Support ‘Hos

While support hose are a fabulous invention and worthy of a blog themselves, that’s not what I’m talking about.

The ‘hos I’m referring to are your girlfriends. The women that at a moment’s notice babysit your kid while you run your other kid to the doctor. The ones that listen to you complain about your hair, husband or mother-in-law with sympathy and compassion. The wonderful women that celebrate your successes with enthusiasm and offer a shoulder to cry on during life's inevitable downturns.

These women are a key component to our happiness and research suggests, they’re also a powerful tool in achieving our health goals. Numerous studies have been conducted demonstrating that support from others increases our chances of losing weight and maintaining that weight loss.

A recent study from Stanford University School of Medicine concluded that “Women who ‘never’ experienced family support were least likely to lose weight (45.7% lost weight) whereas women who experienced both frequent friend and family support were more likely to lose weight (71.6% lost weight).” 

Now that February has begun, the shine of our New Year’s Resolutions is probably wearing off. In fact, research suggests that by January 31^st  we will have given up.

If you’re struggling with your healthy resolutions, how about enlisting a friend for support? Join a gym together, agree to walk a couple of times a week, or if you’re really motivated, sign up for the Monument Avenue 10k. You don’t have to run, you can just walk it. I’m doing it this year with my oldest daughter Amanda (14 years old) and my son Grant (11 years old).

Me (in orange) and Lizzie (giving the thumbs up)
as we approach the finish line.

My friend Lizzie got me to actually run it a couple of years ago.

Trying to lose weight and needing a goal Lizzie had signed up for the 10k and asked me if I’d join her. Of course, my immediate response was, “Um, no.” Not because I don’t love her, but because I hate running. Really, really hate running.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she urged me. “It's easy. We don't have to run fast. Please,” she begged. “I need someone to do it with me.”

“Okay, fine,” I said, not at all enthused, but it was for Lizzie and hanging out with her a couple of times a week to jog and chat actually did sound like fun.

Dutifully we trained and to my surprise it actually got easier. We didn’t set any land speed records, but we plodded along and consistently increased the distance we ran every week.

Race day arrived and we were off. Within five minutes of starting, Lizzie pulled a muscle in her hip. Limping and clearly in pain she slowed to a walk/jog.

“Go ahead without me,” she told me. “I’m going to finish, but it’s just going to take me a long time.”

Woo hoo! We did it!

Channeling my best Tom Cruise impersonation from Top Gun I looked at her and said, “I will not leave my wing man.”

After all, this is why I signed up. To help her achieve her goal. I wasn’t about to ditch her in the final hour.

We trotted along, waved to the crowd, enjoyed the live music from the bands lining the street and eventually finished the race, only slightly faster than the 10,000 people walking the course! But we did it. She reached her goal and I helped her. We made a great team.

Everyone needs support ‘hos. I count on Lizzie to get me to my Friday yoga class and I depend on the trainers in the In8 program to maintain my workout routine. I can’t do it alone. You don’t have to either. Find support where you can either with a commercial program or rope in a like-minded family member or friend. You’ll not only have more fun, but statistically, you’ll also more likely to be successful.

Now that’s a win-win!

A Broken Water Heater = Motivation

A new year. A fresh start. This time of year is supposed to be full of optimism and energy. So what’s wrong with me? I can’t seem to get motivated.

A new me? Eh, it can wait, I say. A new gym routine? Ugh, I can’t be bothered. I’d rather sit around in my jammies and watch TV.

Is it the cold weather forcing me into a recluse? Maybe it’s some sort of holiday hangover—a big let-down after months of festivities with friends and family?

I’m not sure but my recent attitude reminds me of Newton’s First Law of Physics: a body at rest tends to stay at rest. 

I needed something to get me back on track. A defibrillator to resuscitate my healthy lifestyle.

Ah...my inspiration. Who knew?

I found it in the most unlikely place: a broken water heater.

Last Friday our hot water heater broke. As of Tuesday morning, we were still washing dishes and brushing our teeth with ice cold water. Feeling guilty about bugging my friends to borrow their shower once again, it finally hit me—I can shower at the gym!

