Running 101: Get a Professional Shoe Fitting

Gorgeous sunny morning. Nice cool - but not cold - temps. Crisp clean air. Beautiful scenery. And to top it all off, an awesome new playlist on my MP3 player. Indeed, all the makings of a magnificent long run. Which it was (my pace time surprised me so much that I rechecked it on 3 separate websites to make sure I wasn't imagining things). Unfortunately, my perfect run was marred by one little thing: a blister breaking out on my right arch. Sadly, I realized as I unlaced my sneaks, my gut feeling was confirmed that these were not good shoes and I was going to have to revisit my shoe options. I didn't want to admit that my beloved Asics had failed me but it was true. This was the 3rd style I've tried since the demise of my beloved GT-2120's and each had been worse than the last.

Not knowing where to begin, I started with one of those 100-page advertorial spreads so commonly found in magazines this time of year. One of these yearly staples is the "Perfect Shoe Guide" which purports to help you find the perfect shoe for your foot. If you've ever read one of these, you discover very quickly that you need to be on intimate terms with your body. First you need to decide what type of exerciser you are. Are you a runner? A jogger? A walker? A trail runner? A trail runner who jogs up hills and sometimes walks when the scenery is really gorgeous? Second, you need to know your arch type - high, normal or so flat you'll never have to worry about getting drafted. Generally they tell you to step with wet feet on a paper bag and then match your imprints to the pictures in the guide. Lastly, you need to know what your "pronation" status is. It's at this point that I generally get so frustrated that I stop reading all together and go surf the web for cute workout pants (although then I need to know my waist measurement and my inseam and ... why are women's clothes so complicated??).

So, I started by looking up pronation. While the definition is pretty simple - it's the degree you roll to the outside or inside of your foot when you run - telling whether you do it is not. It's hard to watch yourself run without smacking into stationary objects. For the first time in my warehouse-shopping, bargain-hunting, online-sale-loving life I realized it was time to call in a shoe professional.

So I trotted myself off to Runner's Gate, a running boutique near my home*. The first thing I noticed was the indoor track that went around the sales floor. It was probably 50 laps to a mile but I suppose it could keep the sales staff entertained on slow days. The second thing that caught my eye was the lack of shoes. Being used to shopping in stores that rightly end in -house, I was surprised to see one wall with three shelves of shoes. That's it. The last thing I noticed was that I was the only customer in the store which meant I got the devoted attention of the owner Phil.

After listening to me babble about how Asics are the only shoes that have ever worked for me and my left foot is a half size bigger than my right and how I have to shave the hair on my big toe or else it looks like a daddy longlegs and scares my children (true story) he sat back in his little rolly chair and said, "Well, let's see it. Take your shoes off."

I'd expected this. And yet I'd still forgotten to wear socks. Or fix my self-mutilated pedicure. Or shave my big toe.

Phil did not recoil in horror. Although he did ask me if I preferred cushioned or non-cushioned socks as he proffered me a basket of demo socks to try on. Cushioned? I didn't even realize that was an option. All my gym socks come from Target or TJ Maxx where they only have one kind and the Puma logo may or may not be backwards on them.

While I was debating sock philosophies in my head, Phil was evaluating my feet. His verdict? High arches, no pronation (so I'm a "neutral" runner), and MY FEET ARE THE SAME SIZE. I KNOW. How have I lived all my life with these feet and thought I was a normal-arched over-pronater with freak-show feet? How could I have been so wrong?!

According to Phil's assessment I'd been running in the wrong shoes for years. He brought out a stack of boxes, one pair of each neutral shoe he carried. I pulled the first pair out of the box. "Oooh pretty!" I gushed over the hot pink, gray and black kicks.

He frowned at me. "Function first."

Oh, right. I dutifully jogged around the track to see how they felt while inside I was thinking about how weird it is to have someone watch me run. Is my stride too long? My arms too stiff? Heaven help me, do I have a Phoebe Run??

To his credit, not once during the try-on fest (8 pairs, I believe) did he laugh at me. Not even when I told him the reason I need new shoes is so I can run the Monster Dash in full costume in a week and a half. In fact, he even helped me troubleshoot how to make wings that would be more aerodynamic than the ones I found at Target! In between laps, Phil let me pick his brain about various running trends: Barefoot? Good for the short occasional workout, not great outdoors or for long distances. Shaper shoes? Utter ridiculousness. Newtons? Pricey but will indeed help make you faster but only if you don't have any existing biomechanical issues with your gait. Talk about your full-service shop!

After the frenzied circle running, I decided on the shoes that felt the best. And they weren't the Asics. I got a pair of Saucony Ride 3 shoes. The pretty pink/gray/black ones, even. I'd never even tried Sauconys before. The snobby part of me always ignored them as they were cheaper and I figured cheap shoes couldn't be good shoes. But then I took them for a run. No blisters, no hot spots, no shin splints or calf cramps. Nothing but good sweaty running! A hard 9 on the treadmill where I sweated so much my ponytail (little nubbin that it is these days) was dripping water down my back and my shorts were so soaked that it looked like I'd wet myself (perhaps I did! Ever since childbirth I can't be sure my bladder isn't pulling one over on me.) didn't even phase them.

Of course once I got home I immediately looked up my new shoes on my fave discount shoe websites. They were 5$ cheaper online. But you know what? The 5$ was more than worth it to finally have someone help me find the right shoe. Oh, and to discover that my feet really are the same size. (Whatever will I talk about at parties now?!)

What are your favorite running shoes? Have you ever had your gait and feet analyzed by a professional? Cushioned or non-cushioned socks? Have you ever been surprised to discover one of your body parts was not what you thought it was??

*FCC: I was not paid, given free or discounted merchandise or compensated in any way by Runner's Gate nor by Saucony. Sadly. It would have been nice to get free shoes! Saucony - call me when you need a new spokesgirl!

