New Workout Playlist

Yes, I know my playlists are completely random. Let me also defend what I know is some bad music by saying that what I play at the gym is NOT what I play at home or in the car. What pumps me up to run is not necessarily what I enjoy most. Yes, I will soon stop defending all my posted playlists. I'm just not ready yet.

Flyest Angel- Nas
Lapdance- N.E.R.D.
Setting Sun- Chemical Brothers
American Boy- Estelle
La Grange- ZZ Top
Fat Bottom Girls- Queen
Hand on the Pump- Cypress Hill
Possum Kingdom- The Toadies
Sex Type Thing- Stone Temple Pilots (for the record, I dislike STP- except for this marvelous song)
The New Workout Plan- Kanye West
I Gotta Man- Positive K
I'm No Good- Amy Winehouse
Me and Mr. Jones- Amy Winehouse
Just a Friend- Biz Markie (don't you dare laugh)
She Wants to Move- N.E.R.D.

Now this is more like me

After a long day I managed to truck myself all the way over to the gym for a 7 p.m. kickboxing class. Impressive, right? There's nowhere to park on Monday nights, so I had to hike from the next lot over. Got there, stretched, warmed up, and just before class started I realized I'd left my water bottle in the car. I had plenty of time to retrieve it before class started but I didn't, because it was too long a walk to my car. And then I kickboxed for 60 minutes with no water.

What the hell is wrong with me?

And briefly, on the subject of kickboxing class let me say to Lois- Lo, you teach a terrific class, and I really enjoy it. But please note that the music of Seal is music for getting tender, not music for getting buff. PLease adjust your playlist accordingly. Also, pulsing techno remixes of REO Speedwagon? No.

But bad music and lack of water notwithstanding these classes are kicking my ass and I LOVE it. GO ME!

Yeah, I'm a slacker. What of it?

I know, I know. I went on and on (and on) about my new meal plan and how I was going to share the ups and downs, what I was eating and the progress I was making and I haven't posted since. That's because there isn't much to share. Posts would look something like this:

Day Two: Ate egg whites again

Day Three: Ate egg whites again

Day Four: Egg whites. Again


So I haven't posted. Basically what you saw as a sample from Day One is exactly what has followed the past few days. And it's actually been really easy. It might not have been if this plan were new to me. Since it's not, it was very easy to slip back in. Because I eat so often I'm really not hungry, even with all the working out I've been doing. I'm hitting the gym five days a week and working out at home with Sheilla two days each week. The scale is finally starting to move and I actually feel pretty terrific. I took my "cheat" day on Saturday night and had a piece of fried Haddock that I made at home with a pint of Guinness and some roasted broccoli (it was Pub Night at the Zimmers, on account of all the fressh Haddock they had at Costco. An homage to Rochester) and I also had a half a glass of wine one night and a handful of Tostitos another, but I'm doing great. I don't feel deprived and I'm still getting all the calcium and fiber that I need, two things I worry about when I try to cut my wheat and dairy. And of course, I feel much better without so much wheat or dairy in my diet. That's not new.

So that's it. I'm on Day 7, thank you very much, and tomorrow I start a new week, which means I get to add red meat and avocado. Not exactly exciting since I don't care much for either but Sheilla says I can have guacamole which I do love. Sounds like Wednesdays are going to Mexican night at the Zimmers! mmm!

Three weeks on this plan and then I can make changes, but since this is so similar to the plan I was already on, and to what works best for my lifestyle and my digestive system, I think I'll keep it.

So talk to me about your diet. Are you pretty consistent with your diet, or do you have ups and downs? What's the first change you make when you need to lose weight? Is there one nutrient or mineral you have to work harder to incorporate? Fiber? Calcium? Iron? Let's talk food.

Day One- This is actually going really well

So yesterday was Day One of my seven day meal plan. Here's what meals looked like for me:

Breakfast:

1/4 cup real, old fashioned oatmeal with 1/2 cup rice milk and 1 scoop EAS protein powder; 2 egg whites with half slice of American cheese and 1 tsp ketchup

Snack:

1 cup fresh berries blended with 2 scoops protein powder, ice and 1/2 cup rice milk plus 2 tsp Benefiber

Lunch:

1 serving (56 grams precooking weight) whole wheat linguine; 1 skinless chicken breast from a rotisserie chicken, 1.5 cups fresh organic spinach, 1 slice fresh mozzarella, 3/4 cup chunky marinara sauce

Dinner:

8 oz Haddock filet sauteed with 1 tbsp organic vegan canola butter, 1/4 cup white wine, 1/4 cup chicken stock and 1.5 tbsp lemon juice; 10 stalks of fresh asparagus (the skinny ones) with 1 tsp olive oil, salt and pepper.

Tons of water. Total calories: 1300 (per sparkpeople.com)


And while I was positively ravenous this morning, I wasn't hungry yesterday. I did fine.

Of course, this meal plan isn't new to me. This is how I ate before I got pregnant. It was very easy to slip back in to it, especially since I've been eating a modified version of this plan for weeks. Not bad at all. Let's see if my body responds the way it used to. Pre-pregnancy jeans by Christmas? I hope so.

