Читать книгу Getting My Bounce Back - Carolee Belkin Walker - Страница 9
ОглавлениеChapter 1 – OMG—Endorphins Are for Real
Day 1, March 30, 2014
“We’re running around like we’re brainless.”
—Rizzle Kicks, “Down with the Trumpets”
I was never a gym person. The whole gym culture had run right past me. My family has always belonged to a local health club, and Bob, my husband, Lord Baltimore, and Mia and Adin, my adult children, work out at the gym as often as they can. My father, Len Belkin, walks daily and swims twice a week. They’ve all got a gym routine that I somehow never felt I needed. I had lots of excuses. I wanted to be home with Mia and Adin in the evenings when they were in middle and high school. Later, when they were barely home themselves, I needed to rush through the front door to feed the dog. And I had cooking to do.
I had begun to practice yoga around 2011, and in late 2013, I joined Equinox in Bethesda for the early morning yoga classes. I developed a particular fondness for the club’s yoga studio, which is outfitted with individually operated ceiling fans, so if you arranged things optimally you could set yourself directly underneath one and ask the teacher to turn it on.
When I returned from a theater trip to London in February 2014 and felt limited by my lack of energy, I agreed to meet with one of the Equinox trainers who had been emailing me incessantly offering a free fitness assessment and a free personal training session.
I had ignored these emails and put off the training team for an incredibly long time.
A few days after returning from London, I met Reuel Tizabi, an adorable trainer, at Equinox Bethesda after work. I—ahem—had forgotten to bring my sneakers, so we would be limited in what we could do during the assessment.
I stepped on the scale, and I weighed 121 pounds. I know that doesn’t sound like a lot to you, but I’m 4’10” and my ideal weight is closer to 95 pounds, so that’s a lot of extra weight on my small frame.
Wow, when did that happen? He went through everything else: pulse rate, body fat index, blah blah blah, I wasn’t paying attention—121 pounds?
I agreed to the free personal training session with Adorable. He told me to arrive 10 minutes early so I could warm up on the treadmill, and he would meet me there. In the meantime, before the first training session, I came across the latest issue of More magazine, which featured the fifty-nine-year-old author of the book Labor Day, who began a weight loss and fitness regimen at the San Francisco Equinox. I read the article and handed Adorable the magazine. By the time we met for the second time, Adorable was referring to the flabby personalities under my arms as “Aunt Betty.”
The initial training sessions were astoundingly difficult and embarrassing. No matter what we did, I was completely out of breath and lightheaded. Did I say I was embarrassed? Adorable could tell when I needed to take a lap around the training area—he’d walk with me, and I would feel even more on display as an overweight miniature dinosaur. It’s amazing that I never ran into anyone I knew at Equinox. I live in Bethesda. Kind of a miracle. Kind of amazing I never ran into anyone, literally.
I told Adorable I had a dress I wanted to wear to the Woolly Mammoth Theater Company Gala in two weeks. It was the one I had planned to wear to the Tony Awards the previous year as Mia’s guest when Pippin was nominated for a bunch of Tonys—but I had worn Option B, which was black and forgiving. Adorable was straightforward. He told me I would not see results by then, but he reminded me I was in this for the long haul. We would work Aunt Betty hard.
“You’ll see results in sixteen weeks,” he said.
After a week of training with Adorable I had difficulty buttoning my suit jacket around my chest, and I had gained three pounds. I told Adorable about those results.
This was good information, he noted, because that gave him important insight into how he wanted to move forward. At my request, we stopped using weights and began increasing the number of repetitions using resistance bands. He told me to come in as much as possible to walk on the treadmill, and we were working to strengthen the area around my left knee since I had never done what my then-physical therapist told me to do after my knee surgery in September 2012. “There’s only so much progress you can make if you can’t get your knee to stabilize,” Adorable said.
“It’s not about losing weight,” Adorable told me as he looked at me directly. “It’s about how you feel and about being healthy and fit.”
“It’s about losing weight,” I said. “Like about twenty pounds.”
I had already searched the internet and found that weight gain was a common side effect of working out for the first time. So I told myself I’d be okay with this for now and see how it went.
Those first mornings on my own on the treadmill seemed pointless. I wore baggy sweatpants and an oversize T-shirt. I brought a mug of coffee. And everything hurt. Adorable told me to go at any pace as long as I got in at least two miles. That was about 90 minutes of walking. It took me nearly 45 minutes to walk a single mile.
At first, I watched the news on the big screens in the second-floor training rooms, but as I upped my speed and my distance, I turned to the playlists on my iPhone for inspiration.
I went to R & J Sports in Bethesda, and they put me in Brooks running shoes that were, I’m not exaggerating, like walking on a cloud. They also sold me a pair of ultrathin Balega socks that absolutely do not slip, so I finally said goodbye to two blistering blisters. I picked up some Under Armour slightly fitted short sleeve T-shirts that didn’t stick to me, as odd as that sounds. For my legs, even now I am convinced my Lululemon yoga pants are the best things on the planet. I read about the controversy over those pants a few years ago, but there is simply nothing like them. Even now I rinse them out more frequently than I’d like, but remember I was working with Adorable, who stood very close to me for 60 minutes and stared at every move I made.
I suspect it’s an occupational hazard for trainers if they’ve got to work that closely with people who do not rinse out their yoga pants.
At one of our earliest sessions, Adorable asked me if I felt the burn after we did 20 reps focusing on my glutes.
“What would make you think I wouldn’t feel the burn?” I asked.
“Just checking.”
Adorable told me some clients prefer that he count every repetition aloud. We didn’t work that way. I’d usually ask him where we were when I thought I was out of oxygen. My favorite words: “Five more.” My least favorite: “Eleven more.”
When we were focusing on my core, wherever that was, I looked over at Adorable, and I’m sure he was thinking he was glad the Equinox Fitness Training Institute includes CPR certification. As good as he is, it would probably not be helpful to his career to kill one of his clients.
There was a session around that time where it was all I could do to keep from throwing up right there in the gym. I struggled on the drive home, and when I arrived at my house, I wasn’t sure if I should call 911.
But that night I went to sleep and felt fine when my alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. I walked into my gym clothes with that sense of euphoria that you read about. I am on the other side of this.
