Category: fitness

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Turnip Wagon

I sometimes wonder if I should preface ScrewSkinny with:  “I wrote most of this in the pool.”

I find myself thinking a lot about health, fitness, body image and what have you when I’m swimming.  I used to listen to audiobooks, but I can’t find waterproof earphones that last more than a few months.  My inner Scrooge screams at buying them all that often, and I’ve never found any you didn’t have to futz with a lot to get them to work.  I’m in the pool to swim, not play with electronics.  That’s my other job <grin>.

Speaking of which, my suit really has Gone Where All Good Suits Go, and I need to get off my lazy butt and get a couple of swimsuits.  God, I can’t believe I put this off until early June – the worst time in the world to get value for your buck on a good, chlorine-resistant suit!  Well, I brought that all on myself.  Speedo has nothing in my size on sale right now, dammit.  I’m checking out the Junonia suits and grinding my teeth.  No, I don’t want a swimsuit that’s bloody shorts or a skirt.  I don’t want something with cute folds and drapes to disguise body shape and increase drag.  My body shape is drag enough, thanks so much! Yes, I know.  Women my size who care about such things are not in the majority.  I expect plenty of women my size don’t wanna put on a suit at all.

Been checking out some of the freelance boards and I’m seeing a lot of what I call Turnip Wagon Projects[1].  These are projects where a buyer wants you to submit a “sample article” that’s never appeared in print or on the ‘net before.  This sample article will almost always be as long as and in a similar subject matter to the actual one you’re bidding on.  Yes, the person is trying to get free work out of you.  If they’re looking for a real writer, what they really want are samples of your professional work. You know, stuff you’ve already written and probably sold.  The Turnip Wagon sort?  Sure, there are ways to fix their little red wagons if you’re willing to go to the trouble to do so.  And yeah, calling them on their theft would probably benefit the world.  I just don’t bid on ‘em.  Lazy, I know.  But as Holly Lisle put its, “Writers get paid to write.”  I bid on the ones who don’t seem to want free work.  I tend to have more success that way.

[1] My father’s expression for “I wasn’t born yesterday” is “I didn’t just fall off the turnip wagon, you know.”  I have no idea where he got that.  Probably his mother.  She wasn’t often creative of speech, but could get real pithy on occasion.

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Nothing Tastes as Good as Being Thin Feels

As I’ve mentioned countless times, swimming is an excellent time to ponder.

I was looking forward to a breakfast of fresh-from-the-farm eggs and a nice espresso when the title phrase of this post fluttered through my mind.

Now, I’ve never been thin. I really wouldn’t know. But I’m trying to imagine how it’s gonna feel great.

All my mind can go to is, “Well, it’d be easier to do pullups, and probably with less drag my swim times will improve” and then my mind goes blank.

Being thin won’t feel like anything that I can imagine. I don’t live in front of a mirror, so I won’t have any real, consistent feedback. My body will just feel like my body because I live in it. Whatever you get used to just feels normal. It won’t feel like a constant orgasm of thin. Possibly I’ll get more male attention. I know it sounds weird, but I’m not actually looking forward to that part1.

I used to be a diet counselor. I’ve watched many women lose large amounts of weight. Accomplishing a big goal? Hell yeah, that feels really good — for about twenty minutes. Then you move on to the next thing.

But, I never noticed that their lives necessarily improved from losing weight. They still had issues with their husbands, or had the same sour tempers they started with, or still hated their jobs, or found their children frustrating, or were scared their husbands were having affairs…

Or if they were happy and had positive attitudes (as many did. I don’t want to imply that all my clients were miserable. They weren’t), they were about as cheerful as they always were, laughed about the same amount and there really wasn’t a significant change in their basic attitude.

I know the phrase is supposed to help people focus on their goals. And you know what, “Don’t sacrifice a long-term goal for a momentary distraction” is a good thing to keep in mind.  The thing is: “Being thin will feel good” is a lousy motivation.  It won’t feel like anything. It’ll just be you and your body.  The change is gonna be gradual and it’s just gonna feel normal after awhile.  It’ll be your life and you’ll take it for granted after some small period of time.