I admit, I do miss alcohol, but not terribly. Having been dry for weeks, this really wasn't a change. We don't go out to eat very often and if we did, I could easily make this plan work. So far, so good. Wish me luck.

And we're back on (off?) the wagon

Before I became pregnant I'd reached a place where I felt I was closer than I'd ever been to mastering the art of moderation (much harder than french cooking, by the way) and I was really happy with my nutritional habits. After discovering I was pregnant the healthy eating didn't stop but I had to lose my diet mentality in favor of eating to maintain- and then to gain. I am very proud of the way I handled my pregnancy- working out with Sheilla and doing cardio consistently all the way through week 38, juicing most days and eating tons of lean protein and green vegetables, not to mention getting more than enough calcium and folic acid. But I also got used to eating bread and drinking milk while pregnant, as well as eating cake and slurping ice cream, four things which were verboten in my non pregnant life.

In July of 2007 I was diagnosed with Celiac disease, an immune deficiency that causes my body to negatively respond to the presence of gluten, a protein found in wheat, barley and rye. I could post for days about the symptoms that lead to my diagnosis, my disastrous nine weeks spent gluten free, and my perspective on the legitimacy of my diagnosis but I'll save that for another day. Your welcome. The bottom line is that the celiac diagnosis made me rethink my eating habits, as did a round of food allergy testing that indicated that I am also allergic to wheat and dairy, and to a lesser extent, shrimp and string beans. While going gluten free actually made me much sicker (NOTE: please don't email me about celiac disease, your story or why I'm wrong. I've read the books, I've seen the docs, I've lived the lifestyle, complete with sanitizing my kitchen and avoiding all processed foods, spices and marinades. Save the speech for someone who cares because I? Don't) I did have to admit, finally, that whether my celiac diagnosis is correct or is as severe as it is in other celiacs, the fact that I have been diagnosed as having both celiac disease AND wheat allergies is enough. I quit wheat. I still have pizza once a week or so, and I do continue to eat Ezekial breads (these do contain wheat but they are live grains which are not processed the same way by the body). I'm not strict about my wheat free living -I use flour for dusting and thickening, I use bread crumbs and soy sauce and I don't prepare my meals separately- but I have committed to making a change and I know it's an important one. I also know that I'm one of the lucky ones- my food allergies are mild and my system can tolerate a certain amount of gluten or wheat and still be symptom free. But the healthy thing to do is to avoid it, and I'm trying, really I am. Interestingly, I had no symptoms whatsoever while pregnant, not once, and I consumed the entire available whole grain and dairy containing world. Pregnancy does have it's up side.

Anyway, my renewed commitment to a wheat free lifestyle comes at a time when I'm also (as you well know) trying to reach some very lofty health goals. In an attempt to jump start my metabolism and weight loss, Sheilla The Trainer has started me on a seven day meal plan that looks like this:

Breakfast:
1/4 cup rolled oats with 1/2 cup rice milk
3 egg whites

Snack:
Protein Shake- I make mine with 3/4 cup fruit, 1/2 cup rice milk, 2 scoops protein powder, water and 2 tsp Benefiber (which is Gluten Free)

Lunch:
Fish or Chicken, spinach and a carb of my choice: I usually choose one serving of whole wheat pasta, brown rice, sweet potatoes or half a serving of quinoa (which I always avoided because of it's extremely high calorie content but which can be enjoyed in small servings).

Snack:
Rice cake with peanut butter (I add 1 tsp sugar free jam- don't tell)

Dinner:
Chicken or Fish with asparagus or green beans (I'm going to go with any green vegetable that strikes my fancy, thank you)

I'm also enjoying shallots, garlic, mushrooms and a shaving of fresh parm or fresh mozzarella here and there, or a bit of low sugar marinade or barbecue sauce. I need to enjoy my meals and I need meals to be interesting. I love food and I love to cook, and I won't settle for a meal plan that deprives me of things that make my life worthwhile. For example, I don't love egg whites, so to make them palatable I use salt, pepper, half a slice of low fat organic cheese and some ketchup or hot sauce. Maybe I'm not following the plan to the letter but it's close enough for me. Occasionally I make myself a spinach and mushroom omelet, as Sheilla does. Tomatoes and shallots and garlic also go a long way toward making almost any dish interesting. On Sunday we went to our favorite restaurant on the beach and I enjoyed an omelet with spinach, asparagus, crab meat, fresh mozzarella and sundried tomatoes. Wheat free really can be delicious- so can healthy.

On day 5 or 6 of the plan I get a "cheat" day where I follow the meal plan but add some wine or dessert or pizza. I'll probably make a thin whole wheat pizza crust and add my green veggies and chicken to that- a BBQ chicken pizza with mushrooms and bell peppers and a spinach salad, or a white pizza with asparagus and sundried tomatoes. As for alcohol, I haven't been drinking. No, really. I know you saw the Halloween party photos but I only had a splash of wine. Really. I've decided that I miss my skinny jeans more than I'll ever miss Pinot Grigio. Besides, wine will return eventually.

