Not-so-dinky drinkies

Which has fewer calories, sweet sparkling champagne or a stiff, tart gin & tonic?

This was the question posed over at FitSugar, and out of 204 votes, only half got it right (did you?)

It turns out, the fizzy stuff will only set you back 85 calories (and about $3 if you buy the stuff I like), whereas the hard alcohol costs twice as much, calorically-speaking - 170 calories. Though the lime wedge will ensure you don't get scurvy.

As the weekend begins and you get dressed up to hit the town (or perhaps are planning a 4th of July blowout, complete with vodka-soaked watermelon), remember that alcohol calories are empty calories. I'll never forget a nutritional sciences professor in college telling us "Drinking alcohol is like drinking liquid fat." Ew. I think she was using a scare tactic designed specifically for University of Wisconsin-Madison students, as we had been ranked the number 1 most binge-drinkingest school that year (or something to that effect) but in a away, she was right: Carbs and protein have four calories per gram, fat has nine calories per gram and alcohol lingers in the middle (but a wee bit closer to the pudge) at seven calories per gram.

So you might as well get something out of it. Try this fabulous White Wine Sangria from Women's Health, which gets a whole bunch of polyphenols and other antioxidants from green apples, pears, oranges, pineapple, plums and watermelon. Mmmm, it is barely noon and I could throw back a pitcher right now.

Remember, pina coladas can hide up to 400 calories and a hot mess of fat in their creamy goodness. Frozen margaritas are up there, too, so if you're going to imbibe, try one on the rocks - you'll look like less of a tourist, too.

Or drink water. As we learned from my last post, we KNOW that's calorie-free!

Enjoy your weekend,
Leslie
xxoox

Is this diet?

Am I the only one who feels like a neurotic dweeb when I order, say, a Diet Coke at a restaurant and, upon taking my first sip, decide it tastes “too good” to be diet…leading me to believe the waitstaff is conspiring to sneak extra calories into my diet in an attempt to thwart my healthy eating and exercise plans and, at the same time, silently daring me to speak up because they know I’ll feel paranoid doing so?

Please say I’m not the only one.

A similar thing happened to me at Cosi yesterday when I was drinking an Americano – they make them sooo good there – and the woman asked me if I’d like any milk? Why, yes! About an inch of steamed skim, please and thankyouverymuch. She brought the buzz-inducing treat to me about three minutes later whereupon I took a sip of what I swear tasted like coffee mixed with delicious, satiny vanilla ice cream. If I knew how to cock one eyebrow up, indicating cartoon-like suspicion, I would have. Instead, I turned around to see if she was watching me (and no, contrary to what it sounds like, I was not smoking pot at the time) and then took another sip. Candy. Whole milk, I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-whole-milk candy in a cup.

Ashamed of my OCD-like tendencies (but obvs not too ashamed…) I walked up to counter and asked Nikki if she had made my Americano with skim milk. “Yes, just like you ordered,” she said in the most innocent of voices. “An inch of steamed skim milk.”

“Well, then, damn, this is the tastiest coffee drink I have ever had!” I said, taking a sip as if I were starring in a Cosi commercial and plastering a giant smile on my face. I skulked back to my seat, totally unconvinced. My palate has been trained over the year to detect skim from whole milk, Sprite from 7-Up, low-fat from fat-free cheese. How could it be failing me? Or was The Man playing tricks?

I drank the thing, trusting in Nikki’s ability to frigging read a milk jug label. But I didn’t enjoy it – with every swallow, I thought “Am I undoing yesterday’s workout?” I’m the kind of girl who shuns salad dressing in favor of balsamic vinegar, but will blow her wad on Warm Apple Crisp; I’ll eat steamed veggies at lunch but oh, Dairy Queen Cookie Dough Blizzard! There are very specific foods (mostly sweets) that I want to spend my “treat” calories on, and coffee is not one of them. I don’t even like coffee! I’m like a binge drinker who consumes alcohol solely for the purpose of getting drunk: I use coffee to stay awake. That’s it.

OK, so now is where you’re all supposed to calm me down and soothe me by saying, “No, Leslie, you’re not THAT crazy. We all do things like this. We send back Coke masquerading as Diet Coke. We wonder about supposedly “baked” fish that seems coated it oil.” Etc.

Right?

