TWO gym memberships! That's right. No excuse not to work out like a mad-woman!
I know I gave Golds Gym quite a crappy review a few years ago. I still think it's a smelly gym compared to my beloved Club One. Sometimes, it's not the place, but the person that makes all the difference. There are two very important people in my life affiliated with Gold's. The first is my boyfriend, who needs to exercise his body as well as his brain while in graduate school. The second is a friend who teaches a fantastic power yoga class, and has talked me into getting certified to teach a few group classes myself.
Don't get too excited about yours truly becoming the next Jackie Warner (my female crush). I got the reading materials and DVDs from my friend last weekend, and I intend to read through, and just go from there. Because I don't have a degree in physiology or fitness, and I don't have any world records or big athletic achievements to speak of, my friend advised against personal training certification. She said that teaching classes is much more structured, guaranteed pay, and a good way to get my feet wet. This is opposed to having clients that drop like flies because 80% of them don't want to work out anyway. (I agree this would frustrate me.)
I don't know if fitness can be a career, but studying will give me some knowledge about my own fitness, and maybe certification could lead to a few more dollars in my pocket. Baby steps.
Because I know you miss my week in reviews:
3 weeks LOW/NO cheese
0 change in my weight (I'm still holding at 134)
6 training sessions completed with Dan
0 training sessions left with Dan :(
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
No complaints
My Gram passed away last week, so I took the first flight I could afford out of San Francisco on Saturday night to spend time with family at her funeral. Gram was 92, was in constant pain and depression, and prayed daily that God would take her home. The last 10 years of Gram's life were not the memories I would like to hold onto; instead it was the first 20 that were wonderful and happy.
Before my grandpa passed in 1988, my family and I would travel to Burlington, Iowa from Illinois in one of those classic family driving memories with my parents, older sister and brother:
"Mom! Scott took my bear and won't give it back."
"Dad, are we THERE yet?"
The beginning of the movie musical, The Music Man, the train passes from Illinois into Iowa, and they never go over a bridge - this part has always bothered me.
The last part of our journey was the "big" bridge (I had not yet see the Bay or Golden Gate Bridge) over the Mississippi into Burlington which was a beautiful river city with large red brick warehouses, the prominent Burlington Hotel, and the former hospital which overlooks the roadway from a tall bluff. We'd drive a few streets into the residential neighborhoods and on to Bertsch Street to a small, neat, white house with a front porch. Before we even pulled in we could smell Grams roast beef simmering in the oven, and wonder if Grandpa would take us to the park to fly a kite or play a tune on his organ.
My grandparents acted to be tremendously in love, and their silly little arguments would often turn into flirting. Gram was a homemaker, and Grandpa was a retired clerk for the railroad. They were surrounded by other family members in town, mostly Grams 10 brothers and sisters, their children, and grandchildren. Every year I learned names at our summer family reunions, only to forget their names again the next year. My grandparents kind of seemed like the matriarchs of the family - perhaps to me, at least.
My Grandpa's funeral was the first I'd ever attended - I was almost 9 years old. He was my favorite guy. He had the most beautiful dark hair that I liked to comb, he always had a bowl of peanuts on the front porch and would feed the chipmunks living under the porch. (The chipmunks loved him too. After he was gone, they also went away.) Most of all, Grandpa was a musician. He played an organ, and composed songs, mostly religious, but he also had fun songs about Santa Claus and funny things that kids do. Gram was never quite the same after Grandpa was gone. Her house was still impeccable, and she still made her roast beef, but there was always this odd chair missing at the dinner table. Luckily she had sisters, brothers, and University of Iowa football.
During the last 10 years, her health started failing, as well as her ambition to live. She sold the little white house, and moved in with her brother who wanted to take care of her. She and her brother lived in The Burlington Hotel, which had been converted from a hotel into apartments and overlooked the river, big bridge, and railroads that slowly began to gray a little every year before our eyes. About this time, I moved to California so my visits became less, but going back was no longer the whimsical trip to Grandma's house that I remember as a child. Instead of the silly arguments and kites, turned into conversations about the horrors of the world, natural disasters, people dying, and sins.
