Hello 2008!

When I was six years old, my list of New Year’s Resolutions began with the uber-important goal, “Always write my name like this:…” and then my name was spelled like something Hello Kitty would puke up with a pen – the “e”s in my name were rotated a quarter turn counter-clockwise and the “I” was dotted with a bubble heart. (If you’ve ever seen L.A. Story with Steve Martin, you’ll have an idea of what I’m talking about – Sarah Jessica Parker’s ditzy spokesmodel character spelled her name SanDeE* ).

Clearly, resolutions evolve.

Over the past years, I’ve written list after list, declaring my intent to:

Lose weight

Stop getting on the scale like a trained monkey

Stop picking my cuticles like an untrained monkey

Read more books (this one actually worked, to the point where my husband had to have a sit-down talk with me about the fact that I was always – and I do mean always – off in a huddled mass reading, in the car, before/during/after dinner, in bed…)

But a few years ago, I resolved to stop making these hopelessly futile lists, figuring that ‘tis better to constantly work on myself throughout the year as opposed to laying it all on the line come January 1. (Note to self: Stop yelling at Peter the Therapist. He’s just doing what you pay him to do.)

Ironically, now that shedding pounds is no longer a NYE resolution, I bet I’m losing at least a few pounds due to some freaking annoying and painful bug I picked up in Mexico. Actually, that’s why this blog is being posted so late –I’ve been curled up in the fetal position on my cranberry velvet chofa all day, softly mewling and intermittently running to the bathroom every 10 minutes. My NYE dinner? Sugar-free lemon Jell-o and dry Corn Pops.

This morning, before the internal GI clawing began, I was at the gym along with a large handful of other die-harders. I passed the pool and noticed an assortment of index cards posted up from children who take swim lessons there. Each boy and girl had scrawled their name in crayon, along with three goals for the season. One thing I learned: Mastering the Butterfly Stroke is right up there with getting a Wii this season for the under 10-set. Lots of these precocious youngsters (I’m talking to you Madison, Kimberly and Jacob) are also hellbent on swimming two laps without stopping.

But one girl’s swimteam resolution caught my eye. Written in red crayon, alongside her intent on treading water more efficiently and “learning to butterflie” was this goal:

“Become an athlete.”

God, I wish I could find that little Caty and hug her, slap her five and buy her a cool new pair of goggles. You go girl. Nice resolution.

I hope all of you are enjoying your last day of December, 2007 and psyched for a phenomenal 2008. May we all grow independently and together, be happy and healthy and push ourselves to be the best we can be...balancing that with our happiness, of course.

Please do share your resolutions here, whatever they may be. Post your whole list if the mood strikes!

PS T-minus five hours until Chicago goes smoke-free! Wee!!!

Tan: the new 'Thin'?

OK, so I'll probably burn in some kind of body image expert hell for this - as well as discover an oddly-shaped mole in the middle of my forehead when I wake up tomorrow morning - but I have to ask: Is it just me, or does being tan make you feel more svelte? Or just simply better about the way you look? I've been lying out (wearing SPF 45, I swear) and have gotten pretty bronzed and I. Just. Feel. Good. Like, walk-around-the-pool-in-a-bikini-and-flip-flops, not-worry-about-my-cellulite-or-mosquito-bite-covered-butt, period-zits-not-so-prominent good. What's up with that?

Is it really the camouflage effect of the tan that makes me feel better about my bod? Or the old-school mentality that a suntan represents health and outdoorsiness? As a medical writer, I clearly know being tan is pretty much the opposite of health, as it increases one's risk for skin cancer and wrinkles. Still, I have to admit, when I step out of the shower and see myself in the mirror, with that naked white bikini still on, limbs all brown and dewy, I feel sexier and more confident. I even turnbed around today and shook my butt, pretending for a second I was that cute bare-bottomed-baby in the Coppertone commercials being tugged at by her pooch.

Too much information? Understood.

My good mood could also be a result of being happy, relaxed and on vaycay, or even the serotonin boost of warm sun in the winter. But really, I've never been a S.A.D. kind of girl. Weigh in with me, please - long-term skin effects aside, does being tan make you feel better about your body?

Bare all in the comments section.

Pool-side fun

First of all, how freaking excited was I yesterday when, while lounging poolside, I turned to my left to find a young woman staring at me...and it was my sister-in-law! And then I heard my brother's voice behind me and once I realized no, I did not in fact have sun-poisoning (besides, it was cloudy) I figured out that they were surprising me in Mexico! Well, they didn't make the trip just for me - her parents are here and so they're all staying just 10 minutes down the beach. Wee! A couple rounds of pina coladas later, we were buzzed and laughing and making plans for dinner tonight. Too surreal!

Also seen at the pool yesterday:
- A group of 70+ women, giggling and gossiping in the hot tub like an older generation's Sex and the City - love it!

-A thin teenage boy wearing an "I Beat Anorexia" tee-shirt. Hate it.

-A PMS-ing yours truly complaining about needing chocolate...and five minutes later, my husband appeared out of nowhere and said "Close your eyes and open your mouth." I've hear that before so I giggled and refused but he insisted so I did and a pebble-sized something hit my tongue. I sucked on it, thinking it was one of his sister's Red Hots (GREAT idea, BTW, Jess) but, when I failed to detect a hint of cinnamon, I bit down and (cue angels singing) CHOCOLATE! An M&M! Dan had gone into the mini-mart and bought a bag to tide over my cravings. He's the best.

Continued Happy Holidays, everyone!
Leslie

Viva la Mexico!

(Caveat: I do not speak Spanish so I have no idea what "Viva la Mexico" means, if anything, but it sounds good so there ya go.)

So, I'm in Nueva Vallarta, Mexico, which is supposed to me the "new school" area of town but is actually just a gigantic compound of huge, beautiful resorts where one can roam for hours and still not find the gym but a mango margarita is always within arm's reach. Slurp.

Our trip here was (not) fun - stuck on the tarmac at O'Hare for three hours and, just before taking off, our captain informed us that the airport's luggage system failed and only 75% of our flight's bags were on board, but we had to leave anyway to avoid violating employee work hour rules. Sweet. (PS against all odds, our three pieces of luggage made it, staving off a gigantic potential hissy fit on my part.)

As many of you know/may have guessed from my last name and fantastic sense of humor, I'm Jewish, so Christmas in Mexico is a sort of rite of passage. What else am I supposed to do - eat Chinese food and get the crap scared out of me at Old Country For No Men? That is, like, so last year...and the year before..and the ten years before. If you need any further proof of just how popular this area is for My People around this time, look no further than my flight from yesterday. It was like being at temple on Rosh Hashana – everyone named Cohen or Rosenthal, lots of kippahs (those little round caps) and a pair of sisters singing “David Melech Y’Israel” at the top of their lungs.

I had a monster headache from sitting on the plane for so long with just water and Sprite Zero to sustain me (oh, I did have two McDonalds Fruit and Yogurt Parfaits with me – dah dah dah dah dah. I’m lovin’ it.) so I shoved my headphones on and lost a few brain cells watching an in-flight movie called The Gift. Eventually, we landed and took a cab to meet the fam at our hotel, which is muy nice and brings me cut-up fruit and Coca Lights and leaves delish dark chocolate Hershey’s Kisses on my pillow.

I hope everyone out there has a wonderful holiday (if you celebrate Christmas) or is doing something fun and relaxing. Tonight I’ll mentally toast y’all at dinner and if you hear a far-off shrieking in the distance, don’t worry – it’s just me freaking out because shrimp have eyeballs here and the waiters love to dangle the suckers over our heads until we pass out.

Feliz Navidad!
El Leslie

The human body continues to amaze...