PS This reminds me of an article I wrote for Women’s Health last year where I ate at a bunch of restaurants to see how healthy the food really is – at Ruby Tuesdays, my center cut filet with “steamed broccoli” arrived positively glistening with butter. I asked the waitress (who did not know I was a writer on assignment), “Miss, is this broccoli steamed like it says on the menu?” She just looked at me blankly and said, “Oh, did you want it steamed?” Um, ya think?!

Big Girls (You are beautiful)

Who here has rocked out to this new song by Mika called "Big Girls?

Listen here and bop along to the somewhat strange, somewhat kooky lyrics (but admittedly catchy beat):

...
Diet coke and a pizza please
Diet coke I'm on my knees
Screaming 'Big girl you are beautiful'

You take your skinny girl
Feel like I'm gonna die
'Cause a real woman
Needs a real man here's why

You take your girl
And multiply her by four
Now a whole lotta woman
Needs a whole lot more

Get yourself to the Butterfly Lounge
Find yourself a big lady
Big boy come on around
And they'll be calling you baby

No need to fantasize
Since I was in my braces
A watering hole
With the girls around
And curves in all the right places

Big girls you are beautiful
Big girls you are beautiful
Big girls you are beautiful
Big girls you are beautiful

Watching this skinny guy skip around in a red hoodie surrounded by a bunch of women in jewel-toned corsets, I must admit, I was bouncing on my Relax-the-Back ball and planning an iPod download.

Do you love it or hate it?

Would you Burqini?

Imagine this: It’s summer, it’s hot, you want to swim but your religion calls for modesty.

Would you wear this?

It's called the Ahiida® Burqini™ (this is the Slim-Fit design) and it covers the whole body except your face. hands and feet. The woman who created it, along with an entire line of similar swim- and sportswear, is Aheda Zanetti, a 38-year-old Muslim woman and mother of four who remembers growing up (she was raised in Australia) and wanting to participate in sports, but was limited "due to cultural and religious beliefs" (according to her website.)

The Burqini reminds me of a story I read about Bahrain sprinter Ruqaya Al Ghasara, who, in December of 2006, won the 15th Annual Asian Games running in a hijab - a full Muslim headscarf. She won the gold medal in the 200-m run in 23.19 seconds. Note the Nike swoosh boldly emblazoned on her outfit.

So I'm wondering, are these outfits uber-progressive, in that they are promoting the inclusion of certain women in sports and making them feeling comfortable and proud? Yes, I think. At the same time, is it fair to pit one woman, covered head to toes in gear, running a relay against another woman in just a sports bra and tiny shorts? These are people who shave their arm hair off to decrease wind resistance! Then again, Al Ghasara said that her outift enables her to run "even faster." And do such outfits draw undue attention to the very women who desire modesty...if you were on a beach and two people walked by, one in a teeny bikini, and one in a royal blue Burqini, which would you stare at?

I'm so curious to hear your thoughts - I look forward to your comments.

Body image boosters

Feeling a bit bloated? Or living the fab life and want to keep it that way? Check out these great tips for feeling awesome about yourself:

1. Get a head-to-toe grooming session: mani/pedi, bikini wax, hair blow-out. Whatever you need to feel fresh, pretty and brand new!

2. Wear sexy matching bras and undies. Throw away anything de-elasticized and stained and slip on some sassy red thing under your business attire.

3. Go shoe shopping!

4. Sign up for a 5K or 5-mile race with a friend. You’re setting a goal and working together to achieve it.

5. Take a yoga class in a studio with no mirrors, so you can concentrate on how powerful your body feels, rather than obsessing over your figure “flaws.”

6. Think about all your body is capable. Recently gave birth? You made a baby! On steroids for asthma or another illness? You’re fighting a disease! Turn a negative into a positive.

7. Wear clothes that FIT. Fuggedabout the size. If you force yourself to go too small, you’ll feel uncomfortable and spend the whole day thinking “my stomach is muffin-topping over my waistband.” If you go to big you’ll look schlumpy. Get a pair of pants that hug in all the right places and work it!

8. Accept compliments with a smile :-) We all too often reflect positive comments – relish in them and feel good about yourself. Because you are gorgeous inside and out and nothing a scale says will change that.

Adapted from the July 2007 issue of Redbook Magazine.

You go, girls!

I finally started volunteering again and I am psyched – the organization is called Girls on the Run and it combines two of my passions: women’s issues and running!