Not willing to enter American Family Fitness solely to use the shower, I attended the 8:15 a.m. cycle class. Afterwards I luxuriated in a ridiculously long hot shower. It was fantastic and it reminded me why I joined the gym in the first place.

Eight years ago and struggling to drop the last ten pounds of pregnancy weight after my youngest child was born, I decided to join a gym. I started slowly, attending pilates and yoga classes, nothing too strenuous. Amazingly, that first month I lost five pounds. I was thrilled that the weight was finally coming off, but what really shocked me was how much I enjoyed going to the gym. My weekly outings brought something into my life I hadn't realized was missing—a sense of freedom.

At that time, my children were aged six, three and one. Like every mom of preschoolers, there were no quiet moments to sip a cup of tea, read a magazine or watch TV. My days were filled with runs back and forth to preschool, nap time, potty training and sprinting through as many errands as possible—the grocery store, the dry cleaners, the bank---before afternoon activities, dinner and bedtime. A really good day was defined by a trip to Starbucks. Sipping a latte in the car was my treat, my little luxury.

And then I joined the gym. At first, I just dropped off my one year old Janelle into the daycare center, went to class, picked her up and went home. But then, noticing that Janelle was fine in daycare, I decided to bring some clean clothes and shower at the gym.

Oh.

My.

God!

For a harried mother of three there was no greater pleasure than showering, getting dressed and fixing my hair and makeup completely ALONE. No little ones crying, whining or tugging on my shirt for attention. It was paradise.

Not only was I losing weight but I had regained some much needed me-time.

Exiting the gym Tuesday, my hair clean and makeup on, I felt fantastic. Ready to take on the day. Just like old times.

Our hot water heater is now fixed (finally!) and yet I’m headed back to the gym today. Not for a hot shower, but because, as I was reminded of yesterday, exercise makes me feel good. It’s time that’s devoted to improving myself and, borrowing a slogan from L’Oreal, because I’m worth it.

Now, don’t make me come and break your water heater. Go find your motivation and get out there. You’re worth it!

A Lesson from Snickers

Snickers playing dress-up with Janelle

My third-grader Janelle is studying animal behaviors in school. Quizzing her yesterday I asked, “What’s instinctual mean?”

“It’s like the Loggerhead sea turtle,” she said. “They’re born and they just know the right thing to do. They’re like, Aaaah, I got to get in the water! Get me to the ocean!”

Perhaps due to our daily drills on the peculiarities of animals I’ve starting paying attention to my dog Snickers’ behavior. And here’s something I noticed.

Every morning, after she jumps down from our bed (yes, we’re those kind of people), she immediately goes into full on yoga-dog mode. Her front legs straight, she pushes them forward while simultaneously dropping her chest to the floor and hiking her butt in the air. A perfect “down dog” posture. Now the name makes sense. (This reminds me of the time I realized why a ponytail was called a ponytail. Staring at a horse’s butt, it hit me, Hey, that’s exactly how my hair looks when I put it in a ponytail. Duh. Sometimes my stupidity surprises even me. But I digress.)

After her "down-dog" stretch, she goes into this one.
I call it "The Superman."

Snickers stretches instinctually. Every morning. I certainly didn’t teach her that. If I was going to train her to do something in the morning it’d be how to make a pot of coffee. She stretches on her own.

Observing her throughout the day I see that she stretches every time she’s been in the same position for a while. How about that. 

My lovely personal trainer from the In8 program, Will, is constantly reminding me to stretch. I leave every session with him calling after me, “Drink plenty of water and stretch, stretch, STRETCH!”

“Okay,” I call back knowing full well I’ll do none of it.

I don’t know why, but stretching just isn’t part of my day. But now, I’m thinking, Snickers might be on to something!

As we age our range of motion decreases and our muscles tighten, making every day activities more difficult. Stretching helps lengthen the muscles and improve flexibility and range of motion. Plus, it reduces the risk of injury to joints muscles and tendons and reduces muscle soreness and tension. And best of all, it feels good!

So this morning I stretched with Snickers and she rewarded my efforts with an energetic face-licking. And, taking another cue from my brilliant canine, I've been stetching after sitting at my desk for a decent length of time.