It was said at my Grandma's funeral that she couldn't watch the news because it would worry her too much. She was luckily on her death bed during the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. It was also said at her funeral that she was accepting of other people, which is difficult to remember from the last 10 years. I remember only she and her brother not understanding those with a different lifestyle: those who are divorced, homosexual, in jail (like those are all the same "sin"). Living in California, I found those conversations difficult because I was learning to accept those who lived differently than I do, and also to embrace differences. I usually kept/keep my mouth shut. (Imagine that!)
While traveling to the funeral from Des Moines to Burlington this weekend, we stopped for a bite of breakfast at McDonalds in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. (Of course! So much for "no cheese.") As we ate, we couldn't help but overhear conversations of the little old people that sat in the restaurant at different tables with their watered-down coffee, looking out the window onto the brown fields, and complaining about traffic in the major cities. "I would never want to live in a place like Chicago, or Kansas City . . . and in California, they have those lanes that you can't drive in!"
My sister and I laughed a little, but it was also pretty depressing. I almost wanted to yell back like, "Oh you wouldn't want to live in those horrible places where people actually have things to DO besides sit around a McDonalds all morning!"
Driving into Burlington was equally as distressing, including those gray buildings, boarded up shops, half-fallen homes, and people without smiles on their faces. It was so good to see family again, and relearn those names, and hear wonderful things about my Gram again. It made me feel like I wasn't dreaming those first 20 years, but it also made me wonder where it all went. While I was busy building my happy life in California, my Gram was just letting hers go in a dilapidated town in Iowa.
I told my parents they should continue to find something new in their lives. They are looking at property in Arizona, which would be exciting for them and bring them a little closer to me! The experience back in Iowa definitely reminded me that life is too short for complaints. Life is really what you make of it - if you are unhappy and try to find faults in others, then you only confirm unhappiness and faults within yourself. It's time to find something new in my life and stay excited about the process. No complaints!
Before my grandpa passed in 1988, my family and I would travel to Burlington, Iowa from Illinois in one of those classic family driving memories with my parents, older sister and brother:
"Mom! Scott took my bear and won't give it back."
"Dad, are we THERE yet?"
The beginning of the movie musical, The Music Man, the train passes from Illinois into Iowa, and they never go over a bridge - this part has always bothered me.
The last part of our journey was the "big" bridge (I had not yet see the Bay or Golden Gate Bridge) over the Mississippi into Burlington which was a beautiful river city with large red brick warehouses, the prominent Burlington Hotel, and the former hospital which overlooks the roadway from a tall bluff. We'd drive a few streets into the residential neighborhoods and on to Bertsch Street to a small, neat, white house with a front porch. Before we even pulled in we could smell Grams roast beef simmering in the oven, and wonder if Grandpa would take us to the park to fly a kite or play a tune on his organ.
My grandparents acted to be tremendously in love, and their silly little arguments would often turn into flirting. Gram was a homemaker, and Grandpa was a retired clerk for the railroad. They were surrounded by other family members in town, mostly Grams 10 brothers and sisters, their children, and grandchildren. Every year I learned names at our summer family reunions, only to forget their names again the next year. My grandparents kind of seemed like the matriarchs of the family - perhaps to me, at least.
My Grandpa's funeral was the first I'd ever attended - I was almost 9 years old. He was my favorite guy. He had the most beautiful dark hair that I liked to comb, he always had a bowl of peanuts on the front porch and would feed the chipmunks living under the porch. (The chipmunks loved him too. After he was gone, they also went away.) Most of all, Grandpa was a musician. He played an organ, and composed songs, mostly religious, but he also had fun songs about Santa Claus and funny things that kids do. Gram was never quite the same after Grandpa was gone. Her house was still impeccable, and she still made her roast beef, but there was always this odd chair missing at the dinner table. Luckily she had sisters, brothers, and University of Iowa football.