GOTR is a NFP that uses running to encourage preteen girls to cultivate their sense of self-respect and develop a healthy lifestyle through running. It is SO cool. Young women ages 8 to 13 train with coaches – ladies like you and me from all walks of life – in short fun runs, with the culminating event being a 3.1-mile event (yikes! That’s what I run once a week!) The workouts are designed to be all about boosting their self-esteem and promoting strong, positive emotional, social, mental, spiritual and physical development. The ultimate goal? To reduce the potential for at-risk activities among our younger generation – fewer adolescent pregnancies and eating disorders, less depression, fewer substance/alcohol abuse problems. I believe the thinking goes: The better you feel about yourself (from running), the less likely you are to be swayed by peer pressure or societal influences.

So, I’m on the Junior Board and we met this week for the first time. It was so great to meet a new group of like-minded women and I soon realized everyone has such a unique, impressive backgrounds. One is a volunteer counselor for a child bereavement program at the local hospital. One is a comic book illustrator. One spent a college spring break building a Habitat for Humanity home. One speaks fluent Hindi, Urdu and Punjabi. Um…I blog!

I looked around and saw lots of well-worn running shoes, more than a few ACL scars peeking out from shorts and skirts and overheard things like, “Are you running “Disney?” and “I just finished a relay race from Madison (as in, Wisconsin) to Chicago.” Crap. I hadn’t even worked out that day. But as it turns out, you needn’t be a Runner’s World poster girl – some women there don’t even like power walking while others marathon in their sleep. The important thing is we all care about shoring up the self-esteem of young girls in a fun, distinctive way.

Another fun aspect of GOTR (which, BTW, has picked up so much momentum that there is now a waiting list to join the more than 2000 girls nationwide…from just 60 girls in 1999!): Team Tiara. This is the charity running leg of GOTR, made up of runners who enroll in marathons and raise funds while running in crazily designed foam tiaras. Very fun. And apparently they yell “Sparkle Fingers!!” to encourage each other on – younger girls and grown adults alike :-)

I am really excited about this opportunity to influence the future of our girls and introduce them to healthy habits. There are opportunities in cities all over the country and I encourage you to check it out.

Go girl power!

Summer lovin'

It's the first day of summer! Finally...time to enjoy warm breezes and icy treats, margaritas and sundresses, Fourth of July fireworks and the fun that ensues from rolling electricty blackouts.

Even though in Chicago, the season quickly morphs to being unbearably hot and humid (I'm sure I'll be complaining in no time), for now, it's gorgeous and I want to take advantage. There's nothing like jogging/rollerblading/biking along Lake Michigan and being surround by literally thousands of other men, women and children, all getting their summertime groove on. For some, it's lying out on the beach (wear sunblock!) For others, it's running barechested (hello, hello, Mr. Man...) And for others, it's building sandcastles and splashing in the water. I love just soaking it all in - it makes me feel so - for lack of a better word - GOOD!

Last night I went for a walk and couldn't help but notice all of the summery smells I was taking in as I wove my way through the neighborhoods:

A lilac bush
Fried onion rings and beer from a sports bar
Clean laundry
Over-ripe apples hanging from a tree
Horse poop (Chicago cops!)
The clean sweat of a runner
A man's cologne that smelled just like my husband's (Joop!)
A wet dog
Cigarette snoke - blech
Freshly mowed grass

Let summer begin!

Alli - friend or foe?

Unless you live under a rock, you've heard of alli (TM), the prettily rainbow-hued, newly FDA-approved OTC weight loss product. It started making itself known in ads a few months ago, appearing as some sort of book (at least that's how I took it.) Turns out, there is a book - I know because I spotted a whole bunch of 'em while grocery shopping last night - which you need to take the PILL - Orlistat ( a fat-blocker). You toss these babies back three times a day with meals containing fat. So, all meals. Alli (pronounced "al-eye" as in, "I'm your ally, I can help you get thin, I'm on your side." Clever) works by blocking about 25 percent of the fat an individual takes in.

But beware! This is not a license to drive through Mickey Ds and chomp down on cheeseburgers to your heart's content. You must maintain a reduced-calorie, low-fat diet with about 15 grams of fat per meal (drink a Grande Caramel Frappuccino with whipped cream and you're in trouble.) What kind of trouble, you ask? Oh, wait, check this out from the official web site:

"The active ingredient in alli attaches to some of the natural enzymes in the digestive system, preventing them from breaking down about a quarter of the fat you eat. Undigested fat cannot be absorbed and passes through the body naturally. The excess fat is not harmful. In fact, you may recognize it in the toilet as something that looks like the oil on top of a pizza."

