Last week’s series was great because I had a ton of you asking me a ton of questions (which is always a good thing).  It’s good mainly because I love to answer questions…unless you’re one of my children…and I just got on the phone.  Let me focus.

The number one question asked was,  “Am I skinny fat?”  Or basically, what constitutes being skinny fat?  And the way it was asked was like I had some big book on the side of my desk about the size of an almanac that had all kinds of guidelines and questions in it like what’s in “other natural flavors” and “do bananas have seeds”.  It was quite interesting and quite telling.

First, you should know by now you can’t ask me a question like that because I’m just going to go into a ten minute over the top diatribe about fat levels and our perception of ourselves vs. gaining muscle and so on that in the end is tragic and hard to listen to.  I think in a polite way I am referring to myself as a blowhard.  Whatever.  If the shoe fits…

Second, what you’re really asking me is, “I know you can’t see me right now, cuz this is just through email an’all, but…is the small farm animal hanging off my backside…fat?  Or is it just displaced muscle?  Because I have been ignoring it for months and I was hoping you would alleviate my fears by telling me I’m ok.”  Honestly, you know I won’t get on board with any of that so stop asking me to call you fat.  Personally, I am not a fan of the term but seeing as ‘thin body wrapped in strategically placed insulation to keep the woman warm’ wasn’t a big hit, I’m going with skinny fat for now.

Third, it is just too hard to put into words what it is because as soon as you do that, the exception walks into the room.  (Who can guess how much I people watch and observe body types?)

Lastly, there is nothing wrong with you.  You are not “fat”, unattractive, useless and whatever other negative word you may want to put in there because you have extra body fat.  What you are, though, is unhealthy and that concerns me more.  Weight is an indicator that something is wrong in Dodge but when it is absent, what’s left is undetected illness.  Stay on top of your healthy habits.  Cool?

So I am not going to give you a hard and fast rule, but I will give you some ideas by telling you that skinny fat girls:

Put NASA on alert

One of the things about being SF (makes me feel better about the term) is that they are smooshy.  They look good in clothing but when they are not in clothing much more is revealed about their current eating habits.  In other words, if you can take a size 4 body and shove it into a size 2 pair of pants in such a way that when you take them off a sonic boom is released into the atmosphere from the expansion, you may be on your way to SF.  Now you would think that about *any* size girl, but not so!  With SF girls, they still *look* good in those size 2’s.

Are Off the Charts

Most of us have no idea what is an appropriate amount of body fat to have once we have entered into the clean eating zone.  We start out looking ok/good—basically, not bad per se—at about 22% body fat.  We fully invest ourselves into the eating and lifting regimen for a season or so and can get down to as low as 11-14% body fat.  We realize we need a break from killing ourselves and ease up to about 16 -17%, which is awesome but now we think we’re obese.  Really right now?!  So our idea of what’s an acceptable body fat level is not exactly what I would call a ‘good litmus’.  BUT, if you are a grown woman and fit into your doctor’s weight chart as an acceptable weight for your age (because let’s face it, those charts are biased toward prepubescent nymphs that live in a fairy land somewhere) and your body fat % is 24% or over, you may be skinny fat.  So if you’re 5’9”, weigh 125 pounds and are 25% body fat…you would be…really SF.

Are Like Cockroaches and Taxes

…they have just always “been”.  Almost all SF girls have been just that—SF—all their lives.  Yeah they may fluctuate a few pounds here and there (as much as 15 and then qualify for NASA) but for the most part, dey small gurls.  Small.  Real small.    And not much is changing that other than hardcore prayers from some haters and maybe a bad, bad, bad break up.  But other than that, that’s who they are.  So…if you dieted down to that small of size but also, that high of body fat level—that’s not SF.  That’s bad dieting.  You need to knock your coach upside his/her head and hope that your weight doesn’t bounce back up like a superball dropped from the roof of your house.

So there you have it.  If I met you and assessed you and you had any of these things, the only thing that I would think is:

• You need to clean up your diet.
• You need to lift heavy and smart.
• Cardio is not the answer.
• Watch out for alcohol, it’s not your friend.

That’s it.  Nothing more.  So no more asking me questions phrased in a way that I can hear the fear coming through the email.  You, like the rest of us, just have some bad habits that need attention but you are still worthy and gorgeous as far as we are concerned.  Cool?  Woop woop!!

Recently I read an article that debunked the statement that the world is getting dumber every year.  This has been going on for some time now because many people claim that our children are not as smart as generations before them since they can no longer do math by hand or type a straightforward letter.  Simply not true says the article and how they clear this myth up is by saying that the measuring rod is moved up every year to keep the kids looking dumb but in reality their IQ scores are actually 24 points higher than ours were back in the day.  (I, personally, find that hard to believe since rap has eroded into a hodge podge of non-sense otherwise known as Lil’ Wayne and TV has shows like the Kardashians and Jersey Shore dominate the air waves—but hey, what do I know?)  But something is up because I feel like I am caught in a time warp labeled Ground Hog Day and my days are filled with having the same conversation over and over again.  Can’t some things just go away?

I have spoken about Snopes.com and UrbanLegend.com and really love them for getting rid of internet hoax stuff but why can’t we have one for exercise and nutrition?  There would be some serious information removed from the web if this was enacted and it would probably put some magazines out of business. It would also create peace of mind for those of us who are in the business of making hot bodies so we could exit the Vortex of bad information and never ending myths.  I honestly feel like there is some high level conspiracy out there that keeps these myths-a-coming at a rate faster than the average trainer can quench.  (Hence the woman at the gym who still does side bends with weights.)

Seeing as this week is all about reality, it’s only appropriate to continue on from building into the most controversial topics of all, dieting.  We need to dispel some hype behind dieting so that on Monday, when you become the most focused woman to ever hit the planet, it lasts long enough to take you into Tuesday.  Cool?

