Resolution Debacle?

So how's that resolution going? Meh? Not so good??

Well, here it is, a random Thursday in mid-January, your opportunity to decide whether you really wanted to do that thing or not.

If you did, now would be the time - before a whole new year drifts by like sugar through a slice of swiss cheese. The days are slipping away. Quickly. These are the only ones you've got whether you like it or not. How do you want to spend them? With or without the change you had hoped to make?

Maybe you should get one of these things. A wristwatch that counts down to the end of your life. I kind of like the idea. Maybe I'll get one. Makes the days matter. 

www.mytikker.com

If you didn't really want to do it - that resolution thing - forget you ever made the wish (because that's what it was... a wish), and let go of it. In June, don't think longingly of how great you'd feel if you'd eaten better this year. In December, don't get pissed about the same 10 or 80 pounds all over again. It's there. Being pissed at yourself does nothing at all except make you miserable.

Be your glorious self as you are and enjoy your body without regret, or DO something different - something, anything, something small: one piece of fruit per day, one walk around the block at lunch.

It's January 22nd. Don't waste time wishing. Do it, or forget about it and enjoy what you've got.

Tick Tock!!

Resolution Revamp

Whoever decided January 1st should be the day we all dust off and try to become new and improved hasn’t visited the sunken hole in my couch that appears every winter, filled with wool blankets, microwave popcorn, and smudged dark chocolate.

Winter is a time for hibernation and rest. It’s a time to recharge, not to jump up at 5 a.m. in sub-zero temperatures and hit the park for boot camp. When it’s cold outside, our bodies naturally yearn for hot, hearty, nurturing food, not un-ripened, rock-solid fruit that’s been shipped from far-flung tropical climates.

As a personal trainer, I get a lot of phone calls in January from well-meaning people who are ready to “get to it! lose some weight!” But most of them slip away within about six weeks, and that’s being generous. They misplace their ability to find the GPS co-ordinates of the gym somewhere around the third week of the month, arriving late or not at all.

My work is most rewarding when people come to me, ready to make a significant change, and devote themselves to the long process of transformation—come what may. Breakthroughs like that come from the inside. They aren’t generally triggered by an external, predetermined event like New Year’s Day.

For most people, the resolve to change comes after many months or years of struggle with seemingly insurmountable, destructive habits. The impulse comes at the moment they can’t tolerate feeling crappy anymore, a lot crappier than they used to. It comes when they can’t bear another day squeezing into clothes that don’t fit and eating enough for two in front of the TV at night, before reprimanding themselves and curling up in bed to sleep it off.

It feels good to get moving after the holidays, to eat a little cleaner and drink a little less. It’s an ordinary, reasonable thing to do, and most people start to feel better after a week or so. With that relief, comes forgetfulness. We turn our attention back to regular life. Any big goals we set over the holidays wither and flatten like sparkling wine in a confetti-embossed, plastic champagne glass.

The air reeks with failure during January and February. The dropping of New Year’s resolutions is a cultural norm. We all do it. Late-night television hosts joke about it along with the rest of us. Just recently, I realized that I utterly failed at my objective to cook one new healthy recipe per week in 2013. I made one recipe—one out of fifty-two. Total fail. And, what’s worse, I didn’t even notice until 11 months later.

To make a real change, it’s best not to attach new behavior to the turning of the year. Begin building new habits in January if you want, but be prepared for the arrival of spring before the new routine becomes second nature. Know that your resolve will weaken. Your muscles will ache, and bones will creak as you begin to move. Your body will cry out for relief in the first days and weeks as you try to kick sugar, cheese, or cigarettes. Expect to rage against yourself, and find someone you can call or text to hold you accountable as you face the anonymous lure of sundown each night.

Make your change on December 28th or February 6th. Do it on a day when you feel like you have no choice. Do it because you’ll lose touch with the person you want to be going forward if you don’t.

Do it because it’s time, not because it’s New Year’s Eve.

(This story appears in the Jan/Feb 2014 issue of The East Nashvillian)

Why Eating Nuts Might Save Your Life... And Keep You Skinny Too

There's a whole lot of health-related, mortality and longevity-related stuff going on in my family lately. It's too much to go into now, but I will say that I feel too young for this crap. I'm sure I'll sound off about it soon, but in the meantime, I want to bring your attention to a study that came out in the New England Journal of Medicine this week about an easy - stupid-easy - way to live longer, healthier and thinner. It's a good one, and you're going to like it.