Snickers has succeeded in breaking through to me where my trainer has failed. What can I say? If Will had big brown eyes, velvety ears and looked at me as if I hung the moon, maybe I’d listen to him too.

Will—you reading this? That whole, worship-your-client look could be a new training technique for you. Just sayin’.

Here are a couple of Web sites that list some good stretches and have photos to guide you.

Basic Stretches

http://www.mayoclinic.com/health/stretching/SM00043

More Advanced Stretches

http://www.bodybuilding.com/fun/stretchname.php

Happy Stretching! Love, Snickers

The Hidden Benefit of Exercise

Weight loss, increased muscle mass, improved mood, more energy, better sleep—these are the often-touted benefits of exercise. And they are of course, true. But there’s a hidden benefit that gets lost in the shuffle. And for me, it’s the reason to do it.

Last weekend, we joined a group of friends at Smith Mountain Lake near Roanoke, Virginia.

Since we were on the lake boating activities dominated our days, especially tubing—being dragged behind a boat at 25 mph on an inner tube. This is surely a punch line to the Jeff Foxworthy joke, “you might be a red neck…,” but we love it anyway.

A seasoned tuber myself, I know that the secret to staying on the thing is balanced weight. (I learned this through years of battle with my father on Clark Hill Lake in Georgia. As the driver of our boat my father’s goal was clear: throw me off the tube, by whatever means possible. My goal: stay on, do not let him win. He always won. Turns out no matter how young and stupid you are, the combination of a 50 hp motor sending the tube, and you, sideways into the wake of a cabin cruiser will always toss you off. In dramatic fashion.)

Even though my father wasn’t driving our boat this past weekend, all drivers have the same evil sense of purpose. As I watched my two daughters climb on the tube, Amanda my soon-to-be fourteen-year-old and Janelle my eight-year-old, it was clear the tube was going to capsize. It leaned dangerously to the left, toward Amanda. There was only one solution. I climbed aboard as well, sandwiching Janelle between Amanda and myself.

Asking our friend Joe, the driver, to please take it easy on us we bounced over the boat wake, careened around corners as he turned the boat and squealed with delight and fear. But we didn’t fall off. (Ah, the beauty of a balanced tube. And a nice driver.)

Our ride ended, Janelle climbed aboard the boat, but Amanda and I stayed on for a more extreme ride. We soared across the wake and bounced through the waves, our arms straining the keep us on the tube, our legs flailing about skimming the surface of the water. Amanda laughed while I screamed like Janet Leigh in the movie Psycho.

Joe couldn’t toss us either.

Later that day I continued my daredevil behavior, opting to ride a jet ski with my friend Mike at the helm. More wake jumping and screaming ensued.

Finally, as an end to the day, I tried water skiing. In my youth I could slalom ski—use only one ski. But that was years ago. Nevertheless, I gave it a shot. To my delight, I popped up behind the boat (on my second try) on one ski. Hallelujah! Cutting back and forth across the wake I felt fantastic. Then my legs turned to jelly, my arms started to burn and I slammed into the water, face first.

I immediately resurfaced, threw up my arms and screamed, “YEAH! I DID IT!”

And that’s my point to this long story. I did it.

Did my muscles ache afterwards, of course, but not excessively.

I know there will come a day when my body really can’t do the things I want it to do, but with consistent exercise I plan on pushing that day as far out into the future as possible.

Your goal may not be to water ski, but being able to carry bags of groceries up the stairs or a sick child to bed are also possible when your body is strong.

It’s the ability to accomplish these every day activities that are the hidden benefits of exercise.

What Was I Thinking?

I hate cardio workouts. And I haven't been shy about exploring this hatred on this blog. (Remember my blog “The Least of Multiple Evils?”)

But I do know that it’s good for me. One of the tenets of the In8 program is that you need cardio and strength training for good health. Honestly though, I don’t do it as often as I should. It’s the one thing that when I get overwhelmed and feel my schedule getting tight, I cancel.

My thought process goes something like this, “Ooh, I have a deadline tomorrow/toothache/hang nail/bad hair day/four unseen episodes of Glee on my DVR, I can’t possibly make that cycling class tonight. I’ll have to skip it.”

Ah yes, my excuses are endless, but creative.