That was when we began to have regular discussions about the difference between pain and burn. There was no safe answer to his question, “Are you feeling pain or burn?” If I said pain (especially if it related to my lower back), we would simply stop immediately and move to that horrible machine that works your lower back until you feel the burn.
Day 2, March 31, 2014
“Yeah baby, it hurts a bunch
The girls got going and we had a munch
I promise on a dime, it’s the last time
I’ll never have a liquid lunch.”
—Caro Emerald, “Liquid Lunch”
I tried to cram in as much cardio as I could this morning. I would have done more if I didn’t need to shower and dress for work. I walked nearly four miles on the treadmill; for the first three miles I was walking briskly at 3.6 MPH, and for the last almost-mile, I walked at 3.7 MPH. After the treadmill, I did five minutes on the arm bike, which was all I had time for, but more importantly, it was as much as I could take.
Most of this morning’s music came from my Ladies Night mix, the one I’m compiling in anticipation of my annual Ladies Night Out in December. I came across “Liquid Lunch” by Caro Emerald from The Shocking Miss Emerald album. I must have Shazamed it when I was shopping for my nieces and nephews during the holidays at H & M in Georgetown. And this one: “You Just Don’t Love Me” from David Morales. Shameless techno club pushed me through my last six or seven minutes.
I’d gotten in the habit of bringing my coffee with me to the gym in the mornings. This started when I was taking yoga classes at six o’clock in the morning. I know it’s not very Zen to have coffee in the studio or very smart to hydrate with coffee during cardio workouts, but at least in those early weeks the coffee kept me from sliding off the back of the treadmill. My childhood BFF Ken Levitan, the country music mogul and foodie in Nashville, will appreciate this, because he was the one who told me he knows how to sneak coffee into the Ashram in Los Angeles. My apologies if it wasn’t you, Ken. I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.
After work, I took a yin yoga class with Christopher Brown. Yin is my favorite yoga practice, and I look forward to taking this class whenever possible. We hold poses deeply and for a long time, so you can feel the stretch in the joints as well as in the muscles. Christopher says to find the place between too much and not enough first physically and then mentally, and stay there. It’s so interesting how different my mind works when I’m in the zone during a training session versus being completely present during a yin practice. As a type-A New Yorker, it took a significant effort to get the “being present” concept in yoga. When I’m in the zone during a training session, my mind goes to the strangest kaleidoscopic mix of places—from the Clinique counter at Lord and Taylor to any aisle at Strosniders hardware store.
Nutrition
Pre-cardio: one half Ozery Onebun (wholegrain) with Smart Balance margarine and orange marmalade
Breakfast: whole wheat English muffin with a dollop of fat-free cottage cheese
Morning snack: fat-free Greek yogurt and berries
Lunch: salad with homemade baked tofu and a sliced apple.
I’m going to date myself here to share my secret for baked tofu, which comes from the original Moosewood cookbook. If you’re in a hurry, which I frequently am, you can just slice the tofu (I use lite extra firm when I can find it, otherwise, regular extra firm) and marinate it for at least 30 minutes in the Moosewood concoction or your own sesame/soy mixture. Most of the time, if I’m taking this approach, I prefer Soy Vay Hawaiian style. Just cover the bottom of a lasagna pan with a small amount of the marinade and let the tofu slices sit for 30 minutes (flipping the pieces over after 15 minutes). Then bake in a 350-degree oven for 30 minutes. Once cooled, you can transfer to a storage bowl and keep in the fridge for a few days. The slices make great sandwiches with light mayo and lettuce and tomato on pita or whole wheat or tossed in salads.
Afternoon snack: Nutrigrain bar (yeah, I know I can do better than that) and a cup of green tea.
Dinner: Because by now it was nearly 9 p.m., I passed on the impulse to pour a bowl of cereal. I had a piece of grilled fish and some roasted cauliflower and Brussels sprouts left over from the weekend.
My plan was to get on the scale in a few days, so I was crossing my fingers that the numbers would go down or at least not up.
Day 3, April 1, 2014
“Bring your body and let me switch up your atmosphere.”
—Flo Rida, “Club Can’t Handle Me”
The fifty-nine-year-old writer in the More magazine feature training at the San Francisco Equinox talked about how out of place she felt among the otherwise well-dressed, well-appointed, and well-preserved men and women working out around her. What got me when I looked around the training room in Bethesda was not so much how out of style I felt—although there was that—it was how out of step I was. Right from the treadmill, where serious people-watching is matched only by passing an afternoon at a Parisian café, I was impressed by the large number of clients working with trainers and on their own to maintain their physical health. Sure, there were a few like me who were starting at square one, but remarkably few. I began to recognize Adorable’s clients, since he would greet them warmly while he was working with me, and later, when we saw each other on our own, we would share a pleasantry. We were all writing the same page from a similar chapter in our unique personal stories.
Triathlete was getting ready to train for a race over the summer, and she casually began to plan her workouts and diet. She had done this before, so she was in a position where she could afford to let her discipline slide. I wasn’t so slick. Over the years I had let everything go, and I knew I was looking at months of meticulously scheduled workouts. I felt defeated when Adorable stopped me after five reps when I wanted to do ten more. He didn’t do it often, but when he did, I got the message.
“Why are you being so hard on yourself?” Triathlete asked me.
“Look at all this time and work ahead of me,” I said. “I’m so stupid.”
Nutrition
It wasn’t a great food day. During our early morning session Adorable had pointed out that without something to burn, without fuel, I’d poop out, which I did. I’m sure he used a more scientific description to make his point, but I was recovering from our third set of core work and had only absorbed the gist of what he was trying to communicate. After the session, I had to get ready for work quickly, and the morning flew by. I did not have time to eat my morning yogurt and fruit and only had time to manage half of my salad. At a social event I had a beer and a potato pierogi and then headed to the gym for cardio.
By the time I met Triathlete for dinner at Lebanese Taverna in Bethesda, I was coasting on fumes. We shared some mezza—mostly vegetarian—and I said no to a glass of wine. I was glad I was committed to staying focused, because otherwise I might have had two beers in the afternoon and joined Triathlete for a glass of wine with dinner. Even with only having picked up every other word, I figured that was not the fuel Adorable had in mind.