Nuts. Yep, nuts. 

Researchers looked at results from two massive studies covering 120,000 men and women over the course of 30 years, and they concluded that eating one ounce of nuts (any kind of nuts) every day, seven days a week, can lower your chance of dying within the next 30 years from heart disease, cancer, or any other cause by 20 percent. If you look at heart disease alone, it can lower your chances of dying by 29 percent. 

This is not a small finding. It's a big deal. These are crazy, incredible results, and the studies are extremely well-respected.

Not only do the nuts keep you from dying, they also keep you from gaining weight. The people in the study who ate more nuts had "lower waist circumference, less weight gain, and decreased risk of obesity."

I've been telling my clients forever that nuts are one of the best snacks they can carry with them to work or the gym. They are packed with fiber, protein, and all kinds of good juju. You've probably heard that nuts are fatty and will make you pack on the pounds. Well, here is hard scientific proof that they won't.

The only caveat is salt. Roasted or raw, whatever you do, don't buy salted nuts. It's the salt that makes you want to eat too many, thereby taking the fat and calories way up over the top. "Honey roasted" goes on that list too. Just say no to honey roasting.

So grab a handful of nuts. Everyday. It's good medicine.

All I Ever Needed From Dick

(This story appeared in the November 14, 2013 issue of The Nashville Scene)

When I was three months pregnant, my best friend Lonnie called to tell me that she was going to get married in a few months — at my ex-boyfriend Dick's house in Los Angeles.

Dick isn't just any old ex-boyfriend. He's the kind of guy who locks you in a room with your favorite European chocolate, lights a bottle of vodka on fire, and watches you burn as you labor to escape, yet simultaneously ache for more.

I couldn't really be upset about her choice of venue. Dick has a fabulous house — Lonnie wanted to get married poolside, and he has a beautiful pool — and it wouldn't cost a penny. Also, Lonnie had known Dick longer than she'd known me. In fact, she and I met through him. When Dick and I ended things, I warned him I would be claiming Lonnie in the breakup. There was not a chance in hell that I would miss her wedding.

I met Dick when I was 23, and he catapulted me into adulthood with blind force. He was older and worldlier, aloof but passionate, tall, dark, Italian, blue-eyed and foul. He taught me about fancy cheese and Spanish wine.

But for our entire two-year relationship, he refused to introduce me to his family and friends, instead keeping me stashed in his apartment for warmth. I lost myself, catering to his every whim in the vain hope that he would let me in, but there was never enough space.

Through it all, Lonnie was at the periphery, discreetly helping me cobble together a delicate but sturdy shack of courage and conviction, a structure that would shield me from total collapse when I made the inevitable — yet devastating — decision to step away from him.

It ended badly, as all flaming failures should. Many years later, here I was: older, living in a different state, married to a different man, six months pregnant and waddling into my best friend's wedding at my ex-boyfriend's house.

I wore a floor-length floral dress and 4-inch wedge heels. I walked in with my swollen belly — and boobs — held high, on the arm of my kind, generous new husband, who gloriously stood a full inch taller than my tall Italian ex.

I buttressed myself with tasks: running around, helping Lonnie into her dress, baking hors d'oeuvres, and taking care of the rings. My husband was stoic, enduring the awkwardness with cool-headed class and claiming his rightful place as the guy who got the girl. I armed myself with my one doctor-approved glass of wine and focused laser attention on the lovely bride. All was going swimmingly until just before the wedding, when I had to take a piss.

I ran inside while the guests assembled in the backyard by the pool. While I stood in the hallway, waiting for the bathroom, Dick rounded the corner, and our eyes met. He looked at me softly, and with pity, which was not exactly the response I was hoping for. Jealousy, wistfulness or even resentment would have been nice. Yet, there I was, standing in his hallway — bulbous and bloated, bound by my compressed bladder — holding a plastic cup of red wine filled to the brim, desperately pinching my knees together.

Nodding at my wine, then my belly, he said, "That's quite a pour. All you need is a mirror and a line, and you'll be all set."

