What can I say about a date that comes only once every 4 years? I GOT AN EXTRA PAYCHECK THIS MONTH!
PS I was just approved for overtime at my job, so be patient as I won't be writing a lot because I'm working like a dog for extra travel money! That's right, I'm talking to all 30 of you, hahahaha.
Yesterday morning my boss saw me in the kitchen and asked me if I was alright and I thought 'Shit, did I forget to put my pants on before leaving the gym?' Nope, there they were, so what had I done to make her worry? I had simply failed to be in my cubicle by 7am as I had habitually done since the beginning of my contract last April. I explained to her that I'm setting my daily schedule back an hour to break my 4am habit, opting to practice a new 5am regimen. This inspired an odd look, one I'm very familiar with, then she went back to her office.
Her observation amused me as it only served to prove my hypothesis that, as humans, we notice each others habits and become alarmed upon even modest alterations. This is precisely why over that past month I have systematically set myself the task of creating new habits and breaking old ones, wholly to prove to myself that it can be done with only mild exacerbation of my worry-some nature and fear of change. Furthermore, I intend to continue this behavior throughout my life as I strongly believe these small yet consistent changes will lessen the blow of more devastating changes, which never fail to provoke my Mind's anxiety. Just as I practice Yoga to increase the Body's flexibility, I will persistently alter my daily routines to augment my Mind's acceptance of life's inevitable changes.
Not all habits are bad, and most are not as obvious as a finger shoved up the nose; but all habits can and should be broken to improve the mind's flexibility. It also promotes the docile adoption of life's changes with minimal anxiety.
Everyone either exercises or realizes that they should. This is the reason gym memberships soar throughout January and February, and also why a late arrival to my Sunday Yoga class ensures extreme intimacy with my neighbor. The beginning of the New Year, every year, prompts nearly the entire population to remember there was something they had intended to add to their daily regimen, but either forgot due to other worldly concerns or simply lost interest because they could not bring themselves to enjoy physical exertion. Consequently the masses marvel at die-hard gym goers, happily concluding that they are crazy or selfish. In reality most people envy those that set time aside for themselves to exercise. Faithful fitness pursuers are perceived to have a lack of other responsibilities and/or selfishly devote time to themselves in vanity, neither of which are usually true. These people exercise to reap it's many advantages and increase their self-worth. The true benefits of exercise extend far beyond the superficial and physical attributes, reaching into the psychological and spiritual aspects of life as well; this drives the inherent urge for all people, indeed all animals, to exercise. Ask any hamster and they'll avidly express their passion for wheel-running.
Still don’t believe me? Go into any bookstore and simply observe the sheer volume of books, magazines and electronics devoted to getting hard-core abs, fat burning tips and recipes for both food and physically healthy living. Explore further, the medical section addresses the social epidemics of depression and anxiety and each resource includes at least one chapter devoted to highlighting the phenomenal benefits of exercise on the psyche. Finally, courageously peruse the ‘don’t-kill-yourself’ section on self-improvement and spirituality, being careful not to be seen of course, and again examine the emphasis of building Self-Esteem and increasing awareness in the body through daily physical activity. In this section, the graceful art of Yoga becomes especially prominent. Even my European travel guide suggests moderate to vigorous exercise upon arrival to combat the effects of Jet Lag. Starting to get the point? It is critical to understand that while weight loss is the most well-known of exercise's benefits, there are many more advantages to be gained from consistent physical activity, which act to balance Mind, Body and Soul. Read on, Grasshopper.
PART I: No excuses, ‘Just Do It!’
Despite diverse and well characterized benefits, people find ample excuses to avoid implementing an exercise regimen. Its absence in their daily lives is most commonly attributed to time constraints, an inability to balance its importance against their other pressing tasks related to job and family, or a steadfast aversion to physical activity in general. I’d like to take this opportunity to declare ‘Shenanigans!’ I don’t care what they do or how busy their life is, everyone can sneak away for a 30-minute workout; no excuses! That small amount of time is really all that’s needed to reap the phenomenal profits related to exercise. Sadly, most people fail to realize they don't think they are worth 30-minutes a day for their own health; the crux of low Self-Esteem. Furthermore, I’m not asking for marathons runners, tri-athletes or Olympic champions here, simply continuous walking, gardening or house-work would suffice, but get that heart rate up! As for the truly determined exercise-haters, first consider my own story and if it doesn't inspire a feeling of, ‘Well, shit, I can do that,’ then hells-bells be lazy and happy with a life devoid of activity.
I’ve been big my whole life, and though I enjoyed walking and riding my bike occasionally, my long-standing adage was ‘Fat people don’t run unless they’re being chased.’ Five years ago, no longer able to tolerate the discomfort I felt in my own body at 5’3’ and 240 lbs, I began an exercise routine in my living room with ‘Hip Hop Abs.’ These infomercial exercise videos featured a jacked, flamboyant, homosexual who promised a tight and toned core, and the added benefit of gaining some sick moves for the dance floor. It was fairly obvious however, that the demographic was white house wives who did not have any inclination to dance anywhere but the comfort of their own homes. Still, I was too embarrassed to work out in a gym so this would have to suffice. Diligently following the schedule provided in the package, I locked my 9-week old Corgi puppy, Charlie, in his kennel each morning. There he would be safe from my bull-elephant-like tramplings as I ungraciously executed the dance moves along with my fellow hip-hoppers. Many mornings I felt I’d really rather die than get out of bed and do that stupid workout. I felt profound physical and emotional resistance from head to toe, my mind obsessing over the pointlessness of my efforts. I passionately hated every smiling face, ripped body, poorly mixed Hip Hop song and reference to moves like ‘The Ghetto Stomp,’ especially prior to seeing any physical results. Even worse, I felt fatter and more uncomfortable than ever before. But instead of taking my exercise that day by visually pulverizing those exercise-nuts, or jumping up and down on the DVDs, I put my feet on the floor and did the workout. Surprisingly, by the end of the 40-minute video I always felt great, both about myself for having conquered my initial malaise and about life in general. Those 40 short minutes magically transformed by abysmal disposition to an optimistic outlook, and prepared me for a full day of kicking-ass.
Pushing through this period of resentment is critical, and it’s something that everyone will have to face. Once settled into a habitual routine however, one experiences the first glimpse of the universal phenomenon known as ‘Runner’s High.’ This exhilarating experience is what keeps the Runners running, Bikers biking, Spinners spinning, Boxers boxing and Elliptisizers elliptisizing; that rush of positive energy and feelings which occurs after 10 to 15 minutes of exercise and persists all day. Even after 3 years of steady exercise the first 10 minutes of my run usually feels like absolute torture, but once I tough it out I reach that high and the rest of my workout flies by filled with inspiring ideas for articles, projects and major life decisions; intuition floods my Mind. Runner's High is pure optimism, and by defining it in the contexts of Body/Biological, Mind/Psychological and Soul/Spiritual, one can easily discern the universal benefits of exercise.
PART II: The Specifics: Body, Mind and Soul
a. Biological Runner’s High: The physiological release of brain chemicals, which cause sensations of euphoria, calm and also decrease the body's sensitivity to pain.
This is the conventional definition for Runner's High. For years scientists suspected Runner's High occurred as a result of the release of endorphins and other 'feel-good' neurotransmitters such as serotonin and dopamine, but the experiments were always inconclusive. Still considered to be contributing factors, the actual physiological mechanisms involved remained so elusive that many scientists gave up their research and proclaimed true biological Runner's High a myth. The studies conducted in the 1990's by Arne Dietrich, PhD, however, found the true culprit behind this phenomena. The summation of Deitrich's research, presented in a Runner's World Report, indicated that Runner's High is a result of the production of a blissful little fatty acid known as Anandamide. Anandamide occupies the same chemical receptor in the brain as THC, the molecule responsible for the effects of marijuana. So, the next time you want to get stoned save your money and your waist line, grab a pair of sneakers and hit the pavement or a treadmill. Seriously, this is how humans literally get high from running. This nifty molecule also significantly decreases the body's perception of pain, mimicking medicinal marijauna's treatment of chronic pain, and opens the blood vessels and lungs; all of which function to make vigorous physical activity enjoyable, less painful and easier in general.
Besides the release of anandamide, exercise has many other biological benefits, the body comes alive and awakens itself to its full potential. Physical exertion literally stimulates every system in the body, from individual cells to complex neuronal networks and increased organ function. Specific pieces of DNA are transcribed to RNA, that RNA is subsequently translated to proteins to sustain muscle repair and growth, mitochondria call for more oxygen to produce the primary energy molecule of the body ATP, the lungs dilate to take in more oxygen with each breath and the red blood cells increase their affinity and capacity for oxygen in response to the mitochondria's call, myosin motors and actin filaments use Calcium stores and the ATP produced in mitochondria to power the methodical contraction and relaxation of skeletal muscles ensuring flawless muscle movements (see video below), neurons transmit signals between the muscles, organs and brain to address coordination and energy needs, the liver releases sugar stores in the form of long glucose chains called glycogen to provide more energy, adipose tissue likewise mobilizes fatty acid stores for energy production (the basis for weight loss), and these are just a fraction of the mechanisms that have been investigated; many more remain to be discovered! It's an astoundingly mind-numbing and graceful cycle of energy production and expenditure.