:-(

I flipped through a brochure and while it sound impressive to hear a fat-blocker will help you lose 50% more weight that diet and exercise alone, what it boils down to is a 15-lb weight loss with the drug versus a 10-lb weight loss with your own hard work. And clean undies to boot.

I don't know, I think part of me is over-reacting. Of course it's good to get people on the right track toward becoming healthy and losing weight if they need to. I just think that with this plan, since you already have to maintain an exemplary diet and exercise regimen in addition to the drug, why not just stick to A and B instead of adding gassy, oily C on top? What are your thoughts? Has anyone tried alli?

BTW I am not a doctor (though I play Dr. McDreamy's love interest on a special TV show in my mind). For more information, see a medical review at The Diet Channel.

Wedding dress drama

I totally forgot to tell you...the bride at the wedding I was at wore her prom dress for her wedding gown!
And it looked beautiful!

Apparently she had really good taste back then (unlike myself, who wore a kind of faux tuxedo-front halter satin number...not as butch as it sounds but unattractive nonetheless), choosing an ivory beaded tank-style dress than hung straight to the ground. Fourteen years later, when her knight in shining khaki (he's a teacher) proposed, she knew exactly what she wanted to wear.

But would it fit?

Now, allow me to preface this by saying Bride M. - now Wife M. - has always had a slammin' bod. She's athletic, has nice, toned muscles from years of basketball and softball. Tall, proportionately curvy. What my dad would describe as "Built like a brick shithouse." She was thisclose to fitting into the dress. But rather than have a seam let out here or there, she hired a trainer and started to workout a lot and drop some weight.

Bride M. didn't take things too far - she lost a few inches where she wanted and the dress fit her like a glove. But what's up with the weight obsession that seems to take over so many brides the minute the engagement ring hits the fourth finger? Now that we're at the height of wedding season, I'm seeing ads for Bridal Boot Camps and Wedding Dress Diet plans everywhere. A quick Google search for "wedding diet" turned up 8,960,000 results (in 0.08 seconds, natch).

When I was getting married, I remember finding The Dress. It was in stock in two sizes, A and B. Size A was smaller. It fit...snugly. I remember that devil, Vanity, sitting on my right shoulder, yelling at me to buy Size A. "You can look back for years and say you wore this at your wedding!" But the angel on my left shoulder was pleading, "Get Size B and cut yourself some slack. Otherwise, you are going to hem and haw over everything you put in your mouth for the next eight months and obsess over working out." So I went with the bigger size and let me tell you, Thank God! I wound up going through a medication change a month later and gained about 12 pounds in two weeks as a side effect and Size A NEVER would have fit. I'd have been screwed. And I wasn't even married yet!
ory beaded tank-style dress than hung straight to the ground. Fourteen years later, when her knight in shining khaki (he's a teacher) proposed, she knew exactly what she wanted to wear.

But would it fit?

Now, allow me to preface this by saying Bride M. - now Wife M. - has always had a slammin' bod. She's athletic, has nice, toned muscles from years of basketball and softball. Tall, proportionately curvy. What my dad would describe as "Built like a brick shithouse." She was thisclose to fitting into the dress. But rather than have a seam let out here or there, she hired a trainer anout me! The bathroom is spinning!" Sexy, I know.)

So what is it that makes everyone want to lose weight for the big day? Is it a challenge to fit into a smaller size dress? An obvious goal to work towards in terms of shaping up? Women want to look hot for their partner? For everyone else on the invite list? Have you found yourself caught up in the pre-wedding calorie restriction or enrolled in a bridal boot camp? Share your stories!

xoxo,
Leslie "I Do (Love Late-night Blogging)" Goldman

Roller coaster weekend

Hi everyone,
So, I’ve thought a lot about whether this is something I should blog about or save for the therapist’s couch, but I feel safe here, amongst friends, so...

I’ve been dealing with some harsh feelings about my body lately. Typically I feel very positive, happy and blessed and am able to draw upon all the wonderful things in my life for strength, rather than get wrapped up in feelings of "Body Part X could look better" or "Maybe I shouldn’t have had second helpings of cake.” As a body image expert (hello!) and a woman who has lived through an eating disorder, I am smart enough to realize that these feelings tend to surface when I’m stressed –-they’re a coping mechanism, essentially: It’s easier to count calories than to deal with the more deeply-rooted issues like, "Why am I spreading myself so thin?” or “Why am I being bitchy to so-and-so?”