Nice. How very 1996 Los Angeles of you, Dick.

Then he said, "Use the bathroom in my bedroom."

I paused, hesitant to enter his den of iniquity. But I really had to go.

"Go on," he prodded.

Slowly, carefully, so as not to spill my precious vat of wine, I squeezed past him, my belly brushing him lightly as he stood aside in the narrow hallway.

His bedroom reeked of the past, and his immense bathroom overflowed with exotic, unfamiliar cosmetics and powders belonging to his woman of the moment. After relieving myself, I ran my fingers over the small white tiles surrounding the sink. It was a world I used to crave. At 23, I wanted nothing more than to be a small speck in Dick's inner sanctum, and here I was, large — quite large — a pregnant stranger peeing in his toilet. I laughed out loud and borrowed a lip gloss from the makeup bag spilling out over the counter.

Dick's bemused smirk from our brief reunion hadn't stung like I'd thought it might. I realized how seductive disdain and delirium were in my early 20s, and how worthless they were to me now.

I returned to my seat by the pool and tucked myself under my husband's arm.

At the end of the night, with Lonnie married off, I kissed her goodbye, knowing that she would be at my side when the baby came. I thanked Dick for treating us all to such a wonderful evening and walked out the door, under the palm trees and through the wrought-iron gate.

Dick was a good time once. He was an exercise in finding my voice and learning to break free of destruction, but most importantly, he brought me my best friend, my Lonnie. She was the prize.

She was all I ever needed from Dick.

What Is Your Fitness Age?

Check out this fitness calculator. It tells you your "fitness age" based on your actual age, how much and how hard you exercise, your waist measurement, and your resting heart rate. It's rare for this kind of calculator to take physical activity into account, not just your current weight and measurements. It's posted by the Norwegian University of Science and Technology, and you know how those crazy Norwegians are... the happiest, most prosperous people on earth. 

So, I'm inclined to believe this lovely, little calculator, plus they spell it kalkulator which is really how it should be, don't you think??

P.S. It also tells you your approximate VO2max score, a measure of aerobic fitness or how efficiently you use oxygen. If you want to put that score in context, check out this chart.

This Fitness Model Wants to Know, "What's Your Excuse?" for Your Average Body

A controversy exploded online recently over a California mom of three who posted the following photo on her facebook page:

Photo of Maria Kang by Mike Byerly

People freaked out when they saw this image. They accused her of fat-shaming women, being a bad mom and a bad person. I came across the story in this article on Yahoo. She's a fitness model, a former beauty queen, and a small business owner, and she claims she posted the image to provide inspiration for other women struggling with their weight. She says she wanted to encourage people to take responsibility for their own behavior and acknowledge the degree to which they are responsible for the state of their own bodies.

Okay - I take her at her word, and I certainly would never accuse her of being a bad mom or person for making a commitment to fitness in her own life. Clearly, she has done a great job! I have no issue with her desire to inspire. She makes part of her living off of trying to do just that and playing into the winds of the fitness industry, as do I.  I agree that, thankfully, we have a great deal of power over our own lifestyle choices, but that is where our similarities end.

At the core of the statement "What's your excuse?" is the assumption that we all strive to look like her, to be extraordinarily fit. It assumes that beauty is our highest ideal, rather than health. 

Putting aside all of the reasons why many people actually can't physiologically achieve that level of fitness (health problems, genetics, access to healthy food), even if we all could, would we want to? Would I want to get up at 6 a.m., do burpees and lunges while my kid hangs out at the playground, and never-ever watch TV as she does? Not really.

I exercise to maintain physical and emotional balance, not to achieve a predetermined, ideal image of a woman's body. I take no issue with Maria's choices in her own life and with her impulse to inspire others to better health, but I do think she is lost in a glorified, fitness mindset and a way of thinking about those of us who aren't striving for that particular "look." She presupposes that we are missing something and that we would be happier or more fulfilled if we lived life like she does. She presumes that we need an "excuse."

I walked in to the gym this morning, trying to think my way through her message and the explosion of responses she has received. I looked around the room at people of all shapes and sizes - women in particular - plugging away at the elliptical machines and weight benches, and I was actually moved to tears. These people were making an effort. They were there to take care of themselves, and they were both beautiful and lumpy in their sweaty spandex. 