Exercise also carries the major advantage of increased sleep quality and more reliable sleeping patterns. By far the most significant benefit offered by consistent physical activity is the natural correction of chemical imbalances in serotonin and norepinephrine, in small part due to improved sleep. These sustained imbalances lead to chronic depression and anxiety. Though scientists still debate over the exact processes responsible for these physiological phenomena, the evidence is irrefutable; exercise is extremely beneficial for the Body.
b. Psychological Runner’s High: The restoration of harmony between the Mind and Body, facilitated by the mindful release of negative emotions.
Let Flow and Let Go
This harmony is established by physically equalizing the pace of thoughts with the pace of the Body. How often do we sit, stock-still, allowing stressful thoughts to rapidly flash across our Minds like some sort of demon-possessed marquee? Don't let that Mind run away from the Body so easily, get up and move! When the Mind and Body operate at different speeds, typically with the Mind going faster than the Body although the opposite is also possible, wholeness is lost and both Mind and Body become anxious. I realize this concept is not easy to understand, but it's similar to feeling an 'out-of-body' experience which, by the way, is one of the hallmarks of all panic attacks. Therefore, it's critical to equalize their respective speeds, either by making them both fast or both slow. To bring the Mind down to the slower pace of the Body, one can meditate to quiet the mind. Successful meditation takes enormous effort and requires a lot of practice however, so I prefer kicking my ass into gear and running with the Mind; it works every time and comes naturally to everyone with freely flowing limbs. Again, when the Mind is running, making the Body physically catch up will naturally bring them back into balance and the person regains their sense of unity, happiness.
As the Mind and Body begin running together, they can finally have a civilized conversation and address the issues specific to each. This is the emotional release aspect of exercise. Listen to that conversation, the Mind will likely spew forth a stream of anxious thoughts such as 'I have an exam tomorrow so I have to study, and I also have homework to do, and I have unpaid medical bills that may put me in collections and effect my credit score, so I have to work more hours to pay those bills but I also need to study and meet friends for dinner the day after tomorrow, oh I love this song, but I just know my boyfriend/girlfriend wants to break up with me, and my Mom could get sick at any moment, and my dog may puke on the floor because he likes to eat cat shit, and I rarely sleep well which makes my feel tired and lazy, and my father called me fat when I was 5.......' Here's what the Body has to say, 'Let's just keep running because there's some crazy bitch/bastard either chasing me or constantly running away from me.' Stay with the Body, it rarely has the plethora of the issues on which the Mind dwells for no other purpose but to hear itself talk. Simply run, let the thoughts flow, and enjoy that sensation of release with each stride. Allow the Mind to let go of all the problems it had in the past or anticipates having in the future, they aren't real. [For further contemplation of letting go of dysfunctional thoughts see 'Thoughtful Diffusion']
We tend to lead with our Minds and ignore our Bodies because we can literally hear our Minds by way of our inner voice and thoughts. Other than the occasional cracking joint, burp, fart or rumbling stomach, we rarely hear what the Body has to say and end up dismissing it without consequence when we do hear something. What could a fart possible have to tell you? Maybe that you shouldn't have had that 2 pound Chipotle burrito with extra hot sauce. By consistently suppressing our Body's wishes, again the Body and Mind become unbalanced and anxiety will ensue. While we exercise it is much easier to check-in with the body. Ask, 'How are you feeling?' and prepare to be astonished because it will answer if you learn to listen. Hell, sometimes it even screams the answer; 'I LOVE THIS!' or 'STOP, I JUST BUSTED SOMETHING.' Whether bad or good, it demands the attention it deserves yet rarely receives.
Who remembers Tony Little and his Gazelle? This nut was onto something, and just look at that muscle definition!
Combating the Mind's Negative Effects on the Body Though the Body is an entity in it's own right, it is also under the control of the Mind. This is another reason why almost all people find it difficult to tune into their Body, and still more difficult to discern how we feel from how we think we feel. What we feel and experience in our Bodies is a consequence of how the Minds thinks we should feel, or expects the Body to feel considering certain circumstances and/or its surroundings. For example, we think we look fat so we feel fat and lethargic, which decreases our Self-Esteem, keeps us from exercising and maintains guilty thoughts regarding what we eat. Chronic sufferers of insomnia go to bed expecting that sleep will elude them, and they are never disappointed. For some, certain environmental changes cause Migraines, so their Mind likewise expects Migraines when those cues are given by nature. I'm not saying that these afflictions are not real, rather I'm am suggesting that an element of the illnesses lay in the Mind's anticipation of them, which will inevitably manifest the issue in the Body. For example, I suffer from Panic Attacks. My first attack occurred while I was driving, so that became a trigger for my Mind to manifest physical symptoms of panic. When life's uncontrollable events caused elevated stress levels, I sometimes found it damn near impossible to drive; at least until I realized those anxious feelings were simply a habit that my Mind inflicted on my Body. With that awareness, I was able to break that habitual thinking pattern and my car-related anxiety subsided. Ever notice that feelings of hunger arise only when the Mind believes it's time to eat? Miraculously, when the Mind is otherwise engrossed in a project that requires all it's focus the Body can go an entire day without feeling hungry. Food for thought, pun intended. Fun fact: Stressful, negative, anxious and depressing thoughts have enormous detrimental effects on our Bodies when we trap them in and fail to release them through activities like exercise. Thoughts produce emotions which, like it or not, manifest themselves in the body as muscle tension and even pain; ask anyone with clinically diagnosed Depression or Anxiety, or a psychologist/MD. People with Depression commonly suffer from Fibromyalgia, deep neurological muscle pain with no known origin and for which there is no direct treatment. While working at the MS Center my colleauge coordinated a trial studying the effectiveness of duloxetine (Cymbalta) on Fibromyalgia pain, a common condition found in MS patients. Here's the point: duloxetine was FDA approved in 2004 for the treatment of Depression and GAD, issues within the Mind; yet Fibromyalgia is pain located either throughout, or in some specific area of, the Body. Critically, this chemical is treating a symptom routed in the Body indirectly via the brain!
Here's a couple more examples to drive my point home. I have had the hips of a 90 year-old woman since I was 13, coincidentally(?) around the time I found out I had stomach ulcers from excessive worry. Every time I moved they'd snap, crackle and pop like a bowl of friggin' Rice Krispies. Knowing my hips tended to be tight and cause discomfort during exercise, I began to methodically work on them using Yogic techniques and hip-opening poses. Mysteriously, every time I'd do the stretches I'd be overcome with negative emotions; in the beginning they even provoked avoidance of the practice. I pushed through the emotions eventually subsided and my hips improved dramatically, making my runs far more enjoyable. One random day I read in the 'Anxiety and Phobia Workbook' that feelings of worry get trapped in the hips. BINGO! The flood of emotions I felt during my poses were actually the release of 14 years accumulation of worry; that's a lot for my hips to carry around, and I could physically feel the relief. Likewise, my mother suffers from chronic sciatica, shooting nerve pain from the hips through the legs, for which there is no pharmaceutical treatment only stretches for improvement of posture and blood-flow. She also gets head colds that knock her off her feet for a couple days about once a month. My mother suffers from a larger issue however, dealing with the monumental stress of operating a bar/restaurant business and daily interactions with morons of the most acute nature. Her frequent illnesses are a result of chronic stress which is cemented in her Body. Furthermore, she's confessed that she actually enjoys these problems since they offer her the only source of relief from the daily stress. When she's sick neither she, nor anyone else, expects her to work and she can rest without feeling guilty or lazy. In the process, she's completely abusing her Body. Honestly, I think a daily 30-minute power-walk would be preferable to 3 days of horrible ass-pain, but to each their own. I have the up-most respect for my mother, the burdens she endures with ease are astonishing, but she also understands that I want her to relieve her stress in more productive ways. Be kind to the Body; exercise is a wonderful and enjoyable way to alleviate such stress without abusing the Body by repeated illness.
