Let me start off by saying that it is snowing here in the hills and my kids are going on their fourth snow day after going back for one - that's right, one - day of school after winter break. It's snowing and I'm stuck in the house with two adorably sweet but bored and cranky kids. My husband is, of course, out of town.
As if all that weren't enough the cold is making me crave . . .dun dun dun . . . CARBS. Now, I'm not one of those crazy Adkins crazies who swear of all semblance of carbohydrates in favor of animal by-products. But I do try to take a sensible path of carb limitations. I enjoy whole grain breads and whole wheat pasta and I like fruit and sweet potatoes way to much to go cold-turkey. But, sadly, what I'm craving is Aunt Jemima's buttermilk pancakes and/or mashed potatoes. Maybe even a big hunl of pound cake. As if I didn't do enough carby damage over the holidays.
Now here comes the snow and I'm contemplating building a fire in the fireplace. Which of course leads to. . . hot cocoa. I guess it wouldn't be so bad had I actually chopped the wood and hauled it up the hill from the woodpile. But I think we all know that didn't happen.
My question is this. Why does the cold weather lead to natural carb cravings. Is it a comfort food thing that makes us think of when we were kids and would stare eagerly at the (considerable smaller that today's) TV just waiting for the "No school today in___" to flash across the screen. Or is it deeper than that? Are we all just cavemen at heart. Fattening up for the long winter ahead? Is this why all the Russian steriotypes focus on Borsht and Vodka? Surely no body freezes to death in Russia nowadays. Boredom, maybe. But hypothermia? OK, OK, I know I'm being culterally insensitve, but carbs are about to get me and I have to blame someone. And who can we as Americans blame if not the Russians?
I have firm resolve not to let it end badly. I mean, this snow is supposed to last for days. I can't hole up and hibernate - much as I may want to. So, I'm thinking, in the spirit of the end of the Berlin Wall, a compromise is in order. Perhaps a cup of hot cocoa in front of the fire would not be so terrible if I log a few extra miles on the treddy. Plus I have my Wii fit which I love, and my Walk Away the Pounds, and most exciting my new Valerie Bertinelli DVD which came by UPS today. (more on that - the DVD, not UPS - later) I'm having somewhat of a girl crush going on with Valerie right now. Alright, so I'm firing up the DVD player right now. Hot cocoa, here I come. Pancakes, perhaps another day. Like after a marathon or something.
Showing posts with label Walk Away the Pounds. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Walk Away the Pounds. Show all posts
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Step It Up!
In my ongoing quest for weight loss (and the immediate goal of being below 200 for my 30th birthday now 25 days away) I have added yet another formerly impossible, but no less insane, workout.
First I did the Leslie Sansone Walk Away the Pounds DVDs in the privacy of my own home. These were great and I still occasionally employ them on snow days or other tragedies of house arrest.
Then I bought the Wii Fit. Let me just say that that little piece of equipment is for sadists. It comes with a 'balance board' which is unfortunate for one who has no balance. And you get your own on-screen computer generated 'trainer'. I picked the male trainer because by and large I get along better with men and the female trainer looked just a little too perky in her little yoga top and jaunty pony-tail for my tastes. Yes, I know, it's a computer - but still. So I got boy, which even though that's what I often call my brother just didn't seem like a good name for this guy. Turns out boy had a pony-tail too. And yoga pants. Very new age. And to beat it all he seemed to have the patience of someone who has nothing better to do than workout all day. Bastard! I did a few workouts with boy before he finally just pissed me off to no end. Turns out boy is gay. ( a group that I generally have a blast with - like I said, women can be bitches - but this guy was a be-otch of the 1st degree) Again, I know he's a computer. I know. I just don't need that kind of pressure. I named him Chet. It seemed appropriate.
So I joined a real life gym. Curves. I figured it was women only so . . . Yes, I know what I said earlier. But the women at the gym aren't bitches - well, at least not at the gym and that's all I'm concerned about anyway. These women are there for the same reason I am and that kind of makes us sisters (in a we are the world kind of way). And it has been my salvation. I try to go three times a week. Often more, but sometimes less. I have slowly lost weight, but m ore importantly I have gotten stronger and have more energy than I ever had before. I love it.
The only problem is that now it's coming. You know 'IT'. NO not the Stephen King book (now that guy is messed up, maybe he needs a few sessions with Chet on the balance board) IT = the big 3-0. Actually I'm kind of looking forward to it. I look and feel better than I have in years. I think it's gonna be huge. People are going to see me at 30 and want to be 30 themselves. They say 30 is the new 20. Well, lets make it 21. I want to toast to it after all. The problem comes in the fact that I set a goal for myself last year that I wanted to be below 200 pound by 30. Yes, that's still a long way to go to my final goal. But still, it's important to me and I want to make it happen. It's just that I'm stalled out at 210 and I only have 25 days left. 25 days, people!
So a few weeks ago I decided it was time to pick up the pace a little. Kind of kick start my metabolism. I am already on the Weight Management Program at Curves, which is really awesome. (I'm still on Phase 2 btw. My trainer says I need to move up to Phase 3 to amp up my mojo, but more on that later) Then I started going to their Pump It Up class which is sort of a high intensity cardio aerobic strength training thing with hip-hop music. I was going once a week and it was awesome. I looked forward to the rush I would get after a class for the whole week. And I think I'm maybe going to start going twice a week, in addition to my regular workouts, just until I hit that 200. It will be hard. But I figure those people on The Biggest Loser workout for 8 hours a day and I am already at some of their goal weights. So working out at a regular pace 3= times a week in addition to 2 high intensity classes should be just fine - if life sucking.