WHAT IT IS

Dieting is a way of life that starts every Monday.  Somewhere between the ages of 0 and 4 we are taught that anything that tastes good needs to be severely restricted.  By 7 we are fully dieting even though we don’t even need to lose weight.  It is now taught as a part of science in the 7^th grade and shows up at times on the SATs as a “test” question (you know, the ones that don’t count):  “If Jane spends 2 hours on the TM per day, eats only lettuce and chicken for every meal except breakfast for which she has sawdust and pushes her car to work, how much weight will she lose by the end of the week?” Pick from one of the following:

• 1 pound

• 2 pounds

• 3 pounds

• None—she lost her mind on the 2^nd day and tore through her refrigerator like the Tazmanian Devil on crack.  Now she’s up 5.  Is it Monday yet?

TECHNICAL FACTS TO CHEW ON

Training:  Fast and furious.  No circuit training!!  Metabolic confusion all the way.

Food:  Some…but not much.  No matter how much you are told not to, you will over diet.

Supplements:  A few but nothing like building.  Fish oil is a must.

Rest:  As much as possible but since you’ll be ready to digest your innards, you’ll have a hard time sleeping.  Herbal tea comes in handy here.

THE FINE PRINT

All kidding aside (for maybe one paragraph, I can’t promise), there is nothing romantic about dieting.  Some of us begin the dreams of tricked out Coach coolers with designer chicken in them complete with matching Lulu Lemon pants and tops as if that combo has guaranteed a certain amount of weight loss.  And depending on where you are in your weight loss journey, nothing—not even dieting—can guarantee you some weight loss.  However, none of that is going to help you out when you find yourself in week 5 of dieting, down only a pound and fully frustrated that it seemed much easier the first time around.  Psst…it was easier.

First, whatever you did before to get lean is not going to work this time.  Wait, let me repeat that because I know you didn’t hear that and you’re going to shoot me an email that says, “I did such and such before so I’m going to do it again.  Could you tell me…”  and I’m going to be forced to jump through my computer screen and give you a noogie.  Whatever…you did…prior to today…to get lean…will not…that means won’t… “work”…the second time around.  I don’t care if you don’t use marinade on your meat or if you wear a weight vest during cardio; whatever you do the second time around better be better than the first.  Period.

Second, you will not lose like the first time around.  So as you gear up for next week as the week you’re about to put  the smack down on those 13 pounds you deposited this season, know that it will not come off like some kind of linear magic:  Week 1= 2 #, Week 2=2#, Week 3=1#  and so on.  Instead, it will look more like

(X² + Y² – Z_happiness)/significant other = I ^{meltdown at the mall}

and you will lose nothing for about 3 weeks and then suddenly drop 4 pounds in two days and so the madness continues.

Just like building, there are some things you need to consider when embarking on a 12 week diet to lean out:

• You will automatically forget how hard it was the first time and think it should come off easier and faster than it does.

• You have less patience.

• It’s not fun anymore so you are less willing to suffer for the cause.  You will cut corners, nibble, complain, nag, question and doubt from day 1.  This is the same for having babies.  When you get pregnant with number 2, you are in your doctor’s office trying to get an epidural at week 10 of your pregnancy talking about your back hurts already.  It’s a long haul.

• Give yourself an extra 14 days to get back in the groove.  You will be RUSTY on Monday.

• For the first month you will have at least 10 engagements to go to that involve open bar, buffet, dim sum and any other smorgasbord type of arrangement that’s going to remind you how long 12 weeks really is.

• You will lose in the mirror before you do on the scale!!!!!!!  Do not forget this or you will sabotage your progress!

• You will think you are fatter than you really are which will make you make bad dieting decisions.  This is the weight loss factor.  Multiply it by the number of pounds you have to lose and that’s how big you think you are.  WLF=3.  Have to lose 10.  Crap, I’m up 30.

Ok…you know the deal.  Tomorrow I put numbers to this and break it down because as funny as this is, it really is scary and this is where we lose our minds as sane, informed women.  You can diet successfully the second time around; it’s just not as easy as it sounds.  But the good news is it’s doable!  Armed with the right information, you can absolutely make this goal happen as opposed to going in blindsided and crashing and burning by week 4.  Cool?  See you tomorrow.  Woop woop!

I’m sure some of you have figured out that I have some issues.  From the butter obsession (that I must say I do not indulge upon, just dream about) to my pen/journal  fixation, it is clear that I can come across a bit unhinged at times.  Let me assure you that I have been cured of those afflictions and now sit in a place where I can at least look back at them and giggle.  Another gift that I have been given is learning that is ‘less is more’.  This is one that I hope to instill in you, as well.  This is tough for us type A folks because we are so extreme in all that we do.  If we are going to be an underwater basket weaver, we are going to be THE BEST underwater basket weaver there is.  Knowing me I’d learn how to do it with every possible type of reed available to weave and I’d understudy with a reedologist and I would complete an accredited course on basket weaving and become a certified weaver and—you get the point.  This is a perfect illustration as to why it was so important for me to learn the principle of ‘less is more’ before I became a walking symbol for destruction.

In the case of building muscle when you are lean, less is definitely more.  Or as I like to say, “Just a dab’ll do ya!”.  Give up the dreams of waking up tomorrow with shoulder caps so round you could hang your coat on them.  Walk away from the idea that in 12 weeks you’ll develop your glutes to the point that you could pick up your kids and carry them to the car while your hands are full.  These things are fallacies and because you believe that you can achieve them, you allow your desires to talk your head right out of common sense; because common sense would tell you if it was that easy, everyone would have them.  But you aren’t thinking like that right now.  You have visions of iron clad butt cheeks with tennis ball like caps separated by a rigid 6 pack…it’s scary in your mind right now.  So let’s get you back to reality, girl.  You’re out of control.

Gaining muscle takes time.  There I said it.  It takes time, lots of consistency and due diligence.  And honestly, if you don’t have any of that right now, keep doing what you’re doing until you do have time to do it fully.  (Essentially, if I keep you from thinking about how long it takes and you just keep doing it, you’ll get there without realizing it.  Wait til I tell you tomorrow that developing a tight body takes time, too.  You’ll really flip your lid then.)  Because it takes forever and a day (did I say that?), do not set aside times to specifically gain muscle and lose body fat like they used to back in the day.  You are going down a long dark road doing it that way.  Instead, let’s look at an alternative way to give you the shoulders and glutes you so desire.