During the last 10 years, her health started failing, as well as her ambition to live. She sold the little white house, and moved in with her brother who wanted to take care of her. She and her brother lived in The Burlington Hotel, which had been converted from a hotel into apartments and overlooked the river, big bridge, and railroads that slowly began to gray a little every year before our eyes. About this time, I moved to California so my visits became less, but going back was no longer the whimsical trip to Grandma's house that I remember as a child. Instead of the silly arguments and kites, turned into conversations about the horrors of the world, natural disasters, people dying, and sins.
It was said at my Grandma's funeral that she couldn't watch the news because it would worry her too much. She was luckily on her death bed during the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. It was also said at her funeral that she was accepting of other people, which is difficult to remember from the last 10 years. I remember only she and her brother not understanding those with a different lifestyle: those who are divorced, homosexual, in jail (like those are all the same "sin"). Living in California, I found those conversations difficult because I was learning to accept those who lived differently than I do, and also to embrace differences. I usually kept/keep my mouth shut. (Imagine that!)
While traveling to the funeral from Des Moines to Burlington this weekend, we stopped for a bite of breakfast at McDonalds in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. (Of course! So much for "no cheese.") As we ate, we couldn't help but overhear conversations of the little old people that sat in the restaurant at different tables with their watered-down coffee, looking out the window onto the brown fields, and complaining about traffic in the major cities. "I would never want to live in a place like Chicago, or Kansas City . . . and in California, they have those lanes that you can't drive in!"
My sister and I laughed a little, but it was also pretty depressing. I almost wanted to yell back like, "Oh you wouldn't want to live in those horrible places where people actually have things to DO besides sit around a McDonalds all morning!"
Driving into Burlington was equally as distressing, including those gray buildings, boarded up shops, half-fallen homes, and people without smiles on their faces. It was so good to see family again, and relearn those names, and hear wonderful things about my Gram again. It made me feel like I wasn't dreaming those first 20 years, but it also made me wonder where it all went. While I was busy building my happy life in California, my Gram was just letting hers go in a dilapidated town in Iowa.
I told my parents they should continue to find something new in their lives. They are looking at property in Arizona, which would be exciting for them and bring them a little closer to me! The experience back in Iowa definitely reminded me that life is too short for complaints. Life is really what you make of it - if you are unhappy and try to find faults in others, then you only confirm unhappiness and faults within yourself. It's time to find something new in my life and stay excited about the process. No complaints!
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Pssssst. . . I cut the cheese!
Pun intended.
Day 1: I had to leave my microwavable, ricotta and spinach-stuffed tortellini in the fridge and find another option.
Day 2: I didn't have time to go out for lunch, so I ate the tortellini anyway.
Day 3: No cheese. Pretty easy.
Day 4: Went on a double date at our favorite Italian restaurant in Los Gatos. Although I ordered the fettuccine with marinara and two meat balls -my dinner came with Parmesan cheese sprinkled on the top. I decided to just go with it because the cheese was clearly a "garnish" and not a substantial part of the meal. Right? I passed on the baked brie appetizer, and I also had a side of spinach to start the meal.)
Day 5: After a 4-miler in Sausalito, I went to my boyfriend's family's house for a St. Patrick's Day dinner. I passed up the cheese tray, again. Yay!
Day 6: I had the "Fitness Breakfast" at Bill's Cafe, and asked for egg yolks because I'm not giving up eggs too!
Day 7: No problem.
Today: I had a salad for lunch, and asked for feta on the side. I used half of it. Not bad.
The important part of no-cheese is really just to keep it "low"-cheese. It is nearly impossible to never eat cheese, ever. It comes on EVERYTHING, and it is already assumed by the dining establishment that you want it. Because really. . . who doesn't want some delicious saturated fat on their cheeseburger, or a grilled cheese...maybe some Parmesan on your pasta, or Gouda on your sandwich, or cream cheese on your bagel, or American on a Saltine, or some cheddar on your burrito! What a life that must be for those who are lactose intolerant! The horror! The horror!
By the way, if I don't see visual body improvements in the next two weeks, I'm going to go back to eating an entire Tillamook baby loaf in one sitting.
Day 1: I had to leave my microwavable, ricotta and spinach-stuffed tortellini in the fridge and find another option.
Day 2: I didn't have time to go out for lunch, so I ate the tortellini anyway.
Day 3: No cheese. Pretty easy.
