emotions

Struggle.

It’s so much fun to write posts about things like “The Best Run of my Life!” It’s not so much fun to write about where I am right now. But for the sake of honesty I think it’s important. It’s not easy and joyful and mindful and strong every single day. Some days suck. This week has had some great moments but it’s also been kind of sucky.

I feel overweight. This is not just my imagination and “feeling fat.” The combination of last week’s vacation and this week’s Thanksgiving has not been a happy one. I’m sure I could have been more mindful on both counts, but it was what it was. Thus feeling the F word in a big way and then wanting to beat myself up for not doing better. SO not fun.
I feel super cranky. Partly because of the first point, but also because of some interpersonal tensions I do not feel at liberty to write about. Just… argh.
My body feels like CRAP. I had TWO absolutely awful walks this week in which I could not run barely at all. My ankle is feeling suddenly unstable, achey, wobbly, painful. What is up with that? I don’t know. It started really twinging when I took this pretty hike in the elk preserve last weekend, and it has been bothering me a lot since then. I am noticing that my ankle does very, very poorly on hills. It really sets it off. I noticed last night that it even bothered me in bed while I was just lying there, and I woke up with it throbbing. UNHAPPY. I have a half-marathon one week from today. UNHAPPY.
My fasting blood glucose was up in not-good land this morning. Great.
Realizing it is going to be in the 30s in Las Vegas at the time of the half, and worried/freaked out about freezing and being even less able to accomplish this thing.
Cranky/sad because once I had an absolutely packed, overflowing, 3-bedroom suite at Vegas and now I am going to be alone there (alone!!) on Friday night. Junior and Pubsgal are coming on Saturday, but I need to figure out something to do Friday so I don’t have a massive pity party and hit one of those mile-long buffets.
I’m premenstrual. Which means that I will probably be in full-blown crampy gore-fest right during the half. FUN. But which also explains my extremely terrible foul mood.
Tomorrow is LAUNCH day for the new Weight Watchers plan, which I should be so excited and happy about, but given the state of how I am feeling about myself, I am less rah-rah than I’d like. I hope I can pull it together by Wednesday.

It is pouring rain outside and I am not going to go for any long run. I actually think I need to go to the meditation center more than I need to go to the gym, but I guess I will go to the gym. I am feeling extremely uncentered.

November 27, 2010 20

It’s the Food, Stupid!

Okay, I shouldn’t be calling myself Stupid. But nor should I be shocked or surprised to return from my little vacation (less than a week!) to stare at a brand-new, unwelcome number on the scale. I was so glad to be all active, and get in runs and hikes and shredding and such, but on the food arena? Not so good.

And the “food part” is really more than half the equation. Some say it is 70%. It’s definitely at least 50%. Food intake and activity are BOTH important. But last week I was being so focused on my activity, I sorta (no, not sorta) turned a blind eye to my food intake. Because it was sooooooooo good.

You know we all engage in some kind of weird magical or wishful thinking when it comes to food. It doesn’t count if… you’re standing up. Or if it’s after midnight. Or you’re wearing a blindfold. For me, I tend to discount my intake if it’s beautiful, expensive, gourmet or lovingly homemade food. I “know” that fast food or junk food can be excessive or whatever, but … what if it’s Chez Panisse? Or some other amazingly wonderful place? I tend to turn a blind eye.

We went to an area that has an incredible bounty of amazing food. It’s the home of Cowgirl Creamery and oysters and and and… we ate at amazing restaurant after amazing restaurant. Then when we were sick of eating out, our friends came up to visit us and brought a crazy array of homemade and bought goods and we had an insanely delicious feast. Juniorette has turned into the world’s most awesome baker and she brought (I am not kidding) the Best Scones I Have Ever Eaten In My Life, plus some beautiful pecan shortbread. Neither of which I could (or wanted to) resist. But here I am now.

It’s the tracking. If I had tracked all that luscious food (which I obviously did not) I would have woken up very quickly to the reality that I was going over my points in every which way. But I am back now. I’m home. I’m back on track and trying to not turn blind eyes anymore.

