LEAN & MUSCULAR FOR LIFE!

I challenge you to stop being a spectator and participate in your life. I challenge you to thrive rather than just survive. I challenge you to make the most of your free time to complete your “to do” list and actually find some “me” time. I challenge you to do all the things you know you should do but don’t have the energy to do- and enjoy doing them. I challenge you to do all the things you dream of doing. I challenge you to read the articles here at ABFITT every day for two weeks to gain insight, motivate and see how much more you’re capable of accomplishing in your life.

Good luck
Richard

Fitness Man Lee Kholofai

Lee Kholofai

Women Exercise To Get Male Attention

Tagline: "It's all about men."

This is exactly the type of idiotic advertising that companies do just to get a rise out of people so we'll all post it on our blogs and natter about it and give them lots of viral publicity and attention.

Sadly, I am unable to resist the bait and so I'm giving it to them. ("That's what SHE said!" ba-dum-bum.)

Men's Health magazine has launched a new advertising initiative ostensibly targeted at men but really aimed at getting the women folk up in arms. Probably because we're so cute when we make that little scrunchy mad face!

The basic gist - as you can plainly see; it's so unsubtle that I'm probably lowering your IQ by explaining it to you - is pictures depicting women exercising all alone, covered in sweat and exhausted. Why, you ask, is this poor woman blowing off a fun night with the girls to ride the one stationary bike in the deserted gym that isn't facing the beautiful scenic view? You see, it's because she wants a man. And as we all know (or at least so the magazines keep telling us), a man will only love us (subtext: will want to give us a good tumble on his high heat cycle *wink wink nod nod*) if we are svelte. Nay, not just svelte but skinny.

I mean, Lindsay Lohan's got nothing on this bony chick:

Of course if she's like Lindsay in other respects then it is definitely not all about the men. Ahem.

And this poor woman? Begging to have somebody jump out of the woods holding a chainsaw. Do women not watch horror movies? And why has nobody told us about reflective gear? And pepper spray??

The truly crappy thing about these ads are that they're partly true. As much as it pains me to write this, a primary motivating factor in getting women to exercise is their looks. You can enthuse about heart health and longevity and increased intelligence all you want and we'll all nod and agree. And then we'll jump on the elliptical and whine about how we're "working off dinner" last night or "running off the thigh jiggle". It's a sad state of affairs but it's true. And to any woman who denies being at least partially motivated to work out by her looks, I would ask "What if exercise gave you all the health benefits - but made you fatter. Would you still do it?" Of course not. It's why you see Katherine Heigl running on the treadmill for an hour and then lighting up a cigarette in the parking lot.

But there is one little nuance that the marketers forgot (perhaps intentionally?). Women don't get thin for men. We get thin for other women. We know that men like a few lady lumps. And yet we pursue perfect thinness. Not because it makes us more sexually desirable - often it has the opposite effect - but because it makes us the Alpha Female. We're competitive like that. Sigh. Stupid Men's Health.

I've created a poll. The optimist in me wants you all to prove me wrong. But the cynic in me just wants you to be honest. We can't change what we don't acknowledge. (Holy 900-pages-of-advertising-in-Vogue crap, did I just quote Dr. Phil on here??) Anyhow, those of you reading this post in a reader won't be able to see the poll unless you click thru, which you know you want to because any poll I create at midnight is guaranteed to be awesomely awful!

poll by twiigs.com

Experiment Results Shocker: I Did Not Lose 10 Pounds In One Month

Although this elephant probably just lost 10 pounds in 10 seconds.

There's just something about doing handstand push-ups on the weight floor that brings it out in people. Brings what out, you ask? Eye rolls, high fives, stares, giggles... wedgies - trust me, we got it all today! But before we get to our crazy behavior*, you probably have a second question (if you've been paying attention): "But Charlotte why were you doing handstand push-ups at the gym? The Self Magazine January Fitness Experiment has zero handstand push-ups in it."

My answer: Exactly.

The Shape Magazine "Lose 10 Pounds in One Month" Workout Experiment is over. Which is a good thing because this may possibly be my most hated Experiment ever. True, it wasn't a spectacular failure that sent me screaming back to therapy like the Primal Blueprint was (again - not knocking the diet, just knocking myself) but it was worse in one important way. It was horribly horribly boring.

Despite giving a decent burn - especially on those Tabata squats! - it didn't work all the muscle groups. It focused mostly on lower body, almost completely skipped the upper body and, well, it never changed. The allure of the medicine balls wasn't even enough to keep me interested. I knew it was bad when most of the Gym Buddies found reasons* to skip the gym last week.

So I staged an intervention. I brought in other magazine workouts which the Gym Buddies and I dutifully tried. Not only did we do the "Lose 10 lbs in One Month" workout but we also tackled the "Drop 10 lbs in One month" workout and the "Banish 10 lbs - Fast!" workout. Okay, so I only skimmed the last one before chucking it into the garbage with the rest of them. Because the problem with magazine workouts - all magazine workouts - is that they're limited. They're limited by body part, by equipment, and even by aggressive crack-seeking spandex. But most of all they're limited by their medium: print.

I'm not saying it's bad to throw one in every once in a while to mix stuff up. In fact, I enjoy trying out new moves and tricks. But you simply can't structure a whole workout routine around one. Finally, on Monday, when everyone dragged in and sighed, "So... magazine workout today?" it was the last straw. We were done with the glossy pictures and that stupid model with her stupid blue shoes (hey, yellow and blue are complementary colors everyone!).

Gym Buddy Krista, being relatively new to the insanity, has been going back through my archives and mentioned that she was sad that she had missed The Monkey Bar Gym Experiment. I was pleased because that one happened to be one of my all-time faves! In fact, when people ask me which workout I would recommend first for them, I always say The Monkey Bar Gym. (Unless you are seriously hardcore and/or have a high threshold for discomfort - then I recommend CrossFit. You get faster & more extreme results but I've found that very few people have the stamina or will to stick with it for very long. Plus it does take a bit of specialized training and equipment.)

The Monkey Bar Gym on the other hand is perfect for everyone from beginners to seasoned athletes. They offer 3 different levels for each exercise allowing you to get as much of a workout as you want. In addition each workout lasts only 20-30 minutes so it is great for the time crunched. It also uses very little equipment and can be done almost anywhere (hence the name). But my favorite part? It's new every single day. Like CrossFit, MBG posts a workout of the day on their website. They even have a video gallery to show you how to do each move.