Mariah Carey Gets a Modesty Makeover

We've all seen Photoshop used to slim down "fat" people (read: everyone not emaciated), hid pimples, smooth aged skin and even to plump up sickly thin people but the Saudi Arabian censors have taken computer image enhancement to a whole new level: They used it to de-sluttify Mariah Carey. Somebody nominate them for the Nobel, pronto.

Confession: Mariah Carey's music is like nails on a chalkboard to me, especially when she sings in her famous upper register (she sounds exactly like a Whistling Pete firework - you know, the ones that screech higher and higher until they end with a bang and have no cool lights or sparkles or anything to recommend them except they're guaranteed to make small kids cry?) But even setting aside my inherent dislike of her singing, girl has worn nothing but 700 different takes on the micro-mini dress over the past decade. She's totally gorgeous and has a bangin' body but seriously, haven't you ever wondered what she would look like in sleeves? Or even - hush now - pants?? Wonder no more my friends. To make her modest enough to sell in more conservative countries, entrepreneurial Arabs gave her a Modesty Makeover. It almost makes me want to like her. That is until I remember that she sleeps in a Hello Kitty bedroom and has dedicated an entire bathroom to the mouthless kitty, despite being a fully grown woman. That makes me feel all stabby again. (Not that there is anything wrong with a little Hello Kitty love, Java Chick!)

Check out my post on HuffPo to see the full slideshow!

Am I unfairly maligning Ms. Carey's vocal talents? Do you think she actually looks better post-makeover too?? Any of you have a go-to wardrobe item that you have in 20 different colors because you know you look awesome in it?

When Makeovers Go Bad

Orange Velvet Suit Man at the Twin's baseball game the other night: I salute you. Not many people would go to a ball game decked head to toe in a bright orange velvet zoot suit with matching orange fedora. I love that about you! And I don't even know you! Ignore the frat boys calling you "pimp", revel in the gawkers - you are awesome and I hope you never change.

My love for the Orange Velvet Suit Man might stem from the fact that I too will take any occasion to dress up - I myself wore a kicky little dress and strappy sandals to the game (yes, I was cold and no I still don't regret it although I did see a blinged out jersey that I would totally wear if I ever go to another game, which I probably won't because, well, baseball is pencil-in-the-eyeball boring). Frankly, there are not enough orange velvet suits in the world.

A pet peeve I've long had is when people - usually stylists from a TV show or magazine - makeover a person with a very distinctive personal style to make them look more in line with popular culture's definition of good looking. I call it the "Average Makeunder." Sure they look more like everyone else but often they look nothing like themselves. I know Stacey and Clinton mean well but I think a makeover is only warranted in the cases where the person themselves feels badly about the way they look and they want to make a change. I hate it when people are forced or tricked into going on those makeover shows. Who cares if they're still wearing their beloved Two Wolves Howling at the Moon cross-stitched sweatshirt? Eventually it'll come back in style!

I never thought I'd have strong feelings about The Jersey Shore boys - they created the stereotype of douchebag, after all - but after I saw what happened to them when GQ got a hold of them... well, it's bad people. To see pics and read my take on their Average Makeunder, check out my post on Huffington Post.

How do you feel about quirky dressers? Do you love a character or do you think costumes should be reserved for major holidays and/or parades? How do you feel about the myriad of makeover shows on tv now? Have you ever wanted a makeover?

In Search of a Cape: This Year's Most Ridiculous Halloween Costumes

What are you going to be for Halloween this year? I know, I know we're still more than a month out but I've got the annual Turboween coming up! It may possibly be my most favorite Turbo workout of the year. This year the theme is "Superheroes" and while my house is replete with capes they all kind of smell like pee or have peanut butter stuck to them. Or both. So I'm on the hunt for the perfect Superhero-ine costume* (that will still let me crescent kick and smash heads into my knee.) In addition, the Gym Buddies and I are running in this year's Monster Dash and of course we are dressing up for that too which means we need costumes we can run 10 miles in without chafing.

Beginning my search today, I immediately ran up against the first problem of female costumes: The Slut Factor. The Slut-o-ween phenomenon - the one night of the year when all good girls (and nurses and maids and cops and even feminine hygiene products) go bad - has been well documented. And yet I was still surprised by this year's crop of ever more ridiculous costumes. So here are my Top Ten Halloween Costumes That Should Not Exist:

1. Elmo: This little cutie lives on Sesame Street, is voiced by a man, and whose sole talent consists of playing Jingle Bells over and over on a PlaySkool piano. What part of that screams sex pot?

2. Ditto for Big Bird here. I actually saw this one in the flesh (feathers?) at Target and it is twice as horrifying in real life. And why is this woman so insanely happy when Big Bird is apparently eating her head?

Image Source: Buzzfeed

3. While we're cannabalizing children's shows, how about this Peanuts costume that skipped right over Uncanny Valley to fall straight into Creepy Caldera. But hey, at least they didn't try and sex her up.

Image source: Spirit halloween

4. Ask yourself: What is the least sexy animal out there? A cold fish. Although I am left wondering why the model has no googley eyes on her anywhere.

Image Source: Buzzfeed

5. Mrs. Potato head takes care of that dilemma by placing the eyes right where they should be: on a woman's breasts. Totally removes the age-old male quandary of where to look when addressing females. Win!

Image Source: Buzzfeed

6. This one, creatively titled "Club skirt and top" loses on two counts: First, you can't call it a skirt if you can see crotch and second, the only girls who would be interested in wearing this would be girls who go to clubs and reason would say they wouldn't need to shell out 39.99$ when they already own this in 3 different colors. Also as lame: "lingerie model."