YOU’VE GOT MY ATTENTION, NOW WHAT?

Wow.  Fiesty today, are we?  Ok, let’s get specific.

What you need to effectively build is a surplus of calories, ample rest and full recovery from effective workouts.  Since we have come to the conclusion that we are not going to be Arnold by the end of 12 weeks, it is not necessary for us to eat like him either.  An easy way to create a surplus sans calories is to do much less than before.  This means the only activity you would do during this period of time is lift.  No cardio, Zumba, pilates, power yoga or any other activity that makes you sweat.  Nothing.  And you would also rest more than you did before so you will create an even larger surplus of calories.  If you tell me that you cannot rest more because your life is go, go, go kind of busy, I will give you that look that says, “Well then you must not want to build right now then do you?”  Please refer back to Saturday when I said there is no whining and yes you have to do all that I say.  If you can’t cut your schedule down and rest, you can’t build right now.  All of this is important because you are not going to eat too much more than what you are right now maintaining.  At best you may go up 200 cals, but not much more than that so you can see why you becoming part of your couch is necessary.   We do not feed you more, we move you less.  It works really well without all the extra poundage that is incurred through traditional stuffing programs.

WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT?

For all age groups, a bit of paranoia is to be expected.   If you are used to doing cardio 5 days a week right now, going down to none may make you freak out a bit.  You may also be more anxious because you just lost your daily stress relief.  However, it is still a better alternative to the freak out you would have eating extra starches in a day with a steady weight gain on the scale.  That, my dear, is a harrowing experience.  And you can expect minimal weight gain.  Seriously, you should gain no more than 10 but 7 is optimal over the course of 12 weeks.

TWENTY SOMETHING:

You can expect…well…not much.  Your ability to build muscle at this age is like my ability to give you a straight answer without some kind of wisecrack—hard.  You are going to slog away at the weights like it’s your job and have very little to show for it.  Especially if you are curvy.  The curvier you are, the less muscle you will make.  Sorry.  Just accept it.  So why depress you with this?  To keep you from thinking you’re doing something wrong and thereby attempt every lifting program/ergogenic aid under the sun which will in turn screw up your body for your thirties.

THIRTY SOMETHING:

You can expect the world.  At this age, it is at your fingertips.  Hormonally you are ripe for the picking.  You make muscle easier, you have the beginnings of muscle maturity and you aren’t calling your girlfriend every five minutes anymore as to what she is wearing so there is this inner peace and patience about that helps you stay focused.  This is a great age.  Get in the gym now and never come out!

FORTY SOMETHING:

You can expect density.  You will not get “bigger” but what you have will be fuller.  This is the look we all really strive for.  You are past your prime of making muscle and now are on a hormonal decline.  I know that well known dr. type folk are coming out saying the contrary but they are talking about general public making some muscle.  I am talking about you, the lifting elite, making more muscle.  Very different.  It ain’t happening now without a major battle or you being genetically gifted out the wazoo.  But you are in the age of making nice, full shoulder caps without trying.  Not two oranges sitting atop your clavicles, but a subtle attractive fullness that comes from muscle maturity.  And boy do we have focus now at this age.  Not only are we not calling our girlfriends, we are lucky if we keep our phones on.  And rest is not an issue.  We’re in bed by 9.  Shame.

I will put numbers to all of this when I wrap this series up.  Next up, dieting.  What you can really expect and how long it takes to truly get that lean look.  I will end with a talk on skinny fat because it is a daunting place to be and someone needs to put that reality out there for some of you.  I will put the numbers in that post or the one right after it but I promise to give you something very concrete to walk away with.  If you are signed up on the blog, you are getting the numbers today.  That is an advantage of being signed up.  Hang tight, there’s more to come!  Woop woop!

I go to the gym every morning right after I throw my kids out of the car while it’s still moving drop my kids off at school.  Today was no different (although I will say they landed much better today).  So here I am, minding my own business (who believes this?) and I catch a glimpse of a man with an extended belly on one of the 100 TV screens going across the wall.  (Seriously, I am all for a bit of TV but jeez louise!)

First, I have to say I do not watch TV.  Not my thing.  So it’s a big deal that I “caught” this news story while it was on.  Second, I loathe ANYTHING fitness on TV—hence my last post—so to know I stopped long enough to know what it was about is a miracle.  But there is a trainer out there somewhere who was a hot body but has purposefully gained 80 pounds so he could see what his clients are currently going through and to inspire them along as he loses it with them.

I truly applaud your efforts and your honesty about how hard this has been but volunteering to be heavy is not the same thing as being heavy and judgment against heavy men is no where NEAR as bad as judgment against heavy women.

Ok…my mind is everywhere right now so let me get this out slowly.

1. WOW!!  Are YOU full of yourself or what?  Now, granted…he admits in the clip that he did not expect to go through the emotional stuff that he has gone through but STILL!  WOW!  Ahh-Row-Gance!
2. The majority of his clients are most likely women (we are 80% of the training market) so the point would have been made better if his WIFE did it but I’m sure she told him to go fly a kite and where to fly it too!!
3. This is only relevant if he is stressed to the max, has 2 kids hanging off his leg and was infused with estrogen when we weren’t looking.
4. This is the hugest smack in the face to anybody who has gained a ton of weight.  There are 2 kinds of weight gain: 0-20 and sometimes up to 30lbs is normally a case of “I have no idea how that happened” and all you need to do is get your head out of your behind and get going.  Then there is “30 and above” which is more of an indication that something isn’t right somewhere.  Could be emotional, could be physical, most likely it’s both.  But the point is, you don’t get to 80 pounds overweight because you love bread.

ANYBODY?  CAN I GET A WITNESS HERE?

I am having a MOMENT right now in my office.  Oh we have SO MUCH to talk about!!