So that's the scoop. On day 8, or week two, I'll get some fat added to the plan, and on week 3 I'll get some carbs, hopefully fruit as that's the only thing I miss-blueberries on my oatmeal. So far, so good. Of course, this plan is easier for me than it might be for others because I'm home during the day and can cook my own meals.

So here it is, my seven day kick start plan. Place your bets here: will I make it? Will I drop the pounds? Give up in frustration? Take a hostage? Wait and see.

Sauteed Snapper with Plum Tomatoes and Spinach

In honor of my new meal plan, a delicious fish recipe.

If you can't find snapper, purchase another mild, firm white fish, such as cod or halibut. If your trainer still lets you eat carbs, serve alongside your favorite pasta tossed with pesto.

Yield
4 servings (serving size: 1 fillet and about 1/2 cup spinach mixture)

Ingredients
1 tablespoon olive oil, divided
4 (6-ounce) snapper fillets
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 1/2 cups diced plum tomato (about 6 tomatoes)
2 teaspoons bottled minced garlic
1/4 cup dry white wine
3 cups baby spinach leaves
Preparation
Heat 1 1/2 teaspoons oil in a large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat. Sprinkle fish evenly with salt and pepper. Add fish to pan; cook 2 minutes on each side. Remove fish from pan.

Heat remaining 1 1/2 teaspoons olive oil in pan over medium-high heat. Add tomato and garlic; sauté 1 minute. Stir in wine; simmer 2 minutes. Add spinach to pan; cook for 1 minute or just until spinach wilts. Return fish to pan. Spoon tomato mixture over fish; cook 1 minute or until fish flakes easily when tested with a fork or until desired degree of doneness.

Nutritional Information
Calories:
225 (24% from fat)
Fat:
5.9g (sat 1g,mono 2.9g,poly 1.3g)
Protein:
36.5g
Carbohydrate:
5.2g
Fiber:
1.7g
Cholesterol:
63mg
Iron:
1.3mg
Sodium:
280mg
Calcium:
90mg

Let's Play a Guessing Game

What is soft and purple and ribbed all over?

No, it's not a pair of corduroys from Jcrew's fall collection.

It's my belly.

Of the many changes my body went through during pregnancy the least welcome was the addition of stretch marks. Many of them. In fact, my stretch marks are so severe that when I asked my doctor what I could use to help erase them she took one look and said, "Oh...you might want to consider laser treatment."

I didn't develop a single mark until I was midway through my eighth month- I had less than six weeks left in my pregnancy. I thought I was home free and then one morning I woke up and there they were- my first stretch marks. Yes, I used all the magic creams and oils, but surprise, they aren't magic and your doctor is right. It's all about skin tone and genetics. I try not to think about them because thinking about the reality, that my body has changed drastically, and probably permanently, makes me sad. My stretch marks and my scars now make up a sort of diary of what my body has been through, what it's done and where it's been. I look in the mirror now and I don't see me, I see the two surgeries, the pregnancy and the stretched out scar tissue that is a sad reminder of what used to be an adorable belly ring. They make me feel old. It's similar to the feeling you have after you've dinged your new car a couple of times and you finally realize that it's no longer the flashy new ride you drove off the dealer's lot.

The stretch marks more than any other change in my body have prompted me to consider my stance on cosmetic surgery. I've always been against it, believing that I'd rather look like my very own self the way that nature designed me than to fool around with my packaging and ending up a distorted version of myself. Of course, it's easy to say those things at 25, never having grappled with scarring, stretching, aging or sun damage. I don't recognize my body anymore. Yes, these changes are a map of where I've been, they are a part of who I am now. I'm not the girl I was 5 years ago, fit and unblemished. I've done a lot of living since then. I've worked hard to move past the painful emotional events of my life and to heal them. Why shouldn't I do the same for the damage that life has done to my body?

I've always approached cosmetic surgery as an extreme that people take to try to escape themselves, to try to be something or someone that they're not. But since the surgeries, and particularly since the baby, I find myself wishing I could fix some of my changes- not flaws, exactly, but changes- to find my way back to my "own" body; my old body. The idea that I have to change all the way down to my very skin in order to take on this new role is overwhelming. I do understand what a gift pregnancy is and I'm deeply grateful that this door was opened to me, and if having this baby and growing her in my body and experiencing the miracle of birthing her had meant gaining weight forever or having stretch marks right across my face then I still would have done it. She is worth it. She really is. Missing the old me, what I looked like and what my body could do, how it felt and what I could wear, doesn't negate that. But I miss the packaging I came in with. I know that some changes are inevitable, and maybe all this wondering and wishing takes place because some part of me believes that if I could get rid of the pounds and the stretching and the scarring that I'd have a second chance, be able to erase the parts of the story that I don't like by destroying the evidence. Or maybe a little lasering or few shots, a peel or maybe a little tuck is just taking advantage of what the world has to offer. How different is it, really, than putting on some spanx under my dress, or highlighting my hair?

What exactly, in this age of Botox and Restylane and non-surgical facelifts, even constitutes cosmetic surgery anymore? At what point, along the broad spectrum from lipstick to full tummy tucks, do we go from wanting to be our best to wanting to be something or someone else? To refusing or denying who we really are in favor of a more acceptable package? Where is the line between wanting to look and feel good for ourselves and trying to push ourselves toward (someone else's idea of) perfection? The answers are different for all of us.

