My Life in Exercise
My Life in Exercise
The hordes are gone, the leftovers have been consumed, the house is tidied and only minimally damaged. But the mirror on the back of the closet door remains, as does the bathroom scale and the extra five pounds on my hips and thighs that they insist upon showing me.
How could you possibly gain five pounds in less than that many days, you ask? Easy. Between the Wednesday night lasagna, all that butter and heavy cream in the mashed potatoes (yes, thank you, whoever suggested the heavy cream), and the apple galette with cinnamon ice cream (I confess that one came from the gourmet food place), and let's not forget -- since, as much as I love to deny this, alcohol does have calories -- the 23 mimosas I drank beginning early in the a.m. on Thursday.
By the way, here is my foolproof mimosa recipe:
- Send husband to the store for oranges;
- Get seven-year-old to juice them all. (He will find this wildly entertaining).
- Ask father-in-law to pop the cork on bottle of Moet & Chandon White Star (as sweeter champagnes are preferred for this recipe).
- Mix, enjoy, repeat numerous times.
Not only is this a sure cure for dishpan hands, it feels like absolutely no work!
I'm losing my train of thought here. The point is, I've gained five pounds in quite a brief time period, and I would like to lose them just as quickly. I need a plan.
Now, let me take a moment to say that we here at TLC abhor the pressure that society places on women to be unnaturally thin. We advocate healthy body image, balanced diet and empowering, strengthening exercise. But we'd be dishonest if we didn't admit to falling victim to society's pressures now and then. When even the "fat jeans" are tight, we get into the low self-esteem thing just like the next girl, so why not take positive action?
There is only one way I know to lose weight, and that is to burn up more calories than you consume. (Sorry, but that's just true). Since I like to eat and lack self-discipline, serious dieting is not an option for me, nor is it even healthy. Luckily, I do love to work out. (I love to work out, like, a lot. So much so that when I read You'll Never Eat Lunch in this Town Again -- the most entertaining book ever written about drug addiction -- I totally understood why Julia Phillips substituted running for smoking crack.)
I acknowledge that mine is not the universal human experience. I have struggled to explain my fixation to friends of mine who find vigorous exercise unpleasant if not downright painful. What is your secret, they ask, or really what they're asking is are you insane? Well, it happened like this. I was in the right place at the right time: late 80s, Palo Alto, the weather so perfect that one actually needed to look good in abbreviated clothing, the height of the aerobics craze. A jam-packed gym. A fit-looking blonde at the front of the room, probably named Heather, microphone in hand, exhorting us to "pump it up" in time to the disco beat.
How could I say no? It was like joining a cult. I fell hard. And since then, it's been one craze after the next -- kickboxing, yoga, pilates, Lotte Berk, you name it. Each with its own head games and specialized wardrobe to make you feel like an initiate (and give you an excuse to go shopping!). Heck, after watching that unbelievable chase scene at the beginning of Casino Royale, , I'm ready to try parkour. Check out some amazing video of this latest thing, which is kind of like a cross between doing gymnastics and becoming a stuntman.
As far as bowing to societal pressure, my exercise fixation seems pretty innocent to me, and I have no plans to give it up. What about you? What's your poison when those extra pounds get you down? Diet? Exercise? Or just ignore them and tell society to go pound sand?