In conclusion, it is critical to treat the underlying source of nearly all Bodily issues, daily perpetual stress. One can manage this stress easily and inexpensively through consistent activity and watch the physical ailments magically disappear, sans pills. Let me state outright that I am not some holistic, tree-hugging, pill-hating, post-modern hippie; quite the opposite. Many people have serious psychological and medical conditions which require medication, and I've spent the better part of my career caring for MS patients, taking them through research trials to test new therapies for the disease. Additionally, I currently work for Amgen pharmaceuticals. Rather, I simply wish to offer a simpler solution that also carries the benefits of higher effectiveness and no side effects. Next time you're feeling a bit squirrely, act like a squirrel and run instead of popping that Xanax. After all, the nominal cost associated with running sure beats the hell out of health care premiums.
c. Spiritual Runner’s High: The song your Soul sings as it both acquires and projects positive energy.
One Sunday morning before Yoga I ran, as I usually do, to warm up my muscles and say 'Good Morning' to my Body. At first the exertion felt physical forced and mentally painful; I resisted the activity, wishing I was anywhere but on that treadmill. Instead of stopping however, I quieted that resentment by telling myself to relax. Running is time I take for myself to reflect, breath, listen to some fast-paced kick-ass Hip Hop and enjoy the energetic vibe one often experiences at a gym. This energy is akin to what one feels from crowds at concerts and sporting events, the collective buzz of excitement. That's when I realized this energy was actually the summation of all the sounds of the equipment and people at the gym; the hum of the machines, the panting of the runners, the splashing from the swimmers and the grunts of the weight-lifters. They all meld to produce a song my Soul happily sings along to once it is able to hear the music over the noise created by my own negative thoughts. The Soul absorbs that song as fuel. Still better is when we can enter the gym, guns-blazing, our Souls already head-banging to our own song which stimulates other uninspired Souls to rock-out along with us. The Soul thus projects fuel for others. Whether we are the positive influence, or are relying on the influence of others to bring us up, it all balances out and the end result is all Souls, all energies, helping one another to elevate negativity and create one massive positive energy flow.
To better understand this exchange of energy, consider this example. Every morning at 5:30am sharp I watched from my elliptical as a slender, muscular, young man burst into the club, one or both fists enthusiastically pumping away to the music in his own head. He'd simultaneously skip and run up the stairs to the same treadmill, where he'd proceed to sprint at about 11 mph like a fucking gazelle. His energy was awe-inspiring, and I lovingly referred to him as 'Crazy Guy.' This kid embodied Runner's High by all definitions and one thing was certain, his Soul was radiant with song; I could hear and feel it. His song was contagious and I always caught a buzz from his positive energy, a smile immediately spreading across my face every morning upon his arrival. I was not the only person to catch the virus, a glow shimmered in every eye laid upon 'Crazy Guy.' Though convinced he was either on speed or self-medicating some sort of overactive adrenal disorder, he motivated me to take-up running. Until watching him I stayed away from treadmills, believing I hadn't yet lost enough weight to run on a treadmill without hurting myself or feeling disappointed by my lack of proficiency. Desiring to run like 'Crazy Guy,' I slowly but surely began to train on the treadmill behind him, and after a month I had worked my way up from walking for only 10 minutes to moderately jogging for 30 minutes, allowing his repetitive strides to propel me forward. Without the energy provided by his Soul's song, I would have never began running and learned to sing my own song.
Yoga also provides a compelling example of the Soul's ability to project positive energy with the added benefit of increasing Self-Esteem. For more, refer to my definition of Yoga. Self-Esteem is a spiritual experience because it requires an awareness of the whole self Mind, Body and Soul; it isn't simply how we see our bodies in a mirror, it's our capacity to love our bodies as well as our thoughts, emotions and actions, despite their innate inclination towards dysfunction. Exercise, and particularly Yoga, significantly improves Self-Esteem by enabling the Body to feel powerful and mindful of its actions. One adjustment added to all Yoga poses is described as 'opening the heart,' which requires the shoulder blades to press down and together. This movement naturally opens and lifts the chest, aligns the spine and provides a more stable foundation of balance. I began to notice that each time I made this simple adjustment I felt physically lighter and mentally happier. The combination of these sensations made my Soul sing; I was glowing and radiating positive energy to be enjoyed by both myself and my classmates. Consequently this made my Mind happier, and my Body and Soul feel stronger. Every Yoga pose is entered into with full awareness of mind and muscle, which creates a balance routed in the Soul. This unity stimulates profound impressions of worth and strength that elevates Self-Esteem.
Perhaps you're thinking 'I've done a lot of running and haven't heard shit.' Have you been listening in earnest? First practice controlling the volume of your negative thoughts, the worry, the frustration, the guilt, and the resentments. Allow the Mind to become quiet otherwise it cannot hear the Soul's song. Running will propel you there faster since, as described above, physical activity enables negative thoughts to flow out inconspicuously instead of playing loudly on repeat. One simple way to quiet the Mind is to listen to the breath, which is especially easy when you're panting like a dog; breath mindfully, letting the sound of the in-and-out flow engulf the Mind's attention. Once those thoughts become quiet, everything else becomes effortless and the Soul begins to sing its jubilant tune. So whether it’s 'Go, Go Power Rangers,' 'Walking on Sunshine,' the tri-toned 'La, La, La' sung my the pig Babe, 'Party Rockin,' or something more original, the Soul's song will flood the Mind and Body with positive thoughts and feelings which in-turn flow out, motivating others and uniting with surrounding energies.
PART III: The Balance
People prone to perfectionism, extremism and addiction in general must be especially careful as it is very easy to abuse exercise. Under certain circumstances, a healthy fitness regimen can become quite dangerous. When this happens, it is counterproductive to all of exercise's benefit as it increase stress levels both physically and mentally, harming Body and Mind. For that reason, I feel the need to express the need for balance as a critical component of all healthy exercise schedules. This balance between healthy and unhealthy exercise ironically lies, not in the actual workout routine, but rather the motives behind the desire to workout.
To convey the dysfunctional thoughts which transform healthy activity to unhealthy activity, I will relate my own tragic tale. I began Hip Hop Abs sincerely, wanting to become healthy, fit and, yikes, I'll even own that I wanted to look hot in order to rope-in a boyfriend for the first time in my life. Still, on the whole I wanted to change for my own benefit, which is the correct motive; but that motive changed from good to bad to worse throughout phases of my weight loss. My reduction progressed almost effortlessly until I plateaued at 165 lbs. In fact, other than changing my food intake to account for my ever-decreasing body weight and switching from Hip Hop Abs to Turbo Jam + Bartending, I didn't alter my workouts at all. Suddenly I was stuck, and very scared that I wouldn't reach my goal weight of 130 lbs. It didn't take my biological Mind long to figure out that if I worked out more, I'd proportionately lose more weight. With that intention my workouts turned from fun and goofy to intense, as I felt a compulsive need to reach my goal. Admittedly, I've always been a goal-oriented extremists with an all-or-nothing attitude. Though it served me well in my academic endeavors, this personality trait was now throwing me off balance and leading me down a path towards exercise addiction. Continuing under the guise of healthy motives, I began exercising multiple times a day, multiple hours at a time. As a result my weight dropped to 145 lbs, but again I leveled out. At my worst I was exercising in excess of 3 hours a day and lying about my workout schedule to evade concerns expressed by friends and family. I had done this for over 2 months but my weight never budged from 145 lbs; I had subsequently lost my menstrual cycle, suffered from frequent hypoglycemic attacks, my anxiety and panic was off the charts, and my scalp was easily visible through my thin, brittle hair. Here's the magnificently humiliating fact: I HAVE A MASTERS IN BIOLOGY. I knew full-well that a starved body will not, and cannot, lose weight. Indeed, gain weight becomes more probable as the Body stores every ounce of food consumed, as well as slowing the metabolism to an absolute crawl to protect reserves. Anyway, a random bought of Vegas-fever cured this horrible habit long enough to drop me down to 130 lbs, but I had already solidified my addiction.
After I was down to my goal weight thoughts regarding my exercise schedule shifted yet again, this time I had to somehow learn to maintain my new and mysterious Body. How exactly does one learn to maintain a weight when dieting has been their life for almost 2 years; is there an un-diet? I had no idea how much to eat or how much to workout, and I was positively terrified of regaining weight. In an attempt to figure how to control this magic number, I joined a clinical trial that told me exactly how many calories I burned during my day-to-day activities so that I could balance my exercise regimen with my food consumption and manage my weight. Great, right? Wrong. The data reported told me what I had suspected all my life, I have a naturally snail-paced metabolism. Compared to someone of the same height and weight, I burn around 300-400 calories less in a typical day. It was official: God hates me. I could now continue my wicked ways carrying a signature victim flag, a component of the Slow Metabolism Club's welcome packet. My workouts were now necessary to combat my dreadfully slow metabolism, a burden imposed upon me by genetics. Exercise ceased to be enjoyable, I even began resenting workouts. They were now an obligation, and I truly believed that if I missed so much as one session I was doomed to instantly balloon out to 250 lbs. This is the direct danger of being an extremist; I was either going to be obese or emaciated, nothing in between was tolerable despite my Body giving me very clear signs that it was happiest at 145 lbs, past which it refused to grow hair or menstruate.