Playlist Highlights
Pre-training Warm Up
Go Do – Jonsi
Viva la Vida – Coldplay
Somewhere Only We Know – Keane
After-work Cardio
(3.88 miles / 65 minutes / mostly 3.7 MPH)
Pumped it up tonight—I needed it.
Timber – Pitbull
Coastin’ – Zion I and K. Flay
Down With The Trumpets – Rizzle Kicks
You’re No Good – Major Lazer
Right Round – Flo Rida (My all-time favorite.)
Envy – 116 Man Up (I love this riff on Bernadette Peters and Tom Wopat in the 1999 Tony award winning revival of Annie Get Your Gun, which featured Mia as Nellie Oakley—you can hear her on the Broadway cast recording.)
Rough Water – Travie McCoy
Club Can’t Handle Me – Flo Rida (This was also playing during our training session just when I thought I was about to go bust—it got me through.)
Cool Down
m.A.A.d city – Kendrick Lamar (Explicit, but incredibly narrative, and a good six-minute focus piece.)
Day 4, April 2, 2014
“Just because it burns.”
—Pink, “Try”
There are moments when I think there are so many parts of my body that need an overhaul that if I could concentrate on fixing one part at a time, the process might seem more productive. I bet when Adorable met me for the first time and considered how he would approach our fitness regimen, he must have felt like a college student looking around his room in the middle of the semester.
Where to begin.
We were catching up that morning and going over my plan for nontraining days, and it struck me how strategic fitness training is. I’m the last to find out the plan for a training session, which is okay by me, but if a trainer begins each session as if it’s the first time you’ve worked together or who wants to try out something new in the gym, you need to move on. I have little goals and big goals, and that’s where the strategy part comes in. I think that’s why Adorable said it takes 16 weeks of intensely working out to see results; you can’t work everything at the same time. Bummer, I know! Wouldn’t it be nice to see your arms slim down after pumping 30 leg lifts?
My little goals are to build stamina and to go shopping in my closet. My big goals are to go running on the Capital Crescent Trail and to let the sun see as much of my skin as is legally acceptable without embarrassing Mia and Adin.
I had to be at work for an early meeting, so I did a quick workout. I didn’t do any yoga that evening, since I was co-hosting a Meet the Candidate Dessert at my house with Jordan Cooper, Democratic Maryland General Assembly Candidate representing District 16, a fellow Vassar College alum. My guilty pleasure was a single slice of chocolate babka from Green’s of Brooklyn.
Playlist Highlights
Warm Up
Try – Pink
Monster – Eminem
Before-work Cardio
(3 miles / 45 minutes / 3.7 MPH; arm bike 5 minutes).
Blurred Lines – Glee cast version (Don’t judge.)
I Am the Best – 2NE1 (Adin sent me this one.)
Get Lucky – Daft Punk
Stronger – Kanye
Sunshine – Mos Def
Crazy Kids – Kesha
American Idiot – Green Day
Cool down
The Boxer – Mumford and Sons version
Fare Thee Well – Mumford and Sons
Day 5, April 3, 2014
“Tell it like it is”
—Aaron Neville, “Tell It Like It Is”
I weighed in at 120 pounds, an official loss of a single pound since late February. I was mildly discouraged and bummed but not surprised. My goal was to use the weekend to think through and prepare the kind of food I would need to eat moving forward. Adorable encouraged me to consult a registered dietician. I knew I needed to find the right balance of protein in my diet since I have a natural tendency to bulk up. My focus for now would be complex carbs, including fruit and vegetables.
Training with Adorable that evening was more difficult than I anticipated. And it was practically always difficult. I would try to tell you what we worked on, but as at the time I did not know a single thing about exercise science or anatomy, I’ll simply note that I thought we were working on my core, but learned later we were strengthening the muscles around my knees.
***
It’s not that I am not self-aware about how mundane a lot of what I am writing might sound to many people, especially friends who have taken significant steps to stay in good physical shape for years. I also know my musings about my training sessions may often sound stupid, but I promise I am not posing as someone I am not. I am stupid. I still reach for a “Slow Start” button every time I step onto the treadmill, expecting to find it right next to the “Quick Start” one that I need to tap three times before it agrees to get going.
The irony is not lost on me that when I first came in to the Department of State as a public diplomacy writer for the former website www.america.gov (now www.share.america.gov), from the beginning I covered First Lady Michelle Obama’s kitchen garden and her kids’ healthy eating/Let’s Move campaign. Although my colleagues knew I kept signing up for the beat just to get another glimpse of dreamy White House kitchen chef Sam Kass, I—like whole continents of women—admired Michelle Obama’s unambiguous commitment to keeping herself in awesome shape. I never said it aloud, but it crossed my mind even then that she must have a strategy for staying fit while making room on her full plate for fruits and vegetables, running on the treadmill, and advocacy for veterans and military families.
Playlist Highlights
Warm Up
Tainted Love – Soft Cell (This one stayed with me all day.)
Electric Avenue – Eddy Grant (From Killer on the Rampage.)
Before-work cardio
(4 miles! Over 60 minutes / 3.7 MPH)
My Evolving Beach Mix:
I Don’t Wanna Dance – Eddy Grant
Drop Baby Drop – Eddy Grant
Exodus – Bob Marley
Many Rivers to Cross – Jimmy Cliff
You Can Get It If You Really Want – Jimmy Cliff (Of course.)
Tell It Like It Is – Aaron Neville
Electric Avenue extended Version – Eddy Grant (Probably on repeat twice—I’m old school with a time-honored passion for reggae/calyso/zydeco.)
No cool down this morning as I was in too much of a hurry to get to work. It’s a good thing I like my job.
Day 6, April 5, 2014
“Leave those umbrellas at home.”
—The Weather Girls, “It’s Raining Men”
I had woken up fighting a cold, which I likely caught at the gym. I’m not complaining. Equinox is extremely well-kept, with members who regularly wipe off the machines both before and after using them. Trainers walking the floor are constantly bringing around clean hand towels, including chilled towels soaked in eucalyptus, and in the yoga studio you rarely see body fluids pooled on the floor. It’s like when your child goes to day care for the first time. My children were always bringing home bugs that made a run at me even when, over time, the kids seemed immune.