What's missing from Maria's off-the-cuff question, "What's your excuse?", is an acknowledgement that beauty and health come in multitudes of shapes and sizes.

My clients, and the women of Body Baggage, work extremely hard to improve their health every day. Obesity causes physiological changes in the mind and body, and it's not always as easy as "deciding" to get in shape. (See previous posts on how difficult these changes can be and how to think about overcoming them here and here.)

Most of us are putting in a good faith effort to be healthy every day. Could we do more? Definitely, yes. Do we need an "excuse" for not dedicating our energies to being beauty queens? No. Most definitely not.

Five Reasons to Give Yourself a Break at the Gym

Photo - www.fitfluential.com

As a trainer, I hear a lot of not-so-convincing excuses for skipping workouts. Most of them are just that - excuses - but below are a few that totally justify giving yourself a break. 

1. You ache. – Your body hurts. There is fatigue in your bones so deep that your eyes burn at the thought of stillness and silence. Sleep. Rest. Your risk of injury is much higher when you and your muscles are spent.

2. You lost your keys twice this morning and poured orange juice on your cereal. – If you are spinning out, frazzled beyond recognition, and making it to the gym is PART OF THE ROUTINE, DAMN IT!!! Stop. Take a walk. Take as many walks as you can. Even 10 minutes will give you space to reorganize your thoughts.

3. Spin class blows. - You hate it. All your friends love it. You’ve tried, but you still hate it. Forget spin, and move on. Find something you love, but, whatever you do, don't give up! Just because you hate one type of exercise does not mean you will hate them all. You just need to find your perfect match.

4. Your Mom or your best friend just died. – Grieve and rage and be relieved. Go home, stare at the ceiling, and then take a trip somewhere. Go to Machu Picchu. Make her favorite sugar cookies. The gym is irrelevant immediately after a significant tragedy or loss, but, in the long run, exercise can help pull you through the grief and back into balance. Get back to it when you're ready.

5. You had a baby this week. – Give it a month or two. Listen to your doctor. Move as much as she says you can. Get out for fresh air as often as you can, and bring the baby. Get through the initial months of exhaustion, shock, and amazement. Life will return to normal eventually, and when you're ready to prioritize time for physical fitness again, you will know it.

One reason not to give yourself a break: 

You don’t feel like it. - If you allow yourself to skip workouts whenever you don't feel like it (and if you're anything like me), you will skip week-after-week, until you can't remember the last time you went to the gym. Deep down, we all have a pretty good idea whether we have a legitimate reason to take it easy or if we would really rather just have a snooze.

So when you are deciding whether to turn left toward home or right toward the gym, make sure to ask yourself if your reason for heading home is good enough or if it is just another excuse - and then (9 times out of 10), take a right.

How Joan Didion Taught Me to Respect My "Lard Ass" Just the Way It Is

Photo: Brigitte Lacombe, NYmag.com

Joan Didion wrote: 
“Self-respect is a discipline, a habit of mind that can never be faked but can be developed, trained, coaxed forth.”  

I hereby raise my right hand, place my left on a first edition copy of Slouching Towards Bethlehem, and declare that this is the gospel truth.  It is possible to break the cycle of self-inflicted trash talk that leaves you beaten and bleeding and nurture a new normal that lifts you up. 

For over a decade, my “habit of mind” was as follows: “Lard ass.  Who do you think you are? Somebody special? Everybody knows you aren’t funny. Nobody wants you at that party anyway - you and your fat ass. Don’t even dream you’ll get through the night without losing your train of thought mid-sentence or inhaling a steaming pile of deep-fried cheese sticks. What a joke. Go home and make love to your couch. You’ll be better off.”

I was a master - a shining example of how to tear yourself down to nothing.  “Skinny” was the goal, and anything short of skinny meant I was a failure.  Being a failure meant I might as well resign myself to stuffing my face with the blinds pulled down every night.  At least I wouldn’t be hungry.  I had it all worked out.