Knowing my propensity to sabotage myself, I suggested to my trainer Marq that we incorporate cardio into my strength training workouts with him. Kill two birds with one stone and all that jazz.

With a sly, evil little grin Marq said, “Sure, we can do that.”

Next thing I know, in between weight lifting exercises, I’m doing Jump Squats. (Squat, touch the ground with your hands and then explode up, jumping as high as you can like you’re trying to dunk a basketball) And some hideous thing called Fast Feet. (This is that football player speed drill where you stand, legs a bit wider than your hips, bend your knees, crouch over a bit and pump your legs up and down as fast as you can.)

After four sets of Jump Squats and four sets of Fast Feet I was hyperventilating.

“You alright?” Marq asked. His voice tinged with genuine concern.

“I’m (gasp) fine. (gasp) Just need (gasp) to catch (gasp) my (gasp) breath,” I wheezed.

As I paced around the room making sure to keep my head above my heart so I wouldn’t pass out, I thought, Who’s bright idea was this? 

Oh yeah, it was mine.

Crap.

This is what I get for not doing cardio on my own. I get Marq standing over me with his stopwatch and telling me to “hit it.”

The upshot though, (yes there are some positives) is that I’m doing interval training—alternating high intensity activities with less intense ones—and according to the Mayo Clinic, there are some big benefits to this.

1.     You'll burn more calories. The more vigorously you exercise, the more calories you'll burn — even if you increase intensity for just a few minutes at a time.

2.     You'll improve your aerobic capacity. As your cardiovascular fitness improves, you'll be able to exercise longer or with more intensity. Imagine finishing your 60-minute walk in 45 minutes — or the additional calories you'll burn by keeping up the pace for the full 60 minutes.

3.     You'll keep boredom at bay. Turning up your intensity in short intervals can add variety to your exercise routine.

4.     You don't need special equipment. You can simply modify your current routine.

Well, I can vouch for number three. My workouts certainly aren’t boring! But the best reason for doing it is number one—you burn more calories. Who doesn’t want that!

Even though it’s killing me and I’m considering packing an oxygen tank into my gym bag, I’m sticking with this interval training thing. 

If you're interested in cranking up your workout, click here for more information on interval training.

Does Gardening Count as Exercise?

My Knockout roses underneath
a cherry tree. I love these. They'll bloom
from now until frost!

The bamboo-like stalks of my Snowbank Boltonia plant have been pruned. The majority of the weeds plucked and disposed of from my flower beds. Two new geraniums planted and watered. And finally, last year’s Mother’s Day gift, a Topsy Turvy for tomatoes is prepared and dangling off my back porch. And yet, there’s still more weeding to do and it’s time to prune my late-blooming azaleas.

Springtime always makes me question my decision a few years ago to bulldoze my boring but low-maintenance flower beds and install a perennial garden. But then my roses bloom. And then comes the pink spirea, yellow daylilies, ornamental grasses, red and purple bee balm, lavender butterfly bush and others and I forget about the hard work. It’s like childbirth. When you’re presented with a beautiful little baby you soon forget about the 36-hours of labor is took to get there.

Shirobana spirea (pink),
gardenia (white), and
Kaleidoscope Abelia (yellow)

After toiling in the yard for a few hours the other day I thought, surely this must count as exercise. I mean, I’m sweating, bending over, squatting, walking back and forth to the garage for various tools. It’s got to count! I pleaded to the exercise gods.

So I looked it up. And the short answer is…no, it doesn’t count.

Drat!

According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) adults need at least 2 hours and 30 minutes of moderate-intensity aerobic activity every week plus, two or more days of muscle-strengthening activities. And my little gardening project doesn’t count toward meeting either of these goals.

In order to qualify as part of my required moderate-intensity workouts I have to get my heart rate up, my breathing needs to be labored and I need to break a sweat.

Well, I was certainly sweating, but that was because it was ridiculously hot. The more relevant fact is, I could still talk, sing, chat on the phone, etc. All signs that the activity really wasn’t that difficult. (This is why shopping and cooking aren't considered exercise either.)