Image Source: Zoogster

7. Back to children's items that have no business being sexy: the blue crayon! (Also available in pink!) What I wouldn't give to have been a fly on the wall for that meeting. "Well team, you know what really gets me turned on? A nice stick of colored wax... yeah." Probably the same kid who sniffed the dry erase markers during recess.

Image source: Spirit halloween

8. This costume wouldn't be entirely ridiculous if it weren't for one fatal flaw: it doesn't come with roller skates. So basically if you wear this, you're just a chick in seasonally inappropriate beach wear. Also, don't real "Sexy Roller Derby Girl"s have much better costumes than this? Juliette Lewis would muscle this girl into a locker and leave her there. I've seen Whip It.

Image Source: Zoogster

9. Optimus Prime is a) A dude b) A robot and c) Transforms into a plane (or a car or something - haven't seen that movie). The only thing this costume transforms is her shin guards... into metal knee highs. Two adolescent male fantasies colliding rarely turns out well.

Image source: Spirit halloween

10. The most ridiculous Halloween costume of 2010 has tobe this "Girl in Skintight Dress" costume. Come on, you're not even trying now! Aren't you at least supposed to put on some mouse ears or something? Slap Franklin D. Roosevelt's visage over your navel and call yourself a dime? At least put on an ankle monitoring bracelet and go as Lindsey Lohan!

Image Source: Zoogster

This is nothing super nor heroic in any permutation of hooker (is it crazy that I'm pretty sure someone's going to challenge that assertion?) so what's a cape-tastic babe to do? Any suggestions for me? Have you ever ran a race in costume? What's the most ridiculous Halloween costume you've seen?

*I am a total Grinch when it comes to Halloween. I hate being scared and I hate gore. So that rules out 90% of adult All Hallow's Eve activities. That leaves me dressing myself up and dressing little kids up. And I love it!

"Truthiness" in Advertising

You already know that many starlets grace (is grace really the word I'm looking for here?) magazine covers half undressed but did you hear about Carey Mulligan wearing a towel around her bottom on the cover of Vogue this month? No it's not the latest terry-cloth fashion hot off the runway - as if! - poor Carey was actually the victim of an ill-fitting haute couture dress. As she explains: "The cover dress was very pretty but wouldn't go over my arse. Sample size is very, very tiny. I'm actually wearing a towel around my waist and the bottom is clipped up because I couldn't fit."

While Carey seems to be taking it all remarkably well - further on in the interview she talks about feeling free from the thin pressure that crushes many other actresses her age - but that had to have been at least a little unnerving. You're on the cover of Vogue and you have a priceless dress on your top and a towel on your bottom. What do you say when a Vogue stylist hands you a dress and you can't get it over your hips? And then how do you work a towel into that conversation?? But what really irritates me is that they made her do the cover shoot anyhow, even in such a state. Instead of finding a dress to flatter the already gorgeous actress, they forced the actress into an unflattering dress. All to sell more "aspirational fashion" to women who probably can't fit in it either.

The twisted marketing reminded me of this adventure with Gym Buddy Allison:

Random Suburban Mall, Old Navy, 10:05 a.m.

me: What is THAT?!?

Old Navy now specializes in rib removals. For $10. Suh-weet.

me: Did they lose all the non-anorexic mannequins?

Allison: How do I look?

me: Hi, Cher.

The beauty of a 16-inch waist is you can totally heimlich yourself.

And it gets better. Not only was the shirt pinned within an inch of its sweat-shop life in the back:
But it was a size small to begin with:
We left the store empty handed.

Store mannequins are basically the photoshop of the physical world - you've seen the ones standing (shirtless) sentry at Abercrombie and Fitch, right? - so I don't really expect much. After all, they don't even have heads! Or hands! Or even a spot to house pretend internal organs! And then there's Lane Bryant using a size 8 mannequin to model size 16 + clothing (with more outrageous pinning, I'm sure). But in a world where tiny Carey Mulligan can't fit in the couture dress they forced her to wear on the cover of the magazine anyhow, do we really need mannequins adding to the lies and deception?

What do you think of Carey's confession? Brave or embarrassing? How do you feel about mannequins so small they can't even model the smallest size of clothing in the store? Anyone else feel compelled to manhandle the mannequins?

The Fitness Trend I Wish Would Make a Comeback [The Sweaty Bangs Problem]

Yes, I've used this picture twice on this site before but that is just how deeply I love this dude. I have titled it "Awesome Sauce." I think he may be the patron saint of the GFE!

Bikram kickboxing - you many not have heard of doing kickboxing in a super heated room before but let me tell you it's all the rage at my Y. Oh it's not intentional, it's just what happens when you cram 70+ sweaty bodies into a tiny studio with poor ventilation. We sweat so much all over the floor that Turbo Jennie had to bring in carpet dryers to keep us all from hitch-kicking right onto our well-toned tushies. (Confession: while I haven't kicked myself onto the floor - YET - lest you think me more of an athlete than I am, I did accidentally slide into the horizontal splits trying to do a plie squat. I'm already getting excited for ice-rink kickboxing come winter, when all our sweat freezes to the floor!) So today while I did slip-n-slide roundhouses, I was contemplating fitness trends that I really really wish would come back in style. Why? Because thanks to my propensity to sweat like a dude and my cute bangs, so much salt water runs into my eyes that I'm considering shaving off my eyebrows to fully embrace my pale-wet-and-clammy aesthetic:

You love me, Powder.

You know what I need? A sweatband. Oh yes, one of these bad boys:

They still make them. Under Armor even makes pink ones and I had one in my cart before bowing to the whims of fashion and taking it out. Hey, I may not be the most fashionable girl around but I do like to look au courant and for some bizarre reason bangs-in-your-eyes is the It style right now.

They look adorable but trust me when I say they are about as comfortable as wearing sunglasses rolled in dog hair. They get even worse when I sweat.