The dilemma I face when I consider my appearance (and the lengths I'm willing to go to in order to change or maintain it) involves my daughter. I want to raise a strong, confident woman who loves herself and her body. Can I do that without loving my own body? I need to make the decisions I would want her to make. I know that. But that doesn't turn off the voice inside my head that tells me that this part could be a little leaner, that part a little tighter or a little higher, my teeth a little straighter or a little whiter.

I want to hear from you women out there. All of my readers are women, all are friends, so tell me: where is the line for you? How far are you willing to go for appearances? Where do you draw your line? Talk to me. Tell me how you find peace with your body or why you can't. Tell me how you find your line, how you create balance between striving to be your best and accepting your limitations. Where does the quest stop for you? How far are you willing to go? Who in your life influences your decisions? Whose life will you influence with yours?

Grilled Chicken Pannini with Roasted Red Peppers and Mozzarella

I'm always on the lookout for simple, healthy lunch recipes and this one is my new favorite. I'm a total foodie and I like every meal to be a celebration. I bore easily and since I'm not a fan of coldcuts, soup OR salad (for a chubby girl, I'm very hard to please) lunch time is always a challenge. This recipe satisfies my need for a lunch that is healthy and delicious, and it packs plenty of protein and calcium, nutrients I try to include at every meal.

What you need:

2 slices Ezekial or other whole grain bread
1 slice fresh mozzarella* OR 1 slice reduced fat provolone OR 1/4 cup reduced fat shredded mozzarella
1/3 cup roasted red peppers (enough to cover the bread in a single layer)
2 chicken tenders OR 1/2 split boneless, skinless chicken breast
1 tsp olive oil
1 tsp Italian Seasoning
1 tsp prepared pesto sauce (optional)


Rub the chicken with the olive oil and Italian Seasoning and grill. I usually grill all my chicken for the week ahead of time in two batches while I'm cooking chicken for our dinner. I slice the chicken and store in the fridge to make lunch time easy.

Spread the pesto on one of the slices of bread and top with the chicken. Spread the mozarella on the other slice and top with the red peppers. Grill on an indoor grill or pannini press until the bread is toasted and the cheese begins to melt. You can also prepare this recipe on the stove top in a frying pan. Just coat the pan with cooking spray and prepare as you would a grilled cheese sandwich.

*Fresh mozzarella is a delicious treat, but you can save calories and fat by using shredded mozzarella or sliced provolone.

Because you want to know how it went, right?

Well, the wedding is over. The dress looked great, the hair looked even better, and both the red lipstick and the bangin' shoes were a smash. But more importantly- I felt gorgeous. I don't know how I looked to others and for once I don't care. I felt wonderful. And it wasn't the dress, or the hair, or even the shoes (though the shoes helped). I felt great because I kept the focus where it needed to be- on having a good time. I danced and laughed and drank, I told stories around the bonfire and took silent walks among the changing leaves. I kissed my husband and joked with my friends, and I had the best weekend I can remember having in a long time. And when someone said, "You look great!" I didn't roll my eyes or cringe, didn't worry that they were condescending to me or pitying me. In fact, I didn't think about it at all. I just said thank you. And that felt great too.

Score one for Al.

I haven't gotten back to the gym yet, but- since this is the place to brag about this kind of thing- I'd like to mention that I'm actually down two pounds since the start of my trip, proving that once you quit worrying about losing the pounds, they really will come off. I managed to eat pretty well and still enjoy my favorite NY pizza and plenty of red wine, but I also managed to not think too much about food. I can only imagine what I'll be able to accomplish when I quit obsessing about what I am or am not going to eat and how I look.

2012- Al for Pres? The way I feel right now, it just might happen.

And Now, Sheilla's Idea of Moderation

As you know I've spent the last year and a half working with a personal trainer- Sheilla Lloyd of Inner Strength Fitness. I adore her, and she has played a vital role in keeping me focused on my goals and working out through two surgeries and a pregnancy. Still, she's never seen me with this much extra weight on me, and with the lingering pregnancy hormones forcing my body to hold on to the fat I'm trying so desperately to burn off, Sheilla seems to be getting a little nervous. She has decided that it's time for me to cut back on my carbs in two week stretches- going two weeks low carb, two weeks no carb, until I see the weight begin drop. Part of me thinks this might be just what my aging metabolism needs to get me started. The other part wants to beat Sheilla over the head with a loaf of bread. Crusty bread.

I once tried Atkins because somehow I forgot that I don't like meat. I lasted two days. I also tried the South Beach diet because I forgot how much I need booze. Sweet, sweet booze. In the end I learned that not only is cutting out an entire food group a stupid way to live your life, but going low carb makes my digestive system very unhappy, and makes the people who have to be around me while I'm carb counting less happy still.

But because she is a professional, and because I have to admit that despite all my protests I don't do very well with moderation, I'm going to try to listen to her advice. Since I'm allergic to wheat and try to keep my wheat consumption to a minimum, you'd think that would be easy. It's not. There's still the wide world of corn, rice, potatoes and delicious Ezekial bread to taunt you. We do keep a very healthy diet, previous posts about moderation notwithstanding, but I'm interested to see how this theory of hers plays in to my quest to learn what moderation looks like for me.