1It’s not that I don’t like being flirted with. I do. A LOT. But, that sort of attention becomes less attractive when you’ve seen someone trying to ask a girl for a date when she’s at the squat rack. Free advice to the men that wanna date women who lift: Do not distract a person who is lifting enough weight to cause an injury if it is lifted wrong. You won’t score any points that way. Promise. Wait’ll she’s done. It’ll improve your chances.

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Captain Buzzkill 2000

I’d been oscillating since doing the 50 mile challenge at my gym whether or not to swim 1500 yards or 2000 yards as my workout. My normal swim was 1650. The last two times, I decided to do a 1500.

I woke up grumpy as all hell and feeling down on myself, so I chose to try a challenge and swam 2000.

I’d never done that before. Felt kinda good.

A lady in the gym got on the scales and commented (right beside me), “No way have I gained four pounds in a day!”

I laughed and said, “Don’t sweat it. It’s probably water weight.”

Another woman near us spoke up and said, “She’s working out, it’s probably muscle weight.”

In one day.

You wish.

A hard-training, unsupplemented1, young, genetically-gifted beginner female might put on about half a pound of muscle a week for the first five months or so if she specifically lifts to failure. If you’ve been following my listed workouts you will note this is considerably harder than I train2. I’m also hardly genetically gifted.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, strength training is important. But let’s be accurate with the numbers, ‘kay?

You’re probably not gonna jump four pounds of muscle doing aqua aerobics. Oh, do the aqua aerobics! It’s fantastic exercise, easy on the joints, gets your heart rate up, gives you some strength work. Absolutely. But it ain’t gonna turn you into a monster. It’ll help you be a little more healthy, and that’s great. It’s a wonderfully valid reason for doing it.

I don’t wanna be Captain Buzzkill here. I really do believe in exercise and I’m all for doing what you can. I mean, c’mon, I got my start swimming 400 yards three times a week, and lifting less than the weight of an empty barbell for my workouts. It’s taken me coming on to two years to get where I am. Doing what you can is something to be proud of. You don’t have to make anything up or distort it for it to be worthy and valuable.

If you think pop magazine articles on exercise get under my fingernails, you’re right.

1 A euphemism for “not taking anabolic steroids”.
2At the best I can estimate, I’ve put on about four pounds of muscle in the past eighteen months. In a way, we women are lucky at how little it takes to make wonderful changes.

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My Lunch, Let Me Show You It

This is a picture of a Bento LunchI’ve been doing the No S Diet for a few weeks and wanted something cute for lunch today.

Technically I’m supposed to have three meals a day, and keep portions to whatever will fit on a plate — one plate per meal, no seconds.

You can’t really screw up portion control using a bento, though!

I had onigiri wrapped in nori, tuna salad, apples and carrots. Yummy.

The gym was cool today. There’s this huge bodybuilder type with a friendly face, but otherwise pretty intimidating-looking. He’s a grunter, but I think I’d grunt, too if I were trying to do dumbbell flys with 80 lbs.

When I got in and got started with my deadlifts, he was working with this little old lady (I hate the cliche, but it would have been the first thing that came to mind to anyone who saw her) who had baby blue dumbbells. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t work for the gym. I think he was just helping the woman out to be friendly.

I like seeing stuff like that.

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No Pressure

When I signed up to do the whole 50 mile swim, I didn’t think anything of it.  I swim a specific yardage three times a week without really being too concerned about it.  Habit.

When your name is on a bulletin board and there’s a mileage increment chart where you’ll be getting a marker when you reach a certain number of miles, it puts it into another perspective.

There are people who’ve already swum 10 miles since this started on May 1.  I’m so nuts I actually considered trying to swim a mile every single day.

The thing is, that’s absurd.  My workout routine of swimming three days a week and lifting three days a week works out fine.  I don’t need to add more just because I’m feeling competitive.  I might quit or get discouraged.  Quitting bad.  Working out good.  I only “win” if I keep the workout habit.

Certainly I could choose to make swimming my sole workout.  But I really don’t want to.  I like lifting, want to continue with it and don’t want to devote more time to working out than I already do.  Yes, the option’s there, but I don’t want to.

Not “I can’t” or “I shouldn’t”  or “I have to…”   That’s it’s just a choice with no big moral attachment to it feels really good.

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Busy

I have a bigger contract and a little article to work on today. I really, really enjoy being a writer when I have work! LMAO.