Not to get all sappy but I really do stand in awe of the human body when I read about the everyday things it does just to keep us going. For instance:

- Yawning. One theory is that opening wide is a way to keep your brain from overheating. The brain actually burns up about one-third of the total calories you take in, so it gets pretty hot up there. By bringing in a huge amount of air, yawning cools the blood flowing up to the brain, so your can keep thinking/daydreaming/reading Weighting Game.

- Rubbing a boo-boo. You know the instinct to rub your elbow when you whack it on a table corner? (Or, if you're like me, smack your wrist hard against the door jamb when, while doing a drunken striptease on Thursday night, you attempt to playfully toss your top to your husband but instead whip your arm up overhead, resulting in a large bruise the next day). Well, that natural tendency to massage away the pain is your bod's way of blocking discomfort. The sensation of touch travels faster that pain, and the nervous system can only process one of these feelings at a time, so rubbing the owie wins out over throbbing hurt. This is good news for chronic bangers like myself.

- Eggs in a basket. When a little girl is born, she essentially is carrying a key ingredient on what will one day develop into her own daughter: eggs. Women are born with about one to two million immature eggs, or follicles, in our ovaries. Most of these will die as we age, and by puberty, only about 400,000 follicles remain. Each time we go through a menstrual cycle, up to 1000 follicles are lost but one special lil lady will mature into an ovum (egg) which then gets released in what is known as ovulation (unless you're on the Pill or another method, which prvents ovulation by tricking you body into thinking it's already preggers.) So if you happen to be pregnant and give birth to a girl, you can, in a way, say hello to your future grandchild. Yikes!

- Muscles working in pairs. Because our skeletal muscles only pull in one direction, they come in pairs (think quadricep/hamstring; biceps/triceps.) When one muscle in a pair contracts, its counterpart pulls in the opposite direction to straighten the joint out again. Without this, we would be all messed up - with no triceps muscle, for instance, your arm would be permanently bent in that comic arm-in-cast-propped-up-by-a-stick way.
- Leftie or rightie. Now this on I'm positive about, but I believe the reason so many women (myself included) have a larger left breast versus right is because the heart, located to the West, pushes that baby up a bit. Anyone else heard this theory?

OK, off to appreciate my body and the delicious tastes it lets me experience in Nueva Vallarta, Mexico!! Guacamole and ceviche, here I come!!

Just breathe

The same-old, same-old routine of elliptical, Stepmill, weights, repeat can get a bit boring, so I was psyched to try a new workout yesterday at a gorgeous, Zen-infused spa in Chicago called exhale (they also have locations in Boston, San Diego, NY, and more). Called Core Fusion®, the mind-body class is described on the website as "a Pilates-infused transformational fitness experience." As such, I was expecting a relaxing, yoga-type class.

Oh, no.

This 60-minute class kicked my ass as it set to firming it. There was mat work, repetitive light weights, lots of isometric exercises and also some barre work, which left my abs and butt burning and sweat trickling down my back, despite the fact I was only lifting my leg about an inch at a time. (Imagine sitting beneath a ballet barre, facing the wall, one leg bent in front of you and one behind. Now, holding onto the barre, lift your back leg and knee off the floor while keeping it parallel - if you get a Charlie Horse in your glutes, you're doing it right.) At points, my body was shaking, then aching, but all in a "Trust me, this is for your own good" kind of way.

Sore by the time class ended, I felt like I had just gotten a unique workout - one that would probably result in washboard abs and a butt you can bounce a quarter off of if taken on a regular basis. Plus, you get to wear fun yoga clothes and workout in your socks, then clean off beneath a rainfall shower, maybe get a thai massage or some acupuncture and buy a delicious-smelling lemon and gignger soy candle on your way out.

If you live near an exhale spa, why not stop by and try a class - it's a new challenge and the atmosphere is ultra-relaxing. And did I mention, there's a fancy gong? Because there is, and as a wise woman once said, anywhere there's a gong is worth going.

PS How excited was I to happen upon the much-talked about but rarely seen Christmas L on the way home from exhale? I heard the train coming as I descended into the subway so I started hustling and when I reached the bottom, I was greeted with an L car that looked like Ed Debevics had puked all over it. Tinsel, ribbons, candy cane-striped poles, red- and green-tinted overhead lights, fake ads and a Real Live Elf (OK, a Chicago Transit Authority employee dressed up) handing out candy canes. How can you not be cheered up when your public transportation looks so ridiculously cheesy and fun and The Chipmunks are singing their Christmas song? Thanks, Chicago!

The devil on my (toned) shoulder

This morning I woke up at 5:54am (on purpose, natch) and so did not want to crawl out of bed and dress for the gym. I blindly slapped the alarm clock and managed to hit the Snooze button, buying me a few precious minutes of pseudo-sleep. Then that freaking dumb-but-oh-so-catchy song, "AppleBottom jeans, boots with the fur..." blared on, shaking my very soul to the core. As I found myself mouthing the words, "Shorty got low, low, low, low, low, low, low, low..." - much to my sleeping husband's pleasure, I'm sure - I started thinking how nice it would be to not workout this morning.

I debated - one the one hand, I was already awake and my gym bag was packed my the front door. Plus, I had plowed through a post-nookie box of granola just five hours earlier, so I'd have energy to burn. On the other hand, I was in bed, in my birthday suit (just being honest! And we have high thread count sheets so I kind of have to), with a warm body next to me practically begging to be snuggled. The workout could wait until tomorrow, I reasoned.

But then I thought about the fact that we'll be in Mexico soon and I probably won't be hitting the gym too much while I'm there. That, combined with visions of non-stop guacamole and the blazing sun shining down on my bikini-clad tush got me out from under the covers and I slogged through 30 minutes of Elliptical at the gym.

These kind of internal battles go on all the time in women who workout - we go back and forth, some of us trying to justify a skipped cardio session, others being forgiving but then feeling guilty about ditching yoga. I recently stumbled upon this very amusing account of one woman's inner dialogue and thought I'd share because, wel, it's just so true.

"This is an Actual Conversation that occurred in Crabby's brain several days ago.

Crabby: I know it's getting to be time for the gym but I don't think I'll go today. I hate the gym.

Crabby's Conscience: Just go.

Crabby: But I don't wannnnna. I go to the gym plenty. Leave me alone.

Crabby's Conscience: You're due for aerobics today. A long one, remember you said? And you're way way overdue for weights. You haven't done them since Monday. You can't skip out again.

Crabby: F*ck off. Go away.

Crabby: Are you gone?

Crabby: Good.

(A minute or so later):

Crabby's Conscience: OK, now it's really time to go. Your caffeine will wear off.

Crabby: Shut up!

Crabby's Conscience: You'll be so happy once you're done.

Crabby: But I'll be so MISERABLE while I'm doing it! I'll go for a walk later. Scram!

(A few more minutes later)

Crabby's Conscience: So here's an idea.

Crabby: WTF? I said go away!

Crabby's Conscience: Suppose you just go to the gym and do a little of everything. A really quick aerobics. Only half your weights.

Crabby: But I'm supposed to do a long aerobics! And what about the other half of the weights? I can't do just part of a workout!

Crabby's Conscience: It's better than no workout. C'mon. Think of it as "fun sized." An "express" trip to the gym.

Crabby: You've been reading my blog! That's really sneaky. But hmmm, "fun sized"... that does sound oddly less miserable that a regular workout..."

In the end, Crabby McSlacker wound up working out for about half the time she normally does. So, kind of like what I did this morning (though 30 minutes is NOT half of a normal workout for me...I just mean I was way half-assed on the Elliptical and skipped stretching [bad girl!], crunches and focused more on the Jamie-Lynn controversy airing on CNN than on my exertion level.)

And now, I'm tired.

Is this a real woman or a doll?

Take a look at this photo and tell me - real person or doll? And who, exactly, do you think it is?

Bras for all your 2000 parts

Is your butt sagging? Droopy? In need of some lifting and separating? Well, then I've got just the thing for you. For your butt, I mean.