I've always loved Karaoke! Left: May 2007, Right: January 2009
I'm horrified to admit that this mentality, though steadily decreasing over the last 2 years, has continued to rule my life until about 2 months ago, and I will continue to live with this tendency towards imbalance in some respects my entire life. So what changed recently? Once again, I shifted my motives for exercising and realized something phenomenal, that I don't need to workout at all. I partake in physical exertion for all of the beneficial reasons detailed in Part II, none of which have anything to do with weight loss! Ironically I exercise more now than I ever did before, dedicating an hour of my day to physical and mental health with a combination of cardiovascular, resistance and Yoga training; but I do it because it's something I truly enjoy, not activity required to stay thin. When it's not feeling up to it, my Body tells me to back off or take a rest day and I always try my best to listen, sometimes striking a compromise for my Mind's sake. Exercise needs to benefit both the Body and the Mind. As in any relationship, when an activity functions to serve one more heavily than the other, you've reached a point of harmful imbalance.
This abuse of exercise does not just originate from obsessions with weight however, which is evident from my friend's story of how exercise became her only defense against uncontrollable Depression. Working out over 4 hours a day provided her the only comfort she'd experienced since the onset of the debilitating depression. Having gone through recent relationship turmoil, she turned to exercise to extract her feelings of pain and loss. She also wasn't eating or sleeping, and her Body quickly became seriously ill under the immense physical and mental stress. In her own words 'I was exercising because the physical pain relieved the emotional pain.' Eventually she saw what she was doing to her Body and knew she had to stop, but her story serves as a valuable lesson to us all. When we use working out as a means of controlling fear and/or pain, our activity becomes a detrimental habit, and one that the Body cannot sustain.
On one a final note, let's not forget that Anandamide is our Body's natural THC molecule, which is quite literally a drug and drugs are addictive. Given the opportunity to flee the chaos inside our Minds, the Mind/Body will take it and become dependent on it for solace. Missing a workout should not dictate one's mood, that is a sure sign of imbalance and faulty motives. Just ensure the purposes for exercising are balanced according to Part II, allow for flexibility and always consider the needs of the Mind, Body and Soul.
Conclusion
Congratulations, you made it! Your prize is a new motivation to get your ass in gear. To help you get started here are a few bonus tips:
Choosing the Proper Equipment
My Mind, Body and Soul react differently to different types of exercise equipment and activities. Personally, I relax and mindlessly blast away stress while watching the news or movies on the Stairmaster, or an Elliptical. When I want to connect with my intuition I run on the Treadmill either with or without Hip Hop music, or row while envisioning myself rowing along a beautiful lake. My Soul sings the loudest while running however, and each time it floods my Mind and Body with inspiration of all varieties. Currently I'm really enjoying 'We Run the Night' by Havana Brown [see video above], and now I'm the one doing inane fist-pumps on the treadmill at 5:30am. To reconnect my Mind, Body and Soul, Yoga is the simple and graceful solution. Additionally, I strongly endorse varying workouts from day to day as its important for activation of different muscle groups, as well as avoiding muscle fatigue and general boredom. Furthermore, if you're not the Cardio machine type, many people find their unique exercise benefits realized best through group Cardio or Lifting workouts, or by playing sports. It doesn't matter what you do, or when you do it, just commit that time to yourself and enjoy it!
10-Minute Minimum
Regardless of the type of activity you choose, once you begin to exercise stay with it for at least 10 minutes. Though it certainly fluctuates form person to person, this is the approximate amount of time required for the Body to warm up and get moving, the Mind to release its most distracting thoughts thus creating space for intuition and clarity, and the Soul to warm up its vocal cords and connect with the collective energy of its environment. So, even if you feel horrible, depressed, tired, etc., stick it our for at least 10 minutes. You'll find typically find that those feelings ebb, but if they don't you may need a rest day; listen to and respect the Body.
I sincerely hope that I've shown you all the benefits that exercise has to offer in leading a healthy, happy and balanced life. Regardless of excuses, or what you may think and feel about your Body, these benefits can and will be yours if you put forth honest effort. Exercise, because you're worth it.
This morning a news segment featuring Severance, Colorado laid the small town's claim to fame in serving the nation's best Rocky Mountain Oysters at Bruce's Bar. The website and welcome sign even accentuate their pride in this culinary oddity; Rocky Mountain Oysters are, of course, battered and deep-fried bull testicles.
Imagine my astonishment when I heard that they served a variety of this delicacy, namely Bull, Buffalo and Turkey. It made me wonder if the Buffalo and Turkey options were added as healthier substitutes for Bull. Despite the origin of the equipment, however, the balls are still battered and deep-fried so I can't imagine the nutritional values would greatly deviate from one animal to the next. The truly shameful component of this meal lies not within its progenitor but its
3,500 mg of sodium. This surpasses the total daily recommended allowance for salt in only a hand full of baby-makers! I watched with amusement as the reporter took a dainty bite with extreme apprehension. Though she admitted the Oysters tasted great, not at all surprising due to the nature of their preparation, she still couldn't bring herself to describe what she was eating. Come on, who hasn't put a testicle in their mouth at least once? Live a little.
[Forward: This is the first of my new Review series, in which I'll provide my humble opinion regarding restaurants, books, movies, music, etc. each week. My overall impression is given as a 'Take-Home-Message' at the end of the review. By the way, this is less about me thinking my opinion is terribly important as it is an attempt to engage in something new every week; but let's face it, my opinion is worth its weight in gold.]
Garbanzo Mediterranean Grill is Middle Eastern food for dummies. They take the fear and mysticism of middle eastern cuisine down to a comfortable level, and even those who desperately cling to their Big Macs would feel comfortable venturing out and trying the shwarma or falafel at this restaurant. Seasoned foodies also enjoy Garbanzos for a quick and refreshing kick in the taste buds. Though their menu offers the very basics of the cultural cuisine, the ingredients are abundant and healthy, and the quality is superb. With a staggering variety of toppings for pitas and laffas, which are baked in-house, they also offer plates, combinations platters, soups, salads and side items. Best of all, they currently rank amongst the most healthy eateries in Denver, a category which should be taken very seriously in a country rife with obesity. Additionally, it costs no more than any other menu item at other less healthy fast food restaurants, so there are no more excuses; get out there and try something new and healthy!
I also love restaurants that use funny slogans and was thus delighted by a sign in the bathroom that read 'I'd wash my hands if I had them, but I'm a bean,' complete with their Garbanzo emblem.
I can't speak to the Garbanzos around the entirety of the country, but the location on S. Colorado, around University Hills in Denver, is clean and happily situated. The staff were phenomenally helpful, friendly and patient as I hymned and hawed over the many choices before me; pickled eggplant? Yes, please! A friend and I sat on their enclosed patio enjoying unseasonably warm weather for almost 4 hours and no one kicked us out, a definite plus.
Though Garbanzos is certainly not the best Middle Eastern restaurant in Denver, they don't profess to be; instead they diligently serve their function as a quick, healthy and delicious lunch option for the nutritionally aware. Just be sure to come in expecting exactly what it is, healthy fast food with an un-intimidating cultural kick.
Summer's Take-Home-Message: Definitely worth a try!
Trying out my new Yoga mat this morning. It's rubber so no more hand slipping! Obviously my Yoga practice is extremely important, that rubber friggin' mat set me back $60.
On a separate note, I'm giving the final push for the long-awaited "Runner's High: The Universal Benefits of Exercise" article. I'm making the last edits tomorrow morning as it's always best to sleep on it, then it'll be out and I will have have experienced something like giving birth to a 13 pound baby. Seriously, this one took a lot out of me, but it's going to be worth every sentence. You'll see.
Today I became convinced that my frequent meditation practice had actually prompted my body to begin growing a third eye. I quickly became disappointed however, when I realized it was just a gigantic zit.
Today's thought is that I'm so busy writing other complicated and in-depth articles, which are going to take weeks to finish, that I don't have time for a thought of the day!
Here's a random thought for you: Brussel Sprouts are adorable because they look like tiny cabbages, and the miniature version of anything qualifies as cute.
Just in case anyone needs reassurance, here is a great example that I'm still prone to chronic worrying and habitually anxious thoughts. I write these articles for my own benefit, as well as the benefit of others, as I'm diligently practicing what I preach. Yesterday afternoon it was near 70 degrees, but the wind was gusting up to 85 mph. After work I got out to my car to find a cracked windshield; likely hit by something blown by the wind, and I sincerely tried to convert an 'oh shit' thought to 'oh well.' That much I could handle but all the way home, a 1.5 hour commute, I stared at the crack convinced that it was spreading but I just couldn't be sure. I swerved all the way home, horribly distracted. Fortunately, the crack is just below my line of sight and headed over to the passenger side so all-in-all, as long as my windshield doesn't spontaneously shatter, the replacement and its cost can wait. One worry down, good for me!