Which makes it even more frustrating when I find myself becoming just a tad obsessive or making negative comments (be they in my head or toe mirror)about my body, which is what happened this weekend. I feel like I, of all people, should know better. We were at a wedding and there was lots pf eating to excess, drinking, not a lot of time for working out, etc. Of course, it was a celebration – there’s nothing wrong with any of this. But considering the fact I have been more than a bit stressed out lately, the emotional wheels were already spinning my eating porterhouse and chocolate melt cake and all kind of other rich, delicious goodies meal after meal (when I usually indulge in such treats on occasion, not five times in two days) simply sped them up even more.

I guess it just goes to show, nobody is perfect. I am not perfect. We are all on a journey, all working to better ourselves, all trying to improve our mental and physical health. The body image writer - yes, the one who people call “slender” or “thin” - is equally entitled to her own battles, ups and downs, because she is human. Just like anyone else, I want to make it to that place where I can live free from negative self talk. I’ve spent many good years there lately…this is just a little speed bump; of that, I feel confident. Today I’ll eat sensibly (not dieting) and will exercise to slash some stress and tomorrow will be a new day. It always is!

Thanks for listening!

Love,
Leslie

Daddy's girl

When I was a sophomore in high school, I got into a horrible bike accident that left me in a wheelchair for two months. I won't go into details, but let's just say that at age 15, when all you want is to fit in and be popular, being pushed around by your parents with all four limbs bandaged up like a Ace mummy doesn't exactly scream "cool kid".

That summer, I remember one especially depressing day when I was lying on the sofa, watching music videos (this was back when MTV did play music videos and reality TV didn't even exist). "Summertime" by Will Smith came on and I felt so miserable and depressed. Not only did I long to be outside, swimming at pool parties and getting Dairy Queen with my friends, but I was battling much larger concerns about my future like, "How will I relearn walking and dancing?"

Hating my body for the way it looked (I had been badly burned), I started crying to my dad. "Who will ever want to go out with me?" I asked between patheic sniffles. "What boy will ever want to date me looking like this?"

And my dad looked me right in the eye in our family room and said with a gentle smile, "Honey, why would you ever want to be with someone who only loved you for what you looked like on the outside?" I'll never forget that - it maybe didn't cure all of my boyfriend woes on the spot, but it touched me deep-down and that message has resonated ever since. It speaks volumes about the kind of man my father is and how he raised my brother and I.

Lots of love to all the fathers out there who are raising strong, confident women (and men). You're doing important work. And Happy Father's Day, Dad!

xxo,
Leslie

Bra hou-hah

Braless in the summertime: Hot or not?

Things to consider:

Size
Outfit
Venue
Nipplage
Whether you give a damn what other women think
Whether you give a damn what men think

Spill.

PS This has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that I just ran errands in a green "Property of Boystown" teeshirt and pajama shorts....nothing else. I'm a small B, quite firm up top (if I do say so myself), was in the gay district of Chicago and don't care what anyone thought...not that anyone was looking :-)

All stressed out and nowhere to go?

From a friend and fellow Weighting Game poster: "How about doing a blog about balancing a stressful career with taking care of yourself? I need to hear how other people deal with this. I've been so stressed at work that I've been pounding the chocolate and crashing at home."

Can you help her out? I've managed to work myself into a tizzy between writing (I swear, I'm juggling double-digit assignments right now), travelling, shelling out $700+ for new breaks (Carlos, you're KILLING me!), and trying to find suitable anniversary presents for my parents, in-laws, plus Father's Day gifts and, oh yeah, 8 bazillion family members have birthdays in the next three weeks, including my husband, father, and two grandfathers - one turning the big 9-0! Mostly it's the work that's got me all wonky, thinking Tuesday is Wednesday and locking my car keys in the car on Sunday night at the gym, 10 minutes before the Sopranos series finale was about to start and kicking off a three hour ordeal extraordinaire that I may blog about at a later date, if I'm not too embarrassed by my own stupidity (it gets so, so much worse.)

When I get stressed, I get pimply and cranky and tend to dive into the peanut butter, emerging sticky and covered in a thick layer of regret. Sometimes I need to sequester myself in a room and watch TLC Property Ladder or something equally zone-worthy. If I've had caffeine, I can go for a run and pound it out, hip hop blasting through my iPod. A really good, hard sweat always de-stresses me. So does a good shtup, but my mother is now visiting the site so I need to be careful what I say.

What do you do? Scream into a pillow? Write in a journal? Take a bath? Shop? (Oh, yeah, I do that big time. I can track my stressful days by impulse buys...like little crumbs following me home from a bakery...)