Skinny was my particular objective, but it doesn’t really matter what the unmet goal is.  Everybody has his or her own personal measuring stick – talent, education, fashion – whatever it is, you are convinced you don’t have enough of it.  The deficit lodges in your skull and screams at you.  It is the thing you flog yourself with mercilessly on a daily basis, and everything else in your life suffers because of it.

The happy news is that if you should find yourself in this situation, with a “habit of mind” such as this, by default you have become very skilled at training yourself to believe your own thoughts. You just happen to be choosing destructive ones.  Whether they originated with a parent, a bully at school, an ex-lover, or in your very own mind, you are the one keeping those thoughts alive now. The situation is under your control.

If you’re crazy good at convincing yourself that you suck and you’ve been at it for years, you’re likely pretty persuasive by now.  And if you’re an expert at self-manipulation, there’s no reason you can’t be just as good at convincing yourself that you are perfectly capable of rocking the workout, the dress, the job interview, and the party - all on the same day.

There is a way to “develop, train, and coax” the mind by repeatedly, almost ritualistically, nurturing healthier thoughts and disregarding destructive ones. The first and most important step is to distinguish between the two. Then keep vigil, taking note of the moments when you feel grounded and strong - sustaining those and rejecting unfounded beliefs that reinforce suckiness where no suckiness exists. Reject them as bull-honky because that's what they are.

You would never treat your best friend this way. So why treat yourself worse than you would treat someone you love? Do what you would do for her. Refocus on the positive and the possible.

           

Boosting a positive “habit of mind” requires shaking things up a bit, doing things that make you feel good about yourself or make your heart race. Take a solo trip to Costa Rica for two weeks to learn how to surf. Bring flowers from your garden to a neighbor, or foster a homeless pup. Tell your roommate – once and for all – that it really pisses you off when she steals your parking space and your f*&#ing girl scout cookies.

           

Getting skinny would never have fixed anything for me in and of itself.  I had to change the way I approached the perceived inadequacy. I had to find something productive to do rather than fixating on what I didn't like about myself. I needed to exercise to feel stronger and eat better to clear my head. A decade of trying to get thinner led nowhere but higher on the scale. Bonus – when I finally decided to do some things that made me feel better, I lost weight because I wasn’t busy medicating low self-esteem with food.

I had to learn that skinny chicks don’t possess any more self-respect than fat chicks and that my own dignity should have nothing to do with my weight.  I know skinny-minis who smoke, cry in their cocktails, and spend hours getting ready to go out because they think they look ugly in everything.  And I know voluptuous powerhouses who complete triathlons and eat tomatoes out of their own gardens.  

Self-respect is about taking care of yourself and others, making choices that make you a little better, a little stronger, a little healthier everyday.

As a personal trainer. I hear people all the time pining away for weight loss, love, a better house, a better job – fill in the blank – as days and years pass them by.  Those are fine goals to have, but none of those external things will lead to genuine happiness.  Only self-respect will do that... being someone you can be proud of every day of your life whether or not money, true love, or mini-skirts are in your future.

Joan Didion believes that there is a method - a concrete, tangible way out - and so do I.

Your thoughts are yours. Own them. Coax the good ones forth.

The Most Ridiculous, Discouraging Weight Loss Headline of the Year:

OBESE STOMACHS TELL US DIETS ARE DOOMED TO FAIL

-Science Daily

This headline by Science Daily is shamelessly pimped out to get traffic without any regard for the millions of people who will click on it and quit reading before they reach the end of the article, believing they have found yet another reason to give up once and for all on getting healthy and losing weight. Worse, it's not even an accurate representation of the science that appears at the heart of the article. 

Come, all ye fatties, and feed on the trough of inadequacy. 

And did they have to use an image of a stomach that looks like a big, sweaty dude at a wedding reception, torn between sidling up to the dessert table or the hotel concierge? Even if people are "doomed to fail" at losing weight, it doesn't mean they have no sense of style... or clothing size for that matter. Obesity doesn't have to look like that.

If you read on, the message is certainly discouraging but doesn't exactly rise up to condemn us all to a lifetime of collapse and decay. It goes on to say that - in people who have consumed a high-fat diet for extended periods - the nerves and hormones that kick in to tell us we are full are not working properly.  The problem persists even after people have changed their diets and lost weight - maybe permanently, but maybe not. More studies are needed.