At 2:30 am I awoke to the roar of my bladder and also the hurricane-force winds blowing through my apartment complex. Since I get up a 4:00 am I began worrying about how the winds would effect my day. Should I delay my commute on the dark, barren, flat, highways and risk losing my windshield altogether? Do I go to Boulder to workout as usual, or go straight to work in Longmont so I can leave early, or workout at some other time and location during the day? Skip out on the workout and become a Human tumbleweed? Would US-36 to Boulder blow my tiny, light, recently paid-off car around worse then I-25 to Longmont? Soon I envisioned myself drive and to my horror felt a gust of wind hit my car, sending it rolling into the ditch. Suddenly an insurance adjustor was informing me the car was a total loss and they were only going to give me $1,000 towards a new car. Oh no, I thought, but I had just paid the loan off and I can't afford another car payment! I tried to snap out of it, remembering my principles and repeatedly asking myself 'where are you now?' in an attempt to bring myself back into the present; realizing that I was safe at home and not in a ditch somewhere between Denver and Northern Colorado.
Miraculously from about 3:30 am to 3:45 am the winds quieted significantly and I had managed to get enough of a grip on myself to get up and figure out the day as I go. I soon discovered, however, that flying by the seat of my pants was my only choice. The winds had died down because a sudden blizzard had hit Denver. When Charlie and I went out for our morning walk we were met with about 2 inches of blowing, thickly falling snow, the type that pushes tires every way except straight. I donned my gym clothes and went for it, resolving to head to Boulder to workout, relying on a slow and considerate speed along with my new tires to get me there safe and sound. Well, I was not 1 mile from home before my car had lost control and spun out 3 times, despite my 15 mph speed. A tiny curve was enough to put my car in a 360 spin that I damn near failed to correct in time. Then something beautiful happened, I can finally say I'm proud of myself because my next move surprised even me. I turned right and headed to the Lowry gym close to home and decided to relax with some news, Cardio and Yoga at the gym, after which time I'd tackle making a decision about commuting to work; for me, the non-anxious road much less traveled! Now I'm sitting at home writing happily as I wait for traffic to die down before heading north, where there is absolutely no snow by the way. Thank you Denver, for throwing me for a loop through which I was able to jump unscathed by my typical level of anxiety.
I realize this shit seems like small potatoes, and right now many people are wishing they had my pithy problems. The severity of anxiety disorders is in constant fluctuation, however, from small amounts of worry about day to day crap to all out panic arising from random thoughts and situations. I know because I've been there; I've experienced the gamut. Because I practice what I preach, I'm proud to say the things I still worrying about are indeed trivial. And as I routinely break my habit of anxious thinking they continue to shrink, providing more entertainment than fear and pain. Know that anyone can do this, and I'm here to help in any way possible.
My boss came over to me today to comment on my outfit. Apparently she finds it hysterical that I'm dressed in what appears to be a catholic school girl uniform with blue/white/black patterned skirt, white sweater, blue scarf and white tights, yet you can see the various tattoos on my legs through the tights.
What can I say? I'm a walking, talking, paradox and proud of it!
Happy Monday! My favorite thing to do, especially on a Monday morning, is smile at every single person I lock eyes with and observe how many smile back. Nearly everyone shows at least a half-hearted attempt to smile.
As I previously explained, we are all connected by a universal energy [See E=mc^2]. This is precisely why smiles are infectious. Just as sure as you can feel the negative energy teeming from the Grumpy-Gus or Sally-Sob-Story next to you, they can likewise feel your positive energy. Smile, if they resist it by getting even more bent-out-of-shape, smile all the brighter and throw in a laugh for good measure. Why? Because they'll either break-down and smile back or get pissed, either way you did your best to radiate positive energy; good for you!
If you are the one being a negativity-soaked asshole, look around to find someone who is smiling. Now, instead of willing them to fall down a man-hole, envision them doing the Chicken Dance naked, that ought to inspire a smile.
Remember, we choose how we feel. Take responsibility for both your upbeat and shitty attitudes and note which makes you happier. Our attitudes can change in an instant, that's the frustrating beauty of the Human mind.
Good Person: Someone who does the best they can with what they've got.
Who then, by definition, is a good person? Everyone. From the begging pan-handler, the obtuse store clerk, the cheating spouse, the ambitious student, the immoral serial killer, the wealthy CEO, the selfish superstar and the powerful diplomat, to Mother Theresa and Jesus Christ himself; all humans, all flawed, all doing their best with the resources available to them in this Human life.
What are these resources? Forget material resources like money; our true resources are the characteristics that we were either born with, or those we picked up sometime during our life. Though not conspicuous, these resources are our weaknesses, our character defects. All strength is born from weakness. [Please consider that statement; everyone must realize that truth for themself.]
We are all equally capable of committing each of the finite number of human mistakes, defects, sins, etc. What distinguishes us, however, is that we each take on certain sets of defects as habits. I, for example, am not in the habit of lying, but I am prone to conceitedness. Some defects are common and obvious like stubbornness, judgment, vanity, deceit, rage and promiscuity. Others like killing, stealing and acute drug/alcohol addiction are less common and therefore mistakenly seem worse. Still others are extremely subtle such as obsessive thinking, compulsive speech, as well as negative self-image and self-talk. These flaws are especially dangerous as they are so engrained into our Human psyche we do not see them as defects, and the cause of our suffering. It is critical to realize that each of these defects, along with the myriad of others, are nothing more than habits of our Minds and Bodies. The great news is that all habits can be broken; the bad news is that it takes a lot of work to first become aware of these troublesome habits, then actively set to breaking the cycle.
'But Summer, they are just such a horrible person, they've done such awful things! How can I possibly see them as a Good Person?' Simple; compassion. Know that you, along with that piece-of-shit Human you hate, comes from the same stock. You both have made, and will continue to make, the very same mistakes only at different times throughout your lives and to varying degrees of severity.
Ok get ready, this may sting a bit; now turn this definition inward. Are you satisfied with your life? Are you generally unhappy; moody, anxious or depressed? Are you doing your best? Are YOU a Good Person? If you either said 'No,' or your inner voice is currently stone-walling you, you have some work to do my friend; hard work at that. And for God's sake stop thinking, 'but the people that said Yes are probably just lying to themselves!' Don't worry about them, worry about YOU.
I know this sounds incredibly harsh, but these are the questions that can affect real change in your life, and initiated my own transformation. Through exhaustive self-reflection, confusion and raw determination, I've begun to convert constant anxiety, and severe mental and general health issues, to a more relaxed approach to life's perpetual and beautiful changes. I see both the silver lining of happiness that surrounds my life, and that I am, in fact, a Good Person.
Here's the culmination of everything I've learned in my 27 years: If you don't shit everyday you're either not eating enough of the right food, or you simply aren't drinking strong enough coffee.
I was born,
I was fussy,
I was joyous,
I was questioning,
I was abandoned,
I was scared,
I was longing,
I was optimistic,
I was disappointed,
I was diligent,
I was fat,
I was controlling,
I was rejected,
I was independent,
I was celebrated,
I was educated,
I was extroverted,
I was judgmental,
I was proud,
I was anxious,
I was devastated,
I was confused,
I was skinny,
I was lost,
I was loved,
I was stressed,
I was organized,
I was infertile,
I was unconscious,
I was addicted,
I was broken,
I was crazy,
I was inconsolable,
I was inspired,
I was reborn,
I was humbled,
Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Whether you're a cynic or a romantic, if you woke up breathing be thankful. And remember, if you feel alone there's always Craig's List or 1-900 numbers!
Here's a little something to cheer you up either way.
According to 'The Diary of Jenna Woods' I have consistently experienced exercise-induced epiphanies, even at the height of my obesity. This ties in nicely with my next article 'The Universal Benefits of Exercise,' which will detail my biological, psychological and spiritual definitions for the phenomena of 'Runner's High;' coming soon to a blog near you.
Today was another typical day, I found myself doing yet more useless things then the day before.How is it so possible that everything I do feels like such a waste of time; work, waiting in lines for pointless reasons, sitting in my apartment listening to music and telling myself “yeah I’ll eventually get those four loads of laundry done”.It’s inevitable that the minutes will turn quickly to hours, and I will end up wasting my night watching TV or writing in my diary.But I actually found a reason to write today, not like most days when I fill these pages with nonsense.Tonight I have a purpose.I had an epiphany while working out tonight.
