FIREd up! and Back at the Gym

So they haven't fired me... yet. Just to stay on the safe side I stayed an extra two and half hours at work today. Clearly the sleep deprivation has affected my critical thinking skills because I promptly drove myself straight into bumper to bumper traffic. I quickly realized that dance class with Yves was out. I spent the next 40 minutes and 8 miles trying to convince myself I would be okay if I drove straight home. Then I started searching for classes on MYEQ. I'm waiting for the day when I get pulled over for texting and I say, "Oh no Officer. I wasn't communicating with anyone. I was just looking up group fitness classes that I would be able to attend based on the estimated time of arrival as determined by my GPS." Hopefully it's not a lady cop. They don't tend to like me.

I saw that Assia Winfield would be teaching something called FIREd up! (Sculpt) at the Great Neck Equinox at 7pm. I used to take a lot of classes with Assia when I first joined Equinox (her current scheduling doesn't really work for my routine), and I knew that I would get a great workout, so I got off at Little Neck Parkway and got mentally prepared for 60 minutes in spandex.

FIREd up! required a step on three raisers, a body bar, and 3lbs, 5lbs, and 8lbs weights. The class is a full-body workout and aims to burn 600 calories in the hour. I love Assia's focus on form. The woman also loves abdominal muscles and she makes sure that you are aware of yours. She kept telling me to suck mine in. I was sucking. Oops. We worked on our obliques. We also did a lot of lower body work, incorporating weights and balance. My arms are completely out of shape so I don't have much to say about the upper body moves. I even got to show off my plyo moves. We had to jump in the air and kick our butts. For some reason I can really vault myself up there, which makes me feel special and gets everyone else's attention.

I managed to eat clean all day today. I think it's easier when I'm constantly working. I didn't want to leave my readers without a post, so I'm actually furiously typing while shoveling dinner into my mouth. Tonight I'm enjoying one of my absolute favorites, bruschetta-style salmon and mashed sweet potatoes. God bless Whole Foods and my mother who shops there.

Free Tanning Sundays

So this little gem of marketing genius is actually a misnomer - tanning isn't free on Sundays at Beach Bum, but it is certainly much less expensive. If you have a package, you can buy a lotion packet for as little as $5 and get a "free" tanning session. And this only applies after 4pm, but since they are open until midnight (or later), you really do have a large window of opportunity to take advantage of this deal.

Today I drove Petunia the PT Cruiser back over to Greenvale to spend ten glorious minutes in the KBL America. To read my review of this prime example of tanning technology, click here. Despite the criticism indoor tanning receives, I do it because it makes me feel better. Although I have been anxious and depressed about the crapshoot I managed to get myself into recently, I left feeling optimistic that I could handle everything that is on my plate. My teeth are also significantly whiter, which just puts a smile on my face. And one session in the KBL America goes for $29, so a session and a lotion packet for $5 really is a steal.

It's Going to Be a Long Road Back

I got out of bed today. That's a plus.

I set my alarm for 6:15 this morning and finished this Nelson DeMille book I've been reading so I wouldn't have any excuses about going to the gym or doing work later. I finally got out of bed around 7:45 and went to scrounge around for workout clothes. I don't fit into any of my cute outfits and settled on a pair of black pants and a TFA t-shirt. I did not color coordinate. I am sad.

I ran 7 miles on the treadmill in the subterranean workout area at the Roslyn Equinox. I'm embarrassed for my fellow fitness enthusiasts to see me, which is why I exiled myself to this depressing little space. I'm not sure why I'm willing to advertise my overweight, sluggish status on the Internet but I am unable to attend a group fitness class, but I guess it might have something to do with the visuals.

Running on the treadmill sucks. It's boring and every mile seems to take forever. My feet also hurt a lot more quickly when I run on the treadmill than when I run outside on the pavement. I forced myself to wear my heart rate monitor (I had to expand the strap!) and at least I burned 830 calories for my effort.

I strictly measured out my breakfast using my food scale, because I need to structure my eating. Actually, I need to structure my entire life at this point. Now I'm trying to mentally wrap my mind around the fact that today is Sunday. Eff.

The Video is Here

If you want to see what all the hype is about click www.yvesmaco.com and watch the new video.

I'm in the turquoise sports bra and the grey shorts.  Yves has another master class this Sunday in Lawrence.  The details are on the site.


