Cheese dip.
June 24, 2008
I actually had to look back at my previous posts to make sure I hadn’t submitted one on cheese dip before. I was shocked that I hadn’t. It’s basically a staple in my life. I would be nowhere without it. I’d also be skinny without it, but that would require giving it up, and that simply is not an option.
I am talking about the cheese dip you order at a dive-y Mexican restaurant. The kind that comes in a piping hot bowl with a layer of oil rolling around on top of it. The kind you sink ten thousand chips into without thinking twice about it. The kind that makes your stomach ache with pain because you’ve eaten a portion that could feed all of Ethiopia.
Today, I had that kind of cheese dip for lunch.
A glorious day. A glorious lunch.
Viva Mexico! Viva cheese dip!
Bathing suits.
June 11, 2008
Bathing suits and I have a love-hate relationship. I love them when I’m in shape and feeling good. And, they seem to love me too, at that point. On my honeymoon, I actually donned a string bikini. Maybe I was high on love, but I was feeling very Bo Derek-esque on that trip.
When I’m out-of-shape and feeling frumpy, however, the hate factor kicks into high gear. Today, I am not so much Bo Derek. I am more “mother of a nine-month-old, who had a C-section, nursed for seven months, and got thyroid disease somewhere in the mix.”
Yesterday, I tried on bathing suits…and today I started a lettuce and water diet.
Walking into the dressing room was challenge enough—coming to terms with the fact that I was about to squeeze my pastey-white curves into a tiny piece of Lycra. The actual act of doing it about put me over the edge. I went for the one-piece, as my mid-section has more rolls than a bakery right now. I chose a pattern that “accentuated the face” (according to the tag). What the tag didn’t say was that the suit would also accentuate my inner thigh area, simply because there was nothing to cover it. And, that the V-neckline would show-off my now pancake boobs (what did I think was going to happen with a 15-pound kid hanging off of my nipples for seven months?). I didn’t dare look at my hind-parts. God knows what kind of accentuating was going on back there.
Clearly, the bathing suit manufacturers need to go back to the origin of the word “suit.” A suit, my friends, covers the entire body!
Out of sheer necessity, I did leave the store with a bathing suit. My maternity suits are, thankfully, way too big and the Bo Derek bikini isn’t quite going to cut it this year. You’ll find me in the face-accentuating one-piece…and a lovely cover-up to go along with it.
MUFA.
June 3, 2008
One of my friends (who is also one of my Boot Camp instructors) sent me an email this morning about MUFA. When I first saw the email, I assumed it was one of those humorous acronyms, like FUPA or FUBAR. My Boot Camp brain immediately went to “Move Ur Friggin’ Ass” and “My Underwear Found Ass-crack.”
So, I was a bit surprised to find out that MUFA actually stands for monounsaturated fatty acids, otherwise known as good-for-you-fats. These are the fats that protect you from chronic disease and help you lose fat around the middle. The Anti-FUPA fats!
Oils, nuts and seeds, avocado, olives, and chocolate. Eat one serving of any of these at each meal and you’ll be on your way to a flatter belly, according to “The Flat Belly Diet.”
Eat too many at one sitting, though, and you’ll be on your way to Boot Camp…with me. Those chocolate covered peanuts did me wrong. Apparently, the reverse effect of MUFA is MUFfin-top (rolls of flesh spilling over the waistline of your trousers).
Flat belly, my ass. I have been MUFA-ing it up for years to no avail. Guacamole with my chips, olives in my martinis, chocolate with more chocolate. Hello! What seems to be the problem?
The magical MUFA has transformed my body alright. Into what, remains the question.
Bathroom.
May 6, 2008
How long do you think a person—a woman—can last without going to the bathroom? A few hours? Maybe half a day? Today I prayed that I would learn how to pee standing up. No, this is not me suffering from penis-envy or anything like that. I’m perfectly content with my pieces and parts. What it is, is me suffering from the most extraordinary muscle pain ever, courtesy of yesterday’s Boot Camp (aka Kick Your Bootie Camp) lunge and squat workout. Suddenly, peeing has become close to impossible, as I can get nowhere near the toilet without grabbing onto something next to me and slowly lowering myself down to the seat. Other challenges include walking up steps, walking down steps, sitting down at my computer to type (right now I am standing), getting into and out of bed, and a multitude of other tasks I normally take for granted. I am about to OD on Advil, and tonight I’m thinking about a BenGay body scrub. The most incredible part of this story is that I am supposed to be back up at 5:30am for another glorious Boot Camp workout. Is anyone else confused? What part of “I cannot move my lower extremities” = “Boy, I can’t wait to get back out there and run a mile”? Put a fork in me…I’m done.
