Personal trainers are for wimps......like me (The Extended Remix)

Have you ever noticed how many muscles have to fire just to get you out of a chair? IF you're like me, you have no clue. You just get up, taking your gut with you, and you don't even notice how much effort it took your body to gain momentum just to schlep over to the copy machine.

Ignorance is somewhat blissful, because that's all over for me. I know exactly how much it takes to get out of a chair because my sore as all hell muscles have been showing me for over 24 hours. It's my body's way of thanking me for the extraordinary personal training session we had on Sunday.

Now before I go any further, I should probably provide some context. All 2 of my loyal readers surely think that I am a svelte, uber-hottie whose body of superior work is represented publicly by a Beyonce-like figure.

Wrong.

I recently stepped on the scale and discovered that my weight had......well....risen. It had risen to a point of discomfort. How much do I weigh? I could tell you but then I'd have to gouge your eyes out with a shrimp fork. I will only refer to my high weight by its Native American tribal name:

Oh Hell No. Henceforth refered to as OHN.

OHN sent me right out to pick up the Abs Diet, The Abs Diet for Women, The Abs Diet for Bears and the Abs Diet for Walruses, just to cover all my bases. I've measured my waist with a tape measure, shocked that it was able to make the whole trip. I've calculated by BMI, which pretty much said 'DAAAAYUMM!' but considering that I'm at OHN, not a total surprise.

This brings us back to our training session. My trainer, who I will refer to as The General (TG), is a friend of my sister's. Great guy, super nice. The General's Wife (TGW) is also great and her body is simply banging. At a recent party, the BF and I talking with TG about exercising and TG revealed that he believes dumbbells and weight machines are "the devil." While dumbbells and machines isolate muscles for movement they do not assist in strengthening the tendons and other assorted bodily goodness that hold our musculature together. As someone who has fancied herself a runner in the past, prior to reaching OHN, and subject to knee pain, I was intrigued. Could the quad machine have been a foe of recovery? Has everything we've been taught about strength training been a lie?

The BF and I decided to do a dual training session with TG with assistance from TGW. My main apprehension was the ever-doable push up. Upper body strength is not my forte. The BF told me that it would be fine and that I wouldn't be compared to him, super Muay Thai practitioner. "Thanks, honey," I replied. The session started with TG giving us the rules (which can be summed up as, unless you're really in pain, no bitching) and starting us in the park with a warm up. Dips are hard enough, but at a 45 degree angle, they are simply a test of will. Although I'd take 45 degree dips 50 times over compared to the pull ups the BF was doing.

We then retreated back to our starting point for abs and strength training. Let me simply say that in all of my 30 years, I've never had a problem breathing. Breathing is simple. In and out. In and out. No biggie. By the time we were 2/3 way through strength training, I thought I was breathing but the only sound that came out was a wheeze. I was wheezing. I didn't even know what it was; I thought I needed to clear my throat. My body was seriously begging for oxygen. I felt fine, didn't want to hurl, but couldn't get the high pitched noise to stop for about a minute. The BF thought I was going to pass out, TG and TGW looked concerned, but I'm a high-level trooper and got back on the mat for the final exercise.

I have to admit, I gained a lot of respect for TG for making me wheeze. If he's taxing my lungs like this with no machines or treadmills, imagine what he'll do to my body. Additionally, you and me and anyone else can phone in a work out on the treadmill while watching E! but pushing yourself hard enough to feel like you're going to black out takes some doing, and sometimes another person taking you there.

TG and I are meeting this week to talk about our future training together. I think this will be good for me as I know TG well enough to feel comfortable, but not so comfortable that I won't push myself. Hard.

Goodbye OHN. Your days are numbered.

So, what are you marrying for again?

I have marriage on the brain. Most of my friends are married and now they are even starting to reproduce. Most of my friends friends are married, too. However, I'm keeping secret tabs on who I think will be the first to divorce. This isn't new; since we figured out in college that 50% of marriages end in divorce, I've secretly hedged my bets on who it would be. I don't want my friend's marriages to split up, but it's like having a car accident; one will happen eventually, even if it is not your fault. Most likely, though, it's going to happen to the person who doesn't pay attention in traffic.

My new goal is to figure out why I should marry. What qualities will bring about a happy marriage. Money doesn't do it. A lack of money and a pile of bills can really strain a couple, certainly, but that same couple winning hundreds of millions in the lottery could also be just as unhappy as before. If anything, you marry for money thinking the person will help you get a better life and 10 years later it wasn't the life you wanted.

You can marry for love and many would say that's the only reason you should marry. I think you should marry for two things.

Love and Courage.

You marry someone you love. That's easy. You marry someone you love and who loves you. Still with me? Great. However, you marry someone when you actually love yourself and the person you love actually loves themselves, too. This can be tricky. Scores of people in the world work on being someone they are not, inhabiting lives they really do not want but that they hold onto out of fear. Loving yourself means being whole enough to know who you really are and honoring yourself with love. This can mean everything from skipping the Twinkies in favor of the banana or paying with cash instead of credit. It can also mean saying 'no' and meaning it to taking a real vacation when you know you need it. Loving yourself gives you the opportunity to deeply appreciate and love other people in your life.