For maybe the tenth time since I’ve joined the gym this year, I decided to go and workout.Just a feeling I got, like my body was pushing maximum density and I needed to do something about it.So, I was on the same elliptical machine as usual.The gym was filled with the same old tired shit.People who were too fat to really do anything but were just there to say that they were trying (my favorite kind).The girls that were in disgustingly good shape and didn’t actually need to be there were taking up precious space as usual.Then there were the people that I relate to the most.These are the people who are there making an effort to better themselves but are so repulsed by their own reflection that they can’t stand to even look in the mirror.I’m working out and listening to my tunes, and of course my mind is racing faster and faster as I watch all the people below.I couldn’t get enough of what I saw, things that kept me so entertained I thought I’d have to stay there all night long.
Of course you have all the jocks.The guys who only got into college on a sports scholarship, these were the same stupid morons who couldn’t even comprehend the Pythagorean theorem.Basically all they knew was to take steroids cause their coach told them too.Also, these are the same hypocritical homophobes that justify smacking a guy’s ass because they are up 12 points in the first quarter.It should go without saying they make me fucking sick.Then I realized that this population has been growing to such an enormous rate that there are now girls like that too, unbelievable.I will say nothing more about them however; because well, they would kick my ass.And imagine my amazement when I discovered a door that only these Neanderthals went in, it only solidified my steroid theory but I never suspected that the gym would give them there own room for it.I could almost see them behind the closed doors with their tourniquets, wincing with pain as the needle was jabbed into their arm.
Next to my utter amusement, I saw three women journalists I knew from a conference meeting I had attended in Cleveland a month ago.They are the stereotypical, in shape, “I have a perfect life” type.They were all dressed oh so fashionably in their $150 dollars Adidas workout outfits and $80 dollars Nike sneakers.Even though there were people around me I couldn’t suppress my laughter.It was far too much for me to bear.As one of the women took up two dumbbells, too perfect a word I’m sure, and began doing a simple bicep set the others stood beside her with their hands on their non-child bearing hips chatting like mother hens in a hen house, that had just been thrown a new rooster.I couldn’t help but question their lives.I knew they were hiding things, it was all too apparent in their eyes, the empty sadness that it was all just a waste.In truth, it was easy to figure out that their husbands were screwing their babysitters or something similar.They were completely powerless in their world, so to the outside world they put on their perfect faces and belittled other people.Feel better now?In some ways I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them.That feeling quickly disappeared after they gave me a demeaning look and started giggling.It was at that time that I started planning their deaths.They love to justify my hatred for them.
And ah, the fat people who so desperately want to be thin.The ones that wish they had the strength to be bulimic or anorexic.It’s so sad to watch them, they have such potential.They could be happy if the world would just leave them the hell alone.It seems to amaze me how being fat is such a burden to the rest of the world.It’s like someone whose standing next to a heavy person and they give them that look, like “oh no it’s contagious”.Well I have news for you asshole, being fat isn’t a disease, but being a jackass is terminal.I have much respect for the fat people, sometimes I wish I could tell them to stop exercising and go eat some cake.Unfortunately this magnificent potential in fat people is hidden because of the ones that are hell bent on getting thin.They are doing it to be like those dumb asses that are walking Puma models, it’s sad.For this reason I find them even more pathetic than all the rest.I finally got so sick of my contempt for the entire human race that I left.
Although not so obvious my epiphany was this; I hate everybody, my life is shit so I feel the need to knock everybody down to my level and find a reason why they are more pathetic than I am, but I still think that knowing your life is imperfect is far more healthy than acting like it is.It’s all an act for others to see so they will envy those pathetic losers.These people go home and cry themselves to sleep because they can’t deal with how fake they are.Some have even lost the ability to see through the web of bullshit that they have spun around themselves and their lives.For the first time when I was driving home to my shitty little apartment and my shitty little life I felt pure happiness, because I finally realized that I wasn’t like anybody, I’m completely unique, just like everybody else.
Afterword by the Author
I wrote this semi-autobiographical work as part of my freshman year Punk Rock CAS class. Our professor, a Physics graduate student named Drew who I mistook for a fellow classmate on the first day of class, had split the class into four groups and instructed each to construct a 'Zine featuring articles written, submitted, reviewed and accepted by classmates. I was a proud member of the Media group and quickly found that the project cultivated creative visions my scientific mind had largely suppressed with the exception of making elaborate collages in High School, a skill I later put to work on our 'Zine's covers.We titled our 'Zine 'Fuck MTV,' my idea, and 'The Diary of Jenna Woods' was a revered article to my extreme surprise. One of our classmates liked it so much she also put it in her Literary 'Zine; I was later scolded for having the article in two 'Zines, which my professor considered taboo. Out of four 'Zines, Fuck MTV won the class-wide contest, due both to our groups excellent selection of articles, and the fake advertisements and a word search I designed. My contributions to Fuck MTV inspired the first emotions of profound pride I've ever felt for my previously untapped creative talents. I haven’t written much since, unless you count my Master’s Thesis and Facebook status updates, but obviously it’s always been an unrealized passion.
Upon further reflection my story clearly indicates two things: one, my 18 year-old self was obviously not an enthusiast of syntax, and two, I was a deeply contemptuous adolescent. Indeed, I often delighted in passing judgment on others and also created fictional realities to justify those judgments, as illustrated above. When I wasn't going around being disgusted with the world and everyone in it, I was busying myself saying inappropriate remarks to make others feel uncomfortable or to get a rise out of them. I loved upsetting people, it made me feel powerful. Is it easy to admit these harsh truths regarding my cynicism? No, but I'm human and therefore flawed. Also, I acted in accordance with the vast majority of other humans I've known throughout my life. This is not an excuse, rather a critical lesson through observation, without which we cannot hope to develop as human beings. Every judgment outlined in my work was nothing short of a reproach meant for myself and my life. Though it's easy to see now, that fact completely eluded me at the time. In writing my tale I thought I was revealing the despicable world around me: the jocks, the dim-wits, the rich and frivolous, the unjustly successful, the judgmental gossips, the skinnies, the fatties and the lazies. It never occurred to me that the world I hated was actually inside of me.
Consider this nasty little fact: The way we perceive others is simply a mechanism for seeing ourselves. In other words, we project views of ourselves onto those around us. When we pass judgment on people, we are actually looking into a dirty mirror, perceiving and judging our own hazy insecurities.
Well, if you're surprised Whitney Houston died, you really shouldn't be. Nor should it be surprising that they aren't sure what killed her yet; pick a drug, any drug. Who is Larry Ulibarri going to trash without his steady stream of Whitney material? Thank God Mariah Cary's still alive.
All joking aside, I want to sincerely thank Whitney for her Bodyguard album. My sister's and I used to clear away everything in the dining room and sing and dance to that album until we were completely exhausted; often listening to it multiple times. We seriously did this at least once a week for years. Come to think of it, I now have a much greater appreciation for my Father. How the hell did he handle three little girls, Amanda- 9, Sarah- 8 and Me- 7, screeching and whirling around on a continuous Whitney Houston high. What's more, I always remember seeing a smile on his face.
I woke up remembering a vivid, very odd, dream this morning. Given who accompanied me in the dream and the unique situation it portrayed, I decided that though there may be a 'big-picture' lesson in the dream I shouldn't pay too much attention to the particulars, thinking them a bit far fetched to be actualized or relevant.
A dream such as this is not atypical for me; I frequently have extremely memorable, random and lucid dreams. Many times throughout my childhood, and even now in adulthood, I'm unable to easily discern when I'm dreaming, especially while napping. The cue is usually my ability to instantly, magically, control any situation, which never happens in the wakeful state and doesn't that just suck. Anyway, I've had a new audio lecture on 'The Power of Intuition' by Deepak Chopra for awhile, and decided to listen to it on this morning's commute. The focus of the lecture was the importance of our dreams, their significant contribution to our intuition, allowing our dreams to guide us and minding the details; the plot thickens.
So, does this mean that I will take up with a best friend of 23 years, who has been estranged for the past 4 years, in a frat house, snacking on pizzas and some sort of delicious pumpkin-cream cheese pastries, and take in a dog from a woman who somehow was also connected with my ex-fiance? There was also something about being bugged by a group of little boys for money. I made the woman eat a pastry and told her it was calorie-free to ease her guilt; now that sounds about right. The rest, however, is confusing but interesting to analyze.
The old friend represents feeling an old, profound, comfort in a new relationship, and definitely has nothing to do with that particular friend. I shared a unique connection with that person, however, and have longed for its replication in another for many years. The frat house was filthy, loud and disgusting, not at all where I'd be comfortable, but being with my friend made me happily ignorant of my hatred for the environment and we lived there without consequence. The frat aspect could also relate to a new and exciting relationship I've been forming, but its future is far from clear at this time and I'm actively practicing non-action to understand the significance it will play in my life. For me eating the pizza and pastries represents a liberation from my eating disorder, and a welcomed sign indeed. The connection to my previous relationship: God's way of kicking me in the stomach? No, surely it has some meaning as well. I mentioned the connection to the women in passing and don't remember feeling any sort of pain or emotional attachment, simply thinking her giving us the dog was more of a strange coincidence. These random connections to our pasts have a way of sneaking into our current lives, perhaps the lesson is to not allow them to affect our new relationships.