Despite the periodic club emails reminding members of basic etiquette, you know there will always be that person. I’d seen her at the gym a few Saturdays in a row. She was probably in her fifties and in extremely good shape. She would come in from a run outside and settle her things, including a duffle and a designer handbag, next to the elliptical machine outside the restroom door. She would begin to strip off her outdoor running clothes and add them to the pile of bags on the floor. She would tap her running shoes to shake off the mud, and then she’d stack several newspapers on the machine. As she exercised and made her way through the papers, she’d toss the pages one by one to the floor on all sides of the machine. Other members nimbly stepped over the pile of clothing and bags, the discarded pages, and the dirt to reach the restroom and other machines.
The first time I observed this routine, especially during the disrobing, I was sure there was a Candid Camera crew somewhere. Then I wondered whether I had missed a Groupon offering discounted membership if you didn’t use the lockers, which, by the way, have wooden hangers.
My take is you have to be at a certain phase in your life to appreciate working out in a civilized environment. I’m sure at another point in time, this would have been a turn off. Now I craved it.
Usually when I’ve finished a workout, especially in the early mornings before work, I would get into my car energized and alert. But occasionally, as on that morning, I might feel lightheaded and disoriented. I was able to add 10 minutes to my workout because I walked to two different parking lots before I remembered I had parked on the street directly in front of the gym. I walked by my car twice heading for the lots.
“Is this something you plan to bring up with your physician?” Lord Baltimore asked me, not so much as a question but as a commentary.
Cardio
I walked three miles at 3.7 MPH and did five minutes maintaining 60 RPM on the arm bike. Then I finished up on the mat with planks and a few core favorites, and of course straight-leg lifts.
Playlist Highlights
I shuffled between a bunch of interesting mixes I’d created over the years, and the result was a little chaotic but definitely fun.
Warm up
It’s Raining Men – The Weather Girls
In Da Club – 50 Cent
Cardio
My Evolving Ladies Night Mix: Some old, some new.
Keep Breathing – Ingrid Michaelson
Set Fire to the Rain – Adele
Paper Planes – M.I.A.
Count on Me – Bruno Mars
Where Does the Good Go – Tegan and Sara
Whatcha Say – Jason Derulo
God Only Knows – Beach Boys
Mad World – Michael Andrews/Gary Jules—from Donnie Darko
Team – Lorde
Brave – Sara Bareilles
Cool Down
Some Nights – Fun.
Oh What a World – Rufus Wainwright
Day 9, April 7, 2014
“A dream’s a dream”
—Jack Johnson, “Dreams Be Dreams”
Around this time last year, my father-in-law, Roland Walker, died. Before he was diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease (ALS), which he battled for eighteen months, he was a savvy criminal defense attorney in Baltimore. He turned eighty-three in the fall of 2013 but embodied the phrase, “Eighty is the new sixty.” He was an avid cyclist, and he worked out daily in the gym he had built in his Baltimore home. As ALS began to take away his ability to walk or to move his arms, he used his courtroom charm to persuade his Johns Hopkins physician to prescribe physical therapy. The physician told him to think through whether physical therapy was the right approach.
“If it makes you feel better, then do it,” the doctor told him. “If it tires you out and saps your energy so you’re unable to spend time with your family, then I wouldn’t recommend it. Physical therapy will not help you walk or hold things in your hand.”
Tough words. No one was surprised when Roland refused to accept this as his reality and set up his PT appointments. By the time he struggled to inhale his last gulps of air, he had lived many months beyond the average ALS patient of his age.
It’s not a stretch to reason that he lasted as long as he did because he took care to stay in shape throughout his later years.
It was Roland who introduced me to the incredible Northern Central Railroad bike trail in Monkton. He befriended the owner of the local bike shop and convinced him to let him store his gear so he wouldn’t have to lug it around in his two-seater. His enthusiasm for boxing, football, biking, fishing, and exercising in general was infectious, and I think I can speak for his children and their spouses when I suggest most of our biking trips—and probably all of our fishing trips—were Roland’s idea. He wasn’t much of a baseball fan, but he liked me, so if I bought the tickets to Camden Yards, he’d go.
A few days before Roland’s death, when we all knew it was close to the end, one of his daughters, my sister-in-law Nicole Upton, made a commitment to herself to get fit and lose weight. By now, Nicole has lost 52 pounds, and her goal is to lose 20 more. In a similar way to what I had been doing, she devised a workout and diet regimen and held herself accountable by following through every single day. The results are absolutely amazing. She acknowledges how hard it’s been but how much she continues to value the payoff. Nicole was one of the people who inspired me to get serious.
Adorable and I had a brief conversation about inspiration versus motivation. Some clients—not just his—want a trainer to motivate them, he said. This approach to training is common in the military. Think drill sergeant.
I am inspired by people, music, art, I said. What motivates me is moi.
Over the weekend I shopped for and prepared meals I wanted to have ready to go. For afternoon snacks, I made granola from Cannell et Vanille with changes and additions kitchen-tested by my sister-in-law Susan Walker. In addition to being absolutely fantastic and enlightened, the cinnamony smells linger for almost as long as a piece of salmon cooked on the stove. I’ve been making this granola for my family ever since Susan shared it with me. Unfortunately, I developed a sudden allergy to nuts, so while I continue to make this granola, I’m sadly not the one who gets to enjoy it, unless I swap out the almonds and pistachios for peanuts.
Whenever possible, I’m using my weekends to roast seasonal vegetables. My favorites are beets, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, baby eggplant, broccoli, and bell peppers. For lunches, I add these to greens and my baked tofu or leftover grilled fish.
I’ve started to pick up clementines for snacking after work and before yoga or training.
For dinners, I’ve made Channa Masala a staple in my repertoire, and I’m serving it with wilted kale, collard, mustard greens, and whatever yogurt sauce I can whip together on top of half a piece of whole wheat naan. (The Channa Masala recipe is adapted from chef Rupen Rao from an Indian cooking class I took with Lord Baltimore and my sister Ilene Lish, along with her husband, Ethan Lish. The recipe is also on the side of the box of the Channa Masala spice tin.) This is so good and easy to make. Some of the Indian spices are hard to find, but Rupen Rao sells his spice collections online, which is helpful.