The butt bra.

This strappy little number, the Feel Foxy! web site promises, "Holds up the weight of the buttocks, lifts and defines the buttock’s curvature, maximizes small/flat derrieres, leaves no visible line under most clothing, enhances the effect of from fitting clothes," and more. What - you didn't know your tush needed an upgrade from an A to a C? Well, it does! You can also try this dreamy padded panty for instant bootyliciousness. Bottoms up! If only poor Jennifer Love Hewitt had known about this, maybe she could have avoided all that public scrutiny over her bum (Note: I am being sarcastic.)

For the man in your life, may I suggest the fabulously named BallBra? It's a harness for his highness! This contraption is basically a sling that lifts his package up for purposes I simply am not aware of. (Be careful not to confuse the BallBra with the BraBall - I did this and unwittingly wound up emotionally scarring my grandma with her lingerie-inspired Hanukkah gift.)

Lastly, if you've been surgically enhanced in the chestage area, a plastic surgeon has come to the rescue with the new Le Mystère No. 9 bra, designed especially for women with rounder, more projected breasts and two-inch-wide cleavage. Says the web site, "No9’s wires are a complete semi circle, the exact shape of the implant, allowing the augmented breast to fit snuggly within the wire shape." (PS Don't you just love how, in the photo, the women is lying comfortably on a bed of rocks?!"

Remember, if you don't support yourself, no one else will!

I highly suggest...

you head on over the my web site, www.lrdiaries.com

Do it!

"My mom would literally pry the spoon away"

That's what Kate Hudson (Goldie Hawn's daughter), who famously gained 70 lbs while pregnant, has to say in the new January issue of Vogue. Her full quote:

"I would be eating ice cream and my mom would literally pry the spoon away from me, saying, 'You've had enough to last you a lifetime.'"

It's not often that I truly believe stars when they make comments about, say, being the ugly kid in middle school, but for some reason, I totally believe Kate when she says this. And...it makes me like her more. Maybe because we have all so been there, preggers or not. In fact, last night, I was eating Cool Whip (don't judge!) and, a quarter-way through the contianer, I had to yell out loud, "Intervention!" Dan knew to come over, take the whipped topping away and stow it in the back of the freezer. Such a nice boy.

Dove love

Ladies! I;ve got two cool opportunities for y'all:

Dove "Reality Diaries" live chat

If you’re like me and love Dove's Campaign for Real Beauty, which I’ve blogged about in the past, then here’s a fun treat: The "Reality Diaries" series is hosting a live chat with the four featured young women on the site at 8pm EST tonight (Tues., Dec. 18th) and it should make for a lively discussion. Also present will be Jess, who used to write this blog!

I honestly believe Dove's CFRB has been a tremendous step forward in helping educate and empower young women. I mean – these are happy, healthy girls. So are these. Does this young woman look happy to you? No, she looks endangered and overpowered. Dove is trying to change the scene so we (and our daughters) see fewer ads that evoke thoughts of assualt or eating disorders and more that provoke discussion and enhance body image.

Dove's short video, “Evolution,” which showed an everyday pretty woman being morphed into a glamazon billboard model though the use of airbrushing and Photoshop, was eye-opening and is, in my opinon, a must-see for young girls. “Onslaught,” which depicts the everyday assault waged on us by the media, literally takes my breath away every time I see it. I feel like screaming, “That’s exactly how I feel!”

So I highly encourage those of you who are into the body image arena and trying to love that bod (and mind!) a bit more to tune in tonight. I am!

Also...

Wanna try the new iVillage challenge?

For any of you looking to jump start a get-healthy New Year’s resolution, iVillage Total Health is sponsoring a Community Challenge for motivation. If you sign up, you get:

-Daily tips from experts on changing your eating/workout/health habits for the better

-Cheat sheets highlighting nutritional superfoods, tips for boosting your confidence and styling advice for your body type

-Access to the Better Health Community Challenge message board, where you can chat with tons of other women

-Tools to calculate things like calories burned (if that’s your thing)

Making changes is often easier with the help of friends (real-life or "electronic" :-) so if group support helps get the ball rolling, this could be an awesome (and free!) opportunity.

Please do let me know if you dabble in either the iVillage Challenge or the Dove chat!

I'm a slaaave...to sugar?

We all know Britney likes junk food--Cheetos washed down with a Frappucino seem to be her own personal Breakfast of Champions. But is it a signal of some kind of addiction? Yesterday I was on the L in Chicago, reading the Chicago Tribune, and there was a small news item showing the pop star at her recent birthday bash, her white fur(ry) coat offset by a delish-looking chocolate cake. Next to the photo, a doctor who specializes in teaching men and women about the power of food, describes her eating behavior as ''very frightening'' and calls her ''a person who's completely addicted to sugar. This is like heroin for a junkie. She's literally on a roller coaster to hell.''

Whoa! Don't hold back, doc! Tell us what you really think! I do believe that food can turn into an addiction for some people--whether you're abusing it by eating too much or too little. Obviously, it's never really about the FOOD, but what those cream puffs represent, emotionally (comfort, sadness, emptiness, celebration, escape.) But on par with heroin? I admit, I don't know if this is true, medically-speaking, so I'm interested in hearing what WG readers have to say: Is sugar addictive for you? And if so, how bad does the craving get? Are we talking, "Three jelly beans will send me into a weekend-long binge" or "I notice if I have some cake at a birthday party, I get a little hyper and wind up eating an extra piece for no reason"?

Weekend update

For a woman who did pretty much close to nothing this snowy weekend in Chicago, it turns out I actually have quite a few tidbits of info to share with you. Some are interesting, others interesting to me, and some, I must warn you, are nauseating, so prepare.

1) The chocolate-covered spoon incident

Saturday evening, after a few rounds of date-night sushi and before falling asleep to Arrested Development, Dan and I cozied up with some hot cocoa as the driving snow rained down outside. As I hunted through the cabinets for mini-marshmallows, I happened upon one of those pretty spoons you get as stocking stuffers that are dipped in tons of melted chocolate, decorated with spinkles/coconut/M&Ms and hardened, wrapped, and given as chi-chi indulgent cocoa stirrers. As you swirl this sinful creation through your hot beverage, the chocolate melts. *Swoon*

The dilema: I had received this spoon two...ok, three years ago at a bridal shower. It looked more than a little broke-down and the chocolate had lost its sheen. And yet...

it was chocolate. And I wanted it. So, etiquette and common sense and pride be damned, I used it (had to first pry out the petrified marshmallows that had been used as decoration on it.) I am not proud of this, but my body made me do it.

Oh, I am so happy my body made me do it. The second it dipped beneath the fill-line of my sugar-free hot cocoa (previously sugar-free, at least), the outermost layer began to melt and ooze into a mouthwatering duvet of fudgy chocolate, which I slurped off like a candy cane and invited into my bloodstream like crack, only good. The rest of the evening is hazy - I remember dipping the spoon in a few more times, popping it quickly into my mouth like a man in the desert gulping up water found in a lone cactus.

Desperate? Yes. A turn-on for Dan? Probably not, as my front teeth kept gathering fudge. But delicious? YES.

2) My new toothbrush

Not to worry - my teeth shall not rot from all that sugar. This is because I have a new toothbrush and I. Am. Obessed. With. It. It's the new Crest SpinBrush - battery-operated, fun to use, powerful and slightly addictive. When I'm using it, all I can think is "I am making my mouth happy. I am making my mouth strong." I see it in ads and want to yell, "I have that!" I even dreamed about it a few nights ago. I need to get a grip.

3) The locker room nightmare (this gets nasty so either grab a bucket or proceed to Item 4)

We all know I am no stranger to locker room nastiness - I've virtually trained myself to hone in on it. Let's call it Ladar (ladies' room radar). Is was in the lotion/teeth-brushing area of my locker room and went to lube up post-shower on Sunday when I saw what is likely the most nasty, vile, nefarious and just downright WRONG display of public grooming in my life.