The CDC lists the following as examples of moderate-intensity activities:

•                Walking fast

•                Doing water aerobics

•                Riding a bike on level ground or with few hills

•                Playing doubles tennis

•                Pushing a lawn mower

Next time I think I’ll try speed gardening. Surely zipping around the yard like The Flash will get my heart rate up.

In the meantime, I guess I'll hit the gym and console myself with the knowledge that at least gardening is better than sitting on the couch or being parked in front of the computer. And of course, I get to enjoy my garden. Which is reward enough.

For more information on the CDC guidelines for physical activity, click here.

The Inevitable Fall from Grace

I fell off the wagon. Plummeted, really.

This is why I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions. They’re so difficult to maintain and I hate feeling like a failure. This is also why I deleted the word “obey” from my wedding vows. I had no intention of keeping that promise either.

My challenge in leading a healthy life is always the exercise component. Okay, and the meditation. And now that I think about it, I probably drink way too much wine as well. But the biggest problem, by far, is how easily I let exercise slip, specifically my cardio workouts.

My excuses are varied, quite colorful and sometimes even legitimate.

Like last week, I was staying at a friend’s house on the Chesapeake Bay by myself for a writer’s retreat. I’m working on a book and I needed a bit of solitude to get the creative juices flowing. I wrote and wrote and wrote and it was spectacularly productive, but there was absolutely no exercise involved.

I could have done something, like go for a run or walk down to the bay for a break. But no, instead, to clear my head I chose to watch Atonement, Planet Earth, Bridget Jones’ Diary and Love Actually. (And I have to say, I now have a huge crush on Colin Firth.)

Now the worst part of not exercising has set in—guilt. Well, that and my flabby thighs, but mostly it’s guilt.

If last week was the only time I’d not maintained my exercise routine I wouldn’t worry about it. But honestly, I haven’t even started on my New Year’s resolution to complete two cardio workouts a week.

Finally, I’ve decided that this lackadaisical attitude of mine has to go. So what’s preventing me from getting my now flabby thighs out the door and in to cycling class?

Inertia.

Sir Isaac Newton defined inertia as “every body … endeavours to preserve its present state, whether it be of rest or of moving…”

What Sir Newton is saying is that it’s easier to maintain the status quo than to change. This is why we get stuck in a rut. Because it’s familiar, comfortable. And change is hard, sometimes frightening.

According to Newton, the only way to get unstuck is to apply a force directly to the object. You need a metaphorical kick in the arse. 

So what force could possibly motivate me to change?

Surprisingly, it was a friend of mine. She’s 48 and looks fabulous. I had no idea how old she was until recently and if you’d asked me I would’ve guessed she was 10 years younger.

“Holy crap,” I responded when she told me her age, “You look fantastic.”

“It’s exercise,” she said. “I’m telling you, exercise is the cure-all for aging. Working out several times a week can cover up a lot of other sins.”

Ooh, that’s right. I had forgotten about that. And cardio in particular burns tons of calories.

Sunday, I was back in cycling class, peddling away. It appears that the fear of aging is my motivation. How could I have forgotten that?

If you’re stuck in the status quo or know you’re slipping from your goals, remind yourself why you wanted to lose weight/eat healthier/mediate more and take the first step to get back on the wagon. The hardest part is that first move, getting yourself unstuck. Once you complete that step, you’ll be at a new state of being. And as Sir Isaac Newton noted, you’ll want to stay there.

Ogling is Good For a Man's Health. No, really.

I had to share this news story. 


According to a German research project, men who enjoyed a daily dose of ogling buxom women had lower blood pressure, less heart disease and slower pulse rates compared to those who didn't engage in such activity.


Apparently, sexual excitement increases the heart rate and improves blood circulation, leading Dr. Karen Weatherby, who conducted the study, to suggest that, "Just 10 minutes of staring at the charms of a well endowed female is roughly equivalent to a 30-minute aerobics workout."


She also suggested that the study "indicates that engaging in this activity a few minutes daily cuts the risk of a stroke and heart attack in half."


Uh huh. 


But it quadruples a man's chances of being bludgeoned to death by his spouse or girlfriend, thereby shaving a good thirty years off his life expectancy.


They should study that!

The Danger Zone

I awoke this morning and greeted the day like I normally do, walking sluggishly with squinty eyes, tousled hair and shunning the light like a vampire.