And the group of young male solicitors? This likely signifies my resentment of the republican primary race, viewing them as young-minded and definitely solicitous. I pulled that out of no-where, it's not what I actually think the dream meant, but I had no better response and I really do dislike the depth of media coverage regarding the primary.
In short, according to this dream, my intuition is telling me that I'm on the right track with my eating disorder, that a new relationship can bring the comfort comparable to an old one with the strength that enables me to tolerate the ordinarily intolerable, and finally that connections with past relationships need not affect new ones; I dig it.
This morning I heard the astonishing results of the Chocolate Cake Diet study done at a University in Israel, which I didn't find so astonishing. The key here is spiking your metabolism early in the day and eating less calories later as the day progresses. It also keeps you from binging on foods that you crave, yet deny yourself, while dieting. My belief is that dessert is meant to be eaten in the morning in the form of pancakes stuffed with peanut butter, chocolate and bananas!
This study also reminds me of the tail-end of my own weight loss. I was 15 pounds from my goal and nothing I did, no matter how extreme, budged me off of the 145lb plateau. What did I do? I said F*&$ It! I went to Vegas, did nothing but eat, drink and dance for 3 straight days, possibly contracted a VD, then came back and continued my daily routine. Two weeks later I hit my goal! You have to confuse your metabolism by varying the calories you take in every day; once it gets accustomed to a set workout regimen and diet, you'll hit Plateau-ville hard. So, if you're on a diet and currently stuck at one weight, go on a 3 day bender, it'll do wonders!
The picture of the pug puppy on my page today instantly recalled a memory which I find amusing, especially since it makes me proud of the spunk I brought into this world. I was helping my mom with Senior Night Bingo at the local Legion; it's an annual fundraiser for the senior class of LaFargeville Central School, my old Alma mater, and of course all of the seniors were there to work as well. Though I don't recall the particulars, I think we were making pizza, a senior named Marty had said something to me that was meant to put me in my rightful place as a squat little pip-squeak. Well, I proceeded to run up one side of this kid and down the other, he had no idea what hit him and I ended my verbal beratement with 'When you were young, you were so pitiful and ugly that your mom had to tie a bone around your neck to get the damn dog to play with you!' He stood there, in shocked-awe, and openly bowed to his aggressor; waving the white pizza of surrender, admitting defeat. I was in seventh grade and I had just bested the most popular and attractive senior in our little world at LCS, effectively securing my position as one of the most venerated students in school, and certainly no one to entice into battle.
Mom was so proud, I'm pretty sure I saw tears in her eyes.
I've always been quick with a razor sharp come back, and I had the Balls and inherent knack for deploying my lexical assaults at precisely the time to achieve maximum emotional devastation. This defense mechanism began in grade school when I decided to collect an arsenal of verbal abuses in the form of an 'Insult Book,' a notebook in which I kept every 'Your Momma' and 'You're so Ugly/Stupid' insults I knew or could originate. As the the shortest and fatest girl at school, I came to believe such precautions necessary. Better still, I was the most intelligent; my Book ensured that I would surely surmount any kid that tried to emotionally maim me, and that I would succeed in having the last word. Most of the time, however, I enjoyed the first word as I would preemptively strike to deter the others from ever saying anything about my weight. This is the grade school equivalent of killing someone at random, putting their head on a spike, then parading through the town to let everyone know that you are not to be fucked with; oh dear, I was quite the little terror.
Just my opinion, and it's my blog so it certainly belongs here, Augusten Burroughs puts David Sedaris to shame. When it comes to satirical, self-serving, extremely eccentric homos, it just doesn't get better than Augusten!
Holy sweet Jesus, mother of God; I think I've finally achieved adulthood! I just paid off all of my medical bills, my first car loan(!!), sent my Mom $3,000 to help her out and I still have enough left over to travel around Europe for two months in a leisurely manner.
Life really doesn't get better than this; here's to cashing in retirement funds you don't need when you're 27!
PS This is not an invitation for people to ask me for money, hahaha.
[Premise: My unconventional definitions for common words, with an aim for looking at typical concepts in a new, inspiring, light. Some of these definitions will be well known euphemisms or simply random thoughts that come to my mind, usually while exercising. Consequently, my three-fold definition for the term 'Runner's High' will serve as the entire basis for my next article: 'Runner's High: The Universal Benefits of Exercise']
Yoga: The Body's presentation of its own intentions and capabilities. It's way of saying 'I forgive you,' for any past torment or abuse caused to it by the Mind, and/or the Mind's imposed limitations.
My Experience: Having studied the Eastern Religions of Buddhism and Hinduism in college, I thought the Western concept of physical Yoga missed the mark of true Yogic practice, which is to achieve enlightenment and transcend human consciousness. For years I vehemently opposed the idea of going to Yoga classes, believing it was more of a vain attempt by Western Soccer Moms to add depth to their superficial lives. Can we say 'judgemental'?
I finally broke down and tried Yoga to see what everyone was raving about. Since 2009 I've had a set exercise regime of cardio workouts and pilates strength training, so I was confident that I could physically handle anything Yoga had to throw at me. It proved true except for a few posses I found physically impossible, ones I doubted I'd ever be able to pull-off because my body simply didn't bend that way; I'm not meant to balance my knees on my elbows with my ass in the air, or to hold my legs straight in the air while lying down and my lower back propped up by my elbows. Nonetheless, I always felt serene and content after Yoga classes and often carried that positivity with me for a couple of days, at least until something or someone pissed me off, at which point I knew it was Yoga-time. I practiced this way for months, getting progressively more balanced and adept at my practice, yet still unable to pull-off those impossible posses. About two weeks ago, however, I decided that instead of thinking I couldn't do these positions, I was going to mindfully ignore those thoughts and attempt them anyway, even if it meant falling out of position and landing on the person next to me. In two shorts weeks I've accomplished 3 posses I once thought impossible; I have a new found appreciation and respect for my Body, it is obviously capable of much more than my Mind ever gave it credit for, and I can balance on points of my body so bizarre I feel like a Cirque de Soleil performer.
Nothing is comparable to the feeling of soulful strength achieved during sincere Yogic practice. By sincere I mean following the Body's inclinations without judgment from the Mind, the typical thoughts of limitation which cause the Body to think it cannot attempt certain difficult positions. Yoga teaches us that the limitations on our Body are a consequence of the Mind, instead of muscle tone or strength. It allows the Body to communicate to the Mind, instead of the other way around, and brings the Mind/Body into harmony.
Big shout out to the hard working staff at my apartment complex! Though the leasing office was closed yesterday due to the storm, the grounds-men worked all day removing snow and were back at it at 6am this morning. I went around telling each of them how much Charlie and I appreciate them, despite Charlie's barking and growling; I think he was afraid of the shovels.
I'd also like to thank the random guy who pushed my car out of it's parking spot this morning. He seemingly appeared out of nowhere as I was busy 'rocking' my way out of the spot, and I'm really glad I saw him in time to avoid running him over in the process.
Finally, BIG-UPS to CDOT who finally realized there are more functions for a snow-plow than clearing runways at DIA.
All in all a 13" snow day of relaxation and beauty!
Imagine my excitement when I discovered that the campus convenience store sold No-Doz, and I could purchase it with fake money via my meal plan. I had always enjoyed an increased sensitivity to caffeine, indeed all pharmaceutical and recreational drugs. Friends used to refer to me as the ‘one hit wonder.' This intolerance didn’t make a lot of sense to me since historically bigger people exhibit an increased tolerance to such drugs on account of all the places it could get ‘lost’ in their body, mainly fat cells. One cup of coffee, or one caffeinated soda, was enough to spin me off into oblivion like a top toy wound up by a jet engine. I would literally bounce off the walls, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
The effect was so profound, in fact, that many times at parties my friends could not tell if I’d consumed copious amounts of alcohol or simply swallowed one No-Doz. Each had the same effect on my behavior, which only served to amplify my already boisterous personality; a bit overwhelming for most no doubt. I treasured my intolerance to caffeine and took advantage of it frequently throughout college. Sometimes I would go weeks mixing No-Doz, coffee and diet coke only to experience a significant series of panic attacks and have to abstain from caffeine completely. The magical day I decided it was again safe, the period of abstinence had further raised my sensitivity and I’d experience a superior high. I loved that rush, the feeling that if only I had the correct bone density and some starched sheets I could fly.