The woman was about 50-60 years old, totally naked and facing the mirror with one leg up on the counter. That's Strike One. Then I realized she was bent over, furiously studying something on the propped-up foot. Strike Two. With more blatant staring, I realized she was using razors - the cheap plastic ones provided for members - to (get ready) shave the callouses off of her toes.

I felt like screaming but scurried away in fear instead. Then I proceeded to tell every friend of mine about it because somehow, that makes it seem more real, like I wasn't hallucinating. I almost made my friend Trish, who has the stomach flu, throw up. Sorry, love! But this kind of traumatic event is too much for one woman to shoulder alone.

4) My Small Breasts and I

Continuing their body image documentary series, the BBC last night premiered My Small Breasts and I, which followed three women who are unhappy with their A Cups to say the last. (Laura, 22, actually said, "I feel grotesque having a flat chest. I'd love to feel more feminine. At the moment I'm stuck half way between a man and a woman because I don't have any boobs." When she uttered this, I audibly moaned, it made me so sad.)

Laura and two others tried a multitude of purported bust enhancers, from herbs that made one woman moody to phototherapy, in which nude photos are taken by a therapist and used to show the woman how beautiful she truly is (I actually wrote about this in Women's Health a while back - you can see the article here. I think the concept is so cool!) Also explored were surgical enhancement; a web site that allows women to solicit money from strangers to be used for breast augmentation (I wrote about this too, in my Huffington Post piece. I am SO on the boob tip these days!) and this crazy suctioning device that basically looks like two huge plungers attached to your chest and has to be work for 11 hours a day for three months to achieve an appaently temporary swelling effect.

Breasts are a subject that have long-fascinated me. I dedicated a chapter in LRD to them and typically read from that chapter at college talks because pretty much all women can related to some aspect - they're too big, too small, too lopsided, need too many sports bras or too many chicken cutlets. I'm a small B myself and I happen to love them...I can rock low V-neck tops without showing too much skin and often go braless (like now :-) as a fitted tank with a shelf bra will do just fine. I think this documentary did a good job of showing the complex relationships we women have these body parts, their tie to feminity and the sense of belonging, of being desired, that they bring. next week, BBC will explore the other extreme in My Large Breasts and Me (Grammatical pet peeve: Why change the "I" in My Small Breasts and I to "Me" in My Large Breasts and Me?) I'll be en route to Mexico so hopefully I'll catch it in a rerun.

That's it for me. Hope you all had fun-filled weekends!
xo,
Leslie

Gift guide, Part Deux

More gifts!....

Want cool workout clothes NOW?
Nau is a gorgeous new outdoor apparel company that makes good-looking, eco-conscious performance wear from organic or recycled materials (organic cotton, recycled polyester, cruelty-free wool, etc). Whether you ski, hike, bike, stretch or shvitz on a cardio machine, they’ve got stuff that’ll make you look cool and put-together…definitely an upgrade from, say, my orange cotton sports bra, 1994-era Gap shorts and tee shirt that reads “VARSITY CHEERLEADING - JESSICA!” (OK, so I’m living vicariously through my sister-in-law - you gotta problem with that?)

Nau (pronounced “now”) just opened a store in downtown Chicago and I love that they make cozy tops with thumb holes and pants that reach past my ankle. You can also buy non-workout apparel, like sexy-but-casual dresses and cute hoodie sweaters. The company uses the most sustainable methods available and 5% of every sale goes towards a humanitarian, environmental, or social charity that you, the buyer, determine (from among a pre-selected list, including Heifer International and Mercy Corps). I tried the Sequence Sleeveless Top, which has funky straps that highlight a toned back while providing good coverage in the front (I didn’t have to tug at it to cover my torso during a 90-minute Yoga class - a feat considering my torso is longer than Gary Coleman himself. The Sequence Pant is a treat to wear, too – the waistband has a subtle crossover V that dips below the belly button (not to worry – full coverage in back eliminates Downward Dog Plumber’s Crack).

(https://www.nau.com/, Top, $39, Pants, $60)

Bounce with me, bounce with me
OK, so we all know how obsessed I became this summer with adidas’s running skirt. I even dreamed of appearing in a commercial for them – a goal not yet achieved, but oh how I wish it were so.

My TV debut aside, adidas has a brand new running shoe out called the Supernova Cushion 7, an improved version of (you guessed it!) the Supernova Cushion 6. It has an antimicrobial step-in sockliner, is lightweight and breathable and comes in varying widths.

(http://www.adidas.com/campaigns/usrunning/content/, $90)



Lean and mean
The first (and, admittedly, only) time I’ve done Pilates in a studio, I was taking advantage of a free-session offer at a new neighborhood place. To be honest, it was just eh, but I think that’s because it was an intro class and the teacher was a) going way easy on us and b) trying to show us a zillion different moves in an hour. Plus, we didn’t get a chance to try the torture device-looking Reformer, which is really the only reason I’d want to take classes there. I do recall a core move called The Hundred, in which we lifted out legs in the air so they formed a V shape with our torso and then vigorously fluttered our arms up and down by our sides, quickly breathing as if in labor.
But I know people who absolutely swear by the exercise and have seen a good number of long, lean torsos which claim to owe their success to Pilates. So I gave it another shot with the Gaiam Pilates Body Sculpting Workout Kit. Hosted by certified Pilates instructor Ana Cabán, the half-hour DVD teaches you how to properly use the 8" lavender PVC sculpting ball which comes with the kit – moves target your hips, butt, abs and thighs. You could definitely bring the combo with you while traveling (the ball is virtually indestructible – my husband, who has a bad back, has lately taken to writhing around on the ground with the orb under his shoulder blade, alternatively shouting out expletives and “Oh, yeah, that’s the spot.” And frankly, anything that makes my guy do that is a welcome addition in our household.)

(www.anacaban.com, $20.00)



See the light
As luck would have it, the night my husband and I rented Waitress with Keri Russell, our DVD player was on the fritz. And by “on the fritz,” I mean we JUST had it fixed but I neglected to properly write down instructions on how to make it work and all I have is a random paper towel, on which I’ve cryptically written “Component 1, change ONKYO to DVD.”

So it was fate that I’d received a sample of the Coby DVD 7307 that day. It’s a lightweight, portable DVD player that you can take with you on long airplane trips so you needn’t be bored to tears by Jumanji or whatever family-friendly flick they’re playing. The 7-inch screen is small enough to keep your neighbor’s prying eyes away, and yet Dan and I were able to cuddle together in bed, prop the puppy on a pillow and watch The Actress Formerly Known As Felicity in all of her pie-making glory. (The screen also swivels 180 degrees so you can fold it flat, tablet style). This would be great to have if you’re stuck in a hotel room and wanted to do a yoga video or maybe even the Ana Cabán Pilates Body Sculpting Workout Kit!

(http://www.cobyusa.com/_en/prod_item.php?item=TFDVD7307&pcat=dvd&pscat=port_dvd&pscat2= ; $134.99)

Give good gift - Part One

The things I do for you lovelies.

For the last two weeks, my home has been turned upside-down as a result of FedEx and UPS packages arriving faster and in equally plentiful amouts as Hannah Montana fans flocking to a Miley freaking Cyrus concert. In the boxes and bags? Ideas for holiday gifts - all with some kind of fitness or self-care angle. Now, even though our second bedroom currently looks like an 86-year-old compulsive hoarder has taken up residence, I'm not exactly complaining, because it's been ridonculously fun trying out these babies in an effort to present WG readers with some cool ideas for holiday presents.