When’s the last time you looked at a man’s weight loss and got inspired? PLEASE!  I love my husband with everything I have.  We have been together 24 years this coming February.  There is no other for me.  But when he gets up in the morning on a Monday and says he’s up a few pounds and needs to do something about it and then on TUESDAY—read that…TUESDAY—says he’s down 4 pounds since the day before, I want to impale him with stick of salami!  Anyone?!  I could be talking to him and he will lose weight as I’m speaking:  “Baby…did you…just drop…a few pounds…while I was…NEVERMIND.  Pick those few pounds up off the carpet before it leaves a stain.  Jerk.”  GRRRR!

Losing weight the first time around is EASY!  Piece of cake!!  Seriously!  You are almost afraid to jump out of bed in the morning for fear a piece of your butt might go flying!!  But every time you gain back a few of those pounds you lose, it becomes harder and harder to take off again.  Suddenly the tricks no longer work:  cutting out carbs, eating just chicken and green beans for 5 weeks, lots of cardio…you name it.  Then it turns from shock to frustration and from frustration to panic and from panic to either depression or depravity.  Either way, it’s not a good scene.

Oh it is time, ladies, to learn how the body really works for us.  To understand what it takes to get a fit body, be fit and stay fit and what to do if we deviate a little and want to come back to being fit without selling our soul to the scale.  And to realize there is a WOMAN attached to that goal.  You know…one who has feelings…one who is self conscious…one who just wants this to be over…

I want to be very clear as I wrap this up.  First, I hold no ill will towards this man and truly, truly pray that someone is blessed by his journey.  I honestly know that he has no idea how he is coming across to those of us who work with women all time and that he has the best intentions with his efforts.  If you leave knowing anything after reading today’s post, I pray you know that.  Second, there is a battle out there, ladies.  It’s called sanity and it is a fleeting target.  Try to get through a day without losing your mind watching all the madness out there.  Pour that frustration into a sensible, hard workout and a clean eating day and you will make it through.  And thirdly, I promise I will begin to tell you how to lose body fat, truly be healthy–not just thin and sick and keep your sanity while doing it over and over and over and over (did I say over?) again.  Cool?

Ciao for now!!  Woop woop!!

Every so often I get the urge to let y’alls into my bizarre mind. Knowing it is a scary and dangerous place to be, I try not to venture there but sometimes I just feel compelled. Today is one of those days—and I promise I’ll keep it brief because this is not what my post is about. But I had to tell you this because it explains why when you work with us and you have to speak with me every week, I pick up on things you think I have no idea about and then I call you on it.

I have a small obsession with pens. Yes, pens…and journals and notebooks but for this story only the pens matter. In my office, on my desk is a myriad of pens. All kinds of pens of every manner BUT…they all are part of a complete set. In other words, I won’t buy a single pen. I won’t open a pack of pens and only know where 2 of them are. I won’t lose the cap to a pen. I won’t let the pen separate from the notebook it’s been assigned to. Are you nervous yet b/c it gets more bizarre than this. So on my desk are “sets” of pens. There must be at least 8 or 9 sets open, laid out flat, in order of the way they were in the pack and etc. Some still in the pack if it had some kind of special plastic wrapper or something. SAD. Who’s feelin’ this with me?

The other day I sit in my office to get some work done and something’s wrong. Not quite sure what it is but I sense something’s not right. I start to look around my office like a deer in the forest that smells trouble but nothing’s jumping out at me. All of a sudden I realize a pen is missing from one of the sets (mind you, there’s at least 8 sets on my desk in various locations.) I look all over my office: under my desk, under my books on my desk, in the pen cups (this is where the dead sets go) that are on my desk but I can’t find the purple one from my ballpoint pens. I find nothing. I suspect my kids since their desks are right outside my office but I honestly think to myself, “They know better.” I start searching any ways and I realize my husband is watching TV downstairs. He looks at me like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar and I see him…and then past him…and there is my pen. And he realizes that I see him…and then the pen and this is all within 3 seconds of each other—like this secret meeting of the pen people or something and he says in a super incredulous voice, “Did you just come out of your office to look for this pen?” My face at this point is silently screaming, “Oh no you didn’t”…alongside, “You better put that back when you’re done.” And he starts this loud rant of, “I cannot believe with the 1800 pens you have on your desk in all the little piles, that you could figure out that one of them was missing. You can look for your car keys every day because you have no idea where you put them, but you mean to tell me you knew one pen was missing?” Um…yeah. Just keep this story in mind when I call you ladies on something and you are hoping I didn’t notice. Haha!

This week I want to know one thing from everyone: why, as women, are we so cruel to other women?

First, let me preface this question by saying that I do not mean cruel in the sense of hurting each other’s feelings. That’s a different blog post for a different blog somewhere on the internet. I am asking this in the context of food and exercise.

If I am on a diet, my friends are on a diet—or I am going to nag them any time they do something enjoyable.

If I am not on a diet and my friends are, I am going to get them to go down hard with me as I order dessert at a restaurant.

If I am tired and don’t want to work out, I am going to convince them to come to the mall with me and skip their work out by nagging them into next week.

Basically, misery loves company. Why do we do this? Why are we not rah-rah-shish-coom-bah’ing them to keep up the good fight of faith while we languish on the sidelines?

The other day I walked into a favorite store of mine. I go there often so they know who I am—not to mention I’m hard to miss. I am a big personality, I am incredibly happy and I love to spread love. So when I go in there, I am like Norm from Cheers.

This particular day I was the only one in the store so as I walked in and headed toward the counter, I began to speak right away. “Hey girl, how are you? I haven’t seen you—“ I suddenly cut my sentence short because I noticed a box of chocolate brickle type candy to my right and I scream—literally, “Oh my goodness who brought this in here and what are you trying to do to me?!” I mean scream—did I mention I am loud? And she laughs (probably out of both amusement and fear because there’s a big afro coming at her in 3d and it is being preceded by a big mouth) and motions for me to have some and says something to the tune of, “Don’t leave me here to eat this all by myself.”