In the mornings before workouts, I’ve replaced the slice of toast with a banana and a small glass of freshly squeezed orange juice made the old-fashioned way with a hand juicer, so I’m getting the juice, pulp, and even some seeds. I’m crossing my fingers that the vitamin C will help me fend off a threatening cold. So far, no traces of a bug, although the seeds may be lingering. (TMI?)
Tomorrow is a training day. I’m glad I had three days to recover from Friday’s early morning session, because I did not feel the full effect of what we did until Sunday. I guess it takes a few days for traumatized connective tissues to secrete fluid and become inflamed. Impressed?
Tonight, I worked to find that sweet spot in Christopher’s yin yoga class.
“But if you work too hard to find it, you can’t enjoy it; if you don’t work hard enough, you lose focus and your mind wanders.”
Christopher is like the Yoda of yin. Roland would have been so into him.
Enlightened Granola
Adapted from Cannell et Vanille
Ingredients
3 cups extra-thick rolled oats
1½ cups nuts and seeds. I use a combination of slivered almonds, pistachios, sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, and unsweetened shredded coconut
½ cup apple juice
½ cup maple syrup
¼ cup olive oil
2 Tbsp. pure vanilla extract
½ tsp. ground cinnamon
1 tsp. fine sea salt
1½ cup dried fruit. I use raisins, dried cranberries, dried blueberries, and dried strawberries, if I can find them.
Instructions
1 Preheat oven to 325 degrees Fahrenheit (160 degrees Celsius).
2 Combine the oats, nuts, and seeds in a large bowl.
3 Combine the apple juice, maple syrup, olive oil, vanilla extract, cinnamon, and sea salt in a small bowl.
4 Pour the liquid over the dry ingredients and toss to coat.
5 Spread the mixture evenly on a baking sheet coated with parchment paper.
6 Bake for 40 minutes until golden. Stir the mixture after 20 minutes to make sure it is evenly baked.
7 Let the granola cool completely. It will become crunchier as it sits.
8 Stir in the dried fruit when completely cool.
9 Store in an airtight container.
Channa Masala Curry
Adapted from Rupen Rao
Ingredients
4 Tbsp. olive oil
1 cup minced red onion
2 cups canned garbanzo beans, rinsed
1 Tbsp. minced ginger
1 Tbsp. minced garlic
1 can diced tomatoes, including juice
Spice mix:
(You can also buy Rupen’s Channa Masala spice mix. The recipe is on the tin, so it tells you how much to use.)
1 Tbsp. yellow curry powder
1 tsp. garam masala powder
1 tsp. mango powder
½ tsp. cayenne powder
Salt to taste
½ fresh lemon juice
Chopped cilantro
Instructions
1 In a skillet, heat the oil over medium heat.
2 Add onions and sauté for 5 minutes, stirring every few minutes until the onions are light brown. Add ginger and garlic, sauté for 2 more minutes.
3 Add tomato and spices, mix well, and cook covered on low heat for 5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
4 Mash tomatoes with the back of a spoon.
5 Add 1 cup water and garbanzo beans and mix well.
6 Bring to a boil over medium heat, and add salt.
7 Cover and cook for 20 minutes.
8 Use the back of a spoon to mash some of the garbanzo beans.
Add lemon juice, garnish with chopped cilantro, and serve with basmati rice and naan or roti.
Playlist Highlights
Warm Up
Clocks – Coldplay
Lost Girls – Tilly and the Wall
Before-work Cardio
I only did two miles because I struggled with shin splints, especially on my left leg. I’ve had this problem off and on, but usually they let up after the first mile. Since I had to go more slowly, I ran out of time. I did six minutes on the arm bike maintaining 60 RPM and about 10 minutes on the mat, doing planks and leg and core work.
Flightless Bird, American Mouth – Iron & Wine
Happy Ending – MIKA
Dreams Be Dreams – Jack Johnson
Tore My Heart – OONA
The Con – Tegan and Sara
Count on Me – Bruno Mars (So wholesome)
Happy – Pharrell Williams (So sappy, but I love this song.)
Lovers’ Eyes – Mumford and Sons (I set this one on repeat through arm bike—so great.)
Day 11, April 9, 2014
“Show me the buffet.”
—John Pinette
I was surprised at how moved I was at seeing Su Meck at her book signing in Rockville. Su was on the talk show and book-signing circuit after her gripping memoir I Forgot to Remember was published. In the book, Su describes her survival and recovery from a devastating brain injury when her son Ben was a baby. I got to know Su when Ben and Mia performed in the “Laramie Project” together their senior year of high school. Su’s daughter, Kassidy, did musical theater with Adin, and they were members of the same show choir. Su and I were stage moms and volunteers who drove our kids to rehearsals, collected props, and raised money for the youth theater group—Act Two Performing Arts before it became ActTwo@Levine—and threw cast parties for the kids.
Su had always been friendly and pleasant and enjoyed talking about her son Patrick, the diver, who had no interest in theater. We had met Patrick for the first time at the book signing, where Su told one of our friends that although she always carried a book with her to rehearsals back then, the brain injury had left her without the ability to read. She just wanted to fit in and seem normal. Su and her husband, who now live in Massachusetts, had made a decision to keep her injury a secret, and not one of the moms who socialized with Su had a clue until she told us about the book just before it was published.
Su’s story is honest and touching. Woven throughout the pages of her memoir are the moments when she felt normal. There weren’t many of these, but they formed the foundation of her survival. She said one thing she could count on were her gigs teaching aerobics or some other fitness class at a health club, probably what we would have called Equinox in the 80s, wearing our Jane Fonda leg warmers and leotards. There are disturbing moments as well, and it’s hard not to feel like we all let Su down by enabling her to keep her struggle a secret. Her loneliness permeates the book, and I think we all feel a little guilty about that.
It was great to be together to catch up and to celebrate those moments of survival.
As we walked to our cars, my good friend Carmelita Watkinson suggested the two of us head to the bar at Seasons 52 for a late dinner. We had a great meal—I had a salad with sushi grade tuna, and both of us had a glass of Napa Valley Honig Sauvignon Blanc. In the center of the bar was Andy with the terrific voice at the piano. Andy is there every Tuesday night, and we’re thinking we might be there too.