One of the neat things about what I do is that I often have to do research on subject. Basically, my job is learning stuff, then reporting on it. There are days when I feel like the main character in Friday during her Pajaro Sands days1. This is not a bad thing.

The gym was fun today. Workouts were all good, people were just… friendly today. I always like it when people seem to be in a good mood.

There was a new woman doing weights and was doing most of the same exercises I do, but using dumbbells. She looked at me a little funny when I was doing bench presses. I have to chuckle, because she was using almost exactly the same amount of weight I started with back when I started lifting in the summer of ’06. If her goals are to get strong, in a couple of years, she’s gonna look back amazed.

I tried a new exercise, the Vertical Leg Raise. This is hard, friends. I was getting bored with incline situps. It’s not that they’re not a challenge. I was just sick of them. So, I went ahead and did the new exercise, then commented to the woman who’d just come in for the first time today that I finally got up the guts to try that exercise2.  She laughed and said she was surprised I had to get up the guts to do anything.

I told her that for the first year I was lifting, I was using a set of adjustable dumbbells at home, and that at  my weight, I was actually a little scared to step into the room with all the free weights.

‘Course the real answer is that unless you’re goofing off and hogging equipment, you’re probably gonna be plenty welcome in the weight room, no matter what your fitness level or size.

1Though without nearly as much sex, dammit!
2Yeah, there really are times when I have to work up my courage to try stuff.

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What Have I Gotten Myself Into?

My local gym has a 50 Mile Club for swimmers.

After I got out of the pool today, a lifeguard approached me and asked me if I wanted to sign up and do it.

They count in 10 lap (500 yard) increments.  My usual swim is a 1650, but I think I’m gonna bump that up to a 2000…

Stop looking at me like that.    I’m only doing it for the t-shirt.

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The Comparison Trap

One of the fitness writers I really like is reluctant to post her numbers much.  You know, how much weight she’s lifting.  With her position as a fitness educator, it makes a lot of sense.  Either you’d look at them and be too intimidated to want to start lifting, or as an experienced lifter might say, “She ain’t all that.”

I posted my numbers recently to a board where exercise was under discussion and got called a powerlifter, or had people really surprised I could lift that much, or compared themselves and what they could do to what I am doing and feeling discouraged –especially when they find out how much I weigh.

I like the ego boo of “Damn, you’re strong!”  I’ll admit that.  But I’m not by any stretch of the imagination a powerlifter.  Nor should anyone look at my own weights and be discouraged.

The comparison thing can be just gawdawful stupid.  I do it in the gym, myself.  What’s worse, I don’t tend to compare myself to the female lifters, I compare myself to the men.

I was lifting this morning and there was one other person lifting there, too.  This guy really was a powerlifter.  He was working out with 250lbs on the bench press.  I felt apologetic about my pitiful 70 lbs on my own bench.  Dumb?  Of course.

Chances are slim, indeed, that I’ll ever be working out regularly with 250 lbs benching.  Well, okay, let’s rephrase that.  That’s not even a goal for me.   There are women who can bench 200+ and most of them are professional bodybuilders or weightlifters.   (These are the drug-free stats.  There are enhanced women who lift more than twice that).

For ordinary fitness (rather than as a competitive athlete), comparing yourself to anything but your last (recent) workout is absurd.

I had a martial arts instructor once who put it this way, “Don’t worry about whether or not you’re better than the guy next to you.   Worry about whether or not you’re better than yesterday.”

Sensible.

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"Done" is Good

I’m rather unsatisfied with my swim today.

The best thing I can say is that I showed up and swam for 40 minutes. Yes, that counts. I did my workout. I just prefer them to be more inspiring and uplifting than today’s was.

Notice I didn’t say “I swam a mile”. I’ll be damned if I know how far I did swim.

I brought a lot of it on myself. You see, I did not get my lazy, procrastinating, slacker ass out of the house until an hour after I usually hit the pool. The pool has become increasingly more crowded in recent weeks. I suppose as swimsuit season is approaching, people are wanting to get in swimmin’ shape. Their prerogative and they paid to be there. I can’t really complain about it[1].