WOW. How can she do me like that? I’m a good customer. I pay my bill on time. I give them great business. And on the counter is 45 min on an arc trainer, 2 weeks of dieting and an increase in my dress size all packed in this little white box. A decision needs to be made here: do I go down hard or do I stick to my guns. Here’s my thought process…

It’s just a small piece. What’s the big deal?
You don’t need it. Nor did you work it into this week. It will make you want more.
I would tell a client to live a little and have it. Life is too short and calorically it’s negligible.
You just had a post about what not to have as a cheat meal—don’t be a jackass.
I love chocolate/caramel/heath bar crunch kind of brickle. Satan dropped this off 2 min before I arrived. Rat bastard.
You can get this anywhere, at any time, knock it off.
Wait…is that peanut brittle under there?

Who understands that all of that conversation shot through my head in less than 2 seconds while I was still being a big head of uncontrollable hair in her store? HOLY MOLY! My simple plea is this ladies:

We must support the cause. We need solidarity. Just say no to samples of candy given by honest, hard working store clerks.

These intermittent attempts to bring each other down are just so unfair and exhausting. I promise I won’t do this to you, why must you do it to me? Of course I am being dramatic—that’s my M.O. but there is a spirit of truth here. On one hand we need to learn moderation and have a treat here and there, on the other hand we need to keep that kind of stuff to ourselves and give big afro’d women a break from time to time. KWIM??

In all seriousness the big take away here is know your limits. Have it if you know you can shut it down—don’t if you know it’s going to mess you up for the week. But calorically, a piece is not going to do any harm so please do not let that be the reason why you say no.

I will be spending today putting the rest of the finishing touches on the new website coming for Trans4mation Station. If you have the answer to this problem, would you mind putting it below? Somebody shed some light on this conspiracy, please! Slinking off to my office…defeated…because that was peanut brittle under there…yum…but hopeful…because of full knowledge of where all my pens are…hehe…woop woop!

I always say this and I truly mean this: I love what I do. I have been doing this for a very long time and as I grow older and wiser to the ways of you crazy ladies, I have learned a thing or two about food choices. One of the most asked questions of me besides ‘how can I tighten my bum?’ is “What can I have as a cheat meal?” Depending on where you are in your dieting, my answer typically is, “Anything you want. But if I was you, I wouldn’t have…”

CHEESE
I would avoid cheese like a strange substance on a park bench—and I mean that literally! Cheese begets cheese. Are you following me? But more importantly, cheese is an experience. Mostly a texture and salt experience, cheese feels good on the palette. It validates whatever meal you are eating. Not a fan of veggies? Put cheese on them and suddenly you can eat your veggies, your friend’s veggies, veggie platters, okra—who cares!

Of course whenever I tell someone to avoid cheese they ask about cottage cheese, which by the way does not count. I am only referring to hard cheeses so cottage, ricotta and feta do not count as cheeses to avoid. Everything else, though, will send you down the river without paddles, fast!

You cannot recover from a meal with cheese. Pizza for instance will set you back at least 2 days, possibly 3. If you think you are going to have pizza Saturday night and steel cut oats on Sunday morning and not notice the difference, you are fooling yourself. When I say ‘set you back’, I do not mean by weight gain. I mean by focus. Suddenly, everything needs cheese. Your eggs, your tuna, yourself at 4 in the afternoon when you are suddenly alone with a stick of Crackerbarrel cheddar cheese and are unsure how half of it is missing even though it was new when you took it out of the fridge. You know, everything. Honestly, spare yourself the pain of overshooting your cheat/treat meal (call it what you like, it is what it is)and avoid cheese.

ICE CREAM
WOW! Now here’s the beginning of Armageddon. Forget what people say about 2012 coming, your downfall is contained in a pint-sized package managed by 2 guys and a cow—Ben and Jerry. I have 3 words for you: DON’T DO IT. I would rather sharpen my pinky in an electric pencil sharpener before I would ever have ice cream as a cheat meal. Now first of all I have to be honest…I do not like ice cream. It doesn’t do it for me and I could truly take or leave it. But the rest of you would sell your first born to the Kathy Gifford College of Sweater Making located in luxurious downtown New Delhi just to get a ½ cup of the sinful treat in a flavor you may not even like. You want some fun? People watch at a restaurant and look for a woman who has ordered ice cream for dessert. The only thing more scandalous is the awkward scene from When Harry Met Sally—and if you haven’t seen it, do so to know what I am talking about.

Ice cream is a total assault of the palette. It’s a beat down that you are not equipped to handle half way through your dietary regimen that you so proudly have been enduring. Texture: heavenly. Not only is it smooth and creamy, it’s ice cold. Taste: outrageous. Stuffed with just about anything you can think of, ice cream is an aggregation of flavors. Experience: unlike any other. If you go for a sundae, you have hot, cold and sweet at the same time and that is just hard to resist. Here…take these nails…you’ll need them for your coffin.

What ice cream does is make everything in your life pale in comparison. Suddenly your husband isn’t attractive anymore. Calling him Chunky Monkey doesn’t make him any more appealing than he was before you dropped your face in the container. Good try, though. You almost wished that uncomfortable and unpleasant things came with ice cream: “Hi Ms. Jones, good to see you here for your annual exam. Here is a robe to change into and you will find a dish of buttercrunch ice cream with sprinkles in the examination room to help you through the appointment. Enjoy.” Women would be lined up with all kinds of fake ailments if this ever happened. The medical insurance system would be thrown for a loop with false claims left and right.

My point: it is so hard to return to a focused diet the day after ice cream that it is not funny. Nothing tastes good. Nothing shuts down the craving. Nothing compares to peanut butter mocha fudge almond praline with sprinkles and whip cream on top except mmm…yum… baked chicken with broccoli. Why didn’t I think of that? (total sarcasm there)
When you hit maintenance, have some ice cream. Til then, avoid it like the rails on the staircases of the subway station. Ewww.

ALCOHOL
I am going to make this one brief because it’s simple. One drink makes every seem ok. From eating your whole fridge to going on a second date with someone you would never go on a second date with, alcohol makes you lose your senses. And then on top of that, it makes you feel like crap the next day so that you indulge even more. We have all learned this lesson the hard way, but let’s try to help those out who may not know: avoid this!

I have a post on here about this and you should read it when you have time.

In the mean time, choose your cheat meals wisely. They really do make a difference in your diet experience.