I've tried other solutions. Bobby pins work great for pulling my bangs out of my face but they don't do squat for the sweat rivulets. Headbands are super cute right now but I must have the world's weirdest shaped head because they pop right off with all the zeal of Tim Gunn making fun of "I must be carried down the stair by a phalanx of men" Anna Wintour. (You must watch this video, I have never seen Tim Gunn so happy! Or Jon Stewart for that matter.) And I can't pull off do-rags due to the fact that I'm neither black nor an extra on Little House on the Prairie.

So you see how I have arrived at the sweatband? The terry cloth is wonderfully absorbent, the circular shape enfolds my sweaty forehead in a gentle hug, AND it's machine washable! The only problem is I think I'd look more Muppet-unibrow than trendy Hipster:













For the love of little green apples, I'm a 32-year-old soccer mom! (Okay, "soccer mom" in name only - my boys actually do Show Choir, and do it awesomely, I might add.) Help me out! Do you have the sweaty bangs problem too? What do you do? Should I just buck convention and wear the sweatband with pride? What bygone fitness trend do you wish would come back?

PS> You know what else is awesome and I wish I got to wear more of? Tennis dresses. All the coverage of a skirt but so many more cute options! Although maybe not quite like this:

Um, Venus? Do you know you have fireworks exploding out of your lady business? Also, this looks like the world's least-flattering tank top but if you see yourself in the other pictures you will realize this is actually a dress. (You should, you designed it!) Typically we associate crotchtacular dresses with inebriated starlets. Don't be that girl Venus. Think of the children.

But I do give you mad props for wearing underwear! Although I do feel compelled to tell you that when they say to wear flesh-toned undies they mean underneath something else. Carry on being awesome now.

How to Get Rid of Unwanted Muscle

The best part is the guy on the right's face. "Dude, the salesman told me they were out of the XL banana hammocks!!" I'm sure that's what he's thinking.

What I'm about to tell you is going to make me very unpopular*. (Never mind that I spent so much time being unpopular in high school that it is pretty much my natural state of being.) You know that old weight lifting trope "Don't fear the heavy weights; women don't have enough testosterone to get bulky." ? I don't buy it. (Shun! Shun the non-believer! Shuuuunnnnnn!) While I do absolutely believe that heaving some iron is great for men, women and everyone in between, I also think that women can put on more muscle than we'd like. Sure we'll never be this guy:

Um, sir? You are having enough nip slippage to make Tara Reid jealous.

But we can get bulkier than we like to be. As material evidence, I kindly submit to the jury my favorite little black dress. Every girl has one - it's the dress that you can accessorize with anything and makes you look like a million bucks even when you're post-popcorn and pre-period bloated. My particular LBD is a retro Audrey Hepburn inspired black sheath dress that nips in at just the right spot on my waist and has a neckline so flattering that half the time I don't even bother with the jewelry. I'd post a pic of me wearing it so we could all ooh and ahh together except: IT WON'T ZIP UP ANYMORE. The trouble spot? Not my usual problem areas - it slips right up over my hips and thighs. It catches on my lats. Of all the stupid spots to have a dress not fit, I cannot think of a less desirable place to gain inches than across my bat-wing territory. For those of you unfamiliar with bodybuilding parlance, your latissimus dorsi are your armpit muscles. Running down the sides of your back, they're often called the swimmer's muscle. You can see why:

While they are obviously very functional on Katie Hoff here, I am not an Olympic swimmer and therefore prefer my dress fitting to armpit muscles. I know that this will get some lady lifters all in a tizzy but I never claimed not to be a ridiculous human being.

Continuing on with bodybuilding lore, there are three types of people in this world: Ectomorphs or people who are naturally thin and have a hard time putting on muscle (party like an emo rock star! Or a catwalk model!), Mesomorphs or people who are well balanced with fat and muscle (also known as the type everyone wishes they were, what up Mr. and Miss Universe?), and the poor Endomorphs or people who put on muscle easily but put on fat even more easily (Holla all you rom-com sidekicks!). (Funny aside: the site linked above lists "stalkiness" as an attribute of endomorphs. That might be the awesomest abuse of the English language I've seen since my ex-boyfriend e-mailed me that he'd gotten a job as a "night stalker" at the local grocery store. Sadly that turned out to be more true than any of us ever anticipated but hey it kept the local police on their toes. Although in our culture I'm not sure which is the more offensive adjective: stocky or stalky. Perhaps one would rather be stalky.) ANYHOW. I'm pretty darn sure I'm not an ectomorph but whichever the remaining two I am, I don't like it. And not just because it makes my armpits crazy hard to shave.

I want the bat muscles gone and my dress back. Operation: Lose Muscle.

Gym Buddy Megan - who also hates her bat muscles so see, I'm not the only girl with a dominant vanity gene - and I pinpointed the emergence of our rogue muscles on the P90X Experiment. All those variations on the pull-up had us working our lats like never before. And August's Swimming Experiment didn't help either. So what to do?

According to several very authoritative (i.e. Yahoo's ask-a-question) websites, these are my options listed in order of best to worst:

1. Get the body part set in a cast. This was universally the method of choice for muscle atrophy, after all have you ever seen someone get a cast off their leg? Clearly this works. Also clear: if I think being unable to zip up my dress is embarrassing, I will not be able to handle the public mockery that would ensue if I showed up with armpit casts. Out.

2. Cut your calories to below 800 a day so that your body will go into starvation mode and burn muscle for fuel. Downside: You might die. Also out.

3. Stop working that muscle. Now we're getting closer. I already use this strategy with my calves. What? I love my calves exactly the way they are and toe raises are tedious. The difference between calves and lats however is that the latter is connected to other very important muscles like, oh, your whole upper body. Kinda out, for reasons of practicality.