How does Gym Buddy Krista like her own mini-Experiment? Well at the moment she's so sore she can't lift her arms above her head. But she's still smiling! I'd call that success.
Conclusions
The Shape Magazine workout was unbalanced, ineffective and boring. I most certainly did not lose 10 pounds (in fact, I gained a few). I don't suppose that anyone will be terribly surprised to discover that magazine workouts of this type are just a gimmick to sell copies but it still was kind of a let down. Like I said, magazine workouts have their place. There is nothing wrong with using one to mix stuff up or introduce new moves but it certainly doesn't replace a good total body workout. Not to mention you have to look at their obnoxiously thin, smiling models every day which I think depressed all of us.

And hey - Monkey Bar Gym is FUN! I was definitely glad to come back to it. Even if it did make us the punchline to every joke on the weight floor today! Don't forget: New Experiment coming at you on Monday. And trust me, I've never done anything like this one before!

*The Male Gym Buddies, after being called out on my blog yesterday, have drafted a statement. They say, "I can’t reply on your blog, it is considered a security breach. But I would like to respond to your recent query on your latest article about where are all the male Gym Buddies are. It was in regards to the comment about female hormones. We, the male Gym Buddies felt a great disturbance in the force, we gathered around the weight bench and pondered and discussed at great lengths about what we should do (all of 2 minutes). One of us pointed toward the exit and we all nodded in acknowledgment and made an orderly retreat to the parking lot. Lest we be put in a situation where our very response would be an entrapment to any query you female Gym buddies may put in our direction, we decided it would be best to come very early to the “Y” or not at all =P." I say, "Geez men, at least you could have thrown us some chocolate protein bars before beating such a hasty retreat!"

PS> Thanks to everyone for their kind compliments on my new profile picture! You all made my day:)

Does Your Birth Control Make You Gain Weight?

Does birth control make you gain weight? The research says no.

And that, my friends, is the sound of a million women screaming and throwing things at their monitors. Occasionally I read a piece of research that makes me wonder if the researcher has ever met an actual live human specimen and this is one of them. Despite the findings of the German Institute for Quality and Efficiency in Health Care (quality and efficiency - how very German!), every woman I know has her own anecdotal evidence that she would like to shove, er, show Herr Sawicki.

Hormones Are Wacky Things
I'm going to warn my male readers right now - today's topic of the day amongst the Gym Buddies was contraception. I don't know if was the absence of all the male Gym Buddies (what gives, dudes?!) or Gym Buddy Megan's pregnancy (she's right in that supercute stage where she has just enough of a bump to make maternity clothes look adorable on her and not far enough along yet to have swollen ankles and heartburn from drinking water) but the talk was all hormones, all the time.

The best moment of the morning, right after Gym Buddy Lisseth doing a flat-out face plant while attempting power-wheel ab crunches, was Gym Buddy Allison trying to demonstrate how to use liftits, a kind of miracle boob-tape that lifts like a bra but without the straps or cups (link NSFW but totally worth checking out!) - and yelling the instructions across five arc trainers. Complete with pantomime. I think we pretty much convinced the male personal trainers to resign right then and there. Welcome to Estrofest 2009.

A Pill, A Patch and An IUD Walk Into A Bar
And the joke ends there because it turns out that among all five Gym Buddies present today each of us has gained weight from some method of contraception. Ironic, considering we're trying to prevent a condition that causes a lot of weight gain.

One of the Gym Buddies (whom I will not identify - nobody needs to have their gynecological histories spread across the Internet. Unless you're Britney and even then you know people were just relieved to see she was getting regular medical care, even if it was just her waxer.) shared how she had done the Mirena IUD, which works by slowing releasing progesterone, and couldn't lose any weight as long as it was in. Once it was removed, she lost weight steadily at two pounds a week. Another Gym Buddy piped up that she had just the opposite experience with it, gaining weight upon having it removed.

Anonymous Gym Buddy 3 related how the Depo-Provera shot did the same thing to her. She gained weight on it and found it impossible to lose weight despite working out hours a day and aggressively cutting calories. Gym Buddy 4 shared how the Nuva-ring caused her to gain ten pounds while Gym Buddy 5 talked about how on the mini-pill she not only couldn't lose weight but also, um, got pregnant. Double fail!

As for me, I started taking the birth control pill Ortho-Tri-Cyclin a couple of months before my wedding only to discover it made me gain 10 pounds practically overnight. My doctor assured me that this could not be. And I opted to do my own small-group study by shoving the pill pack down his throat. Okay, not really. But I was tempted. Instead I walked down the proverbial aisle with chipmunk cheeks, an overly tight corset and a wicked farmer tan on my arms. Okay, the latter had nothing to do with my birth control but it has plenty to do with why I never show anyone my wedding pictures. Ever since that debacle, now immortalized in an expensive embossed album that never sees the light of day, I've stuck to the IUD and loved it, neither gaining nor losing weight on it.


Scientists can say what they will but I think hormones are a tricky business and as they are so related to our weight, any time you mess with one you run the risk of messing up the other. This is important stuff to figure out because you did hear about this, right? (In case anyone is confused, octuplets are eight babies born at the same time to the same woman - not octopus babies. Although that would be a good reason for birth control as well.)


One of the best Sarah Haskins videos of all time!

What say you? Anyone else have a birth control story to tell? Has yours made you gain weight? Lose weight? Which one do you love? And men, um, if you're still reading all I can say is hey, did you see the Simpsons cartoon I found?!

No Fat, No Sugar, No Flour Chocolate Cookies - That Actually Taste Good!

You've all had a "healthy" cookie before, right? "Healthy" cookies are what happens when some well-intentioned person tries to adapt a perfectly decadent recipe and ruins it. My response to these, ahem, treats is usually along the lines of "Wow. Not bad! But you know what I'm really craving now? A cookie." It almost like a tease: here's something that vaguely resembles a cookie and yet will not taste good like a cookie.

The cookie conundrum, as I have just now dubbed it, will show you that there are exactly two types of people in the world. No, not men and women, sillies. I'm talking about the if-you-want-a-cookie-eat-a-freakin'-cookie camp vs. the sugar-is-the-devil-and-must-be-avoided-at-all-costs camp. The former will have you eating cookie dough out of the bowl if that's what you really want (and ignoring the documented addictive powers of the sugar/white flour/fat combo) and the latter will have you eating faux cookies and feeling virtuous (and ignoring that the documented consequence of too much restriction is bingeing).