Help my friend, help me, help each other. Stress Busters 101 starts now.

Insult of the day

A random teenage boy on the street told me I have cankles today.

Shopping snobbery

One of my all-time favorite movie scenes to re-enact is from Pretty Woman when Julia Roberts, pre-makeover, is shopping on Rodeo and the snotty saleslady looks her up and down and sniffs, "I don't think we have anything for you. You're obviously in the wrong place. Please leave." Actually, I’m not heartless – the part I really like to do is the post-makeover scenario when gorgeous-but-now-proper Vivian returns, weighed down with couture shopping bags and delivers that trademark line every woman loves: “You work on commission right? Big mistake. Huge! I have to go shopping now…”

Is there any lady alive (rude salespeople excluded) who does not worship the empowering, confidence-boosting, you-go-girlness of that moment?

I was recently reminded of the Rodeo Drive beatdown when my mother recounted the following few anecdotes to me:

1) She was shopping for a gift in a popular department store, looking at dresses in the plus-sized department. A saleslady asked if she needed any help. “I asked if the dress that I saw was available in an extra-large versus a 1X,” mom recounted, “and she said that she didn't know if it came in a ‘normal’ size.” What?! “Then she clamped her hand to her lips and she said she couldn't believe that came out of her mouth.” (As a sidenote, my mother added that the lady herself was overweight, not super-svelte or anything like that).

What do you think the woman meant by “normal?” Clearly she mentally connects anything over the standard S/M/L/XL as being abnormal. This is sad on so many stages – on the individual level because, as a plus-sized woman herself, she perhaps considers herself irregular. And on the greater, societal level – she interacts with many, many women on a daily basis…who knows what else has come spewing out of her mouth?

2) Next, while in knitting class, mom and her fellow crafty ladies were discussing their looks (Grandkids? SO last decade!) “While we felt that none of us were drop dead gorgeous, we did feel that we were all attractive women - but so many of us have gone into stores to shop, and getting a sales person to help can be difficult, as though we were invisible.” Until – that is – “our teenage and older daughters came up to us and then help was plentiful.”

Any moms out there identify with this? Any women who work in the stores (I endured a one-month stint at The Gap in high school, it's true) and want to come forward and defend their behavior...or correct me?

BTW, I think that my mother and her knitting group were able to talk about these sensitive issues with such self-awareness, that they could stitch and bitch without devolving into a body-bashing session, shows an incredibly strong sense of positive body image among them. Great role models...and shopping buddies!

OK, I'm off like a prom dress. In the words of our beloved Vivian, "I have to go shopping now…”

I did...and I do!

Happy third anniversary to my witty, whipsmart, caring, sexy husband Dan. Although you're off gallivanting in glorious Detroit for business, I know you're thinking of me! And I, you...

Dan always, ALWAYS makes me feel beautiful - and I mean both as a woman and as a human being in general. He loves the way I stare, mouth agape, at the television during "So You Think You Can Dance?" just as much as he loves watching me dance crazily across the condo to hip-hop. He wholeheartedly supports my writing career and doesn't bat an eyelash when I have trouble adding checks at the ATM. He laughs - really laughs - at my jokes, smacks my butt in jeans and sweats alike, and always insists on sitting in the chofa (one-and-a-half stuffed chair) together, rather than on the sofa, apart. He has seen me through my eating battle, buying Reviving Ophelia when we were college freshman so he could better understand what I was going through (hello? What 17-year-old guy is so in touch?) but knows when to roll his eyes to put me in my place if I say something negative about myself.

Honestly, what more could I ask for? I love you, baby.

Please, please, share what you love about your partner or family!

Run like a girl

Considering my (a) penchant for shopping and (b) dedication to exercise, I was shocked when I recently came to the bizarre conclusion that I am still wearing sports bras from (gross factor alert) the year 2000. Clearly the time has come for a workout wardrobe revamp. When deciding what kind of gear I needed (long-torso tank tops with barely-there built-in shelf bras, tees capable of wicking away my Michael Jordan-like sweat production), I became infatuated with this new breed of bottom: the running skirt.

Think about the typical pair of workout shorts. They’re either too short or too long. They creep up your butt. The drawstring gets lost inside and you have to fish it out, MacGyver-like, with a safety pin and can opener. And they’re usually fairly androgynous.

