Good Intentions

Mothers ask their children if they want to drink more milk
From their little plastic sippy cups.
They just want their children healthy and strong,
And do not know the insides
Of that milk carton container.

BANANA POWER

The Scoop About a BANANA... a neat email I received:



After Reading THIS, you'll NEVER look at a banana in the same way again!

Bananas contain three natural sugars --- sucrose, fructose and glucose combined with fiber. A banana gives an instant, sustained, and substantial boost of energy. Research has proven that just two bananas provide enough energy for a strenuous 90-minute workout. No wonder the banana is the number one fruit with the world's leading athletes. But energy isn't the only way a banana can help us keep fit. It can also help overcome or prevent a substantial number of illnesses and conditions, making it a must to add to our daily diet.

Depression:
According to a recent survey undertaken by MIND amongst people suffering from depression, many felt much better after eating a banana. This is because bananas contain tryptophan, a type of protein that the body converts into serotonin, known to make you relax, improve your mood and generally make you feel happier.

PMS! :
Forget the pills -- eat a banana. The vitamin B6 it contains regulates blood glucose levels, which can affect your mood.

Anemia:
High in iron, bananas can stimulate the production of hemoglobin in the blood and so helps in cases of anemia.

Blood Pressure:
This unique tropical fruit is extremely high in potassium yet low in salt, making it the perfect way to beat blood pressure. So much so, the US Food and Drug Administration has just allowed the banana industry to make official claims for the fruit's ability to reduce the risk of blood pressure and stroke.

Brain Power:
200 students at a Twickenham (Middlesex) school were helped through their exams this year by eating bananas at breakfast, break, and lunch in a bid to boost their brain power. Research has shown that the potassium-packed fruit can assist learning by making pupils more alert.

Constipation:
High in fiber, including bananas in the diet can help restore normal bowel action, helping to overcome the problem without resorting to laxatives.

Hangovers:
One of the quickest ways of curing a hangover is to make a banana milkshake, sweetened with honey. The banana calms the stomach and, with the help of the honey, builds up depleted blood sugar levels, while the milk soothes and re-hydrates your system.

Heartburn:
Bananas have a natural antacid effect in the body, so if you suffer from heartburn, try eating a banana for soothing relief.

Morning Sickness:
Snacking on bananas between meals helps to keep blood sugar levels up and avoid morning sickness.
Mosquito Bites:
Before reaching for the insect bite cream, try rubbing the affected area with the inside of a banana skin. Many people find it amazingly successful at reducing swelling and irritation.

Nerves:
Bananas are high in B vitamins that help calm the nervous system.

Overweight and at work?
Studies at the Institute of Psychology in Austria found pressure at work leads to gorging on comfort food like chocolate and chips. Looking at 5,000 hospital patients, researchers found the most obese were more likely to be in high-pressure jobs. The report concluded that, to avoid panic-induced food cravings, we need to control our blood sugar levels by snacking on high carbohydrate foods every two hours to keep levels steady.

Ulcers:
The banana is used as the dietary food against intestinal disorders because of its soft texture and smoothness It is the only raw fruit that can be eaten without distress in over-chronicler cases. It also ! neutrali zes over-acidity and reduces irritation by coating the lining of the stomach.

Temperature Control:
Many other cultures see bananas as a "cooling" fruit that can lower both the physical and emotional temperature of expectant mothers. In Thailand, for example, pregnant women eat bananas to ensure their baby is born with a cool temperature.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD):
Bananas can help SAD sufferers be! cause t hey contain the natural mood enhancer tryptophan.

Smoking:
Bananas can also help people trying to give up smoking. The B6 and B12 they contain, as well as the potassium and magnesium found in them, help the body recover from the effects of nicotine withdrawal.

Stress:
Potassium is a vital mineral, which helps normalize the he! artbeat , sends oxygen to the brain, and regulates your body's water balance. When we are stressed, our metabolic rate rises, thereby reducing our potassium levels. These can be re-balanced with the help of a high-potassium banana snack.