But Reader Gretchen called my theory into question this last week when she brought me cookies. They oozed dark chocolate and were chewy like a brownie but with a slightly crisp top. I was sure they were baked by the Devil himself in an oven fueled by the lost souls of desperate dieters. And then she gave me the recipe. It wasn't just "healthy" it was healthy!

Just to be sure she wasn't messing with me, I made a batch myself and took them to Sensei Don's house for my Karate lessons (that you know I'm still taking!). Everyone liked them. They even passed the muster of his pregnant wife.

And you know they must be something special if I a) bothered to cook them (we've covered my supreme lack of culinary ability) and b) bothered to post the recipe here. This is a Great Fitness Experiment first! In almost a year and a half of doing this blog I have never ever posted a recipe. (My lack of step-by-step artful food pictures should tip you off to my status as a food blogger noob.)

So with Reader Gretchen's permission here's her recipe for chewy chocolate cookies:

Ingredients:
Cooking spray or silicone baking sheets
6 0z. dark chocolate broken up
3 large egg whites
1 1/2 cups sweetener (see note*)
1/2 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup unsweetened cocoa
4 1/2 tsp arrowroot powder (or corn starch)

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375 and prepare cookie sheets.

2. Place chocolate in microwavable bowl and heat on high until chocolate melts, stirring occasionally.

3. Using a mixer on high speed, beat egg whites until they form soft peaks (Charlotte's note: when working with egg whites don't use a plastic bowl or utensils); gradually beat in 1 cup sweetener and continue beating until mixture appears creamy; add vanilla.

4. In a separate small bowl, combine remaining 1/2 cup sweetener, cocoa and arrowroot powder (or corn starch); then beat into egg whites on low speed.

5. Stir in warm chocolate and continue stirring gently until mixture thickens.

6. Place rounded tbsps of batter onto sheets and bake for 10 minutes. Don't overcook. Cool for an additional 10 minutes before transferring to racks to cool completely. Makes 24 cookies.

Nutritional Information
*Note: Gretchen used sucanat - a natural sugar that is as caloric as sugar. I used Stevia, a plant extract that has no calories. You could also use brown sugar or Splenda or any combination of the above that you would like. Just be sure to adjust the proportions accordingly (i.e. I used 1/3 amount of the Stevia because it's sweeter than sugar. Splenda, I believe, measures cup for cup.)

If you use a non-caloric sweetener: 20 calories, 1g fat, 2.5 carb, 0.8g sugar, 1g protein
If you use brown sugar or sucanat: 65 calories, 1g fat, 11.3 carb, 10.5g sugar, 1g protein

So tell me which camp you fall in - do you like your cookies unadulterated or will you healthify a good recipe so you can eat more of it?

Mini-Experiment: Community Supported Agriculture

Pop quiz: what do stinging nettles, horseradish whips and burdock clubs all have in common? They may all sound like instruments of torture but actually they are foods my CSA (community supported agriculture) farm considers edible. I, on the other hand, consider them... instruments of torture.

Did you even know that you can eat stinging nettles? Indeed, the noxious weed that you spent most of girl scout camp trying to avoid, is considered a delicacy by some people. The only problem is, well, the stinging part. According to the directions that came in the handy-dandy CSA member newsletter, if you rinse the greens three times, then boil them, and then saute them, you are good to go. That seemed like a lot of work to get my green quotient in but, hey, I'm an adventurous eater so why not? Oh, and by the way, you are supposed to wear gloves while handling the vicious little suckers.

Apparently three times was not enough rinsing. The greens bit back. Hard. Evolutionary advantage: plants, 1; me, 0.

Act Global, Eat Local

At first blush, CSAs seem like a great opportunity. You pay a certain amount of money - often called a membership fee - to a local farmer at the beginning of the season and in return you get weekly baskets of local, organic, picked-that-day produce awesomeness. If you are lucky, it will even wind up being cheaper that buying your produce at your nearby Demon Superstore that imports all your produce and then wraps them un-environmentally friendly plastic bags (obnoxious teenage bag boys come free of charge). For many people, it works out exactly as advertised. In fact, CSAs have become a popular cost-cutting measure advocated by every magazine from Money to Baby Talk.

My first clue that I wasn't going to get my happily ever after should have been that I live in Minnesota. CSA farms are local and therefore provide only what grows locally. Do you know what grows in Minnesota? Six months out of the year when temps are below zero - so cold in fact that I entertain my children by showing them how when we spit, it freezes before it hits the ground (mother of the year, that's me!) - the answer is a big fat nothing. Snow cones, anyone?The other six months of the year are divided between blistering heat, wicked humidity and thunderstorms the like of which I have never before seen. (Side note: one thunderstorm we had a year ago actually caused my friend who moved here from Texas to hide behind her couch. You know it's a heck of a thunderstorm when a Texan thinks a dumpster just got dropped on her house.) So basically we get some good apples (if the hail doesn't get them first), corn (that they sell for everything but eating), and the rest is only stuff that grows under the ground and therefore is safe from the ravages of nature that we live in.

Every month we live here, my husband and I gain respect for Ma, Pa and besmocked Laura and Mary in their drafty, tiny, Little House on the Prairie.

Learning the Hard Way

But the one thing that CSAs don't often advertise is that they're like the mafia. Once you're in, you're in for life. Or until you sell your share to someone else. And so my husband and I decided to stick it out for the year. This is what we learned:

1. There are 27 different varieties of turnips: black, gold, pea-sized, big-as-your-head and even candy cane striped. We also learned that we don't like turnips. Turnips bought in the store are crunchy and mildly sweet. Turnips grown in Minnesota have serious heat. They're like a very spicy radish except you have to chew it longer thereby prolonging the pain. If I was any less of a mother, I'd post video of my two-year-old trying to amputate his tongue with his fingers after accidentally eating one. Poor baby made his father feed him for the next 3 weeks, refusing to take anything from my hand.

2. Root vegetables will rule the earth. People talk about cockroaches being the only living thing to survive a nuclear holocaust but my money is on celeriac, burdock, parsnips, rutabagas, beets and of course turnips. I tried putting them in soups and stews, hotdishes (that's Minnesotan for casserole) and salads. I tried roasting, stir frying, pickling and blanching. No matter what I did they all tasted vaguely like crunchy dirt. Although I did discover the one week we had beets with every meal that even though it looks like you have just pooped out a mass of bloody red entrails, it is actually just beetjuice-tinted excrement. Phew! My favorite of these roots though were the horseradish whips. You know what horseradish tastes like right? Well that sinus-cleanser comes from a root. Don't let them fool you - there is no method of cooking on the planet that makes raw horseradish tolerable in anything more than minuscule amounts.