I don’t regret it. I enjoyed every single morsel. But I think if I had it to do over, I would’ve been just…a little…more… mindful.

insanely good homemade roast beef sandwich (I had mine openfaced)

November 23, 2010 4

The Best Run of My Life

Today was, hands down, the best run I have ever had in my life. It was amazing for so many reasons and I will outline them here:

I did not have any distance or time goals. I just told myself that I was going to run as long as I felt like running. I ended up running for 5.44 miles, and 1 hour and 20 minutes. Just the fact that I would voluntarily want to run that long, sort of blows all the neurons out of my brain.
I did have a mini-goal of keeping an average pace of 15 minute mile or less, accounting for any walk breaks. My final average was 14:48. Yay! My middle miles were in the 12-13 pace range (yay) and my beginning and endings were around 16. I can totally live with this.
Nothing hurt during this run. NOTHING. Not even my jankety old ankle. Not even my flat-as-pancake feet. Nothing.
It was actually relaxing. It actually felt really, really good.
I ran past the most beautiful scenery ever. It made my heart feel good to run around the perimeter of Cesar Chavez Park.
The weather was perfect. It started out cool and I was happy to have my snuggy sweatshirt on. It ended up warm and I felt nice and toasty.
Every single song on my iPod made me feel so happy and felt perfectly related to my run. I love running to “Don’t Fear the Reaper” (for obvious reasons?) and “Friend of the Devil” (…set out running but I take my time, the friend of the devil is a friend of mine…) But the song that always gets me is the Fray’s “You Found Me.” This song is my perfect running tempo and the lyrics just choke me up. Who found who? I found myself. Why’d I have to wait this long? I do not know.

Lost and insecure
You found me, you found me
Lying on the floor
Surrounded, surrounded
Why’d you have to wait?
Where were you, where were you?
Just a little late
You found me, you found me

Next: at the EXACT same moment I needed to pee, what appeared right in front of me? A Port-O-Potty. See? A perfect run.

I was really almost in tears when I finished this run. I looked at my Runkeeper. I just kept staring at it. And couldn’t stop saying to myself, you just ran 5.5 miles, ALONE, not as part of a race event, not with any friends, not for any reason except that you wanted to. And it felt good.

LOOK AT YOU, you 51 year old diabetic person! LOOK AT YOU!!!!!
Happy.

November 18, 2010 17

Nonscale Victory: Running Shirtless

It’s really good and important to take note of NSV (non-scale victories) when the scale is not feeling particularly victorious. I had one today.

I didn’t do it on purpose, I swear. But what happened this morning is that I left the house prepared for super chilly weather. It was like 50 degrees up by our house. Mr McB and I decided to check out a new (to us) route where he could bike and I could run and we could meet up and wave at each other and all that. I was very excited!

So we drove down there and WHOA it was easily 20+degrees warmer at the trail. I was wearing a hot, long sleeved t-shirt (that I usually wear cross- country SKIING or in super cold weather) plus a hoodie sweatshirt. I knew it was going to be awfully uncomfortable. Then I realized my pockets in the sweatshirt (my only pockets) were super shallow and this meant that my keys and phone were going to fall out.

My chivalrous spouse offered to let me have HIS jacket with the nice zippered pockets. He was just wearing a T-shirt so he didn’t need the jacket. But I could not deal with the long-sleeved shirt PLUS the jacket. Right then I decided to strip off the shirt. In the parking lot. I was like, it’s okay! I’m in my sports bra! And then I zipped up the jacket.

My plan was to run 6 miles, or to see if I could get anywhere in that range with a combo of run/walk. It is just now dawning on me (ha ha ha) that this Las Vegas half marathon is like five weeks away! and I better see what’s what. I wasn’t putting a lot of pressure on myself, and keep saying it’s fine if I walk it all, but I don’t WANT to walk it all because it’ll just take too damn long. I’m hoping for maybe a 50-50 ratio, and… getting in around the 3 hour range? I have no idea.