Strokes:
According to research in "The New England Journal of Medicine," eating bananas as part of a regular diet can cut the risk of death by strokes by as much as 40%!

“If you didn't exercise as a kid, it could be dangerous to start when you’re older.”

MYTH. GET UP AND GET YOUR BUTT TO THE GYM!

Exercise is advantageous at any age, regardless of prior training experience. The only “danger” in starting a new exercise program—whether an expert or a novice—is if it does not adhere to current safe training techniques.

Otherwise, the effects of exercise are too substantial to pass up. Since there is a tendency for the body to lose muscle as we age (sarcopenia), the American Heart Association (AHA) stresses the importance of physical activity throughout one’s lifetime. In a study investigating the influence of current and/or past physical activity on balance in older adults, current physical activity was the major determinant for postural parameters—not age, gender, body mass index (BMI) and past physical activity. The study went on to show that regular physical activity, even when started later on in life, allowed “…appropriate reorganization of the different components of postural control during sensory conflicting situations.” Thus, the study concluded that physical activity counteracts the age-related decline of postural control. (Buatois et al).

Furthermore, the purpose of another relevant study was to test the hypothesis that an increase in “vascular bed filtration capacity” demonstrated an adaptation to endurance training in the elderly. Indeed, they concluded that exercise influences muscular adaptation. (Charles M. et al).

Losing muscle not only decreases mobility, but also makes the body more susceptible to chronic diseases, according to researchers at the USDA Human Nutrition Research Center at Tufts University. They noted that various “biomarkers of aging,” such as muscle mass and strength, BMR and body fat percentage, cholesterol levels, blood pressure, bone density, and temperature regulation—can all be improved with physical activity.

Moral of the story: you can be a gym-rat at any age ;)

References

American Heart Association (2007). Exercise (Physical Activity) for Older People and Those With Disabilities [online]. http://www.americanheart.org/presenter.jhtml?identifier=4557

Buatois S. Gauchard GC. Aubry C. Benetos A. Perrin P. (2007) Current physical activity improves balance control during sensory conflicting conditions in older adults. International Journal of Sports Medicine. 28(1):53-8.

Charles M. Charifi N. Verney J. Pichot V. Feasson L. Costes F. Denis C. (2006). Effect of endurance training on muscle microvascular filtration capacity and vascular bed morphometry in the elderly. Acta Physiologica. 187(3):399-406.

Who pays this idiot? Oh right... BK!!!!!

http://www.subservientchicken.com

Felony

Tonight I ventured out on a horrible escapade, hunting through Manhattan like a dehydrated sojourner in the Sahara. I ripped through the city, stopping off time to time to buy a treat like it was some illegal drug—and yet, it was worse because none of my purchases were illegal and no one was going to arrest me for taking a hit of a brownie or slice of pizza.

No one cares. Everyone from store clerk to homeless guy is smiling at you—courteous as hell as you order your hot slice. I wanted to say, “STOP ME for GOD’s SAKE! LOOK at what I am doing! LOOK at what I am DOING right now. Aren’t you going to STOP ME??????” But instead, I smile back and hide my contorted grimaces for fear that they will see the real ugly witch in me, boiling and troubling over their pizza. I’m in my own illicit universe, where I’ve handpicked what’s legal and illegal to use. And I, ironically, am the only one responsible.

I wander the streets and temptations lure everywhere in sight. Like a crack-addict, I can’t avoid the lights, the scents, the sounds— everything and everyone is a danger zone. I am my own danger zone. While others have to meet in alleys and look over their shoulders, experiencing the thrill of ‘the escape’ as they’ve broken the law and slipped away from authorities, I can consume my drug in broad day-light and no one gives a $#@%. No one is going to pull me over and ask why I was mutilating myself right there, walking in the middle of the street.

WHY, pizza store clerk, were you so nice to me as I purchased that slice and looked dead into your trusting eyes? “Yes, Miss? How can I help you? Anything else, Miss? What else can we do for you? Is that all, MISS? THANK YOU, MISS!”