Yes, there were some duds. (One PR person - a guy [duh] - tried to convince me that Botox gift cards would be massively appealing as a health-conscious gift. Read about my reaction to his e-blubberimg on the Huffington Post - the story is titled "All I Want For Christmas is a Shot of Paralyzing Toxins to the Forehead.) But there were also a boatload of funky ideas (in a good way).

So if you wanna get your girlfriend/mom/self something besides a candle this year, check out the innovative and fresh products below (more to come tomorrow). Be sure to post your thoughts and let me know if you've tried any of these. Now it's the weekend, so git tuh buyin'!

Can you hear me now?
For a long time now, I’ve suspected something is wrong with my ears because I absolutely, for the life of me, have never been able to get those little ear buds to stay in my ear. They just flop out like eager little fish launching themselves overboard to avoid being eaten. So I was eager but cautiously optimistic when trying AirDrives - new earphones which hook and mold around/behind your ear and are designed so the speakers lay outside the ear rather than in it. This is especially good for women who run outside because you can jam to JT’s Sexy Back while also hearing traffic or people approaching from behind. AirDrives were conceived in an effort to help reduce Noise Induced Hearing Loss, a growing problem largely attributed to the increasing use of mobile music (yes, strange guy rocking out the bus to Depeche Mode, I’m talking to YOU!)

I wore these on the Elliptical because it is too freaking cold out to run and guess what? They stayed in! I was plugged into the Today Show and managed to hear what Al Roker was laughing about while also enjoying the John Mayer song being piped in over the gym's soundsystem...all while reading a magazine and working out. What a multitasker I am! The music wasn’t so loud that it bothered my neighbors (at least no one shot me dirtier looks than normal) and I looked WAY cool with my high-tech ear gadgets.

(http://www.airdrives.com/lowkey.html, $99.99)

BAM!
How can you not love Emeril? That innocent-yet-mischievous grin, his crazy passion for life and food, his ridiculously cute (if not somewhat confusing) press pics. Even though he’s prone to preparing dishes dripping with chocolate sauce or dinners with names like My-Oh-My Spaghetti Pie or Crawfish étouffée (“smothered crawfish”), the guy still cares about our health. Which is why he’s slapped his mug on the sleek, stainless steel Emerilware™ Steamer. It contains a center steaming compartment for larger foods (think whole lobster tails…dream big), two steamer baskets for a variety of smaller foods (broccoli and squash) and a top tray that can be used with the other compartments or alone. The individual steaming compartments mean you can cook different foods (up to 40 cups’ worth!) at the same time, without mixing flavors, and a Turbo boost button helps recover steam if, like me, you can’t help but sneak a peek every four minutes and wind up disrupting the entire cooking process.

(http://www.emerilappliances.com/steamer.asp, $99.99)

H20hhh
As I’ve mentioned before, I live in a state of chronic dehydration. Water? What’s that? Oh, you mean the frozen little cubes that cool down my Diet Coke? So I was psyched to try the PUR Flavor Options pitcher. It sits in your fridge, just chilling, so you have tasty, flavored (but sugar- and calorie-free) agua at the ready (strawberry, raspberry or peach.) Besides making it easier and more appealing to sip water over chemical juice, it cuts down on the need for bottled water, another trick that we of the Order of Dehydration are known to rely on. So you’re being environmentally friendly and healthy. The PUR pitcher has celeb cache, too: At a green gifting suite for the Emmy’s, Rebecca Gayheart said she was planning on giving them away as Christmas gifts for. Rebecca is married to McSteamy which means, if you use this pitcher, the Six Degrees rule puts you closer to Eric Dane than pretty much anything else will.

(http://www.purflavoroptions.com/; $29.99, two-pack flavor cartridge $9.99)



Don’t get lippy with me
Pull out your fave lipstick or that lip balm you’ve been smearing on all month. Do you see an ingredient called carmine? I freaking hope not because apparently, this coloring agent - which is FDA approved - is made of BOILED, DRIED, CRUSHED BEETLES! Nasty. But it’s very commonly used; chances are you and I have at some point chowed on beetle paste or used in our food. Blech.

That’s why I was excited to try Eco Tints lip balm. Carmine- and lead-free, these cute little babies are over 80% certified organic, made in a solar-powered plant and use no petrochemicals. They come in tinted form (I‘m partial to Plush Red - just a hint of tint); a caffeinated version for sluggish afternoons; sporty SPF; and also attached to various clips and leashes, so you can hook ‘em on your purse, parka zipper, whatever!

(http://www.ecolips.com/Products.aspx ; $9.95 for a three-pack)

Have a merry, merry citrus!
Just one whiff of that delish lemon+sage combo and you know…it’s bliss! The company packed up a variety of products with the signature sent (body scrub, body butter, shower gel and soap) in a cute holiday gift set called Merry Citrus. This stuff leaves you smelling fresh, feeling soft and good enough to eat! (www.blissworld.com, $38)

Also, bliss has a limited edition body butter out that us “infused with the fresh fragrance of just-fallen flakes.” IE it smells like snow! Arctic berry and grapeseed extract make the cream rich and unobtrusively scented, plus it has a very subtle sparkle (think just had sex, not all night rave). (www.blissworld.com, $32)

Watch yourself
If you’re a techie and like fitness gadgets that blink and read your mind while feeding you need-to-know-info, you’ll be drawn to the MOTIVA fitness watch. The watch, which is black with little red touches, monitors your heart rate, fitness intensity, calories taken in and burned – all without needing to strap anything across your chest. It also has a program which helps one shed a pound per week by counting down 3,500 calories (the equivalent of one pound of weight). The result? It will MOTIVAte you (I cannot take credit for the pun - it was on the company’s press release.)

I tested the MOTIVA on a Friday morning while working out on the Stepmill. Prior to getting on, I checked and my resting heart rate was 59. (Note: This is actually correct and no, I am not dead. I just have a low HR that often precludes me from donating blood until they confirm that I’m not a zombie and just in good shape). But by the time I was 30 minutes in, my ticker was up to 170BPM - 85% of my max heart rate (which is where it should be). I don’t normally track my heart rate but I do know that a pace at which you’re fairly out of breath but could talk if you wanted is good, and that’s what I was.

At the end of my workout, I glanced at the watch to see what kind of juicy nuggets of info it would offer me and it said I’d burned 390 calories. This shocked me because I pretty much never look at Calories Burned on exercise machines and 390 is, like, equivalent to a few packs of oatmeal, skim milk and some Swedish Fish (my own personal breakfast of champions). So I punched a button on the Stepmill to see the calorie output there and it read 510. Guess which one I believed? The cold, impersonal machine which simply regards me as a stranger using it to let off steam, or my warm, friendly little MOTIVAtor? The watch, duh!

(Dicks Sporting Goods stores or www.miowatch.com/3500; $99.99)

More to come!!...

A Whopper of an ad

I mean, I just don't even know how to respond to this disgusting, misogynistic Burger King ad.

Maybe you have some choice words?

Oh, this one is charming, too.

The Worst Food in America

Men's Health has a great/troubling story in the current issue (cutie John Krasinski is on the cover!) called The 20 Worst Foods in America. Offender Numero Uno? Outback Steakhouse Aussie Cheese Fries with Ranch Dressing.

As the author points out, these babies pack 900 calories, 182 grams of fat and 240 grams of carbs in all their deep-fried, cheese-smothered, bacon-topped glory.

Other top baddies?

* P.F. Chang's Pork Lo Mein (1,820 calories, 127 grams of fat, as many carbs as five servings of pasta)

* Uno Chicago Grill Chicago Classic Deep Dish Pizza, personal size (2,310 calories, 162 g fat, 4,470 mg of sodium -- all equivalent to downing 18 slices of Domino's Crunchy Thin Crust cheese pizza!)

* All of the moms out there will love this: Macaroni Grill nabbed the Worst Kids' Meal Award with their Double Macaroni 'n' Cheese, which MH says is "like feeding your kid 1 & 1/2 boxes of Kraft mac 'n' cheese."

