good recipe from health & fitness articles. What bugs me are those spreads where they plan out every bite you eat for a week (or a month or a lifetime). It's not that they exist - certainly there is a need for that kind of detailed instruction especially when you are first starting out - but it's that they are in every. single. mag. every. single. month. Oh, and they also bug me because the only way anyone would ever lose 10 pounds on them is if they represent a radical change to your current diet. Why waste 20 useable pages every month when you could write about something we haven't heard about a million times - like trapeze workouts or rock climbing or, be still my heart, actual research!

5. The Advertorials. I saved this one for last because I hate nothing more than to get a magazine in the mail only to discover the headline: "Top 100 Fitness Products!" or "We tested 500 products and tell you what's hot and what's not!" or my personal fave, "The Health Products You Can't Live Without!" (Well, I'm not using your product now and last I checked I'm still alive...) It might as well say, "Companies give us a lot of free swag and we pay back the favor by telling you to buy their really expensive stuff with page after page of glossy pictures of things that you don't need, can't afford and aren't as good as we say they are anyhow." Is there anyone out there who has really bought a pair of running shoes because they read in a mag that it was the best for their foot type? Why would you do that when you could go to an actual running store and have an actual person watch your gait and then recommend an actual shoe for you to try on? A close second on my hate list are the "gift lists" that come out for every conceivable holiday. I have never once looked at "25 things your mom will love this mother's day" and seen anything my mom would like for a price I could afford.

Well, okay, then. I've probably alienated about half of you - feel free to rant back at me in the comments - but I must say, I do feel better. Anyone else have a health or fitness trend that they think is way overdone?

Personal Training Giveaway Winner

2009-06-14T20:30:00.000-05:00

Is Delle!
She wrote:
"I don't have anyone to work out with, but if I could work out with a celebrity it would be MERRY!

..why would you want your buddy to kick your butt, when she's willing to give rubs and treats instead! :D"

I agree, Delle, I agree. Belly rubs and treats - not just for cats anymore!

E-mail me your details and I'll hook you up with your prize!

Who is Your Workout Buddy? (Giveaway!)

2009-06-11T07:53:00.003-05:00

Faster than a competitive treadmill runner, bolder than a know-it-all personal trainer, kinder than a back-stabbing Mean Girl: Who are these people who are so wonderful that they sweat rainbow Gatorade and spit sunshine loogies? Why, it's the Gym Buddies!

For those of you reading this via e-mail or a reader, click through to see the video - it's super short and totally worth it. I promise!

This rotating cast of characters begun at my first gym and continuing through to this very day are probably the single most reason I love exercising so much. Everybody needs a Workout Buddy of their very own. Not only are they good for kicking your butt in a workout (sometimes literally) or for an early a.m. phone call if you don't show up but mine have done everything from tucking in a stray bra strap to letting me weep tragically on their shoulder for 2 hours during a "run." They also lend me books, clip magazine articles for me, and bring me jelly beans, not to mention get indignant on my behalf, babysit my kids and - for the most part - laugh with me, not at me, when I embarrass myself in any one of the multitudinous ways that I am wont to do.

I do not tell them enough how grateful I am for their kindness, friendship and, when necessary, tough love. I was reminded of this egregious error today while reading Seabreeze's post about her happy reunion with a long-lost Workout Buddy of her own. While there are certainly times when one needs a nice long solitary run to sort things out or a good heavy weight session with nothing but the sound of your own heavy breathing to interrupt your sets, there are times when most people seek out some kind of social aspect to their exercise. Group fit classes, running groups, neighborhood walking associations, group personal training sessions, boot camps - all fill the need to get your sweat on in the company of people who won't mind it.

Benefits to Working Out With Others
Research has shown that people who work out with a buddy, not only stick to their exercise plans better but also work out longer and feel more positive about the experience afterward. So what is the magic of a Workout Buddy?
1. Courage. Gyms can be scary places. So can running trails. It's so much easier to get out there for the first time and just try it if you've got someone by your side cheering you on. To be honest I'd still do most of the crazy stuff I do even if I were alone but I would feel a lot dumber doing my Karate Kata all by myself. Plus I'd end up talking to myself. Nobody wants that.
2. Variety. People like different stuff and seeing someone else try something may inspire you to shake up your workout. And we all know that the single best principle of exercise is change! I got all the Gym Buddies to try handstand pushups and they, in turn, have challenged me in their own ways to run 26.2 miles, to try kipping pullups, to eat white rice (and it was SO yummy Krista!).
3. Accountability. It's easy to blow off your 6 a.m. training run if it's just you and your sneakers but add in a hyper dog or a friend on your doorstep and you'll be out the door, even if it is looking a bit like rain. I have learned to always let the Gym Buddies know if I'm going to miss a workout else I'll be flooded with "Are you DEAD?!?" texts within the hour.
4. Fun. The Gym Buddies and I laugh a lot. We laughed when Lisseth got a power wheel stuck up her butt, when Candice couldn't lift facing the mirror because she thought her knees were making angry faces at her, when Allison rolled her ankle but insisted on working out anyhow doing all her jumping jacks and squats one-legged, when Megan made innuendos about gym equipment, when Jennie helped me come up with 5 different slang terms for inappropriate sweat stains, and Sunny - well, we can't even look at each other without giggling ... I could go on but I'll stop so that they'll all still be talking to me tomorrow. And we won't even get started about all the opportunities we get to laugh at me (pretty much the entire purpose of this blog).