***
I was sad to read about the death of John Pinette at the age of fifty. Adin is the one who found the story and forwarded it to me. Apparently, the cause was a pulmonary embolism. When we lived in California and drove vast distances for practically any reason, Pinette’s famous comedy special, Show Me the Buffet, was a favorite CD. He made fun of his size and his huffing and puffing around Disney World, and he recounted endlessly hilarious situations at the buffet.
In the end, not really that funny.
Very sad, Adin wrote.
***
Yesterday, I pushed myself to go to the gym for cardio before work and later had training with Adorable where we focused on my core, which I learned includes my lower back as well as my gut—duh—and my pecs, shoulders, and arms before heading to the book event. I did not have the same shin splint problem I had been having on Monday. Adorable had showed me some specific stretches to try before getting on the treadmill. It would be months and some guidance from my current physical therapist Dr. Kevin McGuinness before I was done with this problem, though.
Playlist Highlight
Only one is worth mentioning after such a long and full day.
Talk Dirty – Jason Derulo featuring 2 Chainz (I’ve put this one in the same category as “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent. Seriously great stuff, but do we need to be exposed to this much explicit language? Jason Derulo?)
Day 12, April 10, 2014
“This is how I roll.”
—LMFAO, “Sexy and I Know It”
It was probably only for a second, but I felt myself shrug when I stepped off the scale.
I’m fine just the way I am.
Adorable and I decided to put off getting me back on the scale, at least for this week.
“We can do that when you feel absolutely great,” he said. Reuel is adorable, but he’s also a genius.
This morning, I arrived at the gym a little earlier than usual. Because I knew I had training after work, I wanted to be more thoughtful about how much time I would spend on the treadmill, the arm bike, and maybe the recumbent bike, which my orthopedic surgeon had said would be good for my knees.
At 2.25 miles in, walking at a brisk 3.7 MPH, I decided I wanted more time on the arm bike, and I was feeling healthy—I had no issues with my shins, knees, or lower back, and I did not feel out of breath. It was during—of all songs—“Sexy and I Know It”—that I decided to increase my speed to 3.9 MPH and then 4.0 MPH, at which point the only way I could keep up was to start jogging.
I am not exaggerating when I tell you I fully expected my skeleton to begin crumbling to the floor.
I stayed with it, and there I was, running at a very acceptable pace for the next three quarters of a mile. No issues or problems—crazy! I started to crack up and nearly rolled off the back of the treadmill when I caught one of Adorable’s clients I saw every morning out of the corner of my eye doing a double take as he was coming up from a bench press, not to mention the guy running next to me, who fed me a side-glance or two. Once I fell into a rhythm, I took a video selfie to ensure I was actually jogging and not simply thinking about jogging. I know I was listening to “No Church in the Wild” at that point because the music paused when the camera was recording, and I instantly thought, that’s an Apple bug that needs a fix. Why can’t the camera operate while the phone is playing music?
I did my five minutes on the arm bike, maintaining 60 RPM, but I never made it to the recumbent bike, since I forgot it. The last time I ran anywhere in sneakers and not heels catching a bus was between the bases during a high school softball game. What a sense of euphoria! It has been with me all day, and I can’t wait to see where this takes me.
***
Playlist Highlights
This was a great selection this morning, particularly in this order.
Switch – Will Smith
Don’t Stop the Party – Pitbull (Adorable Shazamed this for me when it was playing in the training room during a set of straight-leg lifts a few nights ago. This is old, where’ve I been?)
Where Is the Love – Black Eyed Peas
My Humps – Black Eyed Peas (Always makes me smile, especially when I remember my niece singing this one from her booster seat in my car.)
We Be Burning – Sean Paul
Lose Yourself – Eminem (Nearly bought a Chrysler because of how great this song is.)
Dry Your Eyes – The Streets
Temperature – Sean Paul
The Boogie That Be – Black Eyed Peas (Kind of heavy on Fergie this morning.)
Club Can’t Handle Me – Flo Rida
Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Version) – Jay Z
(I’m a huge fan and loved his memoir.)
Sexy and I Know It – LMFAO (I know, I know.)
Stronger – Kanye
Touch the Sky – Kanye and Lupe Fiasco
No Church in the Wild – Kanye and Jay Z
Sunshine – Mos Def
Crazy Kids – Kesha
The Way I Are – Timbaland
Hey Ya! – OutKast
Day 20, April 18, 2014
“La drogue agit sur moi lentement.”
—Yelle, “Comme Un Enfant”
Here is the thing about endorphins: OMG they are for real.
Yesterday I had lunch with my colleague Jill, and in the cab back to the office, I had landed in her lap as her foot and bottom wedged under the front passenger seat and on the floor of the taxi. Neither of us was wearing a seat belt, as we had been deep in conversation from the time we hailed the cab until the moment it suddenly stopped within inches of plowing into a car that was trying to sneak a left turn. I saw the other car—if the cab driver had not slammed on the brakes at that very moment, we would have been sitting on that driver’s lap.
Jill’s ankle hurt, but she was okay walking back into our building. Later that evening as I was riding to the garage in the elevator, two other colleagues commented that I seemed to be okay after the accident in the cab.
“Is Jill okay?”
“She’s limping pretty badly and probably going to the ER tonight.”
Really?
I started to tell them what had happened, but when I described sitting on Jill’s lap on the floor of the cab, I burst into the most ridiculous and uncontrollably hysterical laughter. One of the other colleagues smiled, too, but more in reaction to my face than to the situation, which was not funny. We had almost had a car accident, and now Jill, who’s about to take leave and have down time with her family for Easter, was headed to the emergency room.
I’m chuckling right now as I’m writing this. It’s like I’m high on morphine. And, yes, I know what that’s like, because I delivered Mia in a Philadelphia city hospital while the patient in the room next to mine coded and died of preeclampsia. There was so much chaos in and around my hospital room, with men and women in white coats and scrubs racing around, trying to forget about me, that for a minute I imagined I was in an episode of St. Elsewhere. No one was available to perform an epidural, so the resident decided morphine would put everything on pause. I don’t remember a lot about my labor experiences with either of my children, but I do remember the morphine that day.