Yves Maco from Will Salomon Orellana on Vimeo.

Seasonal Affective Disorder: Or why I go tanning when I'm SAD

I don't handle winter well, particularly not the month of February. This year it seems to be starting early and I can only blame it on my lack of artificial UV rays. Damn you $5 Manhattan location surcharge! I think I suffer from seasonal depression. Actually, who are we kidding? I've been depressed since the 7th grade. There's a reason this blog is called In Shape, OUT of Mind, and it has to do with the fact that I'm not all there. It's alright. For some reason, people find me lovable anyway.

Despite prescriptions for Zoloft, Paxil, Lexapro, Prozac, and God knows what else, the only thing that has managed to get me out of my funk is a combination of Ritalin, intense and borderline violent cardio, and artificial sunlight. I understand that these medications have done wonders for many people, and please do not alter your own medications without speaking with your doctor. I just never responded to them and if they came with a negative side effect, I was the patient who had them. By the way, Prozac guarantees a minimum 5 lb weight gain... Note to all you med students on your psych rotations: NEVER tell this to patients in an eating disorder recovery group. You will quickly find yourself at the center of a riot where all personnel who could save you are hesitant to intervene because they fear lawsuits regarding their involvement in damaging fragile, nutrient-starved bones. Owners of these fragile bones are especially mean because they are extremely hungry, and they will show you no mercy. God, I wish there had been cell phone video cameras in 2004.

Back to the point of this post... I have tried to stop my aggressive tanning because orange is not an acceptable skin color outside of certain neighborhoods on Long Island, in Westchester, and in New Jersey. For some reason, only select groups of people find this attractive. But now I'm thinking that orange skin trumps the winter blues.

Nike+ GPS and Runs with Friends

On Saturday I peaked my head out from under the covers, established my whereabouts, and remembered I had promised to run 10 miles in Central Park. I'll admit I didn't particularly feel like getting bundled up to run in the frigid tundra we're calling New York City these days, and the idea sounded a whole lot better after a happy hour of Guinness and Scotch, and a whole lot worse after the wine and rum. But my competitive nature was challenged, and soon I found myself in my performance gear and ugly green hat on my way over to 72nd and 5th.

My first order of business was to convince my running partners that we wanted to run a 10K and not 10 miles. Mission accomplished. My second order of business was testing out the new Nike+ GPS. I don't like to run with my headphones when I run with other people. So that we could all enjoy the excitement of new technology, I turned up the volume on my iPhone 4OS and put it in my high-tech fanny pack. This nifty app alerted us to every completed mile and our current pace. We managed to keep our pace around 9:30 miles, which  is pretty impressive for three mildly hungover individuals exercising on a freezing Saturday morning.

I'm actually being generous... I could've run faster, but I wasn't there to train, I was there for the company. Sometimes the activity is more important than the outcome. This is how we ended up at Melon's later for bacon cheeseburgers, cottage fries, bloodies, and pie. We used this time to analyze our run results. The GPS function tracked our run, our pace, and identified where we slowed down and where we sped up. I highly recommend this app if you are training for a race or looking for new routes in your area.

Kids Say the Darndest Things

This afternoon, as I was giving my once-a-week Friday goodbye hugs, one of the students I love the most comments that my belly is nice and soft, like a pillow, like his mommy's. His mommy had a baby last month. Since he believed this to be a wonderful compliment, I smiled and thanked him for the lovely comparison. Then I sucked in my gut and swore off booze, cheese, and bread products of any kind. Children are like court jesters - little people with big mouths who get away with calling out the person in charge.

You Cannot Get Your Cardio in Bed - Although You Can Try

Happy people really are fat, and try as you might, you cannot get your cardio in bed. After days of eating Chinese food, Buffalo wings, French fries, and fried chicken chased with beer, Scotch, Swamp Water, and Slurpees, I can barely button my dress pants and my arms are jiggling. Thankfully yesterday put me in an awful mood and I got my fat, no longer happy ass to the gym.

I had made plans to join my high school roommate and a long-lost friend from sophomore year for dinner at Penelope's in Murray Hill. In order to fit in a workout before dinner, I returned to my old Equinox location at 33rd and Park. The minute I walked in I remembered why I never went when I lived down there - the place is awkwardly designed, there are way too many people milling about doing nothing, and there tend to be events held in the narrow path between the gym floor and the locker rooms. (Yesterday's was a pizza party. Yes really. A pizza party. That's exactly what I want to smell after I've sweat my ass off for over an hour. I was tempted to throw up on the table, but that seemed a bit excessive just to prove my point.)