So, I walked to the gym – in the rain, I might add. Then here we are with a crowded pool. I waited until there was a lane with only one person in it so that I would not have to circle swim. I find that difficult and distracting in a workout, so I try to avoid it[2]. Well, that little gambit didn’t work. I did have to circle swim for awhile anyway. I lost count of my laps, though I knew what time I got in the pool, so I decided to go comfortably hard for 40 minutes and call it good. I had a lot on my mind I needed to chew on, anyway, so the time was good for that.

Then I get out of the pool, shower off and leave the gym to see that it’s raining much harder. So I walk home in the rain, dammit.

I’m cranky about not feeling great and accomplished after the workout mostly because feeling good is my major motivator. Can I feel good about the fact I sucked it up and did something anyway? Of course.

But I like the feelings of euphoria a lot better. It’s just a fact of working out that I’m not going to get that feeling every time.

[1] Although I admit to contemplating writing an article about how terrible swimming is and how rotten it is for you. You know, in the hopes it would drive people out of the pool.

[2] As long as the alternative is not missing a swim, mind!

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Motivation

This is gonna talk about body, weight and weight loss issues. Stop reading now if that stuff offends you.

I’m thinking about this because I’m feeling unmotivated to go to the gym. One day, more or less, really doesn’t make a big difference in health or fitness or weight loss. I’m going to do it anyway because I’m interested in keeping my habits strong. It may be a real slacker workout. Who knows. But it’ll be a workout, by damn.

I’m in a funny place body-wise right now. While I am, indeed, trying to take off some excess adipose tissue, I don’t look in the mirror and hate what I see. I look fine. I’m using the clinical term because it’s not too terribly emotionally charged.

I don’t look at my eating habits with any disgust. I’ve switched to doing No S and ya know, it’s a nice, sustainable and sane way to eat. It contains excess, is non-invasive, and I can have treats on weekends if I want them. I’ve been losing about a pound a week, which is about as fast as I care to do so. (Much faster and you’re risking losing muscle. I run my thumb over the calluses on my palms and shudder that the work might be wasted. No thanks).

So where is the funny coming from?

Well, I’m writing a book about getting fit without getting too caught up in the weight loss aspects. I almost feel like I shouldn’t lose weight because of the book. On the one hand, I’m saying, “Look, you can get fit without being focused on getting skinny/thin/whatever.” and on the other? Well, while I’m changing my eating patterns about as moderately as is humanly possible, that change is causing a loss of adipose tissue, and that’s kind of why I chose to do it.

Am I thinking about getting thin when I’m working out? Not at all. If I’m in the weight room, I’m thinking about form. I’m doing the arithmetic twice to make sure I’m lifting the correct amount of weight for my workout. If I’m walking, I’m probably listening to music and thinking about what I’m going to be writing next. In the pool, I’m probably also mentally composing something I’ll be writing — a Misanthrope article, making notes about how the workout is making me feel to talk about motivation to get fit, working out a scene in Stoneflower.

Does, “This will help you lose weight” get me into the gym? No. Not even a little. I have a fair idea of the calories burned by my workouts and they’re not high enough to be a great immediate motivator. (Exercise is important, but it’s not the big calorie burner people think it is). I’m actually feeling unmotivated today. I’m visualizing how much I liked the feeling of accomplishment after a great set of bench presses. I’m running my thumb over the calluses in my hands with a certain measure of pride. I’m thinking about how cool it feels to have Dream Theater’s “Learning to Live” playing on my iPod while I’m doing squats, and the anticipatory rush I feel as I hear the keyboard intro, flip my ponytail over the bar and load the iron on my shoulders. (I have a “weights” playlist and for some reason my iPod will trip to “Learning to Live” when I start my squat set about 80% of the time).

If I feel unmotivated to swim, I visualize the moments where it felt good. I imagine being an Orca, moving sleekly through the water. I think about how I love the blue of the water and the way the light plays off the ripples when I’m doing breaststroke. I think about how the water feels moving past my body. I visualize the stroke technique and the way the stretch and reach feels good when I get the crawl correct. I think about the sense of accomplishment I feel when I haul my exhausted butt out of the water after completing a mile. I think about sensation of my hair coming down with a hot slap on my back when I pull off my cap — and the feeling of pride at how hard I had to work out for my hair to be hot in the cool water.

That is what motivates me on a daily basis, even if I have other long-term effects. The scale? It’s a number. Body shape? I only spend about a few minutes a day in front of a mirror. Doing? Ahhhh, that does feel good.