So I take off at a fast walk. After a couple of songs I felt nice and warmed up and started running. By the time I got to 2.5 miles, I felt like I was running with a soggy X-ray vest on my back. It was just sooooooo uncomfortable. And I decided to whip off the jacket and RUN IN MY BRA.

Now, I know people run in sports bras ALL THE TIME. But not me. I mean, I have always been way envious of those sports-bra type runners with the 6 pack abs (no, I have NO pack, or a one pack, or maybe a mini-keg). And I wasn’t actually baring my belly. I wrapped the jacket around my waist, and I pulled my pants up past my navel, quite dorkily, so that there was maybe two inches of skin exposed. But STILL. I was RUNNING IN MY BRA.

La la la! It felt really breezy and free and wonderful. The sun felt awesome on my skin and it was just great. And I felt pretty sure that I was not offending myself or any passersby.

It was an incredibly gorgeous, clear sunny day and I was running by the bay feeling just ecstatic. Until a couple things. 1. I realized I (don’t hit me! I KNOW!) forgot to bring water. AGAIN. FAIL.

2. I really, really, really had to use a restroom. Like really badly.

So my six-mile run got cut to five miles and the last 1/4 mile I was DYING of discomfort. (Shout out to Karen, whose recommendation of John Mellencamp’s “Human Wheels” literally kept me going instead of writhing about on the ground) I luckily did found a public restroom but then I needed to text Mr. McB to come rescue me. I was exhausted. But I was happy. I’d run at least five miles (maybe more? maybe close to six?) and it had really been great up until the bathroom moment.

I took a picture of my sweaty self in the parking lot. Feeling pretty pleased.

Viva Las Vegas!

PS. And just because of this post and the “Exposed” one below, NO it does not mean I’m going to be showing up in a bikini anytime soon. This is the end of taking my clothes off online!

October 31, 2010 20

Exposed: A Half Century, Plus One

I’ve been eyeing Miche’s “Exposed” movement at Eating Journey for over a year now, with not a little bit of awe and trepidation. And I kept thinking, well, that’s nice for THEM to do, but *I* would never…

And then the one-year anniversary rolled around. And all manner of people were hopping on and Exposing themselves. And I thought, well, if not now, WHEN?

I don’t think I’m really going to be getting much better. I’m 51 years old and I don’t think things are going to be getting a whole heck of a lot prettier ten or fifteen years from now. I think I look better , and I know I FEEL better, now than I did when I was 48. And it’s not about looking perfect (Um, I mean that’s the POINT). It’s about loving our bodies for what they are, and what they have done for us.

I took these pictures with my iPhone. I’m not happy with the quality of the angles. The camera and the mirror combo made my legs look like weird misshapen pegs. But here I go. I’m exposed. I did it. And I was gonna do it in my undiepants, but I’m in dire need of some bikini wax and I really didn’t want to go and expose THAT. So.

Thanks, body. Thanks for waiting for me to get my act together so belatedly. Thanks for shocking me with your resiliency, after all I put you through. oxoxo.

October 15, 2010 25

The “Hunger Diaries” Kerfuffle

I know I am chiming in VERY late to this conversation, but this is the first chance I’ve had to get my thoughts in order since the huge outburst following Marie Claire’s article was published last week: “The Hunger Diaries: Are Health Writers Putting You At Risk?”

Where do I even begin? Well, lots and lots of people have commented on this issue. Including the “Big Six” themselves: Carrots & Cake, Healthy Tipping Point, (who started the amazing Operation Beautiful project), Meals and Miles, Cheeseburger in Paradise, I don’t want to be redundant. And yet there are several things I feel I need to respond to.