The kids know not to pepper me with questions or ask for anything more complicated than tying a shoe. I'm simply not capable, or, more accurately, willing to help, at least not until I've had one cup of coffee. My sisters are the same way. It's apparently genetic.

After sending my darlings off to school I got down to the very serious business of finishing another cup of coffee and planning my day. The first item on my to-do list was workout. Should I go to the 8:15am cycle class or the 9:30am? I wondered. What I really wanted to do was neither and I could feel myself inching toward blowing off the whole thing.

Then in walks Michael. "You want to shop for the new bathroom vanity?" he asks me.

Ooh, shop instead of cycle, well, let me think about that for a second. Um, yes.

"Okay," I responded, "We can browse online now and I'll go to the 9:30 class."

Knowing myself, knowing that I'd fiddle around until I conveniently missed class, I set the timer on the oven to go off at 9:00am so I could run upstairs and change.

At the appointed hour, the timer dinged. God I don't want to go, I whined to myself. I'd way rather stay here in my jammies, drink another cup of coffee and decide if I want the cherry or mahogany finish on the vanity.

But I went upstairs, changed, and made it to class. Barely, but I was there.

As always, I feel better when I'm done, happy that I made it to my workout.

This experience made me realize that there's a certain point during the morning where if I procrastinate long enough, I'll skip the gym. I coined this, The Danger Zone.

My Danger Zone is between 8am and 9am. By 8am I've already missed the early cycle class and sitting around the house until 9:30am gives me too much time to think of the multitude of reasons why today just isn't a good day to exercise. And believe me, I've got a huge list of excuses—dog needs a bath, I need a bath, laundry's piling up, article deadlines are looming etc. Any one of these has the potential to derail me. And sometimes they do. But more often than not they don't. I begrudgingly take my butt to the gym.

I conquer my lazy-wanna-sit-around-all-day self by asking some hard questions. "Do you really feel like you need a break today or are you just being a slacker?" "Can your to-do list wait an hour or is there a pressing deadline?" (Sometimes I really hate the type-A side of me. She's really annoying.)

But she's right.

If I'm honest with myself, most times I want to skip the gym simply because I don't want to go. I just don't want to go! That's it. Which frankly isn't a good enough excuse and I know it. So I suck it up and I go.

When's your Danger Zone? When do you start piling on the reasons for not working out, convincing yourself that today you simply cannot make time for the gym? Are they legitimate excuses or do you just not want to go?

Hula Dancing. It's the Next Big Thing in Exercise.

Aloha from The Big Island of Hawaii!

Michael and I are enjoying a week-long vacation on The Big Island of Hawaii, and as expected, it's fabulous.

While I have yet to utilize the hotel's fitness center, I have been getting my NEAT on. (Non-exercise Activity Thermogenesis, a/k/a physical activity.) Between sailing, snorkeling, and a full day of hiking through Volcanoes National Park, I've dropped into bed at night happily, but totally exhausted.

And Michael has had a bit of an epiphany out here. My exercise-abhorring husband has finally found an activity that he enjoys. In terms of cardio training, hula dancing apparently sucks the least for him. (play the video below to see him in action.)

Now if I can only get American Family Fitness to offer a class...

The Least of Multiple Evils

I’ve never experienced “runner’s high” or “cyclists’ euphoria.” (Okay, I made that last one up.) But my point is, I’ve never felt exhilarated with any form of cardio workout. I do it because I know I have to, not because I find ecstasy in the activity. I am always most thrilled when it’s over.

Not surprisingly, when my life gets hectic, my cardio workouts fall by the wayside. I maintain my healthy eating and strength training, but cardio, oh no, I don’t have time for that!

Now that school has started, I have no more excuses—at least not legitimate ones—for not doing my cardio training.

“You need to find an activity you enjoy, that way you’re less likely to skip it.” That’s the advice from fitness experts. Yeah, well, smarty pants fitness people, what if you don’t like ANY of that stuff. Then what?

They don't have an answer for me. 

So, I fall back on the advice of Robert, one of Michael’s previous bosses. Robert’s career advice to Michael was, “All work sucks. So find work that pays the most and sucks the least.”