The bonus is that these starchy veggies last forever. I finally gave up trying to use them all (seriously, in one week we got three celeriacs the size of footballs!) and just kept adding them to a box in my basement. I now have 50 pounds of roots that show no signs of decomposition despite some of them being several months old. Will we ever eat them? Only if there is a nuclear holocaust.

3. CSAs operate on weird schedules. I had to drive 20 minutes to my pick-up site which was only open between 1 and 5 in the afternoon on Thursdays. For anyone who holds down a normal job, this obviously falls during working hours (and doesn't even include lunch time!). For moms like me this interferes with the one absolutely sacred time in my schedule: nap time. The only people that might have found this convenient would be retired folk or frat boys with no afternoon classes.

4. The weather is king. Part of the risk you assume when you sign up for a CSA is that not only do you share the bounty of the farmer, you also share their loss when weather destroys crops. We found this out the hard way only a month into our season when severe thunderstorms damaged half of their crops beyond repair.

Conclusions

While we got to try a whole lot of things I've never eaten before - and seriously I thought I'd tried everything - not much of it was worth eating. The produce that my family really enjoys eating like peppers, tomatoes, cucumbers, salad, melons and fruit just don't grow here. There were a few things I really enjoyed. The spinach was divine. The apples were perfect. The carrots were heavenly. But I ended up spending just as much money at the store buying "normal" things like lettuce. Even the things we thought we would love, like watermelon, ended up being a disappointment. (Our one and only watermelon we got last summer was the size of a softball and was white through and through. Not a single edible bite! Ditto for the muskmelon.) It ended up being a colossal waste of money and a such a source of frustration that it has ended up being a punchline in our house. If you can't cry, then you might as well laugh!

My advice to anyone considering a CSA is to check out where you live first. Californians and Hawaiians are A-OK, lucky stiffs. My sister in Colorado and brother in Utah have had good experiences with their CSAs. And I've heard the south is so fertile that vegetables do everything but jump in your kitchen window. But if your state borders Canada or ends in "Dakota" you might want to think that there is a reason 90% of your food is imported. Second, look at what you really like to eat. If those things aren't included on your CSA list then you probably will end up buying them at the store anyhow thereby negating your monetary savings. Third, get recommendations from other locals regarding which farms are the best. Local Harvest is a great website to start from as it lists all the farms in your vicinity with their contact and CSA information but nothing beats the opinion of your neighbors. (Sadly our neighbors apparently don't eat produce.)

Some people love their CSA like family. Me? I didn't.

Any of you use a CSA? What has your experience been? What is the weirdest fruit or vegetable you've ever eaten?

PS> While I like to knock Minnesota's weather, I do love living here! There are many many great things about this place (like being named #3 healthiest city in the US! woot, woot!!) but nothing I love more than the people. They are kind and helpful and generous and make wonderful friends and I don't hold them responsible at all for the weather;)

Friday Fun: The New Body Image Woe Plaguing Young Girls

Bratz Dolls May Give Young Girls Unrealistic Expectations Of Head Size

Sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself. That's why The Onion was invented, folks. (Anyone else not know they'd branched out into film?) And if that did not amuse you, then perhaps this will:


Someone (who I can't be bothered to look up because it's Friday and I'm lazy) invented the "Light Girl" - a toilet seat aimed at women that will weigh you before and after you go. You all know I've done this, albeit without the fancy scale. So if anyone is looking to buy me a reeeealllly late Christmas gift, nothing says love like a gadget that weighs your excrement.

And lastly, what weekend is complete without a new Sarah Haskins Target Women video?? Have an entertaining weekend!

The Bad Side Effect of Exercise That No One Talks About

Sweat. Expended energy. Stress relief. Weight loss. Heart health. Friend time. Or alone time. An excuse to wear the ridiculously cute new workout duds from Nike Dance Line. I mean, really, what's not to love about working out?

Well, there is one part of you that doesn't appreciate your dedication to exercise - and I'm not talking about your butt after an hour of Spin class. I'll give you a hint: it's the largest organ in your body. (Bonus are-you-smarter-than-a-fifth-grader question: What is the closest star to earth?)

Your Skin in the Gym
Not only is your skin great for showing off those new muscles you're building but more importantly your epidermis is there to protect you from all the germies waiting to get you. So what do we do to it? We lay it on ancient bodily fluid filled mats. We recline in puddles of stranger sweat on the weight bench. We use public restrooms. We bite our nails while using the elliptical. We hold dumb bells that 3 generations of gym goers have sneezed on. We even scrape it on Gym Buddy Allison's nails when she blocks us from making a basket whilst playing horse. (What, you too??) Frankly, you'd think we'd treat it better.

For all the abuse we subject it to, most of them time it still manages to serve and defend - and if we're really lucky get a nice glow. Until it doesn't.

I've Got Sweat in Strange Places
I got an interesting reader mail the other day. Reader L writes, "I have an exercise problem. I hate working out because every time I sweat it runs down my back and gives me seriously bad bacne. (That would be acne on the back for those of you not linguistically hip and/or not avid fans of ProActiv infomercials.) It turns into a vicious cycle because I don't want people to see my bacne so I cover up more. Which makes me sweat more. Please tell me I'm not alone! What do I do?"

Before L brought the subject up, the extent of the Gym Buddies and my conversations about sweaty skin issues was limited to making up silly and slightly perverted names for the weird sweat marks we get working out. Gym Buddy Jen came up with "swack" for sweaty crack and Turbo Jennie coined "swoobs" for boob sweat. I'll leave the rest up to your imagination as this is a family friendly site. I'll just leave you with this: there's a reason nobody should ever work out in tight gray pants or shorts. If that's all you ever learn from me, my work here is done.

Now, while I don't get bacne, I do have a cyst on my back that at its largest was the size of a golf ball. That is if the golf ball was red and painfull and filled with a "cheese-like substance" and shoved torturously under my skin. The doctor said that it could easily have been caused by a sweat duct that got clogged and infected. Thankfully the second doctor I saw (not the one who so vividly described the cyst's innards by the way) gave me antibiotics and now it just looks - like I explained a few days ago - like an overly aggressive hickey. Or maybe a rabies shot. I'm sorry to say that I never did get a picture of it in its inflamed glory so you'll just have to trust me that it was really really disgusting.

Anyhow, I wasn't sure what to tell L. I gave her some lame response involving the brilliant "shower right after you work out?" and the obvious "make sure you wear wicking clothes" to the spendy "buy one of those sports bra with the mesh back." Surely you all can do better than that!