Healthy-living bloggers (which I consider myself to be) are role models, and as such, bear a certain responsibility to their readers. Well, first of all, I have no idea who many of my readers are. Only a tiny percentage of my actual readers ever leave comments and so I don’t know who they are. I am not anywhere near the readership of “The Big Six,” some of whom have over 15,000 readers per day. (I wish! right?) I believe that my only responsibility is in telling what is true for me. That’s all I can do, really. I’m not here as an expert. I’m just living my life in the best way I can, with all its struggles and challenges, and whatever anybody else takes from it, I really cannot control.
One person’s healthy tool is another person’s trigger. We all have our methods. It’s a highly personal, unique and often charged journey, isn’t it? When I began photographing my food, several people commented that it pushed their buttons. It was too much. But for me, it was a comfort. A daily practice, almost a meditative act. I noticed that it made me much more mindful. (I’ve slacked off the pictures lately, and really want to get back to it because I do think it was immensely helpful. For ME.) I was amazed that in some of the responses to the Marie Claire article, MANY people made comments that keeping a food journal was a “dangerous practice” that teetered on disordered eating. That really made my eyes pop because this is one of the main tools of Weight Watchers. Studies have shown that people who journal their food lose more weight. I suppose if you are anorexic and should not BE losing weight, this can be a dangerous thing. Which leads me to…
There are eating disorders and then there are eating disorders. They run a huge spectrum, from anorexia/bulimia to compulsive and binge eating. What might be triggering and “dangerous” for anorexics might be just what a compulsive overeater NEEDS in order to be healthy. Take the practice of “food destroying,” which I was startled to see, ranks as a possible sign of “disordered eating” in some arenas. Wow. Because this is something that I sometimes do, most often in restaurants, when I am given a portion that is way too big for me, and I know that is going to tempt me if I’m sitting there looking at it. I’m satisfied, and I don’t want to eat any more. I might put a napkin over it (I reallllllllllly don’t see anything wrong with that) or sometimes will oversalt it or put something else on it that will make it unappetizing. Case in point: the other night I was out at a restaurant. Server brought us an extra dish of amazing mashed potatoes with butter gravy. How I do love mashed potatoes! I was already full. I had a bite. It was delicious. I could feel the inner Gollum revving up inside me (“My precious… potatoes! Buttttttterrrrrr!”) How easy it would have been for me to just inhale the ENTIRE giant mound, even though I was already done eating. Because I WANTED it. But another voice inside me DIDN’T want it. I dumped some icky sweet sauce from my fish onto the potatoes, and that put an end to it. Now. Was that “disordered eating?” Or was it a tactic that saved me from overeating? For my particular eating disorder, I think it was a healthy move. Others might disagree.
If people with eating disorders wanted to find unhealthy advice out there, it certainly is there for the seeking. People who are prone to anorexia will find instruction manuals in how to do that. People who want to kill themselves, ditto. And people who want to eat themselves into oblivion will find plenty of support as well. Whatever you want to find out there, it’s there.
Slanted journalism. I just think it was sensationalistic and wrong. That is all.
Back to the Triggers thing. Personally, I am sometimes triggered by reading raw food/vegan blogs because that’s not a choice I want to make, and the sheer idea of it makes me want to go eat a giant bacon cheeseburger. It’s a trigger for me, because of who I am. But if I HAPPEN to read one of those blogs, and then HAPPEN to go on an eating binge, I am going to put on my big-girl panties and not BLAME IT on the bloggers themselves. I mean, come on, people.

I think that’s it for now. But I was amazed at so many things I read this week. Maybe it’s because I’m such a small-potatoes blogger. I am not in any Big Six. Maybe I’m in the Big Six Million. Just one voice in the blogosphere. I write for me because it helps keep me on a path I want to stay on. If it’s at all helpful to others, fantastic. If anything I do or say triggers or is unhelpful to anyone, please avert your eyes. It seems like it should be that simple.

October 10, 2010 13

Lifetime: It’s A Long Time

Last weekend we had a special meeting for Lifetime Members at our Weight Watchers center. Lifetime members are people who reached their goal weight then maintained it for a minimum of six weeks. Many Lifetime members have been at their goal weight for YEARS (one woman there has been at goal for 17 yrs!!!!!!!) and others for shorter amounts of time. It was an awesome meeting. We talked about how exciting it can be to lose, and then, when you hit goal weight and maintenance, it’s: gain a pound. Lose a pound. Gain a pound. Repeat. You don’t get the same sense of celebration as “losers” do.