4. Lift lighter and increase your reps. Whoooaaa... isn't this what all the experts tell you not to do? Which means it might just work. Not great, but probably my best option.

What kind of -morph are you? Do you have a muscle you wish would go away? Do you avoid working it to keep it from getting bigger? Or is your philosophy that a girl can never have too much metabolism-firing muscle? Any advice for me? Should I just get the dress altered and be done with it?

*There has been some confusion in the comments I wanted to address. When I wrote this post I meant it to be a tongue-in-cheek light-hearted look-what-us-girls-go-through-for-fashion humorous kind of post but apparently I shouldn't be blogging late at night 'cause clearly it didn't come across that way. Just to be clear: I'm not going to do any of the above. While it's true I don't love my lats, I do love having muscle and I'm not going to quit weight lifting. Nor was this meant to be a judgment on any woman who is trying to get bigger muscles. To any of you whom I have offended, I am very sorry! To all of you whom I confused, sorry again. To everyone else-Thanks for allowing me to make mistakes sometimes:)

Book Cover Photos! (You Guys Were Right About the PinkJacket!)

Well hello there! Fancy meeting you at this park. Don't worry I have lots of random fitness equipment to show you. No that's not a euphemism and no I'm not trying to sell you any of it. Although this post is, apparently, sponsored by Subway. (Which is a bummer because Subway irritates me on two fronts: Jared, their spokesman who only proves you can lose a ton of weight by eating a verrry limited diet and also, how can anyone eat a normal sub after having one toasted with guacamole? Mmm... Quiznos!)

Me? A real model?? (I ask you, would a real model wear a black bra under a white tank??) Oh gosh no! It's a photo shoot for my book that's coming out December 1st. You want an autograph? Oops, you just want me to move out of the way so you can have your kid take a pic of you and your boyfriend... making out on the rocks... in a public park. With tongue. Seriously people, that's your 3rd grader taking that picture - put your shirt back on! Egads.

Look away. Now look back. Look away. Now look back again. I'm on a rock. In a PINK shirt this time. I am the girl your girl could smell like! (If she sweated like a dude and wore Old Spice, of which I do the former but not the latter - I have my pride.)

Now if only I could get a person to follow me around every day with a light-reflector thingy that makes my eyes all glow-y. My kids would never dare disobey me again. Because I can shoot lasers from my eyes. BELIEVE.

And here I am feigning confidence. I was thinking about Miss Tyra telling all the America's Next Top Models (That No One Ever Hears From Again After the Show's Over Except on Cover Girl Commercials) how to "smize" (smile with your eyes). Seriously. That's what I was thinking about.

Until I got distracted remembering that one photo shoot where they made the girls pose with huge spiders and venemous snakes and cockroaches. One girl had the tarantula right up by her eye. Still gives me the heebie jeebies. Thankfully all I had to do was stand in ankle-deep water and get dozens of mosquito bites while waiting for random children to stop swimming in the (public) waterfalls and photobombing my cover.

There is a reason I've never done a pole dancing Great Fitness Experiment and now there is photographic proof.

Don't make that face or it'll freeze like that!

Thank you so much to all of you for all of your help picking out my cover-shoot clothes! It meant so much to me to read all of your supportive and helpful comments (you guys were way right about those gray pants - eek!) As you can see, the shoot went really well. Michael and Sarah Novak of Inventive Media took really good care of me and I managed to not only get over my awkwardness long enough to get a few good snaps but also to have a lot of fun. I still have zero desire to be a professional fitness model (not that anyone's asking me to) - modeling is weird work - but I feel a lot better about being on the cover of my book.

The cover art is being finalized this week and the mock-up is really cute and funny! A little teaser: they didn't pick any of the pics above. But they did agree with you all that the pink jacket ones were the best and so it is one of those that made the final cut! I can't wait to show you guys the finished product!!

So, what is your opinion: Subway or Quiznos? What's the worst pose/prop you've seen a model have to do in a photo? (I always worry about all those high fashion photo shoots where they make the models jump in 8" platform stilettos. Surely someone's broken an ankle, right?) You're not tired of the Old Spice guy yet are you??

Designer Denim: Is Your Butt Bold, Demi or Slight?

Somehow I think tight denim is the least of his worries.

Mel Gibson's massive, public death spiral is depressing. Discovering that all that Dawn dish detergent that so photogenically cleans oil-drenched wildlife doesn't prolong their lives is really depressing. But do you know what is super depressing? Giving a pair of adorable designer jeans away to a friend because they don't fit you... and when she shows up wearing them you realize she looks better in them than you ever did, even at your thinnest. Oh yes, I just put my jeans drama ahead of Mel Gibson and the BP oil spill on the importance scale. (What? They capped the well didn't they? And don't say you aren't entertained by ol' 'Sugar Tits' Gibson's antics.)

There's a reason I favor the retro look: Like many women of yore, I have a (relatively) tiny waist and fuller hips and thighs. My body likes to store its fat reserves in the areas that are not the current trend. (Missed the memo? You're allowed fat in your boobs, your face and teensy bit in your backside. You may have the left pinkie finger on odd Tuesdays if you've been especially good this year.) And there's nothing wrong with all that pear-shaped awesomeness... until I try and buy jeans.

Any pair I buy must pass the thigh test. As in, I have to be able to get them over my thighs. The upside is that I never, ever have to worry about jeans being too tight on the waist. Too small pants never reach my waist, thanks to my twin bodyguards below. The downside, well, is that my jeans are always painted-on tight on my thighs and then they gap at my waist. This trend of no belt and pulling your shirt down over the top of your pants? Totally doesn't work for me. Crack city ain't pretty.

I don't own a single pair of jeans I can wear without a belt.