Invasion of the Super Bugs
Bacne and cysts are tame compared to what else lurks in your gym. A girl I go to boot camp with got impetigo on her face from resting her cheek on a yoga mat. Lice has been found in improperly laundered gym towels. Athlete's foot has been around as long as there have been athletes. The bacteria that cause yeast infections has popped up on spin cycle seats (for the love of little green apples people, wear underwear!). But the scariest bug of all is CA-MRSA.

Community acquired multiple resistant Staphylococcus Aureus is the long way of saying "an infection that has no known cure." Once found only in hospitals, this antibiotic-impervius germ has started cropping up in public spots, most notably gyms, where it can be quite contagious. My family has had a couple of close brushes with this bad guy and both times the victims ended up in the hospital. Even once the victim has gotten over the infection, the process of sterilizing the home is quite the production. It involves a special anti-bacterial body wash that all members of the family must use for weeks in addition to top-to-bottom cleaning and even swabbing the nostrils with antibiotic ointment.

My brother got the infection in his face. It started out as what he thought was a zit and then quickly became infected and spread over his face. The excrutiating pain sent him to the emergency room where they tried one antibiotic after another to no avail. At last, when he was looking at last resort surgery, something worked. An antibiotic or his body's natural defenses finally started overcoming the infection and today, thankfully, he is all clear.

What To Do
Basic rules of good hygeine apply here, whether we're talking acne, psoriasis or CA-MRSA:
- Try to shower as soon as you can after working out.
- Change out of your gym clothing as soon as you can.
- Launder all clothing and towels appropriately.
- Wash your hands frequently and/or use hand sanitizer at the gym (don't worry about looking nutso - there are lots of ways to look crazy and looking OCD is the least of your worries, really.)
- See a doctor immediately if you get any weird rashes or bumps start to look infected.
- Sanitize all equipment that you use and/or lay down a towel to provide an extra barrier.
- Protect any open cuts with band-aids.

That covers most of the common sense stuff, so I'll add the stuff that I know you're secretly asking:
- Don't exercise nude. I don't care if everyone else is doing it.
- Don't eat and workout at the same time. A swig of protein shake from your sports bottle is okay. Using a weight bench as your picnic table is not.
- Don't pop your zits in the mirrors on the weight floor.
- Don't suck your thumb.
- Don't sniff your fingers after sticking them in your bellybutton. I know it smells funky. But, seriously, that's gross.

There you have it! So, I know some of you have got some better advice for Reader L. Any of you suffer from bacne? Have some good tricks for avoiding or getting rid of it? Anyone else get a weird skin condition from the gym? Lastly, anyone else have a funny word to describe their sweat in inappropriate places??

The Maintenance Myth

The caption reads: "'Better not take that fudge sundae,' this customer muses when she sees the reading on the dial set in the counter." My favorite part though is the look on the soda jerk's face. Talk about public shaming.

So you've finally dropped all the weight you wanted to. You hit your goal weight, had a party and rocked the skinny jeans. You posted your before and after pics and even wrote a testimonial in your favorite fitness magazine. You threw out your fat clothes and bought a sexy wardrobe of classic pieces to last you a lifetime in your newly svelte body. You are now the go-to girl or guy for healthy advice. Congratulations, you have officially entered the Shangri-La of weight loss. You've made it to The Last Chapter of every diet book. You are... in maintenance mode.

Theoretically once you have reached maintenance, you should be at your happy, healthy weight - one your body easily maintains (with healthy eating and exercise, natch) within one or two pounds. I'm going to 'fess up: I've never hit maintenance. Part of it is my dedication to a weight that is probably too thin for my body. It's the classic eating disordered mindset and I know that and I try not to listen to the crazy voice that tells me there's no such thing as too thin.

But the other part is that I can never seem to stay at one weight for very long. I'm always either losing or gaining. I don't think I've ever stepped on the scale and seen the same weight as I have the day before. The past 6 years have been regulated by my multiple pregnancies with gains and losses following a predictable, albeit, frustrating cycle. But even before that, it was always feast or famine. I was starving and losing or I was "being bad" and gaining. There was no middle ground.

I do understand that a certain amount of weight fluctuations are normal, especially when hormones are involved (seriously, why did society ever do away with The Red Tent concept?) but my weight fluctuates more than a pound or two. In fact, it goes up up up until I freak out, take drastic measures and then feel temporarily soothed as it goes down down down.

Last month was a down down down month and I happily watched the number on the scale trickle downward. That is, until Gym Buddy Megan casually mentioned at the gym, "You've lost too much weight." Gym Buddy Allison agreed, "Yeah, you're starting to look scary skinny again." To be honest it's usually a minor intervention like that one that jerks me out of the down phase of my fluctuations. They were right, of course. They always are. My chest bones were starting to come through and my collar bone was too prominent.

So I relaxed my eating a bit, gave myself a few treats. But I swear that sugar is a gateway drug for me and once I crack open that first bag of Nerds jellybeans (that weirdly look like those models they make of the Influenza virus) it's game over. So this month has all been on the upswing. Every day I watch the number climb and try to talk myself out of a panic.

It's downright crazy-making, is what it is.

Normal Person Theory holds that eventually my weight will settle out where it is supposed to be. And perhaps this is how it works for normal people. But I wonder if it will ever be that way for me. Have I messed up my body's signals to the point where maintenance will forever elude me? Or is there hope for me yet?

I really don't know. I do know that I'm not the only girl on this roller coaster though. Reading TokaiAngel's blog, Off The Scale: Zen and the Art of Maintenance, is like reading my own journal sometimes (except she's wittier and uses all sorts of adorable British sayings). In addition to many of you, I also know this from my Grandmother's journals. A life-long bulimic, the only time she was ever at peace with her weight was when she was sub-100 lbs because of an illness that caused her terrible and unremitting pain. And yet the weight loss was what she recorded in her journal. She was not unaware of the irony either. Even in the depths of her pain she could see the humor. But then she died in a car accident, never having truly figured out how to be happy with her body.

It's comforting to know that other women struggle with the ups and downs of "normal" weight fluctuations and yet manage not to revert to their previous eating disorders. But it also makes me wonder how anyone gets it right. This issue has caused me more tears and self-flagellation than I feel comfortable admitting. It has led to some of the ugliest breakdowns I've ever had. And yet. It's not supposed to be this hard, is it? Is it?

Are you able to maintain your weight? How do you do it? Or are you caught on this endless ride like I am?