If you hang out with me for a week you are in for an adventure simply because my life is crazy and honestly, I love every minute of it. I have a good amount of people that I see during the week as well as those that I get to love all over through our online services and our bootcamp class. But having that eclectic of a week somehow puts me in the wildest situations that either provide a really good laugh or give me some material for the “odd fodder” of the week. This past week was no different although what I am about to mention happened to me and not to one of y’alls.

So glad this happened to me and not to you! 

Looks Like I Picked A Bad Week
…to step on the scale at my doctor’s office. Yes, you heard me. What’s with the doctor scales of the world? By habit alone I weigh myself every day. Unlike some of you crazy ladies, it doesn’t bother me what it says so I can get on it every day and read the number as if I was checking the weather. It fluctuates just the same as it does for you (please read that again—I feel as if that was a word to deliver some of you out of scale bondage every day so for me it’s just a matter of Que sera, sera. So I have a doctor’s appointment yesterday and the lovely nurse walked me down the Hall of Judgment to step on the scale. Automatically my mind begins to think about the setup. First, I am at a “woman’s” appointment. Need I say more? So that means the only clients that these folks have are women…why is the scale in the hallway? Again, this isn’t for me. My mind starts to think of all of you that I speak with every week. This is NOT a good setup. A man set this office up and then left it for women to run and they, feeling boxed in like a velvet rope, stuck with it because I can’t think of one of my clients who would want to step on a scale in a busy hallway that has a digital readout large enough for Stevie Wonder to see. Anybody hearing me on this one?

As nice as she was, the clipboard gave her true intentions away.

She motions for me to get on the scale and I realize that she has the same outfit on as the grim reaper. What is that about? Regardless, I hop on. Ladies, it read ten pounds more than it did 3 hours ago in my bathroom.

Yes. Ten. Pounds. More.

I didn’t say a word. I smiled at the nurse, checked the brand of the scale and made a mental note about it and then I looked up in time to catch the look of judgment from Ginny Reaper the nurse. Now was she really judging me? No. But that scale read ten pounds more than what I am and at THAT moment SOMETHING was judging me!

All I could think about is what that phone call would like…

“Hey girl, what’s up? How are you this week?”
No hi, no lead in, can hear heavy breathing on the phone.
“Jodi. The scale read ten pounds more at my doctor’s office than what I am at my house scale.” Voice is at an alarming pitch that within the pitch seems to scream, ‘You better pull the best trainer rhetoric you have stored in that creative mind of yours or I’m about to lose it in 3 languages.’
I try to interject, although at this time I am beginning to panic and I don’t even know why.
“Girl, what did I tell you about the scales in doctor’s offices? They always read at least 5 pounds mo—“
I get cut off by a shrill tone that now has escalated to a fever pitch which sounds like, ‘I’ve been waiting all week to sink my teeth into you , don’t tell me anything you told me before. I am no longer rational.’
“Yes, but Jodi”, oh I’m in trouble now, “it read ten pounds more. Not 5—10. How can that be?” You and I know that last question was not one that was to be answered because I would most likely try to open my mouth to speak and she’d just cut me off right then and continue on…
“Does that mean 5 of that is mine? Am I really up 5 pounds? That can’t be water. I don’t understand. Which one is right? How can 2 scales differ that much? Isn’t it a professional scale seeing as it’s in my doctor’s office? Isn’t that the most accurate? Have I weighed that much all along? I can’t go on vacation now/I can’t get married/I can’t go to work…now.” These statements are coming faster than the 5 pounds she gained from the home scale to the doctor’s scale. At this point I choose the easy way out and I gnaw off of a limb with a wild animal I found in my backyard, claimed medical emergency and told her I’d call her back after the limb was re-attached.

Out of my imagination and back to my doctor’s office…

Second, Ginny now leads me to the patient room where I am to now wait for the doctor to come.

By myself. After I have just been judged.

I suddenly realized that there were no sharp objects in the room anywhere. I don’t think that’s by accident. I half expect that they have a room somewhere in the office that when you open the door it goes to nowhere. It’s a cliff and every woman they just put on the scale of judgment heads over there some time during their appointment and hops off. I bet if I went into the basement of doom there would be a pile of women on top of each other, writhing in agony while screaming loud screams of torment about “10 pounds” and “how could it be?”

“Beautiful scene.  And below you will find a heap of women who jumped off after getting on the scale at their doctor’s office.  Don’t get too close to the edge.  Let’s move on folks, we have a tight schedule.”

I truly sat there thinking two things: 1) I have to write about this and I pray they see the humor in this and our behavior as women and 2) that’s not cool of my doctor’s office to be that out of whack for a scale measurement. Heck yeah I am sticking with their scale being wrong! Now granted, I was dressed when they weighed me and I had already eaten but I would have had to have been wearing a bear rug with the bear still in it for crying out loud to make the scale go up by 10 pounds! I am going to be so transparent right now and tell you that that did not bother me because of my weight, that bothered me because of the phone call I would have had to have because of that erroneous piece of metal on the floor! Seriously self centered on this one. But this really drives the point home that it’s just a number and we really cannot live our lives bound up by it.

 Don’t be fooled by this innocent face.  I have gotten some of my best ‘why does the scale read’ training from this fierce woman. 

So what did I do sitting in the office? Text the one person who could seriously feel the drama of the situation…Kas. Tuesday girl. Kas sent me back the best detached lawyer response ever, “Ok well, that’s a bit disconcerting. That really is enough to make you scream.” At first glance you may be thinking that that is a rational, calm response. I have known Kas long enough to know that the following thoughts were flowing through her mind (in no particular order):

What the…
Better you than me…
Right now I am up to my whazoo in tax crap, don’t put that stress on me…
Could that happen?…
Wait, she didn’t tell me which one was the right one…
I’d need some drugs to make it through that appointment…
I’d cry…
If she’s texting me, she must be upset…if Jodi’s upset I’d kill myself…wait, I can’t think about this now, I’m up to my whazoo in tax crap…but was she upset?…

Hahahahaha!! I love Kas. And I honestly do not know if she was really thinking this or not, but I know I’m close!