Don't misunderstand - I'm not trying to bodysnark on myself. My "athletic" thighs have run me through many miles, carried me up countless mountains and even, so says the research, made my babies smarter. I'm just trying to explain why I wanted to weep after seeing a friend of mine wearing a pair of supercute jeans I'd given her because I was tired of losing the tug-of-war to gravity every day. Not only were said jeans cuter on her than they ever were on me (even pre-baby) but they were actually loose on her legs. For the love of little green apples, I don't even know what it feels like to have loose fabric on my legs unless I'm wearing a skirt. I don't know what they looked like on her waist - I resisted the urge to rush her and yank up her shirt - but I do know that we carry our weight in completely opposite ways (weighs?). And sadly, 99% of jeans these days are cut for women of her proportions rather than mine.

So I was beyond excited to see that Levi's has not only come out with a line of denim that has the same styles with 3 different fits but they based it off of actual research! (And no, Levis is not paying me to write this. Nor have they given me a free pair of jeans to try out. I'm pretty sure they don't even know I exist. Um, call me Levis - ok??) Levis studied 60,000 full-body scans of women around the world to come up with their new fits.

"Jeans that fit right are like the Holy Grail for women," Mary Alderete, Levi's VP/global marketing, tells Marketing Daily. "We analyzed women's bodies around the world, and did 60,000 body scans, and found that 80% of all women fall into three different body types." Once Levi's identified the types -- Slight Curve, Demi Curve, and Bold Curve -- "we took these pants on 'fit safaris' around the world to test them out."

The three fits are based on the ratio of your waist to your butt. (Dear Levis, thank you for not calling them "small," "medium," and "large"):

(click on graphic to enlarge, click through to their site for more details)

It's about freaking time. While brands like Apple Bottom and Skinny in the Middle have tried to reach this niche market, they are often expensive and found only on the Internet (precluding the funfunfun of trying them on first.) The only problem I foresee with the Levis is that all those models with the cute behinds up there have skiiiiinnny little legs. My issue isn't my butt so much as my thighs. But I'm hoping that they took that into account and just didn't advertise it that way because thighs make people think of chicken and the current tagline of "All a$$es are not created equal" wouldn't be nearly as sassy.

So what kind of butt do you have? Do you have a "slight" bump or a mound that would make Sir Mix-a-Lot think up a new rhyme for anaconda? What's your solution to ill-fitting denim? Anyone else ever give clothes away to a friend only to discover they look 100 times better in them? And lastly, where would you wear these??

What to Wear on a Book Cover? [Heeeellllpppp Meeeeee!!!!]

Good news! I have a pub date for my book. The Great Fitness Experiment (tree-killer edition) will be on shelves Dec. 1st! Just in time to buy a copy for everyone on your Christmas/Hannukah/Kwanzaa/Christmaskuh list.

Scary news! They want me on the cover. I voted for Giselle but apparently she's out of our budget. Le sigh. I just found out yesterday that my photo shoot is tomorrow. Pro: No time for any crazy crash dieting. Con: WHAT DO I WEAR??? I can't even dress my preschooler in matching clothes much less make myself look good.

Please help me out! Here are some possible options with a handy dandy poll at the bottom to vote for your fave.

Keep this in mind:
- Ignore the hair. Yes I lopped 10 inches off but it is naturally curly and will be curly for the shoot tomorrow.
- Ignore my inability to focus the camera.
- Ignore all the white spots all over me - they're from my dirty bathroom mirror.
- My bathroom has a skylight, hence all the weird lighting.
- I'm going for realllly basic. I don't want to wear any of my kooky clothes (99% of my wardrobe, honestly) because I'm afraid I'll look back at this in 10 years and have a Jane Fonda-Leotard moment of horror.
- If you don't like any of the options, feel free to give me suggestions in the comments!! (Although anything with the phrase "just a sports bra" will be laughed off the page.)


Pink Lululemon Jacket (a baby gift from Reader VAMomof2! I love you!!) & Black Running Tights (note Jelly Bean acting as stylist as prop drooler):





Grayish Purple (with shiny blue logo you can't see because I can't figure out how to hold a camera) tee with long black pants:

Blue v-neck cap sleeve tee with long black pants:


Hot pink Nike tee (yes, this is the one from the 20/20 show) with black wide-leg Nike capris:


Robin's egg blue Oiselle tee (with bird logo) and black capris:


Maroon Nike tee with gray Shabby Apple mid-calf leggings:

poll by twiigs.com

poll by twiigs.com

Gym Buddy Poll: How Do You Put on Your Bra?

I love a good Do-It-Yourself project! You should never let a good pair of used undies go to waste.

Rowing until we (nearly) puked. Chest pressing our body weight (because we totally weigh 65 pounds). CrossFit's workout of the day for today would have been bad enough all on its own. But our gym upped the ante today by throwing a rainy, muggy day and a very sweaty, smelly gentleman into the mix. Lest you think I'm some kind of gym prude that thinks all bodily functions should be left at home, let me say that I have a very very high tolerance for other people's B.O. And this guy was rank. His smell was so bad that he actually caused another weightlifter dude to kick us off our weight bench so that he wouldn't have to smell the sweaty guy. Impropriety abounded.

I gagged on the rowing machine - which incidentally now I totally get why you all call it an "erg" seeing as that's the sound I was making, yelling to Gym Buddy Allison, "This place smells SICK!" Except that she heard a rather more, ahem, obscene version. I blame the wind generated by the rowing machines for spreading the smell around because after that neither of us could think of anything else other than how it really did smell like what Gym Buddy Allison suggested.

After our workout was finished, we congregated on the stretching mats that still smelled very much like rhymes-with-sick to chat, look up stuff on our phones and basically do everything but stretch. Building on our prior inappropriate conversation, talk turned to bras and how one puts them on and takes them off. Up until today I had no idea that there was more than one way to do up a bra.