I have no intention of going completely carb free. I don't know much about successful moderation, but I know that it includes oatmeal. I need carbs at breakfast Sheilla, and you're just going to have to live with it. I admit, more salad would probably make me happier, healthier woman, but less oatmeal might send me up in to a tower, you get my drift? I cannot eat eggs every day. There isn't enough ketchup in the world.

But I'm curious to see what half as much white and twice as much green might do to my body. So I'm giving it a whirl. I'm curious to see how my body feels, how it responds. I also know it's time to stop calling pizza and beer twice a week moderation, and time to stop counting and obsessing over every calorie. Maybe it's time to count cholesterol and vegetable servings instead.


What do you think?

I Walk the Line

For me, diet is always the most challenging part of the diet and exercise weight loss combo. I love to exercise. I also love to eat. Because I'm not willing to drastically cut calories or completely cut out any food that I love, no matter how bad it is for me (Pizza, I'm looking at you), my weight loss is always slow to progress.

I've always believed that I needed to follow a moderate, healthy diet all the time, whether I'm trying to lose weight or not, the theory being that if I ate normally I'd be less likely to see the pounds return. But I have to admit that I've abused the theory of moderation in the past, and my reluctance to say no to something I enjoy has definitely kept me from reaching my fitness goals. Besides not fitting in to my skinny jeans, there is alo the much more important issue of my health. Fitness isn't just being able to run and jump and kick. Fitness is also about a strong, healthy heart, a healthy vascular system, a healthy body in and out. And as much as I'd like to deny it, I'm sure that my indulgences are also doing damage that I can't see.


The truth of the matter is that I haven't met my weight loss goals in the past because I refuse to say no to something I want. Worse still, I often find myself making an unhealthy choice over a healthy one because some part of my brain is still wired to believe that junk is a treat and healthy food is a punishment.

Where is the line between an occasional indulgence and a pattern of excess? At what point does striving for a healthy lifestyle become an obsession with calories and fat? Assuming you aren't in a pattern of disordered eating, how do you find the line? By the scale? By the fit of your pants? Your cholesterol? By some numeric breakdown of the number of times you've eaten chips this month?

Tell me what moderation looks like to you. Do you feel like you've got a good idea of what moderation means in your life?Are you as healthy as you want to be? If not, do you over or under indulge? How great a role does food play in your life?

I'm accepting, slowly, that I don't really exercise moderation, and instead vacillate between two extremes. Food plays a huge role in my life and I'm still trying to figure out why. Can it be as simple as loving good food and loving to cook great meals? If so, at what point does cutting back genuinely deprive me versus making me happier and healthier? Will it always be a battle? That's what I'm trying to figure out. It's time to stop obsessing over calories, time to stop bingeing because I've deprived myself. It's time to find my middle ground.

So tell me- where is yours?

I Call This Piece "Overcompensation in Black"

Behold, my new Linea Paolo shoes, purchased for the wedding we're attending next weekend. I couldn't find a dress that made me look 20 pounds lighter, or even one that made me feel really good, so I'm overcompensating with really expensive shoes. And I luuuurve them. I want to lick them.

So Scottie's friend Jason is getting married next Saturday. Yay for Jay! Jay and Scott have been friends for nearly 14 years and just about every single one of our close friends will be in attendance. I know I just had a baby, and I know there is absolutely no one paying attention to me (Hello, bride in a big white gown) but I still catch myself wishing I'd been able to lose some more poundage before the party. The worst of it is that I'm tired of always wishing the same thing- we've got some big event or another and I'm never excited about the event itself, I'm always worried about how I'm going to look and wishing I'd finally done something about those last ten (or in this case, thirty) pounds. Same old story. So this time I'm going to try to change my attitude. I may be in a bigger dress size and have a more sizeable derriere than ever before, but I'm going to rock that dress and that ass with all the confidence I can muster. I'm going to walk in to that room like I'm Heidi Klum, only I'm going to eat my dinner. I'm going to laugh and dance and drink and have fun, and I'm not going to worry about appearance at all, save for checking my teeth for lipstick and my shoes for toilet paper.

One thing that always works in my favor is that I'm way too narcissistic to just let myself fade in to the background no matter how uncomfortable I am with my appearance. I do not surrender without a fight. Besides the bangin' shoes, I'm also planning on rocking bright red lips and super blonde hair, plus an assload of diamonds and some luxurious cashmere. Fat be damned, I WILL be fabulous, and I WILL feel good. Because I know that at the end of the day my friends want to see me, not my outfit, and the only person even slightly concerned with my appearance is ME.

This blog is about losing the weight and getting in shape, about what I can accomplish when I work hard and when I believe in myself. But it's also about making those changes from a place of self love, not self hatred. Real change only comes from a place of love, from believing you deserve the best, not from believing that you aren't okay as you are.

So who cares if I haven't lost the weight? For once I'm going to look forward to the party and be in the moment, not worrying about what I'll wear and how I'll look or whether or not people are talking about me behind my back.