It's only pizza, right? RIGHT? WRONG. It's this whole easy-world we've created. And it's such a big fat convenient piece of... pizza.

The Creation

"I intend to make attar out of everything!" And thus spoke Borden, and processed food was born. And Borden said, let there be licensed plants in other parts of the country, and "the chain" was born. And Delmonico saw that New World plants could be cultivated, and "salads" were born. And Clarence Birdseye ice-fished in the pond one day, and "the freezer" was born. In order to inspire awe in our ancestors, history writers (like the above dogmas by Boorstin) attributed America's food 'progress' to entrepreneurial "business heroes." In reality, the garden of Eden was already born by people who lived in this country way before us: Native Americans.

But we like heroes. And now, our food system has again undergone another creation, changing within the last 40 years more than in the previous forty thousand. Our secretive Willy Wonka Wonderland is no longer a product of soil and water, but instead, a technological wizardry with new heroes to laud. The true conundrum remains: fast food was founded by individualists and people who broke out of conventional wisdom— all to develop a conformity that we are now all imprisoned by and from which many of us wish to break free but don't know how to or just can't. Are we, as Rachel Lauden posits, in the mindset that for sanity and happiness to persist in this culture, that we need to live in the moment, amidst this scientific progress?

My little six-year-old cousin asked me at our Seder: Why is the piece of Matzoh so large? Well, little one, we are now in a world where capitalism dominates. We have stripped the workers of their rights, and placed much of the conniving exploitation we humans are capable of unto the consumer. Now we, as consumers, have to recognize that companies do not allow for moderation with their super-sizing, thanks to Wallerstein. That the mere presence of more for less DOES induce people to eat more. And that we have to raise our own culinary gavel and be responsible for sifting through images bombarding us day by day in order to make a logical, self-made decision.

We should be angry at society for creating these types of "foods," and instead, we are angry with ourselves for succumbing and buying it, filling up our intestines with this shit that we think actually makes us feel good. I hate the colors of the packaging, the false claims, and the ingredients that are probably better used for your little cousin's toy motorboat than a meal choice. It is IMPERATIVE to see what we've done to our species and to our culture— that processed packaging is a development of big business— not health. That we are degrading the lands day by day and de-mineralizing the soil, contributing to increased vitamin and mineral requirements. That we are adding crap-loads of salts and sugars to our foods— only to be competitive within the food market, and SELL for the sake of taste— NOT for health. Awareness is essential when scavenging the super-markets. It is a STORE, and they want to SELL their PRODUCTS, regardless of the false claims and consequences.

I agree with Lauden in that "natural was unreliable" but have we really "beaten plants into submission" by all of our soaking and crushing, or have we just beaten ourselves into submission that this way is the new, better way? Heating always destroys ring structures and decreases the raw bioavailability of vitamins in food. No one is taking away the convenience of a loaf of bread, churros, or andagi— but how does it react once INSIDE? This isn't about convenience. It's about your life— it's about the thing your mind sits on and preserving that thing for as long as you can.

I'm not going to lie— I love being able to taste the fruit of different cultures BECAUSE OF our processing and packaging and shipping and importing. Because of our open trade, and our open markets, and our need for bigger business— we can enjoy the myriad fruits of the Earth. But I'm sorry. Why should I succumb to this societal progression of dining? YES— bring back "slow food." I am NOT a proponent of advertisement bombings on my skull everyday, and the homogenizing, cookie-cut influence on our culture from the uniformity of these BIG CORPS. The golden arches are "more widely recognized than the Christian cross?" SICK! The McDonaldization of America is a sad excuse for an entire culture of people-turned-food-lazy. The irony: Tri-athlete Greg Brenneman, is the CEO of BK. And why shouldn't he be? Of course, a slop-eating lazy couch potato can't possibly run one of the largest corporations in the world.

They really get to the ROOT of it =)

YAY FOR ROOT VEGETABLES !!!!!!!!!!