This reminds me of a story I wrote for Women's Health a few years ago called Restaurant Revolution, where I literally ate my way through 10 chains like Chili's, Outback and TGI Friday's, all in search of the healthiest offerings at each. (Read it here. It may take a while to load.) A tasty assignment? Of course! But it also opened my eyes to the caloric atrocities of Chili's Awesome Blossom, Red Lobster's cheddar bisquits and more. I also learned first-hand that if an establishment deems a certain dish "healthy," it may very well be the most fat bomb-like item on the menu (Read about my encounter at Cheesecake Factory while ordering the Miso-Glazed Salmon, which our team of nutritionists agreed would be one of the three healthiest options. Not so much.)

Do any of you see items on the Men's Health list that you've indulged in, on a regular or even biannual basis? I used to eat at Chili's all the time so I'm sure I've downed a few gazillion calories' worth of ice cream there. P.F. Chang's almost always sends me to the bathroom for hours, so I stick with brown rice and veggies there. As a Chicagoan, I apologize for the pizza debacle at Uno's, but I just can't give up deep dish veggie from Art of Pizza as an occasional PMS treat/must-have. A girl has to draw the line somewhere.

Those aren't cupcakes!

After the dramatic BBC America documentary last week, Super Skinny Me, I was all set to watch this week's featured show, The 476-lb Teenager. However, an extra round of baked latkes and icing-drenched dreidel cake in the suburbs made me a wee bit late in getting home, so I only caught half.

But I was pleasantly surprised by the show that came on after SSM: the movie Calendar Girls. I'd heard the buzz when the film came out a few years ago but never saw it...but I'm so glad I did on Sunday! If you haven't seen it, the movie is about a real-life group of older women who strip for a charity calender in Britain. Chaos ensues as news of their stunt spreads worldwide. Naked 50-year-olds! Naked 60-year-olds! These feisty, brave women should've been in my book!

I love how, bit by bit, the ladies slowly shed their inhibitions along with their clothes for a worthy cause (one of them lost her husband to cancer.) Whether camoflauged by a bush and pruning sheers or barely concealed by a tower of cupcakes, their grace and inner beauty caught the attention of men nationwide while bringing comfort to other women--be they cancer survivors or simply women struggling with their body image.

As we've all heard in the media lately, negative body image is a growing problem for women other than teenagers. In July, a story broke about how more and more experts are encountering women in their 30s, 40s, 50s, and older seeking help for anorexia and bulimia - some treatment centers are even creating special programs for more mature patients. Many of these women have struggled with previous body/weight issues and the stress of a divorce or loss of a loved one retriggers the disordered thinking. It can also simply be the pressure of living in today's pro-youth society as an older woman. Childbirth may have led to major changes in the way one's body looks; even gravity just kinda takes its toll.

Some women deal well with the changes in their body as they age; other fall into the trap of self-loathing and perpetual dieting. What I loved about Calendar Girls was how their nudity was, in their minds, secondary to the real goal. Wobbly bits be damned! While researching Locker Room Diaries, I interviewed many women in their 70s and 80s who had such wise advice to impart about aging and accepting one's body...how it changes from an object to be lusted after to a tool to let you live you live healthily and happily. That chapter was so inspiring for me - it gave me a lot to look forward to.

On the mature-and-feeling-grovy tip, I'm reminded of a recent New York Times article called The Fonda Factor, which explored the mushrooming industry of Jazzercising Baby Boomers. There's a whole new crop of fitness instructors leading women in their 40s, 50s and 60s through tough DVD workouts, like Cathe Friedrich, age 43 and power walker Leslie Sansone, 45, who has appeared on iVillage as well.

And who can forget Becky Love, the 91-(now 92, maybe)-year-old yoga instructor I interviewed for my book and spoke about here? Don't even get me started!

Beauty at every age, indeed!

Fun facts:
Jane Fonda released her first VHS in 1982.
Kathy Smith is now 55 and Denise Austin is 50. Tamilee Web, where you at?!

Yummy gummy

When my brother Jeff became a man at the tender young age of 13 (Bar Mitzvah! Woo!), a family friend bought him stock in Wrigley. As in, the gum people. And so, every year around Christmastime (irony?), he would receive a large box of spearmint or wintergreen sticks, along with a statement showing him how his $100 investment had grown that year. It was always an exciting time at the Goldman household because, I mean, free gum. Then my mom would toss a few packs into the candy drawer in the kitchen, turning all M&Ms, Swedish Fish and pretzels into mint-tinged versions of their former selves.

To this day, I still really like gum - especially when someone offers you a stick of a cool new brand and you get to pluck it from their pack or poke it through a foil pouch or (and this hardly ever happens any more but when it does, I freak out) unwrap an entire chunky piece of bubble gum. Because if somebody is willing to give you an entire piece of their five-piece pack, that means they like you 20% more than anyone else. Duh! But did you know that chewing gum can actually be healthy for you? Sure it freshens your breath (though personally, my breath smells like cotton candy and sugar plum fairies, even post-garlic bread) but sugar-free brands like Orbit (love their Mint Mojito), Eclipse and Extra recently gained the ADA’s Seal of Acceptance, meaning they’re clinically proven to help fight cavities, strengthen teeth and reduce harmful plaque acids. Those funny British “Dirty Mouth?” ads are just an amusing bonus.

Other fun benefits of chewing the sticky stuff:

*It can improve concentration and focus - so much so that the U.S. Armed Forces have supplied chewing gum to soldiers ever since World War 1. Also, remember how Michael Jordan (mmm) used to always be going to town on his gum? THAT’s why he was such a slam dunk pro! There's science to back this up: A research study conducted at the University of Northumbria (my safety school) showed chewing gum while performing memory tests appeared to improve people's ability to learn, retain and retrieve information.

*It burns calories. Mayo Clinic research shows that just moving your jaw up and down incinerates 11 calories per hour. Not a lot, but for a talented Chatty Cathy like myself who can walk, talk and chew gum at the same time, it basically means Wrigley is a better friend to my waistline that Weight Watchers.

*Gum also helps, diet-wise, by diverting your attention away from higher calorie snacks. It’s nowhere near as fun or tasty to bite into a Twinkie if your mouth tastes like mint. And on the Wrigley web site, I found a 2007 study published in the journal Appetite which found that chewing gum prior to an afternoon snack can reduce hunger, diminish cravings for sweets, and decrease snack intake by 36 calories.

* It eases tension and stress, making you feel as calm and serene as this chick. And if you only need to see you therapist every other week as a result, that means gum can save you about $3600 per year in psych fees (I’m speaking hypothetically, of course.)

So be sure to toss a pack or two onto the conveyer belt the next time you're checking out at Target. Also, gum is a fun stocking stuffer! Stay tuned to Weighting Game for some fun holiday gift ideas coming up...heh, heh, heh...

Does Santa need gastric bypass?

Oy vey.

Apparently Santa's eaten one too many midnight cookies and now he's catching flack for his muffin top.

The acting U.S. Surgeon General recently said in an interview that Kris Kringle needs to slim down - as a role model for children, the doctor reasons, Claus should be in better shape than your everyday fat man in a red felt suit.

In other saggy Santa news, Tim Connaghan, founder of the International University of Santa Claus, has actually surveyed more than 300 Santas and - to the surprise of, well, nobody - he found the average weight was 256 pounds.

Adding to the glut of info surrounding Santa's gluttony, the Amalgamated Order of Real Bearded Santas (oh, what I would do to be a fly on the wall during their annual holiday party) agrees with the acting Surgeon General that Santa is too jolly for his own good. The AORBS has suggested to its 800 members that they lose weight in time for their upcoming July convention, in order to “set an example.”