My baditude was really on a roll, and I was scowling left and right. Then, the cosmic gym gods decided to spite me because I finally found a Yves-less Cardio Kickbox class worth my time. Akin Williams teaches this 45-minute class and I really liked his style. There were even hinge kicks! The majority of the people there were rather lame and I'd appreciate some volunteers to attend with me and kick the energy level up. I don't expect everyone to add extra plyo moves, but I have little respect for people who walk out of classes as dry as when they walked in. Akin had this extra special abs move at the end, combining down/down/up/up planks with push-ups and plank jacks. I am imagining that this is why my midsection hurts and not because the very non-elastic waistband of these trousers is cutting off the blood supply to my lower half.

Holidays, Birthdays, Wednesdays, and Any Other Excuse to Eat Cake

I meant to post this before the holiday break.

It's that magical time of year again when God tells us to eat sugar cookies. I really like the ones with the sprinkles that look like crystals imbedded in an inch of vanilla frosting. Even better if they're cut into shapes of reindeer, snowmen, and Christmas trees. I ate a tasty menorah once too, but let's be honest, no way was that thing parve.

What are you supposed to do when you are socially obligated to indulge? Weight-loss gurus such as Dr. Stephen Gullo (author of The Thin Commandments) and Jillian Michaels (Biggest Loser trainer, author, the voice of my conscience) recommend including your friends, family, and coworkers in your quest for health and thinness. Try telling a nine-year-old that you're not eating a piece of his birthday cake because thin just tastes better. In his mind not eating the cake translates to "I hate you and you're failing the next math test because I said so."

I try to plan everything else I eat around the bad choices I have to make. That way I don't blow my whole day... or week.

Fists of Energy!

I got to attend my favorite spin class this morning with Craig. I love Craig. I love his class. I love his class's music. It's the best ever. It better be considering it requires signing up 26 hours in advance, which means 6:30am on Saturday morning.

I booked bike #23 because it is my favorite but when I got to Equinox this morning I found that someone had removed the straps from the shoe cage. I hate people. Thankfully I arrived early enough to run downstairs and switch to bike #1. Bike #1 is located right next to the instructor and directly in front of the mirror. How I let this prime piece of real estate go unnoticed is beyond me, but for 60 minutes I got to sit next to Craig and stare at myself. I also had a good line of vision to check out my glutes, I mean form, in the wall mirror to the left. My dad's in real estate as he always says it's all about location, location, location. From now on bike #1 is my favorite bike.

I love Craig's class for many reasons, but one thing I particularly like is how I learn something new each time I go. Today Craig encouraged us to try cycling for ten seconds at a time without our hands. You're probably rolling your eyes because you're thinking, "How hard can it be to ride a stationary bike with no hands?" It's pretty hard when you're out of the saddle, out in 3, with your hands hovering above the handlebars. This exercise forced me to really engage my core in order to stay upright.


As I've mentioned before, my absolute favorite part of class is the 3 minute sprint home at the end. Then we cool down and stretch on the bike. I really enjoy the fists of energy at the end. As I reread this, I realize that fists of energy sounds pretty dirty, but I like it because I never remember to stretch out my hands.

Extra Special Workout

NOTHING prevents me from attending Yves Maco's master classes, especially not a throat issue that sent me to the Emergency Room. I set my alarm for 6:30am to book Craig's Sunday morning spin class, woke up, groped around my bed for my iPhone and booked bike #23 (my favorite) using the MYEQ app. Then I spent the next hour and twenty-five minutes pretending to sleep while I really planned my future kickboxing-themed wedding (I watched Say Yes to the Dress and Four Weddings with my TLC obsessed mother and sister last night. What can I say?)

Today's extra special workout was 70 minutes of kickboxing followed by 70 minutes of Dance Fusion. This was the same combo found at Sweat the Turkey Out! but today was called Jump Start Your 2011 with Yves Maco! It's the best thing I've done in 2011 so far and if you remember, I've spent the past six days high on painkillers eating dessert and watching tv in bed. My 2011 has been awesome.