Hangar Athletic Xchange featuring Motus USA Cardio

The Hangar Athletic Xchange is officially open for training and membership for fitness enthusiasts of all athletic abilities and training needs. With a grand opening that wrapped up 2008 fabulously, HAX is hitting the ground running in 2009! The facility is the perfect mix of top-notch performance equipment and luxury in amenities. Check out some of the images below for a glance at this cutting-edge training center...

HAXLA basketball courts, Cardio & Strength Conditioning Areas

Image courtesy of HAX

Cardio Room featuring MOTUS USA, Upper Level

Image Courtesy of HAX

MOTUS USA Cardio Room featuring Treads, Ellipticals, Upright & Recumbent bikes with Fully Integrated LCD TV Screens

Image Courtesy of HAX

Overlooking the Courts

Image Courtesy of HAX

MOTUS USA Cardio Room, Overlooking the Courts

Image Courtesy of HAX

MOTUS USA CARDIO

Image Courtesy of HAX

Strength & Conditioning Room

Image Courtesy of HAX

Strength & Conditioning Room

Image Courtesy of HAX

Basketball Courts at HAX

Image Courtesy of HAX

Locker Room Facilities & Amenities

Image Courtesy of HAX

HAXLA Lounge Area (furnished by Motus USA)

Image Courtesy of HAX

In the Los Angeles area? Stop by the Hangar Athletic Xchange and check out this fantastic facility for yourself!

HANGAR ATHLETIC XCHANGE

Website: http://www.haxla.com/

3203 Jack Northrop Avenue

Hawthorne, CA 90250

Your Health Food Can Kill You

"Pumpkin!" That was the final word that I needed to win Mrs. Julkunen's second-grade Fall Festival bingo game. The stakes were high: winning meant not only bragging rights on the playground but also a beautiful package of scented pencils that I lusted over and begged my mom endlessly for quarters so I could buy some out of the vending machines at my school. Cinnamon, bubblegum, even rootbeer! I needed those pencils. And Mrs. J just said "pumpkin!" I was the second-grade Bingo Star! Except... except that we were using pinto beans as bingo markers and I'd, um, eaten all my remaining pinto beans. And as everyone in second grade knows, if you can't prove it with beans then your win, well, it isn't worth beans.

That day I discovered my deep love for raw beans. Yeah, they're so crunchy you could crack a tooth. Not to mention I was eating something that had passed through the fingers of multiple years of children who could not be counted upon to wash their hands after using the bathroom. And yet there was just something about the flavor. It was nutty with a slite bite at the end. And the hull that stuck in my teeth? Snack for later!

It was a love that has only grown stronger over the years. I still love me a good raw bean. Except that now in a nod to my apparent maturity, I soak the beans first to keep my teeth intact. Now don't get me wrong, rarely do I just sit down with a big bowl of soaked beans - usually it happens over the course of a day while I'm soaking my beans to make one of the many variations of the 15-bean soup that is a staple of my diet. A lima here, a lentil there, a great northern for a real treat but over the course of a day I can eat a good cup or two of the little suckers.

Until last Friday. All my bean glee came crashing down when I did an innocent google search for "eating raw beans." Apparently you are not supposed to eat raw beans. They can kill you. Especially the kidney beans of which I am so fond of. Cooked? No problemo. (Well, except for the gaseous emissions.) Raw? It begins with stomach cramps, diarrhea and nausea before progressing on to ER visits and, yes, death. Okay, so no deaths have been officially reported but there are plenty breathless warnings like this one:

PLEASE do not eat Raw kidney beans...they are TOXIC and you may end up in the hospital.....please look at googled sites....U.S. FDA and Atlanta center for deisease control......folks have DIED in UK for undercooked/uncooked kidney beans, both red and white!!!!!!!!!

Do you see that? That's nine exclamation points on that bad boy. And you know what nine exclamation points means. They are like, totally, super serious, not, like, making this up, okay??????

I panicked. And I did what everyone who thinks they are going to die (albeit of the world's stupidest cause of death ever) does. I called my sister.

"I'm dying."

"I'm sure you're fine."

"No seriously, I ate raw beans."

"So? You used to eat bags of raw pasta when you were pregnant with your first. (True story.) Last I checked, being weird isn't a fatal condition, just inconvenient on first dates and your husband married you anyways so I think you're safe."

Har, har. "For realz. Go google it. It says":

Beans have the glycoprotein lectin named phytohaemagglutinin in various concentrations, depending on the cultivar or variety. The red kidney bean has the highest concentration of this lectin compound. Raw kidney beans have 20,000 to 70,000 toxin units, while fully cooked beans have only 200 to 400 toxin units. Undercooked beans may have up to 5 times the toxicity of raw beans.

Consumption of raw or undercooked beans can result in a severely debilitating illness.

Symptoms start within one to three hours of consumption of raw or undercooked kidney beans. The symptoms are extreme nausea followed by severe vomiting followed within one to a few hours with diarrhea and for some people, abdominal pain. Recovery is usually within three to four hours after the symptoms start.

All people are susceptible, regardless of age or gender. Severity of the symptoms is dose related. Eating as few as four or five raw soaked beans can cause symptoms. Confirmation of diagnosis of the disease is by observing the hemagglutination of red blood cells.

"Okay, so you vomit a lot. We used to do that for fun, remember?" (Ah, cracking jokes about our eating disordered history. Good times!)

"And then I DIE." I will not be reassured. "It says I can get sick from as few as 5 beans!"

"How many did you eat?"

I panicked. I couldn't remember. "I don't know. At least 50."

"50?!? Who eats 50 raw beans? You are so weird."

"Yeah, I know. We covered that. What do I do?"

"Well how do you feel?"

I felt fine until she asked me that. Then of course my stomach seized up. "My stomach hurts!" I gasped.

"You just did that to yourself."

"I did not! It's the beans!"

"Have you eaten raw beans before?"

Shame. "Yes..."

"And have you ever died before?"

Ahem. "Okay, fine."

"Well have you?"

"No."

"Have they ever made you sick?"

"Nothing Bean-o or some papaya tablets couldn't cure."

"Case closed then. You'll live. Now do your dishes." (Can you tell we talk every day? She even knows when I do my dishes!)

"Okay but first can we talk about my cyst on my back that used to be gigantic but now thanks to the miracle of antibiotics just looks like the World's Worst Hickey and I wore a tank top to the gym yesterday and now everyone thinks my husband has a shoulder fetish?"

"You did what?? You are so..."

"Weird." I know.