I know what you’re thinking: ‘we’re not talking about Speed, Meth’ or The Crank, so what’s the big deal? Where is this going? What is so awful about Caffeine?’ For about 90% of the population the answer is absolutely nothing, but once you reach the point of repeated burn-out, or the day comes when your suite-mates sit you down in a half-joking/half-serious manner and make you watch the episode of ‘Saved by the Bell’ in which Jessie flips her lid from taking caffeine pills from the pressure of providing both a star singing performance at ‘The Max’ and having to remember the Pythagorean Theorem for a geometry exam, it’s time to get a friggin’ grip. My first three college years were one No-Doz crazed episode after another, and I relate these tales below to fully disclose the ridiculousness of my caffeine infatuation and hopefully provide some laughs.
The first time I became aware that caffeine profoundly affected my thought patterns occurred early Freshman year during a two-hour general chemistry recitation that I had every Friday at 4pm; the horror! Anyway, if I didn’t pop a ‘Dozzie’ I inevitably fell asleep in the Green Lounge outside my recitation room and would sleep straight through it. Such is college life. One day, desperately seeking something to occupy my caffeine-saturated racing mind, other than normality values of acids and bases, I noticed a group of people waiting to get on an elevator. I watched in infatuated awe as one man waited for all the other people to get into the elevator before him, intentionally stepping in last. This seemingly inconsequential event was all I needed to be completely absorbed in thought. Why did he wait to be the last? Did he know he was only going up one or two floors and wanted to ensure minimal shuffling and interaction with others to get off the elevator? Was he simply a patient and kind person, allowing others to go before him? Was he afraid of elevators and wanted to bolt out of the elevator if he got too scared? I simply could not stop thinking about why this guy had acted that way. [Later in life I would regret my general obsession with questions to which there are no answers. This tendency is extremely dangerous, and I sincerely urge all to avoid such inclinations.]
As soon as the recitation let out I dashed back to the dorm to share this esoteric experience. I found my two best friends, Nancy and Nora [Collectively we were referred to as ‘The Trips’ and instilled fear and awkward feelings in the hearts of many around campus], working on their mechanical engineering homework in Nora’s room. I began verbally assaulting them with my mental meanderings. As my grandfather would say, ‘I was wound up like a 10-day clock, and my mouth was running like a whippoorwill’s asshole.’ [A whippoorwill is a bird, and no, I have no idea why is asshole is presumably going at mach 5.] They looked at me as though I had completely lost my mind and couldn’t understand why I’d let such a trivial observation consume my mental capacity. I loved it however, the entire experience; most of all the emphatic laughter that issued from my fellow ‘trips.’ Caffeine was the stimulus, and I recognized that it could turn even the most ordinary situations exciting and eventful. My obsession with caffeine was thus solidified.
Another memorable night I took caffeine to complete a chemistry lab report. I’m not talking about a simple write-up about making soap. As a science major at the University of Rochester a 10-15 page laboratory report was due every week for each lab, Chemistry and Biology, and each required detailed scientific observation, analysis and interpretation. Mentally, these reports were completely brutal. I popped a ‘Dozzie’ and began my introduction. At the same time I was having a deep conversation with my friend Steven, at SUNY Oswego, who was having issues with his girlfriend and needed my support. That was when the rush hit me and I simply couldn’t sit still. In the middle of both my report and my conversation, I again dashed over to call upon my ‘trips,’ this time for a good old-fashioned round of Frisbee on the clock quad. It was 2am, about 10 degrees and the snow falling so thick that you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face, let alone a frisbee soaring towards your face. In my haste I didn’t bother putting on real shoes or grab a jacket, I was wearing flip-flops and a hoodie. In the end I only managed to rouse Nancy, who complied unenthusiastically. In retrospect, I think she just wanted to make sure I didn’t have a heart attack while under the influence. When I got back to my room I crashed and the lab report went untouched. The next morning I read, feeling both amused and ashamed, the frantic IM messages that Steven had written me the night before. I had not told him that I was leaving to play Frisbee and he basically had a one-way freak out with someone who wasn’t receiving his messages in real-time. Now he was stressed about both girlfriend troubles and the mysterious disappearance of his friend in Rochester.
Caffeine always gave me the rush I needed to propel my typical level of crazy straight up to ‘bat-shit’ crazy. My suite-mates began to notice this trend and soon conspired against me for their own amusement. They all knew full well that, being from the ho-hum cow town of LaFargeville, NY, I could not resist dancing the ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ by the Rednex. To this day whenever I hear that song, especially under the influence, my feet lead the way and I dance until I collapse. They all found this compulsion both strange and extremely entertaining. One suite-mate, Margaret, was particularly enamored with my spunky, zealous, line-dance; I’ll never forget the sound of her laugh and the delighted expression on her face as she clapped along with the music. I was all too happy to oblige, but of course I only took No-Doz to get work done and I couldn’t work while dancing! Many nights and belated assignments passed in this manner.
This last tale is Grade A and epitomizes the ridiculousness of my caffeine abuse. At the very end of Fall semester Junior year I experienced extraordinary fatigue, which is uncommon for me. It turns out, after weeks of confusion regarding my fatigue, night sweats, and the softball-sized goiter that had appeared on the side of my neck, I had somehow contracted mono. Yes, I know it’s called ‘the kissing disease,’ and I would’ve been proud to lay claim to that mode of infection, but such was not the case. Actually, I’m fairly certain that I got it from a friend as we were sharing some sort of alcoholic concoction from a coke bottle. I guess there wasn’t enough booze in the drink or it would have killed the virus. I digress.
How was I going to complete my papers and study for finals when I feel asleep like a narcoleptic? Now here was a reason to effectively utilize my precious ‘Dozzie.’ One night, after taking 3 or so pills, the panic hit me like a ton of bricks. Here's the catch: I didn’t realize I was having a panic attack. In true panic attack fashion, I thought my symptoms were medically based and thus life threatening. I became convinced that the mono had caused one of my tonsils to abscess, it had thus swollen and was now blocking my windpipe; I was being suffocated by my own tonsil! The clock tolled 3am as I completely lost my grip on reality. I somehow got a hold of the doctor on call at UHS who called in a prescription for prednisone, a powerful corticosteroid and the only treatment for the mononucleosis virus, to the 24-hour CVS 10 miles away. I got my suite-mate Mona, who was a notorious insomniac, to drive my car and I to CVS for the drug. She didn’t have a driver’s license. What fun and adventure! Coincidentally the mono, though it sunk my A to a B in Biochemistry because I fell asleep for an hour during the final exam, saved me from straight-up failing Physics since I took an incomplete for the course and gave it a second go my Senior year. Even still I nearly failed, squeaking by with a B-. I hate Calculus based Physics, especially mechanics, with a vehement passion. Don’t ever ask me to calculate the angle of an incline, down which a 5 kg wooden block is sliding with a velocity of 2 m/s when the coefficient of kinetic friction is 2.1; I’ll punch you in the face. That about does it for the ‘Get to know Summer session.’
I had a lot of justifications for my caffeine addiction: It provided comic relief for my roommates, I had to stay awake for tedious science labs and recitations, begin reading/writing assignments at 3am which were due in merely hours, combat mono and, most importantly, the rush was fantastic! That rush, however, can quickly morph into a full-blown panic attack. Counterproductively, there are many things that people can’t do during a panic attack which include driving, talking, reading, watching TV, occupying any thought other than ‘I’m going to die,’ breath like a normal person, or productively functioning in any way whatsoever. So guess who wasn’t getting her work done despite taking No-Doz for that very purpose? Me.
In conclusion I’ll leave you with this food for thought concerning caffeine, it’s physiological effects and people’s individual sensitivity to it. Are you aware that the number one symptom of a food allergy is the body’s strong craving for precisely what you are allergic too? This is completely counter-intuitive, but is true nonetheless, ask anyone with Celiac disease. I discovered that my increased sensitivity to caffeine is actually an allergy, which is also why I experience such strong cravings for the drug. Also, since substances such as caffeine are so widely available and used, it is easy to forget their plant-origin and primordial biological purpose. Caffeine evolved as a natural pesticide that paralyzes and kills insects. Doesn’t it therefore strike you as odd that people would intentionally consume it in massive daily quantities? Let your common sense be your guide. The effects of caffeine are extremely variable from person to person. If you are prone to panic attacks, generalized anxiety or experience sensitivity to caffeine, use it sparingly and not at all during periods of increased anxiety.
Consequently, I’m not saying caffeine is either good or bad, rather that people must understand and respect their personal limits. For example, I allow myself, at most, one cup of coffee and one caffeinated soda a day. Even still I usually experience the shakes, light sensitivity and a feeling of dis-connectedness, all of which make it difficult to concentrate and complete tasks. When I over-indulge I typically find myself in panic city. During such times I sit and ponder what an asshole I am for knowingly ingesting too much caffeine as well as my impending demise.