Giveaway
I'm not giving away the Gym Buddies. I'm sorry. You will have to find your own. However, Franklin Antoian of iBodyfit would like to add a personal touch to one of your workouts with free online personal training. His company offers "custom online personal training workouts designed, monitored and updated by professional personal trainers. Your workouts change and
improve based on your results. Whats best, you can always talk with a real Trainer from iBodyFit.com (email, IM, text and even phone) whenever you have a fitness question!" All you need to do to enter the giveaway is leave me a comment telling me who your workout buddy is (feel free to use a celebrity of your choice if you currently don't have a buddy) and why you love them! Winner will be announced Monday.

In addition, Whooga - maker of super comfy footwear - wants everyone to feel like a winner, or at least wants your tootsies to stay cozy and are offering all Great Fitness Experiment readers a $30 coupon to use in their online store! (Not 30% - but 30 DOLLARS). Just type in the code: THEGREATFI during checkout. Neither offer is restricted to the US.

PS> Admit it - you can't stop watching the ball flip guy, can you???

Skinny Vs. Strong - Who Wins?

2009-06-10T20:30:00.000-05:00

In a cage fight between skinny & strong who will win? On the left we have Jaslene Gonzales, winner of America's Next Top Model, Cycle Whatever. On the right we have an unnamed CrossFit woman. What's your call?

CrossFit chick, hands-down. Maybe in a bar fight and if Jaslene had a broken bottle. And the element of surprise. Then... Okay, not even then. CrossFit chick takes it in every scenario I can think up.

Never Thin Enough
Andrea Muizelaar, winner of Canada's Next Top Model, Cycle Infinite Winter, found this out the hard way. You may remember her from 2006 when she did what many would consider the unthinkable: she walked away from her title and modeling contracts because even as an emaciated anorexic, she was still told she wasn't thin enough.

One art director told her not to waste her money on a personal trainer, "This is real world," she was told. "It's long and lean that sells, not long, lean and muscular." Comments like that came all the time. "I was told in my skinniest stage: 'You gotta tone up your stomach; it's a little too big'," she said. She adds that she was so malnourished that her toenails were falling off (now that's high fashion!) and she was so weak that opening a heavy door was nearly impossible. (source)

At last she decided to choose her health over her modeling career and she scrapped it all, heading back home to her small home town in Canada where she got a job at a bank and enrolled in college.

Here she is (left) at the height of her modeling days. Here she is (right) today.

Finally Strong Enough
Her new healthy lifestyle was recently put to the test. On a cruise with a friend to the Caribbean, they were accosted by armed thieves. Her friend had a knife put to his throat and was knocked almost unconscious. Andrea managed to fight off her attackers, kicking, screaming and scratching. She escaped and ran to a nearby village to get help. Her friend was quickly found and, save for a concussion for her friend and lots of bruises and cuts on Andrea, both came out of it unhurt. (Incidentally, the villagers who came to her rescue were described as "several burly women with baseball bats." How awesome is that?!?!)

Imagine - going from being too frail to open a door to being strong enough to kick your way free from armed attackers. "If this had happened when I was [a] Top Model..., I would probably be a lot more messed up than I am right now," Andrea concluded.

Training For Thin Vs Training For Strong
When put in that light, every woman I know would say that of course she would rather be strong than skinny. The irony, however, is that most women train exactly the opposite (as Andrew once accused me of doing although hopefully we've worked that miscommunication out). Their entire focus is on skinnifying - read: endless calorie burning - instead of building muscle.

Now, nobody wants to look like the 1976 East German Women's Swim Team. Not even the East German swim team wants to look like the East German swim team. But your end goal definitely determines the type of training and nutrition program you use. The difference is between seeing food as evil vs. seeing food as fuel. The difference is heavy functional lifting vs. endless reps with a 3-lb dumbbell. The difference is deciding that what our bodies can do is more important than how they look.

I'm a girl. In our society, even. Believe me, I feel the thin pressure as much as anyone. We are told over and over again that our looks are our power and we are only as good as our last Botox treatment. But I, and I believe most of you too, don't totally buy that message. We buy People but we also get Women's Health. We lift weights because muscle is more compact than fat and will help us fit in our jeans better but we also get a little thrill every time we go to put up our ponytail and a bicep pops out. It's that balance that I'm always looking for, sometimes succeeding and sometimes not.

But I'm telling you, if comes down to wearing a size zero or being able to kick some bad-guy booty in a knife fight - at the very least I'm coming out of that with a chunk of somebody's ear. Now, if someone can please tell me where I can sign up for Krav Maga I'll be set.

PS> Lifting heavy will NOT make you look like a dude. Unless you are a dude. In which case, you probably should take the lipstick off. At least on the weight floor.

Thursdays are Greatest Hits days here at GFE. This post originally ran March 2008.