That is one reason that I jumped onto WW staff the second (and I mean the SECOND) I reached Lifetime. I knew it would be super challenging to maintain my weight loss. I knew I had to do it. And for me, to be on staff has been more rewarding and amazing than I ever could have imagined. I have gained an incredible community of friends who share the same healthy goals. I have the resources of this amazing organization. I am constantly learning new things: about health, and about myself.

People talked about feeling “invisible” in the mass of people who are primarily at WW to lose weight. On one hand, I know what they mean. But at the same time, I have to say that every single topic that we discuss in the meetings are JUST as relevant for maintainers as for people who are trying to lose. I personally reflect on every topic that we have, and each one is meaningful because they are all about living healthy lives. For good.

Another thing we talked about is this idea of maintaining being “hard.” Is it harder than losing? Yes and no. I think it’s hard when we realize that reaching a goal weight does not mean Immunity. Ha ha ha ha. You just have to keep doing what you’re doing, and do more of it, like, forever. I think it’s easy when we’re generally feeling better and healthier than we ever have. So it’s both.

I’ve made a personal vow to make sure the Lifetime members in my meetings feel just as welcomed and celebrated and honored as anyone else. They are inspirational! and awesome for what they have accomplished. And it also made me think hard about how important it is to constantly work to keep myself motivated. I have to keep changing it up.

On Sunday, we had the WW Awards event which was super amazingly awesome. It’s sort of like the Oscars of the WW world. I was proud to be part of some great accomplishments this year, especially for the Alameda Center. We also heard that the Northern California region, which was #14 in the country (for weight loss/maintenance accomplishments) last year – fantastic- has jumped to NUMBER TWO this year! Woo hoo! Go Northern California Weight Watchers!

I’m doing a bunch of things to change things up recently. To keep it fresh. I’ve made a new commitment to fresh produce. I’m going to go to the Farmers’ Market at least once a week (if not more). I’m going to keep reading new things and thinking about my health in new ways. Because there is no such thing as Immunity.

September 30, 2010 9

10k Race Recap, and “Feedback, Not Failure”

What a bizarro week it’s been. I think I can safely say that the motto of the week is “Feedback, not failure.” (a WW favorite) I think it pretty much applied to everything I did and experienced. I got a lot of feedback. But I don’t feel like I failed.

First, the food. See details here. At the beginning of the week I was in a bit of a cocky state, crowing “I can eat cookies! I can eat pizza!” because at first, my weight just went up a teensy bit. Then like 3 days later, it went up a LOT. Okay. So I can’t eat “everything.” Especially not all in one week. It has now settled back into my regular range, so that’s good, but it was, I suppose, a bit of an eye opener. I did learn a few things from my week of Indulgence though:

A lot of people avoid sugar because they feel like it will be like a Gateway drug into more and more and more sugar. This was not my experience at all. I ate cookies for a couple of days, and my response was, I WANT VEGETABLES. Same thing with the fried chicken and pizza. They made me crave greens and vegetables and “clean” food like nobody’s business. So that was kind of illuminating, and also a relief. I feel like I don’t need to see another chocolate chip cookie for a long time. Or pizza, for that matter.
It took like 72 hours for the food to “settle” onto my body.
But it also went away pretty quickly. Most of it. Not all of it.
It’s just really, really hard to stay in a good range when one eats out a lot. Which I really did this week. So. Lesson learned.
I’m not about beating myself up or feeling “guilty” or like I blew it. I don’t think I blew it. I think I learned stuff. Yay for that.

Now, to my 10k race this morning. Haha ha ha! Let me just say that until I was actually on the course, I never really believed I was going to run a 10k today. If I had, maybe I would’ve, like, TRAINED for it? Ha ha again.