Let's just get down to business and eat these cute little things :)

TURANDOT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night I saw TURANDOT at the Met Opera. The ICY COLD Princess Turandot had many suitors that wanted her hand, but she did not want to "be conquered". And so first, they had to solve her three riddles. If they answered correctly, they would have her. If not, she had them beheaded!!! No one was able to solve her riddles, and there was much bloodshead. Finally, an unknown prince came to town and was able to solve her riddles-- but he was smart-- and gave her one in return: if Turandot could figure out his identity before the sunrise, she didn't have to have him as her master-- and what's more, he would even let her kill him. Hey, I didn't make it up... So I won't give away the ending, but I will say that the set was breath-taking, and made you feel like you were right there in the Asian lands, amid some hazy summer's day in the palace. TuranDOT!!!! TuranDOT!!! (that's me singing).

You could get a good facial for that price...

In Zentsuji, southwestern Japan, watermelons are grown inside square molds to better store in refridgerators. The melons sell for $83 bones!

Poor Haggis

Haggis

Much to his dad and mum's dismay
Horace ate himself one day
He didn't stop to say his grace
He just sat down and ate his face
"We can't have this!" his dad declared
"If that lad's ate he should be shared"
But even as he spoke they saw
Horace eating more and more:
First his legs and then his thighs,
His arms, his nose, his hair, his eyes
"Stop him someone!" Mother cried
"Those eyeballs would be better fried!"
But all too late for they were gone,
And he had started on his dong...
"Oh foolish child!" the father mourned
"You could have deep-fried those with prawns,
Some parsley and some tartar sauce..."
But H was on his second course;
His liver and his lights and lung,
His ears, his neck, his chin, his tongue
"To think I raised him from the cot
And now he's gone to scoff the lot!"
His mother cried what shall we do?
What's left won't even make a stew..."
And as she wept her son was seen
To eat his head his heart his spleen
And there he lay, a boy no more
Just a stomach on the floor...
None the less since it was his
They ate it - and that's what haggis is

From: Monty Python's Big Red Book
Published by NTC/Contemporary Publishing
Publication date: September 1980

HOECAKE and Crudites With Vomit Vinaigrette

In case you Pesach-keepers were searching for some new dishes, here are some tasty new treat ideas!!! Mmmmm...

HOECAKE - thin usually unleavened johnnycake made of cornmeal; originally baked on the blade of a hoe over an open fire (Southern)

Crudites With Vomit Vinaigrette

“With the right exercise, you can get rid of trouble spots”

I can't even tell you how many times I have heard this. A client recently asked me, "What AB exercises will remove the tire around my waist?" I informed her that there aren't any AB exercises to target fat loss in a certain area. It is a huge misconception that we can get rid of our "trouble spots" by training specific sites of the body.

Although it is well-established that there is a site-specific response in bone density with upper and lower body resistance training (Winters-Stone et al.), this is not the case for adipose tissue. Instead, significant weight changes only occur with a total change in body composition, which results from gains/losses in fat-free mass and body fat. (Kyle UG., Melzer K et al.). Even with a decrease in body fat, one's genetic make-up is a major determinant of where fat loss occurs on the body.

For example, genes that metabolize estrogens and androgens are important in body fat regulation. In a study measuring the effects of exercise on fat loss in postmenopausal women, genetic polymorphisms showed a change in "BMI, total and percentage body fat, or subcutaneous and intra-abdominal fat during a year-long exercise intervention trial." This means that there are genetic factors involved in total body fat regulation. (Tworoger SS et al).

That's not to say one can't get rid of her "trouble spots." By expending more energy and decreasing caloric energy, she will increase total lean body mass, which is known to help raise metabolism. A training program must comprise of both cardiovascular activity AND weight training for this reason. In order to keep those "trouble spots" away, muscle is necessary to keep up a high metabolic rate. (Kyle UG., Zhang FF et al).