This ended up being surprisingly divisive. Two of the Gym Buddies insisted that the best way to do it is to turn it backwards and hook the clasp in front before turning it back around and then slipping your arms in the straps. (Reverse that process for taking it off.) Me and the remaining Gym Buddy use a simpler method: we put the bra on and then reach around the back and hook the clasp. Removing it is done by again just reaching around the back. Us being us, we had to debate the varying methods and then start questioning random people around us, including one older gentleman who was less surprised than I thought he'd be (apparently he's heard our stretching-mat convos before) but wisely declined to give an opinion.

So now I have to know! How do you put your bra on? (Click through to take the Gym Buddy Poll of the day!)

poll by twiigs.com

Anyone else do the WOD today? Anyone ever been nearly strangled trying to get a sweaty sports bra off over your head? Do you have a stretching-mat question for the Gym Buddies?

The Girly Side of Weight Lifting (Giveaway!)

Who says eating healthy and staying fit has to hurt? Crossfit does, that's who. Today's workout of the day had the Gym Buddies and I power snatching 75 times. Oh yes, you read that right - 75 reps of this:



We were supposed to be snatching 75 pounds. Krista managed to snatch that twice while the rest of us watched in awe and then we finished the WOD on 45 pounds which sounds all hot stuff until you consider that is just the weight of the bar. Yeah we're awesome. Also, my arms want to fall off now.

Nothing like a sweaty session throwing around - literally, in our case today - the iron to make you crave some creature comforts. To see how I girlified Crossfit and to win some Shabby Apple clothing, click through to my giveaway site for all the details!

How do you feel about working out in a skirt? What's your favorite workout clothing item? Anyone else have more workout clothes than regular clothes? Were any of you able to do all 75 power snatches with the 75-lb bar??

Your Period Cramping Your Workout Style? There's a Shoe For That!

If you are a woman, you must watch this video. I dare you not to laugh inappropriately loud.

Benjamin Franklin forgot something when he said "nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes." He forgot menstrual cycles. Being that he's a man, I suppose I'll have to forgive him for not knowing what millenia of women do: That every month the majority of us women between 12 and 50 will spew stain-inducing bodily fluids with a regularity and frequency that put both death and taxes to shame (after all, unless you're Elvis you'll only die once.)

The worst thing about Aunt Flo, Aunt Rosie, My Friend, Mother Nature's Visit, My Present - besides the stupid nicknames we give it - isn't that it knows no regard for expensive cruises, athletic tournaments or white dresses being worn while riding a white horse on a white beach inexplicably holding a white badminton racket; it's the hormone fluctuations that go up and down behind the scenes. At their very worst, out-of-control progesterone and estrogen fluctuations cause misery ranging from wicked PMS/PMDD to cystic acne to unwanted facial hair. (side note: Ever notice how it's always "unwanted facial hair"? Is there such a thing as wanted facial hair? Eyebrows, I suppose. But even those we pluck, wax or thread into submission.) But we know all this already. The part we rarely talk about is the effect of our monthly hormone cycles - and you still have some hormone fluctuations even if you're on a hormonal birth control method that lessens or eliminates your period - on our workouts.

I once had a yoga teacher ask me if I was menstruating. No, I hadn't leaked all over my yoga mat (although that would have made for one heck of a story) but we were getting ready to do headstand inversions and she wanted to make sure none of the women were bleeding because - and I swear she actually said this to me - going upside down would inhibit my uterus from being able to expel the blood because of gravity working against it. I did not retort that seeing as my uterus is a very large powerful muscle capable of expelling whole human beings, it would probably be okay with a few extra g's pulling on that blood. Not to mention that if our hearts can still pump while we are upside down I don't see why the rest of our body wouldn't be similarly able. Needless to say I did the headstands anyways. And yes, I did happen to be "men-stroo-ating." While my period hasn't affected my yoga practice much, it has put a crimp in some of my other workouts.

Period-induced weakness is a topic that comes up with the Gym Buddies and I about once a month - our bodies have all been kind enough to synch up our cycles (you know you are close friends when you even menstruate together). All of us swear that in the few days right before the Crimson Tide (I love you Cher Horowitz!) crashes over us, we lose stamina in our cardio, strength in our weight lifting and the final kick in our chocolate-stained teeth: our pain threshold is lowered. To say nothing of feeling bloated in our spandex Nike leggings. Lest you think this is a mass hysteria (hysteria: translated from Greek meaning literally "roving uterus"), science backs us up. Well, sort of.

While exercising while shedding your uterine lining can be uncomfortable and inconvenient (although this can be mitigated by using a Diva Cup - I cannot tell you enough how much I love that thing!), thanks to both progesterone and estrogen being at their lowest right before the blood hits, the most deleterious effects from your cycle are usually experienced in the pre-menstruating phase. There aren't that many studies on menstruating female athletes but the few that exist do seem to show "best performances during the intermediate postmenstrual days and worse performances during premenstrual and initial-flow days." Women exercising in this phase can expect to feel "increased fatigue" "slight decreases in aerobic capacity and strength" as well as "an increase in perceived exertion" (i.e. you get whiny because doing your usual workout feels twice as hard). To add insult to injury - literally - we're also more susceptible to injury during the menstrual phase of cycle thanks to the work of another hormone, relaxin, that peaks during this phase.

But who needs research when you have a good PR firm? In our ongoing effort to medicalize and then advertise every normal bodily function, Asics has recently come out with a new shoe designed specifically to adjust to a woman's hormone cycles. When you're on your period and your feet swell, the shoe automatically alters its padding to accommodate your hobbit feet. And then when you've finished bloating like you're your own flotation device, they shrink back down again.