Day 4: Went on a double date at our favorite Italian restaurant in Los Gatos. Although I ordered the fettuccine with marinara and two meat balls -my dinner came with Parmesan cheese sprinkled on the top. I decided to just go with it because the cheese was clearly a "garnish" and not a substantial part of the meal. Right? I passed on the baked brie appetizer, and I also had a side of spinach to start the meal.)
Day 5: After a 4-miler in Sausalito, I went to my boyfriend's family's house for a St. Patrick's Day dinner. I passed up the cheese tray, again. Yay!
Day 6: I had the "Fitness Breakfast" at Bill's Cafe, and asked for egg yolks because I'm not giving up eggs too!
Day 7: No problem.
Today: I had a salad for lunch, and asked for feta on the side. I used half of it. Not bad.
The important part of no-cheese is really just to keep it "low"-cheese. It is nearly impossible to never eat cheese, ever. It comes on EVERYTHING, and it is already assumed by the dining establishment that you want it. Because really. . . who doesn't want some delicious saturated fat on their cheeseburger, or a grilled cheese...maybe some Parmesan on your pasta, or Gouda on your sandwich, or cream cheese on your bagel, or American on a Saltine, or some cheddar on your burrito! What a life that must be for those who are lactose intolerant! The horror! The horror!
By the way, if I don't see visual body improvements in the next two weeks, I'm going to go back to eating an entire Tillamook baby loaf in one sitting.
Tuesday, March 08, 2011
...whereby our heronie gives up cheese. . .
If A = B. (Saturated fat makes you fat)
And C = A. (Cheese is made up of saturated fat.)
Does A = B? (Cheese makes you fat.)
We are going to use the transitive property, and find out.
Today I had to give away my teeny-tiny lunch portion of tortellini because it had ricotta cheese in it. I suppose it would have helped if I packed my lunch AFTER I decided to try a no-cheese diet for a few weeks. Experimenting with vegetables isn't going to be enough - adding good stuff to bad stuff does not delete the bad stuff. It's time to get rid of something bad. I mean good....oh, so good and tasty.
Mmmmmm. . . cheese.
And C = A. (Cheese is made up of saturated fat.)
Does A = B? (Cheese makes you fat.)
We are going to use the transitive property, and find out.
Today I had to give away my teeny-tiny lunch portion of tortellini because it had ricotta cheese in it. I suppose it would have helped if I packed my lunch AFTER I decided to try a no-cheese diet for a few weeks. Experimenting with vegetables isn't going to be enough - adding good stuff to bad stuff does not delete the bad stuff. It's time to get rid of something bad. I mean good....oh, so good and tasty.
Mmmmmm. . . cheese.
Monday, March 07, 2011
EVUIP
3 weeks of personal training
134 pounds
22.2% body fat
increased overall health
I've gained weight, and body fat. Not so awesome.
After meeting with Kolleen again today, it occurred to me that the only way to lose weight an body fat is to do something about my diet. Everyone told me. I listened, but I didn't do it. Although my overall health is better, my goal was also to lose a little weight and body fat. Good isn't my best, and I need to do more.
The suggestion for better eating: "Start meals with vegetables, and fill up on them before eating what you like to eat." I'm going to try this. I don't know if it's going to work because I feel like I'll eat the veggies, then eat the entire portion anyway.
For the next couple of weeks it's: Eat Veggies Until I Puke. EVUIP.... er, not such a good acronym.
134 pounds
22.2% body fat
increased overall health
I've gained weight, and body fat. Not so awesome.
After meeting with Kolleen again today, it occurred to me that the only way to lose weight an body fat is to do something about my diet. Everyone told me. I listened, but I didn't do it. Although my overall health is better, my goal was also to lose a little weight and body fat. Good isn't my best, and I need to do more.
The suggestion for better eating: "Start meals with vegetables, and fill up on them before eating what you like to eat." I'm going to try this. I don't know if it's going to work because I feel like I'll eat the veggies, then eat the entire portion anyway.
For the next couple of weeks it's: Eat Veggies Until I Puke. EVUIP.... er, not such a good acronym.
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