Your Turn

Help me feel better! Any of you have socially unacceptable food cravings? Did you eat glue and like it? Play-Doh? Heaven help me - bingo pinto beans?!? Anybody? Anyone else been attacked by their health food?

Gift Basket Winner from the ABC Show!

Congratulations to Tina Childs, an attendee at the 2008 Athletic Business Conference and Tradeshow in San Antonio, TX. The tradeshow was a hit -- with our spectacular M-Racing Series of indoor cycling bikes being a fantastic hit once again. Avid cyclists cannot seem to get enough of our "Ferrari"-like bikes...and the look and feel is definitely a standout sure to ramp up interest in indoor group cycling classes in any club setting!

Mandatory Airbrush Labeling: Next Trend in Magazines?

Do you think they got this model on a half price sale?

If you lived in Australia not only would you have 24/7 access to Hugh Jackman (or Nicole Kidman for the gents) but you'd have something even better. What could be better than a shirtless Wolverine, you ask? Mandatory airbrush labeling on magazine photos. I'm serious. I'd take truth in advertising over glistening pecs any day of the week. (Rhetorical question: does that make me old??)

Apparently Australia has a law, "the National Media and Industry Code of Conduct on Body Image, which demands labeling of airbrushed images in women's magazines and the diversification of models' size and shape." So anytime a magazine airbrushes a cover model into oblivion it basically has to tell you they are lying to your face. Do you think they make those stickers for kids?

I love this idea. I think that most of us intuitively know that most professional pictures (and many unprofessional shots, even) are photoshopped and airbrushed into perfection. And yet, despite my knowledge, I'll still look at a horribly unrealistic picture and think "Man, I'd love to have those legs." But if they were forced to 'fess up to their tweaks, I really do think it would make a difference in my perception of the picture and my gut reaction to it. I still remember when Jamie Lee Curtis did that photoshoot for More Magazine where she did a before pic showcasing all her lumpy, droopy glory and then showed the 7-hour process of glamorizing her for the final picture that made it on the cover. Despite never having seen a single one of her movies other than Freaky Friday - and heaven help her, I thought she was Julie Andrews the whole time - I love Jamie Lee Curtis.


Other creative types around the world have taken up this message as well. A group of vigilantes in Berlin have been pasting large stickers showing photoshop tools over the top of too-perfect starlets and singers, as pictured here. Not only does it show the familiar clone and smudge tools but according to those who know these things (i.e. computer geeks), they actually replicate the actions obviously taken on the photos. They're like a modern-day Robin Hood, except cooler 'cause it takes a really secure person to wear tights and tunic in today's society.


So what do you think? Would it make a difference to you if magazines were forced to admit - on their covers! - when they had airbrushed someone? And how do you feel about vigilante justice of this type? And, be honest now, how many times did you have to look at that Hilfiger ad to figure out what was wrong with it? I think I'm moving to Australia. (I'd consider Berlin but I've been there already - too cold, too much sausage. Sorry.)

When School Lunch Attacks

"Chips and a rice krispie treat!" My first-grader chirped happily.

"That's what you had for lunch?" I asked incredulously as the preschooler started the tantrum process (everything must be equal in this household) and the baby took up a chorus of "Chip! Chip!!!!"

"Oh yeah, and a chocolate milk." (Note to self: the mystery of the two cavities before age 7? Solved.)

Normally, given the societal cacophony regarding that stuff we put into our mouth and also need to live, I try to reserve judgment on what my son has for lunch on the one day a week he's allowed to have hot lunch with his kickball cronies. Especially since the other four days he's stuck with a nutritionally balanced home lunch packed by me, I try to just take a deep breath and go to my happy place whenever he talks about chicken nuggies or tater tots or french toast sticks with vats of fake syrup. I may have mentioned it here a time or two but I have food issues. And I'm trying really hard not to pass those onto my kids.

But a rice krispie treat, chips and chocolate milk?!?!?

"Wasn't there some protein? Or, say, a fruit or vegetable?" I croaked, visions of Wall-E dancing before my eyes.

"Oh yeah," he nodded seriously. "They had that brown crumbly stuff on tortillas. You know that stuff?"

Do I know cafeteria mystery meat? Were there vegetarians in the Donner party? Some questions are better left unasked, son.

High Fructose Highway to Hell
As my mother is fond of reminding me, you can't bubble wrap your children. Not only does it not work for protecting them from life's hard lessons but it also says specifically on the wrap "not for use with children." (Ironic considering I don't know a single child who doesn't adore the stuff.) It's like those cruel plastics manufacturers read my mind and then stole the dream away.

Anyhow, part of letting my children grow up and develop a healthy relationship to food is allowing them to sometimes eat things I deem questionable (i.e. with more dubious ingredients than Edward Scissorhands had paper cuts). I tell myself that it's about modeling good decision making and then giving them opportunities to make choices themselves.

Of course we are also talking about the same kid who just yesterday licked the metal frame of the bus window in -45 (F) degree temps and discovered for himself that The Christmas Story isn't just a light-hearted holiday classic but also the harrowing tale of what happens when you gamble against the laws of chemistry. He's six; he's not exactly known for making brilliant decisions. (And yes, since I know you are wondering, he panicked and yanked his tongue off and his now the proud owner of a skinned tongue. Like I told my high-schoolers: Don't mess with physics. It wins every time.)



So I tooled around his school's website and discovered that the menu actually listed exactly what my little George Washington had said: soft taco, chips and for dessert they had a choice of a rice krispie treat or a banana. And like my son astutely observed, "We always, like, have bananas at home." The other option listed in teeny tiny print was "green salad." I considered calling the lunch ladies' bluff and showing up to see if any elementary child has ever in the history of the school chosen the green salad option but, like I said, negative forty five here. I can't even walk to my mailbox without my nose hairs forming a unique snowflake pattern.

In an attempt to be helpful, the school menu completed the trifecta of nutritional terror by providing the calories, fat grams and sodium content of each meal. I almost fainted. It makes a Happy Meal look downright sensible. Plus, at McDonald's, at least you get a movie tie-in toy. Double the whiny fun!

So what's a formerly eating-disordered mother to do? We've discussed the sensitive topic of childhood obesity here before. Do I take away his lunchtime ticket to coolville? After all, his fate as a geek was pretty much sealed the day he was born to my husband and I. Or is one school meal/nutritional train wreck a week an acceptable risk to take with growing bodies and minds?

At least the chocolate milk has protein in it, right? Oh fudge.

Huge Veins: Beauty Mark or Bodybuilding Curse?