While I agree the childhood and adult obesity are absolutely problems that need to be addressed, I'm just not sure if attacking a fictitious holiday symbol is the most effective or practical way to go about it. Surely there are broader-based public health programs to help teach kids about healthy eating, as opposed ganging up on Santa? Maybe I'm not the best person to answer the following question, because I grew up spending Christmas at a movie theater, followed by Chinese food along with 100 other people with last names like Rubenstein and Rosenberg, but: Wouldn't a skinny Santa change the feeling of the holiday? Make it, I don't know, so California?

Ho, ho, ho!

Shelley the Robot is here to pump (clap) you up!

I have seen the future, and it is automated exercise nagging.

Researchers at Stanford University just released results of a San Francisco-area program called Community Health Advice by Telephone, or CHAT. Individuals were divided into three groups: People who were called by trained health educators; people who received computer calls; and those who heard from nobody. After a year of daily reminders, both of the called groups were exceeding 150 minutes of exercise/week. (If the computer rang you up, you'd average 157 minutes/minute while if an actual non-cyborg called, you'd typically log 178 minutes. The no-call group averaged only 118 minutes.)

I think this is a great idea, actually. Just the other day, Northwestern called me to remind me of a doctor's appointment...well, the Northwestern hospital automatron called.

"You. Have. An. Appointment. On. Monday. December 10. At. 9:15. A.M.," she told me in short, breathless spurts (my robot was a she. That's just how I roll.) "Do. You. Want. To. Keep. This. Appointment? If. Yes. Press. 'One'." I dramatically pulled the phone from my ear, pointed my finger and stabbed the "1" button. Immediately I felt, somehow, more secure - like I had just totally sealed the deal on my appointment and nobody- NOBODY - would get my time slot now.

The interactive nature of my call may have something to do with the success of the workout phone reminders. For example, when exercisers picked up the phone, they were asked to press a certain number to confirm they had reached their goals in the previous week (running X miles or walking Y minutes a day). This probably served as positive reinforcement...you get a call and physically confirm that yes, you kicked butt that week. And it makes you want to do more.

Personally, I'd love to get phone or email reminders to go shvitz it up at the gym - although now that I work out early in the morning (still loving it, thankyouverymuch), that would have to be one early bird of a robot to call me before the sun comes up. But I could still benefit from a call telling me to "Do. Ten. Pushups. Right. Now." I swear, so long as I wasn't in a Nordstroms or Starbucks, I'd drop and eek out as many as possible!

Would you want a phone call telling you to get hustling? Do you think it would inspire you to start moving or could you see yourself becoming annoyed and quickly screening all calls coming from 1-800-WORKOUT? Hmm...maybe Weighting Game can start expanding her services....

Fit vs. fat

This debate has been going on a bit more in recent years, and a new study published in the Journal of the American Medical Association lends further credence to it. According to University of South Carolina researchers, ‘tis better to be fit and fat that skinny and sluggish.

Over the course of 12 years, researchers studied more than 2600 American adults over the age of 60 and found that regardless of their weight, those who engaged in regular cardio lived longer than those who were sedentary. Even obese individuals reaped rewards from regular, moderate exercise in the form of reduced risk of heart attack, stroke and other illnesses.

This is essentially the first study to show that cardiovascular fitness helps men and women over 60 increase their lifespan, regardless of body fat.

"Fitness and fatness are two different things," Dr. Steven N. Blair, a professor at the University of North Texas and lead author of the paper, said in a Baltimore Sun story. "You can be fat and be fit - and if you exercise, you are going to get some protection."

These results shouldn't be interpreted by peeps as an excuse to hunker down on the couch with a case on bonbons. As we all know, extreme overweight/obesity is a risk factor for all sorts of diseases, including heart disease, high blood pressure, cancer, diabetes, joint problems, and more. But it is encouraging for those who want to become healthier/shed weight but feel intimidated by governmental guidelines for exercising. Taking a walk at lunch, dancing with friends, choosing stairs over the elevator, walking messages to a coworker instead of emailing - all of these things add up in a good way.

If you’ll recall, we discussed a similar angle of this topic a few months ago, when I introduced you to Sarah Watson of ‘Fat Girl on a Bike.” Sarah is the self-described “typical high-energy fat chick who doesn't listen to people who tell her what she can't accomplish.” At 27, she competes in triathalons at a weight much higher than what one would typical peg a triathalete at. I know some readers made comments regarding her weight seeming inexplicable when considering her activity level. This new research backs up Sarah - and other athletes like her - bigtime.

There's also the issue of "skinny fat" people (God, I hate labels, but so be it). These are people that appear rail thin - some supermodels come to mind - but actually have no muscle mass and get winded walking up two stairs. Often you'll hear these women saying “Really, I eat everything and never work out - I just can't put on weight." The problem is that in addition to enjoying fried food everyday, they're going to suffer from lower bone density and lean muscle loss.

My hunch is that many, many women, if given a choice, would jump at the chance to be a skinny person who doesn't have to workout, but from a health standpoint, it's better to have some meat on your bones and go hiking. Thoughts?

BTW I was watching (don’t Judge) The Bad Girls’ Club, Part 2 on Oxygen the other night and sqeualed with delight when Tanisha proclaimed herself “Phat, PHAT - Pretty Hot and (expletive) Temptin.” To see the drama go down, watch this. Warning: Bad language, bad TV.

Hungry, Hungry Hank

If you’re fed up with Bratz dolls and think Barbie promotes negative ideas about women’s bods (but c’mon…she can do math!) then perhaps this game will sufficiently muck up your child’s relationship between food and happiness. Hungry Hank!™ is a new board game for preschoolers designed to teach the fundamentals of healthy eating and exercise.

How does Hank accomplish such a Herculean task?

By teaching little kids that donuts make you blow up! Literally!

According to the web site, here’s how the game works: One full trip around the board is a day in Hungry Hank’s life. Hank encounters a variety of food choices for breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks and maybe even dessert. Of course, he also need to get his sweat on, so he'll need plenty of exercise – carried out by the child him or herself.

“Each time you land on a food space, pump Hungry Hank the number of times indicated by pressing the big green button by Hungry Hank's feet. For example, landing on a bowl of cereal and a banana for breakfast is 1 pump. Two donuts and chocolate milk for breakfast - that's 3 pumps! All food spaces require at least 1 pump, but you will see some require a lot more! Every time Hungry Hank eats, his arms flap, he burps or grunts and his belly grows.”

Should you (or your child) land on an exercise space, it’s time to get up and replicate the exercise HH is doing, like eight Jumping Jacks. Ultimately, though, no amount of pushups or windmills will save you if you happen to be the unlucky player to land on the food space which causes Hungry Hank to pop, ending the game along with his life.

As the web site ominously warns, “You don’t want to be the one to make Hungry Hank pop!”

I like the idea of a game that encourages kids to make smart decisions and stay healthy. In fact, I just saw this new indoor bike that kids can ride while playing a video game – they have to pedal to keep going in the game. But Hungry Hank seems to be promoting the idea that foods can be divided into “good” and “bad” categories which, at age four, shouldn’t be an issue. A preschooler can have a donut or chocolate milk. Parents, in fact, can have a donut or chocolate milk, albeit they are normally recommended as once-in-a-while foods.

But the mindset of this game is well summed-up, I think, by Junkfood Science writer Sandy Szwarc: “Players come away learning that foods, especially ‘bad’ foods, make them fat. The message being illustrated is that when a food is eaten, they must purge by expending a certain number of calories in exercise to avoid getting fat. Calorie counting before they can count.”

Maybe it would be better if Hank didn’t have to physically explode as a result of his eating habits. I’m not exactly Hasbro's proudest, so I don’t know what the best change would be. Of course, I am happy to see public health efforts aimed at combatting childhood obesity so maybe I should cut Hank some slack. After all, I used to be obsessed with Hungry Hungry Hippos and I didn’t develop an eating disorder. Oh wait....