It takes (you saw this coming) courage to be who you really are and not let anyone else tell you who that is (Thanks, Ms. Winfrey). It takes courage to love yourself and be yourself in front of what appears to be a huge mountain of judgment, whether it be your own or others. It also takes courage to love someone else and allow them to grow more deeply into who they are. If you do not grow, you stagnate and die and so goes the relationship. Growth thrives on courage in a relationship. It also means being courageous enough to put the needs of the relationship ahead of your own. But once you know yourself, you figure out whether you can actually do that before you get into a relationship. You need courage to stand up for your partner when the situation warrants it and to stand up for yourself and your values.

I think these attributes really trump everything else. Who cares if you love golf and your partner doesn't? Growth means being courageous enough to try new things and if your partner won't even TRY to see the glory in 9 holes of golf, you may have someone with a courage problem. Now if your partner has been dragged to the greens by their Mom since they were 8 and says no dice, then that person has love for themselves and is courageous enough to say with love 'thanks, but no thanks.' After all, it's both the least and most they can do.

San Francisco in my old age

"I don't like cities/but I like New York/Other places/Make me feel like a dork."
-- from I Love New York by Madonna

A few years ago after a tough time, I decided to break out and travel solo. One of my first trips was New York City. During this time, I fell in love with everything: the subway, the configuration, the Anastasia brow studio inside the Times Square Sephora, the gigantic pretezels I had no intention of eating, The Met, MoMa, everything. I wanted to live in Manhattan. Dreams of packing up my Chevy Cavalier with all my books (because, honestly, I had no furniture) and pulling up to my West Village shoebox filled my mind as I applied and applied....and applied to every NYC job opening that came my way. Time marched on, I decided to quit my job and get another while applying to grad school and here we are. Not in New York. Not yet in grad school either, but that's for another post.

I went to NYC for a follow up visit this past weekend and I think I may have aged out of New York. It wasn't just the super sqeezed ride I had on the 1 train or the lack of public bathrooms near Washington Square Park. Don't get it twisted, NYC is still the place to be. For me, though, it's more of a great place to visit, but not a place I want to call home.

I'll just say it: I need a place that's ahead, yet laid back. Like San Francisco.

Mind you, I've never been to SanFran. I hear fantastic things about it. A good friend of mine once told me that it was one of the closest things we have to Europe in the U.S., which I took as a huge compliment to the city by the bay, seeing as my well-traveled friend sees Europe as the ultimate in culture and sophistication.

My co-worker also tells there is a warm side of San Francisco and a cool side. I'm partial to warmer temps, so I would naturally prefer the warm side. This is huge, though, considering that in Chicago, it's cold 9 months out of the year no matter what side you're on. At least you have an option in San Francisco.

On the plane ride home yesterday, I pondered if this was an age thing. Next month, I'll be 30. Like the tube top I wore brazenly in my early twenties, New York doesn't seem to quite fit me anymore. I want room for culture, politics and a healthy lifestyle, but I also want a quality of life I can, well, live with, for a long time to come.

I still love you, New York. But it's more of a long distance relationship that probably isn't going anywhere serious. I've been there before.

Katie Holmes and my neck

Last night, I took a stab at tossing some old magazines, but not before I flipped through them to make sure there was nothing I wanted to keep. I had a difficult time letting go of the January InStyle with cover girl Katie Holmes. This isn't new. I had a hard time throwing out her June 05 issue as well. She was so lucky, I thought, having just moved to New York City and essentially living my dream life in the West Village complete with cupcakes. Apparently she then met Tom Cruise and we all know how that turned out.

Again, as apparent in January, Katie is living out some of my goals (completing a marathon, having a really cute daughter), I realized she also is living out the goals of my neck. As I was admiring the black Armani dress she wore in the piece, I saw it. The strapless dress with one strap was to lengthen her neck, to make her look leaner up top. I then flipped to the other fashion pictures and I got it.

Katie Holmes has a short neck. And so do I.

I really love the fact that Katie has a short neck. Really I do. Last week I decided that I have to step up my game in terms of clothing and being to focus on dressing myself for my proportions in clothes that I actually like. The one area I've struggled with is my neck. While I am tall, my neck is not. Making matters all the more noticable: I have boobs. Not just any set, but a big set. Did I mention that I also carry my weight up top, like an apple? Additionally, I have a short torso; long legs, short torso. Hard to locate waist.

In the midst of all this reality, I was ecstatic to see that Katie Holmes has a short neck, mainly because I can now learn more about how to dress my short neck from looking at all those Us Weekly mags that I tend to not pay attention to (unless Lauren Conrad is on the cover....her I will read about, but when I see Brad and Angelina or Tom and Katie, my eyes glaze over). It is good to know that lines, and not just v-necks, can elgongate the area and I'm not going over the top with a one shoulder Grecian inspired top.

Thank you, Katie, for having a short neck. I salute you. Now, if I could just find my running shoes....

administrivia

i'm a little bored at work. who isn't? but this is beyond bored. this is 'i'd rather be at whole foods in the cleaning supply aisle' bored. (on a side note, i think wf should have 80's night. last night, they had a fantastic grip of 80's songs going back to back. there is something about picking out lemons while singing along to 'like a virgin' that makes me happy.)

am i too bored to look for more inspiring work? not hardly. but i need new ways to reposition myself. currently i'm an executive assistant at a boutique consulting firm. in my next position, i don't want to be anything close to an executive assistant. it's not bad, but i'm ready to stretch out and move on.

so how to repositions oneself? ideas. i'll let you know as they come to me.

why this blog is important to me

i need to tell someone what i think.

i figure the world may yield enough people to talk to about stuff.