Apparently, endorphins are considered endogenous morphine. And I think the effect must be cumulative, because as I’m adding running to my daily cardio and upping my speed a bit, I am seriously high all day. I can barely keep a straight face, even in a training session with Adorable when my shoulders are obviously on fire.
I just can’t help myself.
He’s watching me, concentrating deeply.
And I’m cracking up.
Do people talk about this? Maybe I’m just particularly sensitive and the effect is exaggerated, but I have a serious job and a lot of work to do, and this is more than a feeling of well-being.
***
It has been two weeks since I last weighed in at the gym, and in discussing whether I should do it tonight, both Lord Baltimore and Mia pointed out the good and the bad. Neither wanted to persuade me to weigh myself, because they were worried I’d be discouraged if I hadn’t lost any weight. But then they didn’t want to dissuade me, either. They didn’t want it to seem as if they thought I looked like I hadn’t lost any weight.
It’s fine.
I had lost one pound, which does not even seem remotely possible considering what I’ve been doing to my body and not putting into my body. The numbers are at least moving in the right direction, and I feel good. Whoever said life is good must have been high on endorphins.
Life is good.
***
During a training session last week, I asked Adorable what we were working when it felt as if we were strengthening my chest muscles, which on a scale of 1 to 10 did not seem to be a top problem spot.
“The pectoral muscles.”
“Why?”
“Working the pecs is clutch.”
“Clutch?”
“The pec’s a really big muscle and working big muscles helps you burn calories.”
“Clutch?”
“The larger muscle groups are clutch in terms of burning more calories.”
I’ve been trying to use “clutch” in a sentence all day, but the best I can do is, “I really like the Cubist minaudière clutch bag on the J. Crew website.”
***
I did two long road trips last weekend, and for at least three hours I had Adin in the car with me while I was driving him back to school. We talked about music for a good chunk of the time. Both he and Mia have always been up on the latest music trends, but Adin in particular, both because he has been a dancer/choreographer since he was in middle school and because he has a knack for discovering music that is especially right for movement, so that’s why I get a lot of ideas from him. This time, he turned me on to “Comme Un Enfant” from the French band Yelle’s album Safari Disco Club. He’s still confounded by my lack of enthusiasm for Beyoncé, even if I’m president of the Jay Z fan club.
“She’s all about empowering women, Mom, you should love her.”
“I’ve got endorphins, honey. I’d be lethal if I had any more empowerment.”
Day 23, April 21, 2014
“Everybody’s looking for something”
—Eurythmics, “Sweet Dreams”
A Motown classic washed over the final scene of August Wilson’s Two Trains Running, which I saw at Round House Theatre in Bethesda. But after three hours of so much dialogue, I almost expected to hear Vangelis’ “Chariots of Fire” as the actors took their well-deserved bows. The story is set in Pittsburgh’s Hill District overlooking downtown Pittsburgh at the end of the Hill’s heyday in 1969 Everything on stage happens in a diner owned by Memphis, the play’s central character, but it was Risa who had caught my attention.
Lord Baltimore and I went to the play with my good friend Mimi Kress and her husband, photographer Michael Kress. Mimi works as many long hours as any woman I know, but there she is nearly every morning, at the gym by 6:00 a.m. She’s got that je ne sais quoi that I’ve started to recognize in women of my age who have figured out what works for them. During intermission, Mimi and I realized Lord Baltimore and Michael had not noticed the deep scars deforming Risa’s legs when she had crossed the stage as the diner’s waitress.
How could they miss that?
This was the first thing Mimi and I noticed when we met Risa, a gorgeous woman—beautifully played at Round House by Shannon Dorsey—who had used a blade to cut her legs as a girl to avoid the unwanted attention of men. There was some backstory here that Wilson didn’t get into, but we got the point that the males in Risa’s life were all about asking her for something, especially Memphis, her boss.
So, when the likable Sterling finally comes out with it and lets Risa know how he feels about her—despite her “ugly” legs—Risa gives herself a little push and confronts her own desires. It’s a poignant moment in the play—if underplayed in the Round House version—and although Wilson doesn’t typically write a lot of female characters, he got this one right. I found it interesting that the two males we were with in the audience never saw the scars until Sterling mentioned them. In that way, Lord Baltimore and Michael were kind of like Sterling, who looked at Risa’s legs but never paid them any attention. Even as I am determined to lose weight and sport sleeveless blouses with First Lady ease, I am still marveling at how much I am responsible not only for my own self-image but also for the image others have of me.
On the way home from dinner in Baltimore last night, I listened to Muddy Waters’s soulful “Still a Fool,” which is where the title of the play comes from, and I thought about the word “journey” and how often this word as a concept is simply inadequate.
There’s two trains running
Well ain’t nary one—ho!—going my way
***
I feel so much better about everything. I’m not only pulling myself up into a side plank, I am holding a side plank, even on my right side. I’ve been practicing yoga for several years, yet I’ve always been bothered by how difficult the down dog position is for me because of the weakness in my right wrist, which I broke years ago. To use Adorable’s word, holding up my core with my right arm is nothing short of epic.
A side effect is that I am also starting to feel impatient for a ripped abdomen, even though I’m a long way off—if ever—from anything even close to that. I’m almost a little embarrassed to admit this.
I’ve changed my attitudes about fitness and daydream about being fit.
And smokin’.
Playlist Highlights
2-hour workouts Saturday and Sunday morning (1 hour cardio / 3 miles total / 2 miles at 4.2 MPH (!) / 6 minutes on the arm bike maintaining 70 RPM / 1 hour on the mat and cool arm and leg stretches Adorable showed me)
Sunshine – Rye Rye
Don’t Stop the Party – Pitbull
Quiet Dog – Mos Def
Comme Un Enfant – Yelle
212 – Azealia Banks
Pump It – Black Eyed Peas
After Party – Keith Milgaten/ Keith Stanfield
Right Round – Flo Rida (My happy place.)
Envy – 116
m.A.A.d city – Kendrick Lamar
In da Club – 50 Cent
Don’t Matter – Akon
Land – Patti Smith
Sweet Dreams – Eurythmics (I like the remix.)