References

Kyle UG. Melzer K. Kayser B. Picard-Kossovsky M. Gremion G. Pichard C. Eight-year longitudinal changes in body composition in healthy Swiss adults. Journal of the American College of Nutrition. 25(6):493-501, 2006 Dec.

Kyle UG. Zhang FF. Morabia A. Pichard C. Longitudinal study of body composition changes associated with weight change and physical activity. Nutrition. 22(11-12):1103-11, 2006 Nov-Dec.

Tworoger SS. Chubak J. Aiello EJ. Yasui Y. Ulrich CM. Farin FM. Stapleton PL. Irwin ML. Potter JD. Schwartz RS. McTiernan A. The effect of CYP19 and COMT polymorphisms on exercise-induced fat loss in postmenopausal women. Obesity Research. 12(6):972-81, 2004 Jun.

Winters-Stone KM. Snow CM. Site-specific response of bone to exercise in premenopausal women. Bone. 39(6):1203-9, 2006 Dec.

And it doesn't even hurt!

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In order to experiment with MRT, you have to be at least 24, have had Lasik-eye surgery, and swear by gruel morning, noon, and night. You should have also spent hours upon hours of data entry and feel urges to go to bed with Alexander Hammy. In addition, you should identify yourself as "an old man."

So what are you waiting for???

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A Night at the Opera

Last night I went to the opening night of Andrea Chénier with my Aunt. I am officially an opera convert. We sat in the Grand Tier, section A, overlooking the orchestra. It was just beautiful, very traditional and the costumes were outrageous!!!! The music was enough to give you chills, and I loved the story line-- had to do with betrayal during the french revolution, and of course there's love, unrequited love and death!

A Remembered High

Today I ran. Today I ran and it felt amazing. I felt like I had been running for months now. It's as though everything clicked today, and I'm back from the dead. I think a week of alternative exercise (skiing) and proper recovery plus keeping fitness levels high w/ cross-training and wt-training has aided in this revival. I ran on the treadmill at 6.0, and increased in increments, up to 6.5. I ran 3 mi in 30min. Although this is a huge gap in what I used to do at 7.5-8.5, I am very proud of myself for being able to keep the speed low & not feel the impulsive or competitive urge to increase the number. I stretched for 15 minutes post exercise. I did not feel the accompanying burning sensations in my quad, knee or hip later on in the day. I felt refreshed, rejuvinated, renewed. I feel like a runner again.

WIKIPEDIA, time to get YOUR FACTS STRAIGHT FROM ME

Henry VIII was said to have died from gout, the syph, and his being grossly overweight. According to Wikipedia, "The well known theory [was] that he suffered from syphilis... More recent support for this idea has come from a greater understanding of the disease and has led to the suggestion that Edward VI, Mary I, and Elizabeth I all displayed symptoms characteristic of congenital syphilis. Henry's increased size dates from a jousting accident in 1536. He suffered a thigh wound which not only prevented him from taking exercise, but also gradually became ulcerated and may have indirectly led to his death..."

Well, Wiki, though your facts are correct, Henry VIII did not die (as assumed) from gout, or venereal disease. I will postulate that he died of SCURVY because he didn't eat any FRUIT! One of the classic symptoms of Scurvy, (besides violent swings of temperament due to vit C's coenzymatic function in synthesizing norepinephrine, which if low, can lead to mood disorders) is BLEEDING and improper healing of wounds. That ulceration from a thigh wound was INDEED related to his death-- a little more DIRECTLY than people want to admit.

According to Jasper Ridley, "...he beheaded two wives, defied the pope and waged the 100 year's war." Did he lack a conscience or just vitamin C??

This man needed a piece of fruit, ladies and gents!

A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE TRAINER'S STORY

You asked for it. You got it. Here's A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY from Belinda's perspective... By Marissa Beck (Even better if read alongside the original!)

