Make New Friends

175 lbs. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

First of all: People of Los Angeles:  (from Wikipedia) Compact car: “A compact car (North America), or small family car (Europe), is a classification of cars which are larger than a supermini but smaller than or equal to a mid-size car. “

What this means is that your friggin’ Jeep Grand Cherokee, Ford F150 pickup truck, Land Rover, Hummer, Escalade or other Suburban Assault Vehicles DO NOT BELONG IN THE COMPACT PARKING SPACES. Do it again and I’ll make you eligible for the handicapped spots, I swear to God.  That and all the unnecessary backing into spaces (and you guys SUCK at it) directly under signs that say “HEAD IN PARKING ONLY.” You know, Guys, if you’re going to ignore all the rules you just don’t feel like obeying, change your last name to Gingrich and get a handout from Sheldon Adelson.

My one and only New Year’s Resolution (that I will cop to. Any others are none of your damn business) is to master the push-up. Since April 2011, I have been in the gym 5-6 per week doing resistance training 3 times a week, yoga twice a week and Pilates once a week; cardio at least 4 times a week (if I get my work done before I head to yoga, I can get in additional cardio after yoga, but that’s rare). While there has been improvement in upper body strength, the only push-up I can rock is a bra. It’s frustrating to me: I’m working very hard at this and not making discernible progress.

This is the year I master push-ups.  Dammit. I am doing this.

Searching for something else on the Internet (No, not porn. Company computer and I can write better crap than you’ll see out there), I came across a great website called Nerd Fitness (www.nerdfitness.com) and there is an article on there explaining how to do a push-up: http://nerdfitness.com/blog/2011/02/15/proper-push-up/

As I have learned with the Plank in yoga, it’s a full-body clench. This isn’t just about the arms and the chest, my friend, oh no. Your gut and your tush are part of the action. And the elbows don’t go flying out to the sides, you keep them tight to the body and you don’t screw up the rotator cuffs ( which would shorten your major league pitching career, unless you get traded to the Red Sox, in which case you’ll be Number 1 or Number 2 in the rotation. Josh Beckett has a bucket of chicken with your name on it. I’m still a bit disgruntled with my boys and their 2011 behavior).  Even tightening every muscle in the body, though, still not successful, even down on knee or butt in the air. But I am going to get this done.

The Nerd Fitness website tells me that if I can’t do a push-up on the ground, then I can start with the wall. Start arm’s length from the wall (as if you were in the top of a push-up on the ground), clench everything and lower yourself (well, whatever verb you’d use to describe move your body to the wall). Sounds easy, but you feel it after 3 sets of 15 repetitions. The site also recommends doing pushups every other day.

Given the way I felt afterwards, I’ll be obeying that advice.

I’m also trying to find ways to make friends with kale. It is supposed to lower cholesterol, antii-oxidant,, reduce cancer risk, body detox, anti-inflammatory; in short, it’s a good friend to have.

 It’s a leafy green vegetable and since leafy green vegetables really don’t have many real friends (unless there’s bacon in some form making the introduction), you’d think kale would welcome my advances.

It doesn’t.

I’ve tried it raw and ended up chewing for hours (this is why I don’t eat collard greens. Way too chewy). I tried sautéing it; the stubborn stuff refused to soften. Yesterday, I got kale chips (you heard me) in Tarragon Dijon flavor.  They also had chocolate flavor. No, I’m not kidding. And Cheesy Chipotle. Such versatility made me suspicious, sort of like my mother telling me that although her salmon loaf was made of fish, it tasted just like meatloaf. It didn’t and I threw it up about 90 minutes later.

Anyway, the Tarragon Dijon kale chips confirmed: 1) Nope. Tarragon really isn’t one of my favorites  and 2) Dijon ain’t one of my big favorites, either.

I still haven’t given up on kale. On a “No Reservations” I saw the other day, Anthony Bourdain was happily chowing down on Portuguese (Azores, technically) kale soup with the elements looked okay (kale, sausage, potatoes,  garlic). I will be giving that a shot very soon.  And you can’t get a better source for a classic of Fall River then Emeril Lagasse: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/emeril-lagasse/portuguese-green-soup-caldo-verde-recipe/index.html . I’ve seen chicken chorizo, so this will work.

I’ll make friends with that green menace yet, so help me.

The Part of the 179 lbs Woman Will Be Played by A 181 lb. Woman Today

181.4 lbs. No explosion. I think I know where I went off the rails. Damn you, sodium! Plenty of water down the hatch. Grumble. Grumble.

Two firsts yesterday (3 if you count the Mavs winning the NBA Championship. I want one of those “Cavs for Mavs” T shirts that they have in Cleveland). I tried kale and I walked out of Pilates class. We’ll take these occurences in chronological order.