No doubt, it's depressing. The study was funded by the National Health and Medical Research Council. These people are legit - but if you read the study like Science Daily does and look at it through the end-of-times perspective they present in their headline, you'd be led to believe that if you've ever been fat and would like to live slimmer, you are DOOMED TO FAIL. Awesome.

It's a bullshit reading of the implications of the science, and whoever titled this article should be ashamed of him/herself.

The news coming out of this study is actually extremely helpful. It lets us know what we're up against. Without that information, without realizing that the messages traveling to our brains have fallen down on the job, we don't have a shot in hell of trying to combat it. If we press on, unconscious of the facts, Science Daily is right, we are doomed.

But if we lean on this knowledge, we can find a new way to define hunger and fullness - because what these scientists are really talking about is satisfaction - and there is definitely a middle ground between hunger and satisfaction.

Generally, for people with normal brains and stomachs, this precarious middle ground can be found about halfway through a meal. They are no longer starving but want to keep eating, looking for that magical sensation of satiety, fullness, and peace. Pretty much everybody blows right on past this halfway point - hyperspeed pasta party - in search of that glorious release. We are not accustomed to paying attention to this middle sensation, stopping to look for it, but if we want to lose weight, we have no choice but to get up close and personal with it.

What I take from this study is that obese and formerly-obese people should understand that the message to stop eating may not kick in for them soon enough. If your brain and stomach aren't connecting right, you can't rely on them. 

The loss of that feeling of satisfaction is something worth mourning. It is a very real loss, but it most definitely does not mean that you or your diet are "doomed to fail." It means you have an extra hurdle to jump.  And having this information gives you a whole hell of a lot more power than you had before you knew it. 

If we understand that our brains will consistently tell us to eat more than we need, maybe we have a fighting chance of doing something about it.

Try looking for that different sensation. Look for the middle ground. Look for "not being hungry" rather than being "satisfied." They are two very different things. And plan ahead so you do get eat to "satisfaction" once a week, or twice a week, or however many times you need to feel sane. Look forward to it. Choose those times and savor them, but the rest of the time - the rest of the normal, daily, boring time - eat until you are not hungry instead of eating until you're full.

And use studies like this to shape your strategy rather than beat yourself down. Before we buy into inflammatory, misleading headlines, we need to dig a little deeper and see how we can use the information to our advantage. Or just ignore the static. 

Don't let flashy, traffic-driven headlines determine whether you win or lose. And make sure to show up at the wedding looking and feeling sleek and confident, no matter what size you are.

Science Daily, your headline sucks. Next time, give us a little credit.

SLEEP, PEOPLE!

With all the dietary changes, exercise classes, new recipes and weekly menu planning that we do in pursuit of better health, we forget that the most basic thing could be keeping our weight loss goals and overall wellbeing beyond our grasp: SLEEP.  Most of us desperately need more sleep and downtime with screens turned off.

I am guilty as charged. I find myself, several times a week after midnight, staring bleary-eyed at my computer or TV, trying desperately to grab onto a few extra minutes of non-work, non-family "me time." But it's actually not "me time" because when I finally snap out of it, I realize that I have been lost for hours in the clutches of ebay or Bravo. It is distracting, stimulating and totally unproductive - the opposite of restful.

The New York Times published an article recently about the impact of sleep on weight gain. Basically, scientific studies have shown that when we are sleep deprived, we crave fatty, sugary, high-calorie food.  There's no debate about that, and, on top of those cravings, now we know that lack of sleep also disables the prefrontal cortex, the rational, decision-making part of the brain that helps us make measured, healthy decisions.  It's a one-two punch: cravings for crappy food combined with an inability to make rational decisions.  If you've started your day with too little sleep, you are valiantly fighting a losing battle.

The only way around it is to be proactive. Figure out what time you would like to be asleep and turn the screens off an hour in advance. Settle in to a good book, a trashy magazine, a cup of herbal tea, or a hot bath. Stretch, or take a gentle walk around the block. Whatever you do, don't pay bills or try to get any work done.

Like I said, I'm guilty as charged.  So this week and next, I'm going to give it a go. Screens off by 10:30. Precious sleep by 11:30. If I can do that... oh, the places I'll go.