Nobody - not the experts, not me and certainly not the shoe companies - is going to tell you to skip exercise just because you're on the rag. In fact, I personally have found vigorous exercise to be the best way to relieve cramps. But I do give you full permission to be cranky while you work out. And the experts recommend easing up a bit during the week right before, and the first few days of, your period. Olympic powerlifting coaches recommend lifting a little lighter either by decreasing your reps or your weight loads. Also, don't feel bad about listening to your body. If you feel more fatigued than normal, scale back that long run. Don't try and push through - this is not the time to try for that PR or up your one-rep max - because you are at a greater risk of injury. Just remember, no period lasts forever and you will fit back into your pants again.

Birth Control Update TMI
In case I haven't sent you all running yet, you're about to get even more up close and personal with my (vacant, yay!) uterus. A while back I wrote a post about trying to figure out the best birth control method and received quite a large number of informative, opinionated and impassioned comments. I ended up choosing to get the Mirena IUD (a.k.a. the "hormonal" intrauterine device). I was worried due to a lot of anecdotal reports I'd heard about it leading to weight gain or making it hard to lose weight after the baby is born. While I can't make any conclusive statements - I have NOT lost all my baby weight yet (which I'm trying to be zen about but you know is driving me nuts) - I've had it in for about 5 months now and have lost some weight. I certainly haven't gained any since having it put it in. Thanks for tuning in to this unscheduled uterine update!

So, Ladies (every time I say that I want to finish it with "you wanna roll my Mercedes?") - any of you noticed a difference in your workouts right before and during your period? Would you still do handstands? Would you buy special "period sensitive" workout shoes? So, Men - have I made you really uncomfortable yet? Just made you glad all over again you're not a girl?

Models Falling From the Sky: Thin is Not the New Black

Suicide is in the air. Kazakh model Ruslana Korshunova dove to her death from her New York balcony. Canadian model Hayley Kohle leapt to a similar fate from a balcony in Milan. On the same day as Kohle, model Randy Johnston died of a drug overdose. Columbian model Lina Marulinda also chose a free fall from a balcony. But there are other ways to die in the air besides jumping. Models Lucy Gordon, Daul Kim and Ambrose Olsen all recently hanged themselves, Olsen just last month. And of course, the inimitable designer Alexander McQueen ended his fashion juggernaut along with himself by hanging last February. Death is not yet in the ground. Just a few days ago model Noemie Lenoir was found in a forest, nearly succumbed to an intentional drug overdose. Mercifully she is recovering. [Source]

These deaths should not have happened.

By all accounts each of these young models and McQueen were at the height of their careers. Not only were they young and impossibly beautiful in a world that values nothing more but they had also achieved a degree of success in a highly competitive, fickle field. Why they would want to end their lives is a personal and, most likely, unanswerable question. And yet if anyone would have a reason to live, you'd think it would be these who were living the very definition of the dream.

Tragically many people every year choose to end their own lives and so I am not sure if this recent spate of model suicides (that looks funny every time I type that, as if they are modelling the proper way to die - setting the fashion to the very end) is disproportionate to that of the general population. But I do know this: if you ever needed proof that being thin and beautiful is not the secret to happiness than this is it.

Most of us can say when confronted with such an obvious example that of course being skinny, young and hot doesn't automatically make you happy- Pamela Anderson alone should be cautionary tale enough - and yet we are sold this exact message in hundreds of insidious ways every day. Many of us buy into it. I buy into it. It's so pervasive that I'm amazed whenever I run into a woman who doesn't believe it. I want to grab her buy the shoulders and ask her where she gets her incredible self confidence, why she hasn't been been beaten down by the relentless message that she isn't enough, but she could be if she just lost weight/erased wrinkles/got bigger boobs/lightened her hair/got a better wardrobe/colored her eyes/toned her tummy (in 10 days! See page 54!)

There isn't anything wrong with trying to be beautiful, to be healthy, to be your best self. And yet this drive to improve - or "addiction to fixing" oneself as one astute e-mailer put it - is a problem when it engenders self hatred. How is anything beautiful supposed to come out of hate? Ironically this tactic of self-hate is often one of the first weapons we employ, turning self improvement into self warfare. It does work. Sort of. You can hate yourself thin. I've done it before. But then you are just thin and unhappy, like so many falling models.

We live in an era where a diet - a diet! - is unironically called "Live Your Best Life." (You can even buy your "Best Life" at your local grocery store, just look for the little green labels on your favorite brands! It doesn't say but I'm assuming if you collect enough of the Best Label boxtops and mail them to Oprah then your Best Life will arrive by mail 4-6 weeks later.) Where losing weight is the fastest way to gain instant celebrity, or if you are already a celebrity to get a magazine cover. Where despite the highest unemployment rate in recent history, cosmetic sales and plastic surgery are increasing at an unprecedented rate. An era where models rain from the sky.

It's sheer craziness. It's jumping-off-a-balcony madness. I know all this and yet, deep down, I still believe if I could just lose these last 10 pounds I'd be happy. But thanks in no small part to you all, I think I'm finally willing to give that belief up. It feels scary to me. For one, I've believed this as long as I can remember. I may have outgrown Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy but I still cling with child-like devotion to the Beauty Bunny. And also, I'm convinced that this perpetual war with myself, this intense hatred, is the only thing between me and weighing 1,000 pounds and being housebound for the rest of my life. I'm afraid that if I give up fighting then I'll lose everything. But I think that too is a myth. By fighting myself how can I do anything but lose? The key to my freedom is to give up the fight. Can I trust my body that it wants to be healthy? I hope I can. Because nobody should be falling; we should be flying.

Anyone else buy into the myth that thinness equates to happiness? Anyone else addicted to fixing themselves? Anybody else convinced that fighting yourself is the only thing keeping you from oblivion? Anybody totally sick of reading about this still?? (Anyone? Bueller? Bueller??)