Ethel. That was the name of my first vein. Yep, I actually named it. I was so proud of that sucker. A little line right across the top of my right delt, that popped out whenever I did shoulder presses. When the one on my left shoulder emerged, it was christened Lucy. Since weightlifters see their bulging veins as evidence of their growing muscles, I wore Ethel & Lucy with pride and all of my weightlifting buddies rejoiced with me.

Heinous?

But not everyone is so keen on the veins. I mean, nobody wants to be this:

But even Angelina Jolie & Madonna, both known for being simultaneously muscular and ultra-sexy, are being called out for having rope-veined arms. And I've got to admit, my arms look just like Angelina's. (Which is the only comparison between her & I you will ever hear me make. Look ma, I got celebrity veins!) Granted, the veins are worse when I'm lifting, dehydrated or clenching my fists. But just sitting here typing, you can't see them at all. It seems unfair that we chastise women for not looking "toned" but then ridicule the effects of the exercise necessary to get those shapely arms.

Veinous!

So where do they come from, these veins? Because I am apparently not the only person who worries about such things, Scientific American has a very detailed and technical answer. It basically boils down to two things: growing muscle pushes veins closer to the skin and a lack of subcutaneous fat makes them more obvious (which explains why old people have such veiny hands). Bodybuilders have both bulging muscles and a low bodyfat percentage, hence the garden hoses. Genetics are also involved. Scientific American doesn't address this aspect of it but I'm pretty sure the fish belly color of my skin probably helps the veins pop as well.

My mother, who is a nurse, has her own take on it: "You're a phlebotomist's dream come true!" She's so easy to please.

So how about you guys - any other vein-y folk out there? Do you wear them with pride or hide them away? And how do you feel about women being critiqued for the size of their veins, of all things?

When Religion and Exercise Collide

Scenario 1: At my oldest son's swimming lesson recently the teacher, par for the first day, had all the kids line up next to the pool. It became apparent that one little girl, a devout Muslim as indicated by her abaya (a long black robe that covered her to her wrists and ankles) and hijab (the head scarf), intended to swim in all of her clothing. Our Y has a strict "no street clothes in the pool" policy of which I have run afoul of once myself, getting into a heated argument about swim shorts with a lifeguard who was probably a fetus when I was on Spring Break so what could he possibly know about women's swimsuits, not that I'm still bitter or anything. Anyhow, the girl's mother was brought over and after a small discussion the girl was taken away.

The next week, she showed up in a full body rash guard like the kind surfer's wear to protect them from chafing and the elements. Again, it covered her from chin to wrist to ankle and her hair was tucked into a swim cap. Her mother and what I presume were several aunties lined the bench nearby to cheer her on. As I splashed in the baby pool with my toddler (and my cute little swim shorts on thank you very much), I assumed all would be fine and went back to waving at my sons as they learned the hard way that Rescue Heroes Movie notwithstanding, you really can't magically produce scuba gear when you sink.

All was not well. After several minutes the lifeguard again pulled the girl out of the pool. Mom and aunties were called over. Then another lifeguard. Then the supervisor. The problem? Once the little girl, probably about 8 years old, jumped in the water, her all-white rash guard became transparent and the lifeguard realized that contrary to his instructions of the week prior, the girl still was not wearing a swimsuit underneath. I can only imagine the poor girl's embarrasment as her modesty was argued over. At last they took the discussion to the swim office and I was forced to mind my own business. The little girl never came back to swim class.

Scenario Two: Every time our Hip Hop Hustle class learns a new routine we videotape it and put it on YouTube. What can I say? We never grew out of the dance recital phase. YouTube nights are a lot of fun. We all dress up in whatever incarnation of suburban hip hop mommy we can put together, slap on some makeup, add a few dubious accessories (you should see Turbo Jennie's pimpin' fedora) and whip out the video camera.

Not wanting anyone to embarass themselves by association with us unless they are fully onboard with the hilarity, Turbo Jennie always announces right before we tape to give people the option to step out for a couple of minutes. Usually there are a few takers but that night I noticed something unusual about the group on the sideline. Save for one white woman who was there for the first night and didn't know the steps, every girl who stepped out of the frame was Muslim.

The next day I asked Gym Buddy Krista, who is Muslim and also used to my overly personal questions, what the deal was. Krista explained that in their religion it is not okay for women to dance for men or where men can watch. Exercise is okay as long as they keep appropriately covered, hijab included, but dancing and especially on YouTube where you have no control over who views it, is prohibited. She told me that the women were actually being rather daring by coming to Hip Hop at all since it was right on that dance/exercise line and there are usually two or three men in attendance (incidentally, the men are usually the best dancers in the room).

Our Y, similar to many other fitness establishments across the country with high Muslim populations (you wouldn't guess but Minneapolis has a large number of Somali immigrants, the majority of whom are Muslim), has adapted to this by instituting a "women's only" cardio class. The teacher must always be a woman - as Gym Buddy Bill discovered when he volunteered to sub the class one evening - and they hold the class in a closed studio with the windows curtained off and the door closed. In there, the women are free to dress as they choose and get their sweat on without having to worry about losing their headcovering.

It seems like a good compromise. And yet, as evidenced by the two scenarios listed above, it is not perfect. The women's class is only one hour one night a week. They have no access to the weight floor (and I can't imagine how they would since the weight floor is smack dab in the middle of the fitness area with nary a wall nor a door) nor do they have much variety. Obviously there are problems with what constitutes proper swimming attire.

Other gyms have tried different tactics. There are of course "female only" gyms like Curves. Krista tells me those aren't a good solution since the maintenance staff or managers are sometimes men and will walk in and out with no warning, causing the Muslim women in attendance to have to remain vigilantly covered "just in case." Other gyms, like the one at Harvard, set aside certain hours every day where the entire gym is off limits to men thereby allowing women of all religious (or not) persuasions to exercise in peace. And yet, that hardly seems fair to the men. Last I checked there are no "male only" classes or gym times. Not to mention that many people - including not only Muslims, but Hasidic Jews, conservative Christians and the entire demographic of people who have forgotten what it is like to be thirteen - take offense to a lot of gym music and shows airing on public gym televisions.

So where do you draw the line between discrimination and accomodation? Getting people to exercise is a difficult enough task but it seems even more complicated when you factor in religious beliefs. How much should different religions be catered to? Or should the comfort of a few be sacrificed so the rest of us can enjoy (is that the word I'm looking for?) the Britney Spears catalog in its entirety? Is there any place you know of that has gotten the balance right?