Gluteus.
May 1, 2008
Did you know that in addition to your Gluteus Maximus muscle, you also have a Gluteus Medius and Gluteus Minimus? Me neither. But, I found out today, after the 1,000th leg lift I did in Boot Camp this morning. For the most part, my buttocks just follow me around, minding their own business. Some days, I actually forget all about them…umm, let me rephrase that…I choose not to notice they are there. Today, though, the hind parts are garnering some more attention. They are on fire. Calgon, take me away.
Boot Camp.
April 28, 2008
Who? Me.
What? First day of Operation Boot Camp (aka Kick Your Ass Camp). A 30-day commitment to intense exercise and healthy eating…just shoot me.
When? This morning. 5:30am. It was still dark outside. Me and the raccoons, on our way to Boot Camp.
Where? A park near my house. Down-pouring rain. The “park” grounds are also home to a mental health facility and sewage plant. The perfect setting for my wild hysteria and pooping explosions, both brought on by incredible amounts of sit-ups, dips, push-ups, and running.
Why? Temporary insanity and a burning desire to run until my lungs explode.
How? God only knows how I made it through today. And I’m really hoping He has a plan for tomorrow too.
Jazzercise.
April 15, 2008
I have to post about Jazzercise because I think it gets a bad rap. A good friend of mine is an instructor and convinced me to join about two years ago. I took a hiatus while I was pregnant (bad idea) and just started back in March. Jazzercise is this whole total body workout thing. It’s cardio, it’s stretch, it’s strength training. It’s really a lot of fun. So, why the bad rap? Well, the cardio is a series of dance moves, somewhat reminiscent of the 80s…a little “Flashdance,” if you will. One of my instructors dons the Olivia Newton-John headband and I’m sure an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt has made its way into the class. Some of the moves have names, like “Attitude” and “Sugar,” and every once in a while this hip gyrating thing starts to happen. But, if you open your mind and embrace the madness, I guarantee you’ll get one of the best workouts ever. Just add in those leg warmers and you’ll burn some extra calories.
Thyroid.
April 8, 2008
I had my thyroid checked today…and my liver, my kidneys, and pituitary gland. The doctor is trying to decide if my muffin top is the result of a medical issue or just too much cheese dip. I think he really should have been checking my mouth, to see if it needs to be wired shut permanently. The nurse took four vials of blood, which seemed like a lot to me (too bad she didn’t weigh me after she took the blood). Of course, she was the size of a pencil. Why is it every time I have to get on the scale at the doctor, the nurse weighing me is the size of my forearm? I didn’t even look at the scale. I just stared out into space thinking, “This better be a thyroid issue, because I can’t give up cheese dip.” Then the thought hit me, “What if it’s not the thyroid?” “What should I do then?” “Exercise?” “Eat less?” And then finally, a solution. Just lie.
Mac and cheese.
March 30, 2008
In 1988, the movie “Mystic Pizza” hit theaters. For those of you lucky ones who’ve seen it, you’ll recall that in the midst of everything else going on with Daisy, Kat, and JoJo, the fame of the pizza continues to spread. At one point in the movie, a food critic visits the restaurant for a taste test and later reports that it seems to contain something almost…mystic. Hence the movie title. I’ve often thought about what an awesome job that would be. A food critic. All day long, every day, just going from place to place tasting food. If I had my choice, I’d pick milkshakes and mac and cheese. I think I am a milkshake and mac and cheese connoisseur. I had some mac and cheese this weekend at a new restaurant here in town called The Crown and Goose (gotta love the name). It was their Orzo ‘Mac n Cheese’ with Stilton Blue & Broiled Manchego Cheese. “Simply Delicious” is what I would call it. Unlike any mac and cheese I’ve ever tasted, the Manchengo (which comes from Manchega sheep in Spain, by the way) added an exuberant flavor to the dish. See, I’m already talking like a critic. Yum.
Belly.
March 28, 2008
My brother’s friend is a personal trainer in L.A. He created this thing called The Belly Burner. It’s supposed to heat your core during a workout so that you burn more calories, and eventually lose weight. I had a baby in August last year. About a week after he was born, I wondered if the doctor had overlooked the other baby I was supposed to birth. I still looked pregnant! Even more mortifying is the fact that my child is now seven months old and I still have a ton of weight to lose. I recently started wearing The Belly Burner. I usually wear it when I work out and when I go walking, but I’m considering a 24-hour system. I may even call this friend to see if he can create The Body Burner for me…an entire outfit that I can eat, sleep, and live in.