I think that guy missed his calling as a motivational speaker.

Robert’s point is well taken though. For me, all cardio sucks, so I need to pick the one activity that sucks the least.

And the winner is….cycling. 

In the darkened room, I can sit down, close my eyes and get lost in the music. For some reason being able to shut my eyes is important. I’ve tried closing them while running on the treadmill, but things didn’t go well. Definitely don’t try it, unless you like the feeling of almost being catapulted into the wall behind you.

There is still no ecstasy in cycling, but for me, it sucks the least.

The Key to Staying Motivated: A Hot Fitness Instructor

Yesterday I missed my morning workout with my girlfriend. Not a good thing for me since the buddy system is very effective at getting me to the gym. Undeterred I dragged my tired self to the 5:00 pm cycle class.

To my delight, walking in to class I spied with my little eye, a handsome, swarthy cycling instructor. Well, well, well, I thought to myself. Where have you been hiding all this time?

Not wanting to gawk, I quickly walked to the back of the class and set up my bike. Once seated and peddling, I was free to stare unabashedly. He was the instructor for Pete’s sake, I HAD to look at him.

He wore a black sports t-shirt with matching black bike shorts, which set off his jet-black hair perfectly. His bright smile was in stark contrast to the rest of him, lighting up his face like a supernova. (pause here for a dreamy sigh...ahhhh)

For me, he will forever be, The Man in Black.

In a quiet, confident tone, The Man in Black urged us to peddle faster. The class obliged, peddling furiously to maintain the pace he set.

“You’re doing amazing,” he called out. And I’m sure he was looking at me—just me—when he said it. Because I WAS doing amazing. I was peddling hard and pushing myself to keep up.

Never mind the fact that the lights were dimmed so low I could barely see his face. I’m sure he noticed me, even in the low lighting. How could he not? The Man in Black probably has excellent night vision, like a cat, as well as tight biceps and some sweet looking legs.

“Great job. You can do it,” he called out. There he was, talking to me again, urging me to try harder.

And I did.

Forty-five exhausting minutes later, I exited the room. “Thanks for coming,” The Man in Black said directly to me.

“Sure. Thanks.” I offered, not looking at him. You know, ‘cuz I wanted to be cool and not act like a giddy school girl.

Instead, being the mature adult that I am, I went home and cyber-stalked him. I looked online at the cycling schedule to see what days he teaches. Too bad it’s only once a week. It’d be way easier to reach my fitness goals if he was there more often.

Movement Is A Nutrient

I’m too tired. It’s too hot. My knee hurts. I have to go grocery shopping. The dog needs to go to the vet. Three books are due at the library.

The excuses I come up with for not going to the gym are varied, sometimes highly creative, but they all share a common theme: they are baseless. It’s just me rationalizing my decision to skip a workout.

Sticking to a structured exercise routine is hard for me. The slightest deviation from the status quo, a sick child at home or travel, has the capacity to derail my workout schedule for weeks.

Recognizing this, I consistently look for ways to keep me on track. Whether it’s planning to go to the gym with a friend, purchasing a cute workout top, or downloading some new songs, I’m always trying to mix it up and keep myself motivated.

Talking to my sweet personal trainer Marq about my challenges, he suggested the following: “Think about movement as something your body needs, like water, or vitamins. Just like you feed your body fruits, vegetables, whole grains and lean proteins to function properly, you need to give your body exercise. Think of movement as a nutrient.”

Ooh, I thought. That’s good.

Movement is a nutrient. Now that’s an interesting concept.

For some reason, this explanation has greater appeal than simply telling me to exercise “because it’s good for me.” That rationale rarely works on me. Maybe it harkens back to my childhood, being forced to eat Brussels sprouts, broccoli casserole, and meatloaf because they were “good for me.” Maybe as an adult I’m retaliating against those meals, asserting my power to make my own decisions. I will not eat Brussels sprouts because they are good for me, I tell myself. I can do what I want. Maybe that’s it. Maybe I don’t like being told what to do, even if it is “good for me.” Or maybe I’m just weird. (Um, yeah, that’s probably it.)

Whatever the reason, this subtle shift in thinking about exercise works for me. And it boils down to the word “need.” My body needs movement. It needs exercise to survive and thrive. Forget about what’s good for me, this is about necessity.