However, back to my original point - finally. This morning's Pump It Up class was different. Previously we had done all these semi-dance moves that kind of made me feel like a really over the hill stripper but gave me a really good workout nonetheless. This morning she changed it to Step It Up. Yes, a step class. Me. The girl who could fall down standing still. Paradoxically I used to be a dancer and can have amazing balance if I focus. The problem is the focus. I seem to have lost that somewhere along the way. It was a lot of step-one-two-three and switch-one-two-three and all that. Plus you change activities every thirty seconds. Well, hell, I would just get one thing down when it was time to switch again. But I stumbled my way through it, with only one stubbed toe and no falls, which is a huge victory for me. Whenever I fall - and I do a lot- it's not just in the privacy of my own home. It's right in the middle of the biggest crowd I could possibly fine so a step aerobics class would be just about right. I didn't though. Knock on wood.
I actually made it through and believe it or not, I'm looking forward to going back next week. That is amazing to me. Just one short year ago I would have been mortified at trying a step class DVD, much less doing it with a group of real live people. Sorry, Chet. But here I am, knock, knock, knockin' on 30's door, and not just doing the seemingly personally impossible but actually looking forward to doing it again.
First I did the Leslie Sansone Walk Away the Pounds DVDs in the privacy of my own home. These were great and I still occasionally employ them on snow days or other tragedies of house arrest.
Then I bought the Wii Fit. Let me just say that that little piece of equipment is for sadists. It comes with a 'balance board' which is unfortunate for one who has no balance. And you get your own on-screen computer generated 'trainer'. I picked the male trainer because by and large I get along better with men and the female trainer looked just a little too perky in her little yoga top and jaunty pony-tail for my tastes. Yes, I know, it's a computer - but still. So I got boy, which even though that's what I often call my brother just didn't seem like a good name for this guy. Turns out boy had a pony-tail too. And yoga pants. Very new age. And to beat it all he seemed to have the patience of someone who has nothing better to do than workout all day. Bastard! I did a few workouts with boy before he finally just pissed me off to no end. Turns out boy is gay. ( a group that I generally have a blast with - like I said, women can be bitches - but this guy was a be-otch of the 1st degree) Again, I know he's a computer. I know. I just don't need that kind of pressure. I named him Chet. It seemed appropriate.
So I joined a real life gym. Curves. I figured it was women only so . . . Yes, I know what I said earlier. But the women at the gym aren't bitches - well, at least not at the gym and that's all I'm concerned about anyway. These women are there for the same reason I am and that kind of makes us sisters (in a we are the world kind of way). And it has been my salvation. I try to go three times a week. Often more, but sometimes less. I have slowly lost weight, but m ore importantly I have gotten stronger and have more energy than I ever had before. I love it.
The only problem is that now it's coming. You know 'IT'. NO not the Stephen King book (now that guy is messed up, maybe he needs a few sessions with Chet on the balance board) IT = the big 3-0. Actually I'm kind of looking forward to it. I look and feel better than I have in years. I think it's gonna be huge. People are going to see me at 30 and want to be 30 themselves. They say 30 is the new 20. Well, lets make it 21. I want to toast to it after all. The problem comes in the fact that I set a goal for myself last year that I wanted to be below 200 pound by 30. Yes, that's still a long way to go to my final goal. But still, it's important to me and I want to make it happen. It's just that I'm stalled out at 210 and I only have 25 days left. 25 days, people!
So a few weeks ago I decided it was time to pick up the pace a little. Kind of kick start my metabolism. I am already on the Weight Management Program at Curves, which is really awesome. (I'm still on Phase 2 btw. My trainer says I need to move up to Phase 3 to amp up my mojo, but more on that later) Then I started going to their Pump It Up class which is sort of a high intensity cardio aerobic strength training thing with hip-hop music. I was going once a week and it was awesome. I looked forward to the rush I would get after a class for the whole week. And I think I'm maybe going to start going twice a week, in addition to my regular workouts, just until I hit that 200. It will be hard. But I figure those people on The Biggest Loser workout for 8 hours a day and I am already at some of their goal weights. So working out at a regular pace 3= times a week in addition to 2 high intensity classes should be just fine - if life sucking.
However, back to my original point - finally. This morning's Pump It Up class was different. Previously we had done all these semi-dance moves that kind of made me feel like a really over the hill stripper but gave me a really good workout nonetheless. This morning she changed it to Step It Up. Yes, a step class. Me. The girl who could fall down standing still. Paradoxically I used to be a dancer and can have amazing balance if I focus. The problem is the focus. I seem to have lost that somewhere along the way. It was a lot of step-one-two-three and switch-one-two-three and all that. Plus you change activities every thirty seconds. Well, hell, I would just get one thing down when it was time to switch again. But I stumbled my way through it, with only one stubbed toe and no falls, which is a huge victory for me. Whenever I fall - and I do a lot- it's not just in the privacy of my own home. It's right in the middle of the biggest crowd I could possibly fine so a step aerobics class would be just about right. I didn't though. Knock on wood.
I actually made it through and believe it or not, I'm looking forward to going back next week. That is amazing to me. Just one short year ago I would have been mortified at trying a step class DVD, much less doing it with a group of real live people. Sorry, Chet. But here I am, knock, knock, knockin' on 30's door, and not just doing the seemingly personally impossible but actually looking forward to doing it again.
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