Back up. I found out that this race was happening in a park very close to my house. Which got me all excited. It’s a beautiful park in the redwoods. I vaguely remembered seeing people doing this very race (or maybe it was a different one) a few years back, and what I remembered was a few people running, and a bunch of Sierra Club-ish septegenarians with hiking boots and walking sticks. And their website says “hikers welcome,” meaning you don’t have to run it. So this WHOLE TIME I was thinking, I’m gonna hike this baby. Easy peasy.

But several elements transpired to transform this thing from an easy 6.5 mile hike into a crazy, grueling, up-and-down hills 10k RUN. First, I got to the registration place. I did not see a single 75 year old with a walking stick. Not a one. Instead what I saw was shirtless people with 2% body fat. I immediately felt faint, and like, UH OH. Then I ran into my friends: one of my Team Penguin buddies (surprise! yay! he was doing the 20k, ooh!) and my friend Sarah from solo performance workshop, and a WW buddy.

They herded us into different groups: 10k, 20K, 30K, 40K and FIFTY KILOMETERS. Holy mackerel. The woman with the megaphone referred to the 10k as a “lollipop run” to which Sarah took offense (“What are we, babies?”) but then I pointed out I think that was the SHAPE of our course, not our level of difficulty. I nervously noted that MOST of the herd was in the 2ok and up crowd, and the 10k bunch was relatively small (50? 70?).

They counted down (about 20 minutes late) and then were off. The trail was really narrow so it was pretty much single file. People were passing me like crazy, including a woman with one leg and one spring. That was impressive. After a while the course thinned out incredibly and I was in the company of this guy who looked Not At All Like A Runner, wearing snowboard pants and a wool cap. And carrying a loose water bottle in his hand. This other guy, who was Most Definitely A Runner, kept running up ahead at great speed, then coming back to check on the snowboard dude. I later learned they were brothers. I am not sure if Snowboarder was grateful or wanted to kill his marathoner brother.

Anyway, I ran the first half-mile or so then it started going uphill. Then REALLY uphill. Like a ladder. And my ankle, in spite of its sturdy brace, began experiencing major stabbing pains. It just DOES NOT like inclines. Or declines. Or anything other than pure flat terrain. My missing toenail, on the other hand, did not bother me at all.

The trail was really beautiful. It looked mostly like this.

Very pretty. People kept passing me. Eventually Snowboard Guy, who was behind me for a mile or two, passed me. These two women, who were behind me, passed me. Finally I was all alone. It occurred to me that chances were VERY HIGH that I was the Very Last Person in the 10k pack. And I had to do some serious talking to myself. I felt sorry for myself. I felt like a loser. I felt stupid for not training more, and for not really checking out what this race was truly like.

Then I remembered this guy from this video I saw last night.

And I started crying. I was like, Guy, if you can do what you did, I can get through this 10k. And I also thought, even though I am probably the END of this pack of athletes, I am HERE. I am doing this. And how many people are not doing any 10K at all, OR a 5k or even a 1k. And then I felt a little better.

Running is such a psychological experience!

I had a few periods of what I call “gazelle running” – when I was truly running fast, LEAPING over logs and just flying. For me. But then other times I was trudging up steep inclines. And my ankle was crying. And then a few times I got all dizzy and nauseated and my hands went numb and I knew I was getting dehydrated. It turns out that they do not have aid stations every mile or so, like regular big runs, but instead EVERY TEN KILOMETERS. In other words, when my race was over. And I was not carrying any water. Duh. When will I learn? (Today, Jesus, today!!!!!!!!!)

I did have a KIND bar which I think helped me with hypoglycemia. So I got through it. I eventually finished. I felt like both crying and throwing up when I finished, but I did neither. I had to rush off to pick up my daughter from crew practice, because Mr. McBody (um, Dr. McBody) was on call and could not do it. So that also helped me hustle my little tushie through the woods in a timely manner. For ME, I ran my ass off, and it was still really really hard.

My final time was 1 hour and 50 minutes. This was not stellar. I was, I think the last person in. The first finishers finished a full hour before me. But you know? I feel good about it. And sort of dumb. I wish I’d realized I was going to RUN this thing. If I had, well, I either would have dropped out ahead of time, or I would have prepared better.