Dear Diary.
I've taken on yet another tall, lanky, muscle-deprived older man as a client, Milton Goldberg, whose wife thinks personal training sessions with me will magically get his body looking and feeling like it did when she first met him… Because I didn't want to admit that her beloved Milton would never be an Arnold anytime in the next, oh, lifetime, I put on a chirpy face and assured her that her husband would be a "ROCKSTAR!" by the time I was through with him. Here are some of my training notes:

MONDAY
Pumped up after my own hour-long cycle/row workout, I met with Milton at 6AM. Thank goodness he was prompt; there's nothing worse than tardiness. I am used to clients who don't dress properly for their workouts, but I must say, never in my life have I seen anyone so oddly and inappropriately clad. Yes it's winter, but a woolen vest? I asked Milton if he wanted to take the vest off, but he crossed his arms, squinted his eyes and shook his head rapidly. Okay. So I had him hop on the treadmill. I was quite surprised to find that Milton never actually saw a treadmill before, and even though I had the speed at a comfortable 3.6, felt him wheeze and cough all over me. It reminded me of the sporadic steam-room blasts of wet air… only, his breath smelled like skunk and stale toast. His rubber sandals squeaked with every step and it was hard for me to actually take a pulse. He kept looking at me between sweaty blinks and said that my polypropylene sports-top, which he called Lycra (anything but!), was very fitted. Thanks Milton, you perve. Five minutes later, his HR was 140 bpm and we hadn't even begun our workout! I quickly whisked him off of the treadmill and decided to show him the weights. He touched the rack of dumbbells as if he were searching for a ripe apple in a supermarket. When we crunched, he grabbed his stomach like he was giving birth. At least he was beaming with excitement. Where did this guy come from?

TUESDAY
Milton was as jittery as a school-girl who wet her pants, so I had him lie down on a bench. A nice bench wkout can fix up just about anyone… or so I thought. Milton could hardly lift the 45-pound barbell WITH my spot. But he still had a smile on his face, so I assumed that meant he wanted more. I put on a couple of plates. Just 2.5 pounds, but my, did Milton gawk at me when I did that!! Next I put him on the treadmill and it looked like he had a pole running through his behind. To my surprise, the guy made a full mile! I think I'm really helping him because he thanked me profusely at the end of our workout. These are the days that make training these suckers worthwhile!

WEDNESDAY
Milton strolled into the gym 15 minutes late, and he didn't even apologize! This agitated me, so I stuck him on the treadmill for a little warm up right away. The man began to screech and hold his little pecs like I was poking him with a vaccine. Other members started looking at us in fright, so I raised my voice and said, "Milton! Toughen up!" He didn't take to the Sergeant Bilko sort of tone… So I softened, and put him on the Stairmaster. That's a lot easier than running. But he seemed to have a problem with that too, grimacing and shaking his head again! I told him life isn't as awful as he thinks it is. At least he has a wonderful wife who cares about him enough to buy such expensive training sessions with me. (I mean, what a spoiled, arrogant little baby—I work hard for the money so he better treat me right!)

THURSDAY
Milton is lucky that I didn't clock him with a cable this morning for arriving 30 minutes late. When he finally got here, it looked like a stray dog dragged him in from a nightlong storm. His collared jean shirt had holes in the armpits and he kept tripping over the bottoms of his enormous khaki pants, AT LEAST FOUR TIMES as we walked over to the dumbbells. I turned to grab an eight-pounder and the sneaky sonuva gun slipped away like a bandit. But I showed him. Grabbed Lars, who mind you, used to wrestle for the WWE. Whatever Lars did worked, because Milton acquiesced and sat down on the erg. He looked like he was at a rodeo riding a bull.

FRIDAY
What an angry-looking face on this cretin. I was alarmed to see that Milton had his finger pointed at me underneath the towel, as if it were a gun! Oh silly Milton—he couldn't hurt a soul! I decided that today should be a triceps day. As I had him lying back in skull-crusher position, his nostrils flared wider with every elbow bend. It actually looked really scary. Something funny happened during our workout, though… (I can say it is funny NOW, but at the time, we thought Milton had died because he didn't get up for some time). He fell off of the end of the treadmill! Like a little feather, he floated peacefully onto the floor—right at the foot of another trainer. It looked like slow-mo! I think Milton is a drama-queen… I'm sure it didn't "hurt" as much as he said it did.