PS Thanks to WH reader Hungry Waif for the tip!

Dear Man Who Blows His Nose in His Towel‏,

Yes, I am talking to you. YOU. The man who uses the white cotton towels at my gym as his personal Kleenex. What are you doing? I mean, really. Do you not think I can see you? Do you thinmk your loud loogie-cough and ensuing snort is so covert that it doesn't draw the attention of everyone around you?

Because it does. And sir, it is nasty. Find a tissue. I may have to use that towel one day.

Oh, and Dear Madame Who Blows Her Nose in the Shower Stall Next To Me... You need to stop. The shower head is not designed to flush away your snot. Were you raised in a barn? Or somewhere without proper noseblowing materials? I really, really do not want to rinse off next to someone making those kinds of noises.

And lastly, Dear M'am Who Sits Naked on the Locker Room Stool: Cease and desist. Unless you are in the privacy of your own bathroom, there should always be a physical barrier between your bum and a seat of any kind. Even a toddler knows that.

Thank you,The Management (aka Weighting Game)

Super Skinny Me

Like I mentioned, I was able to watch the documentary Super Skinny Me last night and all I can say is - whoa.

For those of you who didn't catch it, watch this clip first and then come on back.

Basically, the documentary covers two British journalists, Kate and Louise, who, playing off of Morgan Spurlock's Supersize Me, try a slew of weight loss tactics to see if they can get to a "Size 0" (which, I believe, is a UK Size 0, or a US Size 4.) Both women are of a healthy weight before they embark on their medically supervised journey, which included - among other things - the Master Cleanse Diet (lemonade, cayenne pepper, maple syrup and water - that's actually ground-up lemon rind you see Kate eating in the clip); protein shakes, colonics; excessive exercise; watercress soup; wrapping themselves in Saran Wrap and running in a sauna; and more. The result: A difficult-to-watch but rubberneck-inducing hour of witnessing two women basically aiming to give themselves an eating disorder.

Kate, seen here, seemed to get sucked into the ED mentality much more easily than Louise. By the end of the first two weeks, she'd dropped a whopping 14 pounds. She opts for more colonics than recommended and starts "playing around" with laxatives. At a dinner party (where she's eating only raw foods while her friends indulge in foie gras), one woman compliments her on how good she looks. Sound familar? This happens in our culture all the time - lose a few pounds and the compliments just keep coming, fueling the fire. This can be motivating for someone losing weight in a heathy fashion but a disorder person, it wreaks mental havoc. Kate admits that "after having the shit sucked out of [her] for a week,...food becomes fraught with problems” and “I’ve become quite the anorexic now.”

Louise, on the other hand, seems to be able to keep a clear eye on the absurdity of it all. She loses 7.5 lbs in the first two weeks by workng out with a trainer and choking down nasty-looking watercress soup (if it worked for Elizabeth Hurley...) As Louise begins to lose weight, she notices her curves diminishing. She's not happy. “I don’t feel womanly," she tells the camera. "I was probably this thin when I was 18. Ben (her boyfriend), when he cuddles me, he can feel my rib cage and my back and goes ‘Blah!’” Louise gets a rash on her neck as a result of nutritional deficiencies and the severe stress of the diet (I guess gulping nothing but protein shakes while devoting two hours to exercise a day will do that.) And even though her pants size is plummeting - the goal of this whole project, after all - she somehow manages to keep her priorities straight. At one point, she visits some disturbing pro-ana websites and is driven to tears by the thought of what certain women will do to themselves to attain a certain idealized goal.

Essentially, the extreme dieting disrupts both women's lives - their jobs, their socializing, their relationships. They become chronically fatigued and obsessed with the number on the scale. They think about sweets all the time, have to bring special food with them wherever they go, report feeling angry and miserable. These sentiments are echoed by a 15-year-old, inpatient anorexia sufferer, who talks with Louise about her iillness, saying that when she looks at pictures of (a pre-pregnancy) Nicole Ritchie, "it feels unfair that I have to put on weight..but they (celebs) can be thin."

With just one week to go, Kate checks in with her doctor who, upon learning she has begun purging, sends her to an ED specialist. Remember, this was a woman who did not have an eating disorder just weeks ago. As it turns out, this whole experiment has triggered a sort of "pre-eating disorder." Kate had gone through some unfortunate weight and self-esteem issues when younger and the sudden dieting retriggered her anxiety. thankfully, the doctor instructs her to discontinue the project, and she complies.

At the end, Louise throws a party for her friends to see how many sizes she’s dropped. The whole scene was actually quiet disturbing, even though I do believe she stayed relatively sane. Originally a UK Size 12, she tried on her pre-Super Skinny Me jeans and they hang off of her. Everyone Oohs and Ahs. She goes behind a little folded dressing door and begins trying on pants, each time a bit smaller, each time emerging to show her newly shruken frame to the partygoers. Eventually she gets into Size 00 (US Size 2). The voiceover explains that a size this small is meant to fit a six-year-old. She zips them up and looks just awful - like a litle doll or something. There is a great big smile on her face. She has attained her goal. But luckily, she wastes no time in whipping those suckers off and asking for champagne and cake. “I’d rather be comfy in my size 10s oir 12s and have a glass of wine or fish and chips," she says - and I believe she means it. She has gone from 129 lbs to 115 lbs in four weeks.

Two weeks later, the weight is quickly returning to both journalists' bodies. They have been in starvation mode, after all, and now that food is being reintroduced, their systems are grabbing onto anything they can. Lousie is happy about it - "Dieting is such a miserable world” - but I'm not fully convinced Kate is on the road to a speedy recovery.

These women risked their lives to participate in a jaw-dropping social commentary on how women view food and weight. Of course, they are adults and I'm sure proper consent was obtained prior to starting. I'm also sure neither of them thought they'd become someone who actually clapped when two pounds of poop was flushed out of them after a colonic. I'm glad I watched the show because it proved to me how badly I NEVER want to go back to that kind of mentality. But I will say, it was very difficult to watch and I can see how, like the HBO documentary THIN it could be triggering for others. If you have the chance, I would suggest watching it so you can see a well-painted portrait of just how quickly a mental disorder-type mindset can take hold.

If you saw Super Skinny Me, please do leave your thoughts here.

Can you believe she got engaged with THIS BUTT?! (Note: I'm being SARCASTIC)

Jennifer Love Hewitt has been catching a lot of flack in the media for some unflattering photos of her which have surfaced. In them, she's wearing a black two-piece bikini, enjoying a swim in the ocean. Like nearly 100% of women in the U.S., Jennifer has a tush. She needs it to sit on. To walk. To generally go about a normal life. Now, like nearly 99% of U.S. women, Jennifer's butt is not completely, totally smooth, free of all imperfections. This does not mean she is fat!

Is the photo the most flattering pic I've ever seen of her? Probably not. But if I had creepy men following me on the beach with long-lens photos, I would probably freak out. She's at least dealing with fame and not letting it run her life - she's in the ocean, hugging her new fiance, living her life.

Well, look what it gets you - name-calling and humiliation.

I decided to not post the image here, because I don't want to feed the frenzy. Suffice it to say, her butt looks like my butt in a bikini - a little cellulite, yes, but not The End Of The World.

The actress addressed the body controversy on her official MySpace page (why I know her MySpace page, I have no idea):

Thursday, November 29, 2007

About my Vacation... and all the pictures of it online.
Current mood: annoyed

This is the last time I will address this subject.

I've sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women's bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image.

A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful.

What I should be doing is celebrating some of the best days of my life and my engagement to the man of my dreams, instead of having to deal with photographers taking invasive pictures from bad angles. I know what I look like, and so do my friends and family. And like all women out there should, I love my body.

To all girls with butts, boobs, hips and a waist, put on a bikini – put it on and stay strong.

Xoxo

JLH