Yeah, my ass is fat. So you'd better watch out because I plan to SHAKE IT.

You're Not LISTENING!

Dear Body,

This is Brain speaking. Apparently you've forgotten who is in charge here, so let me remind you how it goes. I give the orders, you obey. That's how this thing works. I say "Jump", you say "We're already in the air, Captain."

I noticed recently that you've decided to think for yourself. You seem to think that just because you grew a person you can do anything you want, and it seems you're ignoring me all together. Well I'm putting a stop to that. I'm cracking the whip and from now on, we do what I say! You may have grown a person but I wrote the blueprint and don't you forget it. You're nothing without me, do you hear me?

No, wait. Don't go. I'm not really angry. But we need to talk. It's time to let go of the fat. During pregnancy you piled on pounds no matter what I fed you or how hard we worked out. And it was okay. I let it go because we were making a person. But now that person lives on the outside and we're not pregnant anymore. As of last week we're not even breast feeding anymore. It's time. I implore you: let the fat go. It isn't helping any of us. I know, I know; you liked being pregnant. It made you feel proud, gave you a sense of accomplishment. I'll make you a deal. Let go of the fat and I'll turn us in to an athlete. No? Okay, well then, I'll turn us in to a fit, healthy, happy person. And then? When we're done? Maybe I'll let you make another person.

Just this once.

And I Paid Her To Do This

Uuuuuuuuuughh....

Many, many squats. Much lunges. Big Owie. Much Hurt-y. Bad Sheilla! Bad, bad Sheilla!

Okay, it's good for me, I know. Great, even. But...I live in a two storey house and the stairs? HURT right now, as does the really, really hard toilet seat.

On the plus side, I did 15 girl pushups today in our first set! I think I did 15 in the second set too, but I'm not sure, as I believe I blacked out. Anyway, I was really proud of the first 15. Also? I am back to lifting what I did before I got pregnant, and in one move, more. Feeling super proud about that.

On the down side the scale at the doctor's office says I've only lost two pounds in the last month. But I secretly believe they screw with the scale just to see the look on women's faces. What with all the stress of overcrowded offices and HMO managed care, I imagine they need a laugh now and then.

Also, something I wondered about during pregnancy: why in the world, when healthy blood pressure readings are such a serious concern during pregnancy, would they take your blood pressure after they weigh you? I mean, how long do you need to be in that business to realize that this isn't a smart idea? Just sayin'.

So I feel great about my progress, but our next house? All one level living.

OW.

Healthy Recipe of the Week: Chicken Stuffed With Prosciutto and Spinach

4 boneless, skinless trimmed chicken breast halves
4 slices good prosciutto
4 slices reduced fat smoked provolone, or mozzarella
about 2 cups fresh spinach, wilted in the microwave OR cooked and drained
2 cups italian seasoned breadcrumbs
cooking spray


Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

Lightly saute or microwave your spinach until wilted. On a large sheet of aluminum foil, lay out your spinach, prosciutto, cheese and chicken breasts. The foil is your work surface- you are making an assembly line of the ingredients.

Cut a pocket in each chicken breast. Place a slice of prosciutto and a slice of cheese inside each chicken breast. Divide the spinach in to four equal parts, and tuck one portion of spinach in between the prosciutto and cheese in each of the four breast halves.

Place the breadcrumbs on a plate or shallow dish. Once you've stuffed your chicken, spray it liberally on all sides with cooking spray. Roll the coated chicken in the breadcrumbs and coat thoroughly.

Place the coated breasts on a baking sheet. Bake the chicken breasts at 400 for about 22-25 minutes, until lightly browned and cheese is starting to melt out. Serves Four. Serve with Honey Roasted Sweet Potatoes. Also delicious served with Spring Vegetables and Caramelized Shallots or Roasted Asparagus.

And what do you know, I'm actually doing it

I've never been an athlete. In second grade my parents signed me up for soccer. My dad, a former soccer player, took me to the sporting goods store to buy me my first pair of cleats. A girlie girl all the way through, I cried at the sight of black cleats ("Black sneakers are for boys!") until he gave in and found me a store that sold white cleats. He tried to convince me that no one wore white cleats, that white cleats would get grass stained when I ran and kicked and fell.

He needn't have been concerned. Besides cloud watching and looking cute in my tiny uniform, the only thing I was good at was throw-ins; mainly because the ball was going away from me rather than coming at me, and there was no need for contact with other players. Most importantly, I could use my hands and didn't have to get my pretty white shoes dirty.

I'm not an athlete.

Anyway, by 6th grade an injury sidelined me permanently from gym class, and any hope that I might develop muscle tone or hand eye coordination vanished in an instant. I did, however, earn the nickname "Human Dictionary" and scored a 740 on the verbal portion of my SAT.

Always preferring books and words over sports and activity, exercise never occurred to me until, after a lifetime of thinness, I gained the freshman 15 (okay, 20) and couldn't fit in to my clothes (do you see a pattern developing here?). I started working out, doing Tae Bo and working with free weights, even running. But by the time I reached graduate school life had become chaotic and exercise was nearly impossible. My weight continually crept up, the result of long hours at school, my internship and my part time job (as a waitress in a bakery cafe. Why couldn't I find a job folding shirts at the Gap?).