Live and learn, right? For now I am feeling pretty proud that I did this thing.

September 18, 2010 24

I (heart) Frank Bruni: A Book Review

I just finished reading Frank Bruni’s memoir, Born Round. When I got to the last page I was a little choked up, feeling like I’d found a real kindred spirit. He’s like another Foodie McBody! Someone who loves and appreciates food, AND who wants to be healthy and fit. I know so many fit people who truly seem unmoved by food, or who see it purely as fuel (and not so much as a source of pleasure) OR as the Enemy. Anybody who knows me knows that I am constantly striving to find ways to have my (cup)cake and eat it too. And of course I also know the foodies who turn a blind eye to fitness or health. Please, can’t I have both?

Enter Frank! OMG. For the first (more than?) half of the book, we follow him through his childhood, where he is a ravenous toddler, and then a huge eater at family feasts orchestrated by his mother and grandmother. The descriptions of the incredible food-a-paloozas were enough to make me faint. Pasta! Italian food! Roast turkey! Frites! (fried stuffed yummy things)

And there’s Frank, simultaneously loving all the food and mortified by his plumpness. And I’m nodding like one of those dashboard bobblehead doggies with its head on a spring. Sigh.

I followed, completely rapt, while Frank joins the swim team and slims down, then joins up with his mother on endless diets (Atkins! I did that one with my dad, back in the 70s), back and forth, back and forth. Ultimately it gets into some pretty dark territory, of bulimia and then bingeing.

It’s a classic tale of Too Much of a Good Thing, when something turns and then doesn’t feel so good anymore. And I feel like I am constantly trying to find that balance. I still want food to be a Good Thing. And it is, until it isn’t. I don’t ever want to fear food or not enjoy it. So it was kind of awe-inspiring and very happy making to read about Frank’s ultimate challenge and job: to be the food critic for the New York Times. How could he manage to eat out 7-8 times a week, at amazing multi-star restaurants, and stay fit and healthy?

Exercise. Of course. Lots of exercise. And portion control. Right? Of course that’s the key. Calories in, calories out. I loved reading about Frank’s bootcampish trainer, Aaron, who sounds like a much meaner version of my own trainer. I was intrigued by his description of Pilates. It was fun following Frank on his transformation from couch-potato-dom to athlete.

The writing in this book is fantastic. Funny, poignant, honest, real. I laughed out loud a LOT, and also cringed and wiped a tear or two. And there was a crazy moment of recognition, much like when I read Kate Moses’ Cakewalk and remembered that I ALSO bit the toes off of rubber alligators from Disneyland (WHAT??? Really!). Maybe not quite as bizarre, but like Frank Bruni, I also had a mad love for cold noodles with sesame paste, something I’d long forgotten (I can’t find this stuff in San Francisco). I used to be obsessssssssssed with those cold noodles when I lived in New York, and my favorite spot was this teeny tiny hole-in-the-wall called OMei in NY’s Chinatown. My friend used to bring me those as a special treat after I moved away. It’s been so many years since I’ve had those noodles, and… sigh. Reading this book brought it all back. (Frank! if you or anybody else knows where I can find these noodles in San Francisco, pleeeeeeeeeease tell me!)

Anyway. Back to the book. I loved it. For someone who loves both Top Chef AND The Biggest Loser, it really spoke to my heart (and my taste buds?). It made me feel like I had company, in the best way. And after I read it, Frank Bruni joined the ranks of my invisible fit-foodie-community. I finished the book on Monday and in the evening, I was contemplating going out to the cemetery to work out. But it was a Holiday. And I was tired. Suddenly, the voice of Frank’s trainer Aaron popped into my head. “Don’t be a wimpy quitter!” I went out there and did 3.5 miles, and added on 50 pushups and 480 stairs. Then I came home and looked for something really, reallllllllly good to eat.

September 9, 2010 16

foodfoodbodybody

eat, move, think, feel

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