SATURDAY
I know that chump was sleeping in his warm little bed. I bet he contrived the whole thing, planning to stand me up. Unacceptable! I left him a message. I am almost positive he screened my call. Of course, I was way too nice on his answering machine. I should have bribed him with pizza or whatever those people eat.

SUNDAY
I'm resorting to a no-training-unappreciative-nitwits policy. Amen.

NOT YOUR FAULT...

"Obesity-promoting behaviors are controlled by factors outside the individual and obese individuals cannot be expected to have total self-control over their weight in an environment that promotes weight gain by reinforcing overeating and inactivity any more than they can control their genes." ~Poston and Foreyt

A WEEK AT THE GYM: ONE MAN'S STORY

Dear Diary.
For my sixty fifth birthday this year, my wife (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since playing on my college tennis team 45 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My wife seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress ..

MONDAY
Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of
bed, but found it was
well worth it when I arrived at the health club
to find Belinda
waiting for me. She is something of a Greek
goddess - with blond hair,
dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo
Hoo!! Belinda
gave me a tour and showed me the machines. She
took my pulse after five
minutes on the
treadmill. She was alarmed that my pulse was so
fast, but I attribute it
to standing next to her in her Lycra aerobic
outfit. I enjoyed
watching the skillful way in which she conducted
her aerobics class
after my workout today. Very inspiring!
Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, all
though my gut was
already aching from holding it in the whole time
she was around.
This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!

TUESDAY
I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made
it out the door.
Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy
iron bar into the air
then she put weights on it! My legs were a little
wobbly on
the treadmill, but I made the full mile.
Belinda's rewarding smile made
it all worthwhile. I feelGREAT-!! It's a whole
new life for me.

WEDNESDAY
The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying on
the toothbrush on the
counter and moving my mouth back and forth over
it. I
believe I have a hernia in both pectorals.
Driving was OK as long as I
didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a
GEO in the
club parking lot.
Belinda was impatient with me,insisting that my
screams bothered other
club members.
Her voice is a little too perky for early in the
morning and when she
scolds, She gets this nasally whine that is VERY
annoying. My
chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so
Belinda put me onthe stair
monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a
machine to
simulate an activity rendered obsolete by
elevators? Belindatold me it
would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She
said some
other shit too.

THURSDAY
Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like
teeth exposed as her
thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full
snarl. I couldn't help
being a half an hour late, it took me that long
to tie my shoes. Belinda
took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was
not
looking, I ran and hid in the men's room. She
sent Lars to find me.
Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing
machine --
which I sank.

FRIDAY
I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human
being has everhated any
other human being in the history of the world.
Stupid, skinny,
anemic little cheerleader. If there was a part of
mybody I could move
without unbearable pain, I would beat her with
it. Belinda
wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have
anytriceps! And if you
don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the
M----- f-----
barbells or anything that weighs more than a
sandwich. The treadmill
flung me off and I landed on a health and
nutrition teacher.
Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like
the drama coach or the
choir director?

SATURDAY
Belinda left a message on my answering machine in
her grating,shrilly
voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just
hearing her
made me want to smash the machine with my
planner.However, I lacked the
strength to even use the TV remote and ended up
catching eleven straight hours of the Weather
Channel.

SUNDAY
I'm having the Church van pick me up for services
today so I can go and
thank GOD that this week is over. I will also
pray that
next year my wife (the bitch) will choose a gift
for me that is fun --
like a root canal or a vasectomy.

Do you do #2?

I just returned from a week long trip in Puerto Rico. It was not a touristy vacation—I lived in my friend's cousin's house in San Juan and then for the second part of the week with my friend's family in a quaint apartment overlooking the ocean in Luquillo. I can talk about the welcoming people, the historic sites I saw, the beauty of the land and clear waters of Puerto Rico—but my version won't be any more scintillating than Frommers, so I'll spare you 'my-virgin-impression-story,' and instead write what I believe you'll really appreciate.