Ladies, get off the scale. Know it’s just a number. Enjoy your life. It’s too short to be bossed around by a box on the floor. I love you way too much to let that happen.  The email series starts today. You know where to find me. Peace.

Is she not the cutest thing?  Lots of stuff going on in the background.  We’re adding programs, sites, resources, you name it!  Look for this site soon…

 I loathe being sick. I am the biggest baby in the whole wide world and I absolutely cannot stand to be sick. And I have noticed that illness has a funny way of showing up right in the beginning of a new workout adventure. This time is no different. On Monday I started a new thing with timed sets and I had it all mapped out how I was going to do it. Then the hack set in. By Tuesday night I sounded like a seal looking for food in the Boston Aquarium. I can barely sit up to type this but I figured I could make it through a ten minute post.;)
Being sick, though, brings on one of the most tumultuous times in our weekly workout lives. (Let me make sure I specify that because in the grand scheme of life, this means nothing.) Should I or should I not work out?

Really at the heart of this matter is, ‘Am I being a big baby?’ Let me clear this up for you: who cares. Stay your infectious behind home because I probably caught this from one of y’all clowns who were on a mission to work out. Sorry, let me get back to the point. The problem isn’t whether you should work out or not, it’s how much the question torments you all day long before you decide to go or not.

First you hit Web MD. After realizing that you have malaria and issues with your prostate (yes, you’re female), you continue on to other websites. They effectively diagnose you with anything from a sinus infection to full blown whooping cough. After that gets old, you email your girlfriend. See, you’re well enough to go to work and infect others but you may not be well enough to work out. This must be answered! She tells you to go home. You want to listen to her but secretly you feel as if she is trying to sandbag your efforts. You have one eyebrow up right now and you’re not sure you trust her any more. Obviously a side effect of the illness. You decide she’s right and you settle on going home after work. Then your other girlfriend emails you and tells you that she was just sick but during that time she finished a marathon, cleaned her garage out and started quilting. You’re mad as a hornet. You just finished convincing yourself to go home. By now it’s after lunch time at work and you’re exhausted. You’ve expended more energy trying to figure out if you should work out or not than actually working out!

At 5:00pm your head is on fire and you feel defeated. You slowly put your coat on, grab your workout clothes, slink to your car to head to the gym and go for it. You’re not going out like a punk. You’ll just do cardio and that’s it. When you get to the gym, you bring your bag in, change into your clothes and realize you left your workout sneakers at home. So much for being sick and working out. *Sigh*

This is not the only thing in our lives that can consume this much of our time. There are others such as:

Do I have a cheat meal or not?
What do I have for a cheat meal?
Wait, I had a semi cheat this week, should I have another?
I missed a cardio session, do I double up or skip it?
I am going away this weekend, do I risk working out in the hotel gym or do a bodyweight program?
Can I count my blah-blah as blah-blah since I won’t have time to do them separately? Insert functional, yoga, cardio…whatever here.

These issues can suck productivity out of you like a vacuum cleaner in a fish tank. By the time you are done debating them, you don’t even want the cheat meal any more. Shame. We, as women, will never change.

In the mean time, I am going to go lie down. I am not even entertaining the thought of working out today and we’ll see how tomorrow goes, too. There is no debate here. I am sick…and a big baby, too. Woop woop!

I tend to be more serious in my posts although truth-be-told, I really can be quite laid back and funny.  Ok, well maybe I am not all that laid back, but I am working on it….but I can be quite light hearted and funny.  That is why I decided it was time for a less-serious post.  Bear with me, I’m not used to these . 

 The gym is a sacred place for most people.  A place we go to reduce stress, get our sweat on, work towards our goals and shut out the world.  However, I am guessing all of you have experienced those days where it seems like all other gym patrons are out to disrupt your training.  I happened to have this experience last Friday. 

 Let me set the stage.  I get up at 5 am or earlier every day in order to get my training in prior to work.  However, last Thursday I was up until midnight working.  Yep, you heard me, way past my bedtime.  Waking up for the gym 5 hours later just didn’t happen so I knew I’d be lifting with the evening crowd – a thought that makes me shudder on a good day.  My hope, however, was that since it was a Friday, the gym might be less crowded than say a Monday at 5pm. 

 I get to the gym and start my workout with a 4-exercise giant set.  One of the exercises was alternating dumbbell press on a stability ball.  There are more reasons than I feel like getting into as to why I am not a fan of that exercise.  However, it is in my program this month so I popped on my iPod to a mix of Metallica, NIN and Alice in Chains, and turned the volume up all the way.  During my second giant set, while on the stability ball holding dumbbells overhead, I look up to see a woman standing over me talking to me.  I look at here in disbelief.  Lady – I have earphones in, I can’t hear you, I am mid rep-balancing on a stability ball, holding heavy weights overhead; ARE YOU KIDDING ME????? 

 She wouldn’t go away so I dropped the weights, took out my earphones and looked at her.  (insert a lot of sighing and an annoyed look on my face)  I am not joking when she said “You should drop your butt to work your glutes more.”  Utter disbelief washed over my face.  “What?” I asked.  “With your glutes that high, you aren’t working them, drop your butt.”  I now started to become angry.  I was doing a flat DB press on a SB, my hips were in line with my chest/shoulders/head.  I am NOT working my glutes and even if I was, raising them that high does not all of a sudden stop their activation.  Needless to say, I explained to her I was not working my glutes, this is a chest exercise amongst other things.  She tried to push her point again, but saw the look on my face and walked away. 

 REALLY????  How are you going to go up to someone mid rep, earphones in, and start talking to them?

 Well, my day of disruptions was not over.  I then moved on to step-ups with a barbell across my back.  Because the gym was crowded I moved to a location in the gym far away from everyone else.  The only problem was that there was a heavy bag hanging near me.  I was, however, far enough away that anyone using the heavy bag properly would not be bothered by my location. 