After putting in my hour of cardio, I changed shoes, grabbed yoga mat and headed for Pilates class, anticipating the usual teacher. She wasn’t there. Instead, we got a substitute with JMPD (Jillian Michaels Personality Disorder). First things first; she headed for the cabinet to strap on the wireless mike (Red Flag) and started up some energetic music (Another red flag). Anus (not her real name) announced that she didn’t conduct traditional Pilates; she teaches something called “Piyo” (bright pink flag) and it was very popular in her home gym (Big whoop). We were told Piyo was very athletic, combining the most challenging elements of Pilates and Yoga (to quote Denis Leary “thus the fucking name.” He was talking about Dunkin Donuts, what so proudly I hail. Best iced coffee on the planet). We were going to sweat and be tired. Lady (and I use the term loosely), I already sweat and get tired in a standard Pilates class. I do not give a rat’s, Mickey’s, Minnie’s or Mighty Mouse’s ass if half the room had just finished up the Body Pump class. I regard these hybrids with the same lack of respect I have for designer dogs (Puggle? Chiweenie? IT’S A FRIGGIN’ MUTT!!!! ESPECIALLY IF IT HAS BEAGLE IN IT OR THE BLEND RESULTS IN A TRULY STUPID NAME!!!!! GO TO THE SHELTER!) and fusion cuisine (Deep fried sushi? Pass). Another regular started rolling her mat. She had just finished the Body Pump class (this is a very fit lady) and we both figured that this wasn’t our bag. This was right after Anus announced that she had subbed our class a couple of weeks before and gotten “very positive reviews” (Yeah, by the sweat junkies. I was out that day: jewelry making class). I reviewed with my feet. Now is not such a good time for me to raise bail because I had punched a PiYo instructor in the face. Of course, I might have been able to get a recommendation on a good one: there are a couple of guys with T shirts from bail bondsmen and probable prison tats. I’m thinking frequent fliers: 5 bonds, no skip, you earn the T shirt.

The other first was just about equal in the success department: kale. I had picked up a bag at Trader Joe’s, having heard good things about it and we all need to eat our dark leafy greens. The bag described the contents as a “wild cabbage” that was suitable for eating in salad or sautéing (instructions on bag). I pulled out a leaf and gave it a nibble. Tasted like cabbage. Okay, I can work with this. I dug out a pot, added a half tablespoon of olive oil and commenced to sautéing (with plenty of garlic. Garlic is our friend, especially when it comes to camouflage. However, some combinations have explosive potential and perhaps should be preceded by a good dose of Beano. Interesting fact: many cabbage dishes contain caraway seeds because caraway lessens the gas generated by cabbage). I dumped some chicken into a dish and awaited the kale’s complete wilting.

Perhaps I should have waited longer. To say the stems were tough is an understatement. It was like trying to bite a redwood. The flavor was changed by the cooking process and the tough, chewy texture was not an enhancement. I’m thinking next time, remove the leaves from the stems. It may work as part of a salad mix or be more palatable as just leaves. Warning: kale seems to have a lot of naturally occurring sodium. Proceed accordingly. I will be examining the recipes for Portuguese kale soup. Sounds like a viable alternative.

Today was weight training and an hour of cardio. The cardio would have been at least 45 minutes on the Rotating Staircase of Death except that my right kneecap said, “Oh, no you don’t, Bitch” while I was on the abductor (outer thigh) machine. My right kneecap does not care for pressure and while I was moving boxes on Saturday, I managed to give it a good, solid head-on whack against. This means stopping still, clenching jaws like a Great White Shark with a mouthful of Robert Shaw and willing myself not to cry. It passes, but this shit hurts. It hurts a lot and is very defensive for a few days afterwards. No stairs, no treadmills. Elliptical, it is (I’m psyching myself up for another shot at the spinning).

A curious thing happened yesterday and today: I got so wrapped up in my music and keeping up with it that I forgot to watch the timer on the machine. Net result was rather than carefully timed 6 minute extra effort burns, I was doing 20 minutes at an accelerated pace. Yeah: one-third of the total workout sustained at a more intense pace without breaks in between intervals.

I used to have a pair of inline skates. And I was afraid of them. Well, afraid of falling off of them (and this was before the doctor who told me I was “too old and too top-heavy” for inline skating). One Sunday, I took them down to the parking lot of a local business that I knew wasn’t open. At first, I was tentative and my skating was choppy and erratic. Then, as I was trying again, my mind started to wander to some pressing issues I needed to resolve. I was so focused on those problems that I wasn’t paying attention to my skating. When I came back to reality (so to speak), I was skating with smooth, strong strokes and maintaining my balance without a problem.

The same thing happened yesterday and today with the elliptical:  I was so focused on something else and rather distracted that I didn’t notice I was working harder than usual and maintaining the harder pace. John Mayer’s cover of “Route 66” (from the “Cars” soundtrack. What’s your point?) and Van Halen (Diamond Dave) had me going and going hard. Torquemada saw me and gave me a thumbs up (she loves to see me suffering).

I’ve got your PiYo right here.