Eventually I returned to the gym, but over the next few years I didn't do much to challenge myself. I was afraid of group exercise, remembering the nightmare that was high school gym class (even when you're popular, the jock girls aren't very nice to you when you let the volley ball fly by because you really just don't care) (seriously, if you're the kind of person who took gym class volleyball totally seriously, just stop reading now because we're never going to see eye to eye). I had always been told I'd never be an athlete, and I listened. I just didn't believe I was capable of fitness. Thinness, yes. Fitness, no.

That fear and lack of self confidence usually takes the form of "I Can't Because"- the excuses I've found to keep from pushing myself harder than I am comfortable pushing. "I Can't Because I didn't eat anything yet today. My blood sugar is too low." "I Can't Because I left my water bottle at home." "I Can't Because I didn't get enough sleep last night" "I Can't Because I'm not strong enough or fit enough to try." The launching of space shuttles in to orbit required less work than preparing me for an intense cardiovascular workout.

But something changed, something that shook up the way I think about my body, about what I can do. I had a baby. I endured 26 hours of labor without any meds at all, and then, totally numb, I pushed out an 8 pound baby who was face up and got stuck in the birth canal. I grew a beautiful, big, healthy baby with my body and I pushed her out. My body can do a whole lot more than I give it credit for. And in the last few weeks, newly post partum, a time when I once would have made excuses ("I'm not ready yet, I'm not strong enough yet, I won't be able to do it") I stopped reasoning and just starting doing. I went in to kickboxing class when I was 9 weeks post partum, and I didn't care that I was one of the heavier women in the class, I didn't care how hard it was or wheher the wind conditions/global economy/astrological charts were perfect before I tried. I just went. And I did it. I did it beautifully. I did it full tilt. I didn't modify a bit of that workout, and I didn't hold anything back. The next day I ran the interval workout Sheilla assigned me without worrying that I wouldn't be able to complete it. When I thought I couldn't go any further, when I didn't want to go any further, I thought to myself, "I pushed out a baby. I can do this." And sometimes, "Just shut up and do it." And I did. I did it.

And I'm still doing it. And it feels fantastic.

And now a few things that DO fit

Behold: the oodles and oodles of shoozles I bought during my pregnancy to compensate for the fact that I couldn't squeeze my ass in to pants. (Yes, it is a sickness. I know)

There's no point to this post, really, I just like to be reminded of all the things that do fit.

Someday...We'll Be Together

You're far away....from me my looove...but just as sure my-my-baby...as there are stars above..wanna say-wanna say- wanna say...

Someday, we'll be together. Some sweet day, yes we will, yes we will....

Tell everybody now...


My green velvet jacket. My Seven, Citizens and Rock and Republic jeans. My army of gorgeous silk dresses. My embellished, gypsy skirt from Nordstrom.

How I miss you, my friends.

Before I was pregnant I dressed well. Heck, I actually wore outfits. But for the last 11 months everything I've worn either had an elastic waist or was shaped like (and was the size of) a tent. I miss my old clothes. I miss them a lot.

And while I am pursuing these fitness goals because I deserve to accomplish goals I never thought I'd reach, while I want to treat my body well and feel it treat me well in return, I've also got some fly gear in my closet and I miss it like the Spice Girls missed Ginger. I'm ready for my reunion tour.

Elliptical machine, here I come.

Tuesday's Healthy Recipe

Honey Roasted Sweet Potatoes

These delicious potatoes are easy to make and full of nutrients. They are also lower in starch and carbs than white potatoes, and make an excellent, easy side dish for a weeknight meal or for entertaining. One of my favorite Go To recipes. Courtesy of Ellie Krieger on foodtv.com


2 pounds red-skinned sweet potatoes
2 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons honey
1 teaspoon fresh lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon salt
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.
Peel and cut the sweet potatoes into 1-inch pieces and put in a 9 by 13 bakingdish. In a small bowl whisk together olive oil, honey and lemon juice. Pour mixture over potatoes and toss to coat. Sprinkle with the salt, and bake, stirring occasionally, for about 1 hour, until potatoes are tender.

The Current Cardio Playlist

Now, normally I wouldn't share my odd tastes in running jams with the world, as I prefer not to be laughed at. However, since this is all about how I'm getting fit, and maybe how you can too, let me share what moves me to run faster and jump higher. And yes, it does sound like a commercial for Rock of the 80's Part Two, yes it is weird, and no, I don't care. So there. Although I must add the following disclaimer: Just because I rock out to it on the elliptical trainer does not mean I'd play it in my car or at a party or working at my desk. Case in point, see: Jett, Joan. (But admit it, Van Halen rocks)(If I ever run for President, Higher is definitely my campaign song)

Higher- Van Halen
Jump- Van Halen
Setting Sun- The CHemical Brothers
Never Met a Girl Like You Before- Edwin Collins
Roll Out- Ludacris
She Wants to Move- N.E.R.D.
Got Your Money- Old Dirty Bastard
Candi Bar- Keith Murray
Beautiful Girls- Van Halen
Doncha- Pussycat Dolls (and yes, thanks, I am ashamed of this one. But I just can't stop)
Me and Mr. Jones- Amy Winehouse

Because I Want To Be Able To Kick Your Ass

Well folks, the time has come.