Well, since you put it that way… I guess I’ll go to the gym.

Are You Supposed to Cry in Cycling Class?

Once, about three years ago my sister talked me in to taking a cycling class at her gym. Twenty minutes in, sweat dripping off me, and gasping for air, I found myself performing the Lamaze breathing technique to calm myself. Without a thought to the impression I was giving my fellow cyclists, I got up and walked out. I couldn’t take it.

Now it’s my friend Suzanne that’s trying to coax me in to a class. “You’ll love it,” she insisted. “It’s a great workout and half of our neighbors are in there. It’s like happy hour.”

Still stinging from my initial experience, I evaded her overtures. “Um, yeah, I don’t know. I’ll think about it,” I hedged.

But she kept pushing and since I have trouble saying “no” to peer pressure, I caved.

Joining Suzanne in the back of the class, I asked the instructor for help in setting up my bike. Thankfully she was no “John the Jerk” and cheerfully welcomed me and showed me how to adjust the bike. (See John, that’s how it’s done. It’s called KINDNESS.)

Does Redecorating Count As Exercise?

Ah, summer. A time for flip flops, beach trips, hot weather, cool drinks, and home improvement projects. At least that’s what’s happening in my house.

Michael and I promised the kids we’d repaint their rooms and now seemed like a good  time. Amanda, tired of her headache-producing neon green and blue color scheme, would like a more peaceful blue. Yeah, no kidding. Grant has outgrown the adorable, but babyish spaceship themed wallpaper. And Janelle would, of course, like something pink.

So far we’ve moved furniture, vacuumed, washed walls and baseboards, stripped wallpaper, and scraped wallpaper adhesive off the ceiling. Yes, the ceiling. The previous owners put a blue, starry wallpaper on the ceiling. It looked really cute, until we decided to remove it. I have plenty of words to describe it now and “cute” is not one of them.

I'm a Rock Star. Well, At Least in My Own Mind.

Under duress from Lee Ann Magnus at the Advanced Wellness Centre, I agreed to run the Connect Corporate 4-Miler last night as part of their team.

She caught me in a weak moment. Actually she approached me in the waiting area of the Centre, in front of the office staff and several patients. Talking loudly and with great enthusiasm, she asked me to participate in the race. It was like getting caught on the Kiss-Me-Cam at a sporting event. With everyone’s eyes on me, of course I agreed. I’ve never been able to effectively handle peer pressure. (I hope my kids aren’t reading this. If you are, I expect better from you. Now go read a book or cure cancer or something!)

It’s Just 8 Songs

There’s a reason I never did interval training before. I don’t like running or sweating. The only thing that appeals to me about the cardio workout is its short duration—only thirty minutes.  So I go to the gym, and I run, staring at the clock as it counts down until the torture stops. Thirty minutes to go, twenty-nine, twenty-eight...

I’ve realized this obsession with the clock does not, in fact, make the time go faster. I’m convinced it actually triggers some kind of Lost phenomenon. There’s a large flash of light, I’m transported to an alternate timeline, and the clock displays—thirty minutes to go. Arrrrgggg.

Get Into the Groove

The title of this blog takes me back to my college days, dancing in clubs with Madonna’s song Get Into the Groove blasting through the air. I owe her a huge debt of gratitude. Her music kept me from gaining the Freshman-15. Well, her and my best friend and dance partner, Ben. We danced atop the enormous speakers at the Limelight club, various tables and bars around the city, and sometimes even on the floor. (Can you hear my heavy nostalgic sigh?)

DOMS

Delayed Onset Muscle Soreness (DOMS) is an actual medical condition and I’m convinced I have the worst case ever recorded in the history of mankind.

Since I am now the poster child for DOMS, I’m going to rename it OMGMFLAKM—Oh My God, My Freakin’ Legs Are Killing Me.

Shhhh, Don't Tell Marq

Today was the first time I did the lower body workout with Marq, and, just between you and me, I’m not that sore. The first couple of times I did my cardio training (that blasted running thing) my body kind of freaked out about, you know, MOVING. But this old bod rebounded pretty quickly and since then, it hasn’t been that bad.