Yves arranged for a videographer to come to today's classes to add some footage to Yves' new website www.yvesmaco.com. I felt like I was under a lot of pressure to perform with a camera in the room. To be honest, I needed this kick in the ass. I didn't realize how much I slack off when I'm not afraid of being caught.

This is how my family found me after Yves' classes. In my defense, the marble is nice and cool after a long workout. Funny how the first word in workout is work. Workouts should be hard.

I'd also like you to take a moment and notice my incredible color-coordination. My lululemon outfit was an easy combination but the shoes even match the drawstring on the shorts and my socks match my shoes. Although you can't see them in this shot, my barrettes and hair tie matched too.

Yves extra special classes are held at Fusion Fitness located at 45 Cutter Mill Road in Great Neck.

Chocolate + Banana + Peanut Butter = Delicious

It still really hurts to eat so I made myself a smoothie this morning that was pretty tasty. Throw ice, Walden's Farm Zero Calorie Chocolate Sauce, 1% milk, chocolate whey powder (I'm using Designer Whey these days), a small banana, and a little Jiffy peanut butter into a blender. Viola!

As Seen on TV!

I love infomercials. As Seen on TV is my favorite kiosk at the mall. These devices are often incredible and I proudly own quite a few.

I purchased a Pasta Boat last fall. You just throw your pasta of choice into the container, add the appropriate amount of water as dictated by the cooking guide, and then microwave it! After the pasta is done cooking you attach the strainer lid and strain the water out without losing half of the pasta in the sink.

I received a Ninja Master Prep for Christmas. This blender and food processor extraordinaire pulses ingredients with ease. I can chop, dice, purée, and blend with one device and cleanup is superfast. It can even turn ice into snow!

I made this pasta dish using my Pasta Boat and my Ninja. I cooked whole wheat fusilli. I then put an onion, three garlic cloves, and some chopped walnuts into the Ninja. I took those ingredients and put them into a saucepan. I added olive oil, a little pasta water, and mushrooms. When this became saucelike I added some sugar snap peas to heat them through but keep them crisp. I poured my sauce over my pasta, applied viscous lidocaine to my mouth, and then sat down to enjoy House repeats on my couch.

And I Still Can't Refold a Newspaper

Some people set resolutions each new year and we know how those tend to turn out. I try to set goals that I hope to accomplish by December 31st, and if I don't, I add them to the next year's. Over the years I have resolved to wear my retainers (I now do), floss daily (I feel gross now if I don't), and properly refold a newspaper (still working on that.) I set these goals to improve myself, and I'm all for continuous improvement, but I often forget to simply like myself. I may have done some awful things to people over the years, but I guarantee that I have treated myself much worse.

This year my goal is to always treat myself the way I would treat my best friend. It seems simple and obvious, but I challenge you to do the same. I would never tell my best friend she was fat and lazy and not worthy of love or affection. I would never tell her to get blindingly drunk and to have sex with an emotional stranger. (Just because you spent the past six years partying with a person does not mean that you know him. This is what we call an emotional stranger. You know the basics, you might even know specifics about him or his performance in bed from others, but you have never had an intimate, sober conversation with him.) I wouldn't let a crappy boyfriend make her feel bad about herself or let her sit alone at night regretting decisions she has made. If I wouldn't treat my best friend this way, why do I do this to myself? There is actually no justification for this so in the year 2011, I am going to be the best friend I can be to myself (not that I don't have a really good one already, because I do. She's awesome.)

I've spent a lot of time in bed watching DVR'd episodes of crappy television recently (hooray debilitating throat illnesses!), and my guilty pleasure One Tree Hill had this cheesy line about happiness being an emotion, not a destination. I think we each make the choice to be happy each day, but the way we treat others and ourselves helps us make this decision. I am choosing to treat myself better so that I can choose to be happy each day. Tomorrow I'll work on this newspaper folding business... unless anyone wants to buy me an iPad.

HydroColdstone

Some might say that I tend to overreact. While I've gotten better about this in the past three years, apparently my immune system didn't get the memo. I picked up some kind of virus (and not even from making out with anyone, how lame am I?) and my immune system is freaking out and attacking my throat. My mouth is actually molting. So I'm out of work until Thursday, watching tv in bed. God bless my DVR. It's too painful to eat so I'm living on my vicodin prescription and sorbet. Trevor has been tickled over the idea of painkiller-spiked ice cream for years, which he wants to market as HydroColdstone. He's quite clever, isn't he?