That’s why I was so psyched when I started reading about running skirts (yes, they have little shorts built in – you need not worry about flashing your private bits to the world as you sing along to Britney Spears on you iPod Nano). One of the pioneers in the field, SkirtSports, is based in my hometown of Chicago and was founded by professional triathlete Nicole DeBoom. (BTW such a cool name!) DeBoom wanted something fun, flirty and inspiring to wear while racing and, out of her creative mind, SkirtSports and TRIKS athletic apparel for women were born. In September 2004, Nicole won the Ironman Wisconsin wearing a prototype of her triathlon skirt. But you need not be a triathlete to rock one of these (I sure the hell am not!) – you can wear these babies biking, playing tennis, golf, on the Elliptical or even just running errands.

I tried the GymGirl running skirt, which has an ingenious iPod/MP3 pocket built into the side leg of the shorts and a buttonhole under the waistband so you can thread your headphone cord up and out – no more banging against your arms! I also ran around in the Adidas Supernova Running Skort. Both skirts kept me super dry with high-tech material, have flat, low-riding waistbands that don’t pinch or grab, and neither rode up at all. The Adidas skirt has reflective branding so you stand out at night. No, they’re not ridiculously tiny like those cheerleader things with the underwear you can see (mine are actually a bit longer than my usual shorts). Plus, I felt so friggin’ sassy while wearing them – which made me want to run longer. This will bode well for other activities, like the Stairmaster or long walks (though I will admit, I think some people thought I was wearing a tennis skirt and gave me odd, “Why is she jogging in a tennis skirt?” looks. So I shot back with my trademark, “Why are you staring at my hot skirt when you should be paying attention to your girlfriend?” smirk.)

Running skirts officially have the highly coveted Leslie Goldman seal of approval. And, to sweeten the deal, SkirtSports will offer you a 15% off discount when you send in a pair of your ratty old gym shorts – that’s how badly they want you to convert to a skirt! As a bonus, for every pair of shorts they receive, they’ll donate $1 to the American Heart Association’s Go Red for Women campaign.

So (for)get shorty and grab one of these skirts. If feeling confident and cute are your thing, I mean.

All dressed up

A few days ago, I was sitting in O'hare, waiting for my plane to arrive. Running around the terminal was a little girl, maybe two years old, wearing a full-out mermaid costume. I'm talking sparkly green skirt with flowy chiffon detail, a purple bikini top fastened over her pink long-sleeved shirt - the works. Everyone was staring at her, smiling and whispering to each other how cute she was. And the little lady (Hannah was her name, I later learned) was totally oblivious to the joy she was creating; she was more focused - much to her mom's chagrin - on ducking under roped-off areas, hiding behind newspaper machines, twirling.

I was so freaking jealous.

Imagine how much fun life would be if we could dress however we wanted, social constraints be damned. Costumes all the time! Tuesday, you might wake up in a princess mood so, instead of pulling on control-top hose and a boring business suit, you whip out your long, poufy gown, white gloves and tiara. Got a hot date Friday? Pull on your Marilyn Monroe dress to channel your sexiness. Or, if it was PMS time and you just felt mean and wanted to punch something (this is me right now), you could ditch the tight jeans and pull on a football helmet, shoulder pads and bloat-forgiving jersey.

OK, so we're adults and Hannah is a two-year-old...she considers hot dog bites fine cuisine and thinks Dora the Explorer is queen of the world. But she's definitely onto something. Wear your emotional state on your sleeve and everyone is happier. Much less confused. (Do I think this was the thought process that went into the toddler's dressing routine that day? Of course not. I'm sure her mom had to bribe her into getting dressed as they hurriedly prepared to catch a plane and lil' H, seizing her moment, screamed "I wanna wear my Ariel outfit!")

If you could wear a costume for today, what would it be? Let me know the fantasy personality of my e-friends here!

Love,
Your Little Mermaid Wannabe

Muffin Top (n): Apocalypse

In 2006, I was pleased to learn that “soul patch,” “drama queen,” and “unibrow” had been added to the Merriam-Webster's Collegiate® Dictionary, Eleventh Edition. Fun, right? Sign of the times?

No, my friends. This is a sign of the times: “Muffin Top” has officially been added to the Collins English Dictionary.

For those of you not currently embroiled in the whole compare-your-body-parts-to-food phenomenon, congratulations. I envy you. You do not yet know that a Muffin Top is a phrase used to describe the excess fat that bulges over too-tight waistbands. The phrase came into use as of late, when low-rise jeans became popular and anybody -- unless you have zero body fat (oh, did I mention “Size Zero” was added to the dictionary, too?) -- found some pudge…or even just skin…mushrooming over.