 Mid rep two guys come up and decide to start using the heavy bag.  Now, if they thought it would swing near me, they could and SHOULD have waited until I was done with my set and asked me to move.  Did they do this??? NO.  Instead they started punching the bag in a manner that caused it to swing – really swing.  Now, have you ever seen a boxer punch the heavy bag in a manner that goes punch………..swing, swing, swing…….punch?  No, on guy holds the bag while the other goes to town.  The bag does not move!  Clearly these guys had no idea what they were doing.  Well, the darn bag almost took me out!  REALLY?  I am not lying.  Thankfully they only hung around for about 5 minutes. 

 As they left, they threw the gloves they were using back in the equipment box causing the entire box to open up and gloves to fall all over the floor around my feet.  I promise I am not making this up.  As they walked away I took out my earphones and yelled across the gym “You gonna put your stuff away?” When they realized I was talking to them, and after saying they did – and I responded “no you didn’t, look,” they came back over, apologized and cleaned up; probably not because I asked but because the entire gym was now watching. 

 Yes there were two more lovely stories from this gym trip but I will save those for another time.  I will say, however, that despite all of this nonsense, I got in a fabulous lift.

 I honestly believe there needs to be a gym-etiquette book because I am sure I am not the only one who has these experiences!  What about you?  We’d love to hear some of your stories.  Such as the guy who has to shower in cologne prior to working out – every gym has one of those. 

 I actually probably miss seeing most of the shenanigans that go one in the gym.  In an effort to not wear my contacts 12+ hours every day, I often don’t put my contacts in until after I work  out.  I drive to the gym with my glasses on, take them off and train without being able really see much of anything.  This means I can’t see anyone’s face.  Did I mention about 5 of my coworkers go to my gym?  Well, there has been more than one occasion where they have seen me and I have not seen them.  Not until later at work when they say “hey, saw you at the gym this morning” do I realize the person saying hi to me was someone I actually new.  I also have to lean really close to the weight rack to determine how much weight each dumbbell is.  But hey, I still manage to get in a great lift and probably miss-out on much of the craziness that goes on.

I went to my sister’s house yesterday morning and it is a bit of a drive for me, all highway, at least an hour.  It’s Sunday morning so there are very few people on the road but there was enough that you might have to dodge a few slow pokes and avoid a couple of psychos.  Halfway to her house I pick up a psycho.  A woman in a Toyota (relatively new, well kept and nice tires—just sayin’…) decides that she is going to play footsie with me.  She could not decide whether she wanted to be in front of me or behind me.  She would speed up and pass me and then moments later I would find myself passing her—and not because I was trying.  If this was a weekday, I would have ended this nonsense by just blowing past her (and the NASA space shuttle for that matter) all in one swoosh.  I drive a lawn mower for a car so this would have been an effort but I wouldn’t have cared.  I would have thought: “Off with your head!” as I left her 10 car lengths behind.. 

But it’s Sunday morning and I seriously could not have cared less.  I was groggy, enjoying my CD in my car and just loving the drive because there were no cars on the road.  So when she decided to kick it up a notch and pass me for the third time, I let her.  She must have flown by me doing at least 90 and was probably thinking the same thing I would have been thinking had I passed her—‘Off with your head!’.  I was happy to see her go and thought to myself, “I need a good wingman anyways to flush out the staties. I’ll stay close but not too close.”  No sooner did I think that than I saw him pull out from the side of the road, fly up behind her and pull her over.  You know that could have been me.  Gotta love a good wingman.

Do you have a good wingman? 

Technically, my driver friend does not fully count as a wingman because we are supposed to both be in it together for us to each other’s wingmen…but at that moment, she was mine.  And I am wondering, when it comes to dieting, do you have a wingman? 

Seriously, this is not a role to take lightly and just put any ol’ person in the position.  You need to have a friend who has your back so that when you call her up with one hand on the baked chicken breast and the other hand on the Twinkie, she knows what to do.  Dieting is hard.  Dieting with a very distinct purpose of affecting a change in your appearance more than what the general public will do is even harder.  You need someone in the trenches with you who knows how to roll with your mood swings and provide you with good advice when you find yourself leaving your husband for a molten chocolate dessert that he ate without any remorse.  Oh no, you need to really *think* about this role. 

Who is it?  Who is that person that can keep you on track even when you don’t want to be?

You don’t know?  Find them.  Fast.

These people do exist and most of the time they are not your closest friend.  They almost shouldn’t be because it’s going to get rough.  When you just cannot eat another piece of chicken or you want to poke your eyes out if you see another vegetable, they need to step in like Rocky’s trainer and slap you around like a husband in a bad Lifetime movie (such as Julia Robert’s brother who must have starred in at least 10 Lifetime movies—oy!).   Really good friends have a hard time doing that for you.  They typically sympathize with you and end up enabling you:  “You know what, girl…You haven’t had anything in a long time.  Let’s just go to dinner and get something…”  Don’t fall for this.  Get a wingman who will handle you differently:  “Girl, go in your closet and put on those jeans you want to wear.  Oh wait, they don’t fit right?  I didn’t think so.  I’ll see you at the gym in a half hour.  Be ready to do some work.”  Now THAT’s what I’m talkin’ ‘bout!

It’s January so you are most likely on a mission that’s burning hotter than Aruba with no shade.  But that’s going to fade real soon.  Like…ummm…tomorrow.  So when that happens, you need to be prepared.  Get that wingman in place now. 

She needs to be stronger than you.

She does not have to be {insert here} (skinnier, taller, prettier, etc.).  It’s not about that.  It’s about will.  She’s gotta have it.

She needs to be available.  Don’t pick your second cousin Leslie who just happens to be in jail at the moment.  Yeah she’s tough ‘n’ all but she can only call you Sunday nights after 7pm.  Not good.

She needs to have similar goals because you are riding her mojo. 

Lastly, she needs to know how to get it done.  You don’t want to be wandering in the desert for 40 years with this girl.  You want to get somewhere fast.

Right now it is all about staying on track.  Starting with the end in mind.  Doing your thing.  Getting it done.

Yes, you can do this without a good support network.  You can even do it without a good wingman.  But it won’t be anywhere near as enjoyable so do yourself a favor and go find one.  She’s ready and waiting to boss you around.;)

Or…watch your rear view mirror because whether you like it or not, you may be someone else’s wingman.

Happy Dieting!  Woop woop!:o)