They don't eat fruits and vegetables. For breakfast, we eat sandwiches: Two pale pink pieces of salty ham lay flat atop a white, perfectly square, shiny piece of cheese. Lettuce slices line the refined bread like shredded paper confetti, able to stick to the dough via a thick paste of mayonnaise. The remainder of the sandwich includes a few sliced Goya black olives, speckled amongst a couple of skinny soft tomato pieces. My friend's cousin opens the refrigerator and I get a glimpse of a carton of eggs. I wonder if there are actually hens in Puerto Rico. Like a criminal eyeing her prey, I wait until the family isn't looking and I peek at the label on top of the carton. Gainesville, Georgia, 30503. Hens in Puerto Rico, Bah! What was I thinking… I scan the refrigerator door and my eyes discern a familiar logo. There he is in all his glory, with the friendly smile and black confederate cap. Hola, Señor Quaker-man. "Avena," reads the box, which means oatmeal. That is the only grain I see, processed nonetheless, and I want him so badly that I can feel the saliva ducts begin to water in my mouth. But alas, I know it to be impossible. Señor Quaker-man and I wouldn't be meeting each other's acquaintance during this trip.

It's almost comical thinking about this past week in Puerto Rico, as 'lackhealthster' Joe. Because I was on vacation with my friend's family, I was on their time, at all times. I did not exercise. I ate close to no vegetables. The extent of my veggie-eating entailed strands of overcooked peppers drenched in too much butter, which lay over a bed of white or yellow rice. Granted, I had a couple of home-cooked meals by TiTi Myrna, a chicken, rice and bean delicacy; but still, the cruciferous crew was not in attendance. I ate fried food—everyday. Fried plantains, fried empanadas, fried fish... I drank every night. I drank beer, hard alcohol and sugary frozen drinks. I drank often on an empty stomach. I drank because people tend to have a "mid afternoon drink" versus actual food, and though I could have declined, opted to "fit in."

I drank no water. When I was offered a cup of water, it was as though I'd seen a small pond in the desert. I must have had at most, two cups of water per day. That's probably not so good considering that my skin was baking in the sun, exposing its dryness to more cancer-causing UV rays! I went to bed every night at 3 AM on a bumpy mattress and pillow that raised my head at an obtuse angle from my shoulders. I slept for a total of five hours per night. I ate pork loin, chorizo (sausage), egg yolks in butter, refined white breads, trans-fatty crackers, non-homemade pastries, nothing whole grain. I let more than five or six hours pass in between meals and I ate the bulk of my calories at night. I ate, slept, drank and functioned according to those around me. My independence was stripped away for one week and already I was able to feel the extreme difference that my healthy machine of a body went though. People really live like this. People live their whole lives eating starches, meats, processed foods, zero vegetables and fruits, all while sitting on their asses and drinking beer.

It dawned on me that the commercialization of Puerto Rico is to blame, and NOT the people's lack of desire to eat well. The food is cheap at Wal-greens. Burger King tastes good and is very local: there is one on almost every block in San Juan. I wondered if anyone else's body craved fiber as much as mine. My protruded bloated belly scoffed at me: what da HELL are u doing right now to me, Marissa?? Somebody has taken over your mind and I don't like it, not one bit!! The subject of this post is the question I constantly wanted to ask all of the people I met on this vacation.

I now REALLY understand why people have all of these horrible health problems. When breakfast, lunch and dinner consists of packaged-up foods and when the only "natural" foods happen to be meat from an animal or beans from a can, Houston, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

Although Puerto Rico is a U.S. dependent territory, I still couldn't believe how Americanized it really was. I know that my seven days in Puerto Rico is only just the beginning of my commericialized cognizance. In our era, choosing foods from our mega-food industry is the mainstream way to eat.

I am back in NYC, and have since had a day of vegetables and fruits billowing out of my ears. I'll stick to that for now...