On June 28th, 2008 I delivered a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Cayce Joy weighed in at 8 pounds, 3 ounces and measured 21 and a half inches long. As miraculous as her birth was, I couldn't help but feel disappointed. Given my weight gain during pregnancy, I'd been hoping for a 25 pound baby.

It's an old story. I've gone up and down the scale for years, worn everything from a size 4 to a size 14, and my motivation for weight loss has always been external. I wanted you to think I looked good, I wanted to fit in here in my appearance obsessed community, I wanted to wear designer clothes and look good in a bikini. I believed that your approval of my appearance gave me worth. But now I have a different motivation.

I want to be able to kick your ass.

Not that I actually want to kick your ass. But if you talk smart to me in a bar, I want to know that I have the option. I want to know that I am strong and I am fit. I want to be in better shape when I am thirty than I was when I was twenty. I want to find out just what I'm capable of when I stop making excuses and start really working.

At twenty years old I was skinny. Not thin; skinny. I shared pants with my best friend, a woman who stands a full five inches shorter than me and has always been petite- even after she gave birth to twins. (How I've managed to remain friends with this woman- why anyone is friends with such a woman- is another story) But fitness is a different subject entirely. At just under 5'10 inches tall, I weighed 134 pounds. I was thin, sure, but I couldn't run a mile (not that I tried) and I couldn't open my own jars or carry my own luggage. And worst of all, I thought I was fat. Even when I've maintained a healthy weight, I've had trouble feeling good about my body.

Back in those skinny days, I obsessively counted calories. I worked out, and I did some limited weight training, but the emphasis was always on getting thinner, wanting there to be less of me, always worried that there was too much of me for everyone else's liking. I don't know where the pressure came from, since it certainly didn't come from my boyfriend or my family. I suppose I'll blame part of it on my competitive nature. If you're thin, I want to be thinner. If you look good, I want to look better.

I'm sure you know what happened next. Eventually the need for perfection became too taxing and I went to the other extreme. Once I had a taste (no pun intended) of what it felt like to be free to eat anything I wanted- when I stopped counting calories and just ate and drank as I pleased-well, then I couldn't get enough. Thirty pounds in one year. Ouch. I went on that way for the next three years, dropping 15 pounds or so at a time, but always ballooning back up again. And then my mother died, and for the first time in my life I didn't have to make any effort whatsoever to lose weight. The pounds just fell off. But it wasn't long before bad habits (read: comfort food, and worse, comfort drinking) caught up with me, and the pounds came back on. In the year before I was married I tried to lose the weight, and I did alright- lost some of it, but didn't get back down to the healthy weight I'd reached and then maintained for nearly a year after my mom died. I remembered all too well the deprivation of the skinny days, and how much I hated feeling like I "couldn't" have this or "couldn't" have that, and despite my denial of this truth, I never really worked as hard as I could have.

And then in 2006 I reached my highest weight ever- 179 pounds. I felt terrible. On my 27th birthday I sat on the floor of my closet in tears, too depressed about my appearance to want to put on clothes and go out. Nothing looked good anymore, and I didn't like what I'd done to myself. It felt just awful- physically and emotionally. Unfortunately it still wasn't enough for me to make a change, until a month later when searing abdominal pain sent me to a doctor who diagnosed me with gallstones. The gallbladder came out and I vowed to return to a healthier lifestyle. I've always known what to do. It's the doing that gets me. I'm sure you can relate.

In between my 27th and 28th birthdays I lost 23 pounds, put on more muscle than I'd ever had in my life, and regained my self confidence. I was about ten pounds from my goal when I became pregnant in October of 2007, and despite careful eating and exercising all the way in to week 38 of the pregnancy, I still gained 54 pounds. It was in the last two months of my pregnancy that I decided that I owed it to myself to work harder than I'd ever worked before to get in shape after baby arrived. It was time to see what I could do when I really tried, when I really believed in myself. Pregnancy showed me that my body was miraculous and could do amazing things. I want to see what else it is capable of.

So here I am. And I'm telling the world about it because I refuse to let myself off the hook. I want to be strong. I want to be fit. Before I was pregnant I could do pushups- real pushups, not girl pushups- for the very first time in my life. And I know I wasn't working nearly as hard as I could have been. What might I be capable of if I finally do?

My body made a person, and then pushed that person out. I'm pretty sure I can do just about anything now.

So gather 'round folks, and follow the tale of the lazy girl who loved pizza but became strong and fit anyway. Or perhaps, the tale of an angry woman who took solace in beer and deleted her blog before too many of her friends and family could see it. Either way, it should be interesting for at least a few minutes.

Just to prove how serious I am, I'm posting the picture of the skinny white designer jeans I bought at Saks 5th Avenue when I was nine months pregnant. This is it. No more excuses. No more wondering what I could be or could do if I really gave myself a fair chance. We're going balls to the wall here kids, and it's skinny jeans or die trying.

Or maybe I'll just find a really good tailor.