Everyone’s the Same – Alice Anna (My sister-in-law Lindsey’s husband, Scott Smith, played guitar in this Baltimore band.)
Happy – Pharrell Williams
Lovers’ Eyes – Mumford and Sons
Day 25, April 23, 2014
“I am the luckiest.”
—Ben Folds, “The Luckiest”
Last week the New York Times ran a story about gyms using personal fitness devices to track clients’ activity. Basically, clients buy some sort of wearable activity tracker that allows their trainer to monitor their every move. So, for example, if I told Adorable that this morning I ran 2 miles at 4.2 MPH, Adorable could either say he already knew that or that it was more like 1.5 miles, because he’s got my activity data on his phone.
When I asked Adorable about this, he didn’t seem all that engaged one way or the other.
I think that’s because he knew he probably wouldn’t need an electronic device to monitor his clients’ data. I push myself simply by knowing he’s in the building when I’m running on the treadmill. I’m sure I’d be walking up and down nine flights of stairs to get to and from my office if I knew he was carrying my physical activity data in his pocket.
I want to take back the comment I made earlier about motivation. Adorable had told me that many clients (not only his) rely on their trainers to motivate them (think drill sergeant). I had considered that idea but concluded I am the only person who can motivate me.
Not.
Obviously, I am motivated to get results, but I do not (yet) have the ability to push myself to get there. I’ve completely crossed over and bought in to the whole trainer vibe. I need this. I need to be pushed. Someone with skill needs to tell me how high and how long and how far. It’s not in my nature to go much beyond what my brain signals is safe.
And I don’t get that endorphin rush unless I push myself harder than I thought possible. It’s the sprinting, going harder and longer at whatever, that gives me the happy pill.
I need this.
***
A few weeks ago, Adorable had me do repetitions on the horrible back extension machine, and then immediately “flex” my stomach on the machine next to it without a break. He calls that a “super set,” and I’ve tried to duplicate the super set concept when I go from the treadmill (without a cool down) to the arm bike to holding a plank in the mornings before work. I benefit from taking breaks in between sets or from a cool down after running, but I get the point of the super set. It’s another way to get that unexpected fast rush.
Flex my stomach? If you can visualize that, let me know.
We got on the subject of the super set tonight because we were talking about endurance and how to boost it. For my morning workouts, Adorable suggested I try ramping up my speed on the treadmill for 30 seconds, and then taking it back down, and to do this throughout my three miles.
***
The millennial on the treadmill next to me was furiously texting while running a nine-minute mile. I was worried she might step over the edge, but she was completely in control.
Later that evening in my kitchen, I was having difficulty texting Mia, who was on a quiet bus from Boston back to New York, while eating a piece of matzah.
***
Yesterday morning I had to take my car in for service because it had two flat tires. Both tires were punctured with nails, so I assumed I must have driven into a construction zone. Later, in the shower, I winced when I put my foot down at a certain angle and thought maybe I had bruised something. I took a look and saw I had a splinter deep in the sole of my right foot.
As a girl from the beaches of Long Island who has had a lot of experience with splinters, I typically leave them and let them rise to the surface on their own. But this morning I thought I’d try to get it out so I wouldn’t have any problems running. I took out my tweezer kit (everyone has one, right?) and used the sharpest tool to pry out the small piece of wood. After some time, I pulled it out in one piece and took a look at it. It was sharp, like a nail.
Is it just me, or is someone using a voodoo doll to cast a spell on me?
Before-work Cardio
(3 miles total/ 2 miles at 4.2 MPH / 5 minutes on the arm bike maintaining 70 RPM / arm stretches)
Playlist Highlights
Mellow this morning as I was fairly sleep-deprived.
What a Piece of Work Is Man – From the soundtrack of the Broadway musical Hair
After Party – Keith Milgaten and Keith Stanfield
Hey Baby – Pitbull
When a Man Loves a Woman – Aaron Neville
Count on Me – Bruno Mars
Paperweight – Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk
Waiting on the World to Change – John Mayer
Mad World – from Donnie Darko
Clocks – Coldplay
Tiny Dancer – Ben Folds cover (Such an amazing pianist.)
The Luckiest – Ben Folds
Day 29, April 27, 2014
“Then I realized I was swimming.”
—Florence + the Machine, “Swimming”
You have to be smart about your addictions.
I warmed up for 30 minutes on the treadmill, including a 1-mile run, early on Friday before my morning training session and followed Adorable’s suggestion to include a minute of sprinting sprinkled in two or three times during my run.
During training, I had a lot of discomfort in my calves and my left shin, and by the end of the hour, Adorable suggested I take the weekend off from running, or even walking, on the treadmill.
“Okay.”
But okay was not what I was thinking. I doubted I could get through the next two days without this.
I told Adorable I’d swim.
“Nice.”
Nearly everyone I knew growing up on Long Island was a swimmer. Even as adults, my father, Len, and my sisters Sherry, Phyllis, and Ilene, swim regularly, and I swam in the Johns Hopkins University pool when I was in graduate school. Once I started dying my hair, though, getting my head soaked in a tank of chlorine lost its appeal for me. I hadn’t even glanced at the Equinox pool, which by the way was salt water, so I didn’t know what to expect when I showed up on Saturday morning.
But before I could swim in the pool, I needed to stop at a sporting goods store to pick up a silicone swim cap, goggles from this decade, and a racing suit, because I was sure my Karla Colletto was never meant to get wet. City Sports fit me in a cap that would work for my head and hair and goggles with the correct “orbit” for my face. I picked the cheapest suit on the rack that didn’t look too much like I knew what I was doing. They had “swim paddles” for your hands that added resistance to your work out, but I knew enough to talk to Adorable first before investing in a pair of lobster claws.
I put the suit on in the locker room and worked carefully to tuck each strand of hair into the cap. Since City Sports had already sized the goggles for me, all I needed to do was set them on my face, walk into the pool area, and get into the water. But as I was about to step onto the ladder, a trainer working with a client in the pool (the client was in the pool; the trainer was walking on the deck as she swam) greeted me in that very sincere friendly way that made me want to lift the cap off my ears so I could return the pleasantry. I settled everything back into the cap and onto my face and got in the water, sharing a lane with Mark Spitz.