What’s next? Are the etymologists going to add “Man boobs” next? “Bra fat”?

Sorry if I’m being, um, a drama queen (look it up) but this just depresses the crap out of me.

I'm going to go eat a muffin.

The Jay Leno Diet

People eat more when they watch TV – we all know that. But according to a new study by Dr. Alan Hirsch, neurological director of Chicago’s Smell and Taste Treatment and Research Foundation, it seems that who you tune into late-night can impact not only your belly laughing, but your actual belly.

Hirsch set out to explore the impact of television on eating behaviors by measuring potato chip consumption during the evening talk shows. What he found: volunteers munched through an average of 44 percent more chips while watching David Letterman’s monologue and 42 percent more during Jay Leno’s, versus watching no TV at all.
Personally, Leno gives me the heeby-jeebies, so this is just one more reason to not tune in. But Dave? Say it ain’t so! Maybe I’ll have to switch to Conan.

(BTW, Dr. Hirsch is the same expert who told the world that the scents of lavender mixed with pumpkin pie produces the greatest sexual arousal in males. For women, it’s Good & Plenty plus cucumbers…this offers up so many potential jokes, I won’t even go there.)

In other “battle of the bulge” news, ePocrates has announced the results of their “2007 Obesity Report” - a nationwide survey of physicians which revealed doctors consider obesity to be the single largest public health crisis in the nation. (ePocrates develops mobile and web-based patient safety products for doctors.) This isn’t a huge shock – obesity has so many ties to diseases such as cancer, diabetes, heart disease and more that it’s bound to be a top priority – but I found some of the additional survey highlights really interesting, like the fact that 88% of physicians surveyed feel that more than 30% of their peers are clinically overweight, even when each understands the consequences; and 93% of physicians ranked Weight Watchers® as the best weight loss program, followed by The South Beach Diet™.

So I guess today’s take-home messages are: Lock up the chips, skip the Leno monologue, pick a doctor who’s in good health him/herself and, if you’re hungry for a little lovin’, hide a pumpkin pie under your pillow, spritz on some lavender sheet spray and get busy.

This little piggie wears patent

Everywhere I go, it seems, ladies are sporting shiny shoes. Out on Saturday night, my friend Amanda was wearing gold-and-cork wedge heels. I saw more than my fair share of women wearing the same towering Steve Madden patent leather pumps in blue, red and black. Even pumping weights at the gym, a potential member was being given a tour, sporting black capris and insanely high, glossy black stilettos. I almost knocked myself out doing bicep curls, so entranced was I by their shininess…and I’m a girl. I can hardly imagine the peril she was placing the men in – as my wedge-shoed friend Amanda always says, “Boys like shiny.” Those oafs were probably mesmerized.

OK, I’ll admit, I too have jumped onboard the tootsie train. I recently bought these badboys – but in red – and I love them, even thought I am nursing some serious blisters as we (commun)e-cate. Wearing them, with a pair of jeans and a black tank, makes me feel so damn sexy! Even though they’re peeptoes and I have 10 little digits that could each easily sub in for Medusa’s head, slipping on a pair of heels instantly makes me feel more confident, improves my posture, and helps me get drinks faster at the bar, as I tower over the other guys.

I’ve read that one of the reasons women have such passionate love affairs with shoes (I’m no Carrie Bradshaw, but I do see the appeal), is because they don’t typically change in size or rely on weight. Unlike, say, a pair of jeans that might get tight during your period or after the holiday throw-down, or a sports bra that reveals a bit of under-band bulge, shoes are our body-image friends. A size 9 is a size 9, give or take a smidge. It does not care what we ate for breakfast, or if we forgot to workout that day. Our shoes just want to comfort us, to get us where we need to go and, hopefully, to do it in style. Like a sugar daddy, but mute and free from sexual demands. Perfect!

Anyone else get a body-image boost from their shoes? Nikes, Manolos, Aerosoles…what does it for you?

PS Confession: Many of my girlfriends did the socially responsible thing and got pedicures this lovely weekend, so their toes were presentable/attractive. I, shamefully, did not. I have only once dipped my feet in that bubbling cauldron and wound up embarrassing myself as I laughed like a hyena for 20 minutes as my (very ticklish) feet we pumiced and rubbed. It was quite mortifying and so I fear I may be a lifelong DIY-er.