Foam Rolling: Fitness Miracle or Fad?

Hmm, yes, the rolling pin was the tip-off that shenanigans were about to ensue. "Something bad was going to go down" indeed!

"Hurts so good!" "Absolute must-do!" "MIRACULOUS!!" It was that last one that got me and not just because it turned exercise into a religious experience on par with seeing the Virgin Mary in a pancake. For all my professed cynicism (not really, I'm like an eager puppy), I'm as interested in the next fitness "miracle" as the next girl. Twitter schooled me today. As is often the case with me in social mediums I don't understand, I was randomly eavesdropping on other people's conversations and came across several people singing the above praises of the foam roller. Personal Trainer Deb Roby even tweeted, "I teach all my clients to foam roll before a workout," adding that it is "magical*." Magical! Yes, this thing:

My first reaction was, "Really?!?" We have used foam rollers before, both in stretching and in actual workouts. The Gym Buddies and I even dedicated an entire month during the Core Performance for Women Great Fitness Experiment to getting intimate with this cheap piece of plastic (made even more awkward by the fact that our Y only has one roller basically making all of us sloppy seconds.) We were, to a woman, unimpressed. The tennis ball produced more of a good massage and muscle release although Gym Buddy Megan broke my heart and refused to share hers. Did I mention I love the tennis ball to get deep into my glutes (a la the piriformis-beleaguered MizFit)? It's probably all for the best we did not share the butt ball.

My second reaction to all the hype was, "Clearly I'm doing it wrong." After all, all those Twitter folks are way smarter than I am. (And I'm not being facetious - they really are a bunch of smart sugar-free flourless protein cookies.) But after watching this video tutorial, from Ryan at No More Bacon, where a girl (whose hair I deeply covet) demonstrates how to use a foam roller, I realized: I've totally been using the foam roller right. And it hasn't done a thing for me. Stymied! By a piece of bike-helmet foam!

What to do? Consult the experts of course! The CrossFit Nor'easter blog commands you to repeat, "“I want to roll everything! Rolling is good! Rolling is our pal!” Which I did. And then snickered. A lot. Because I'm immature like that. They add,

"Foam rollers offer many of the same benefits as a sports massage, without the big price tag. The foam roller not only stretches muscles and tendons but it also breaks down soft tissue adhesions and scar tissue. By using your own body weight and a cylindrical foam roller you can perform a self-massage or myofascial release, break up trigger points, and soothe tight fascia while increasing blood flow and circulation to the soft tissues."

Well, now I see my problem. First, I have never had a sports massage. (Confession: I've never had any massage ever because I have an irrational fear of being naked alone in a room with a stranger. On second thought, that fear seems totally rational.) So I have nothing to compare the beautiful torture of the foam roller with. Second, I have no idea what a myofascial release is. But it certainly sounds like something I would want - especially because then I would only have to get naked with myself! Ahem. The Nor'easters to the rescue again, quoting about.com:

"Myofascial release is a body work technique in which a practitioner uses gentle, sustained pressure on the soft tissues while applying traction to the fascia. This technique results in softening and lengthening (release) of the fascia and breaking down scar tissue or adhesions between skin, muscles and bones. Myofascial release has also been shown to relieve various muscle and joint pains such as IT band syndrome and shin splints as well as improving flexibility and range of motion."

Now I definitely want a piece of that! Google tells me that a fascia is "band of fibrous connective tissue separating or binding together muscles and organs." Obviously you would not want those to get overly tight (except perhaps in the bladder region and then, you know, all of us moms would like them to cinch back up like a paper bag if you please) and I hope I don't have scar tissue either.

Rachel Cosgrove (of this month's Experiment fame) is totally on the foam rolling bandwagon as well. At the end of each workout she instructs us to do "15 minutes of foam rolling" even on off days. We've ignored her advice. First there's the one diseased roller issue (although they're not that expensive so I suppose I could invest in one - marketing opportunity: anyone want to send me one for free? Either that or I could sew a cloth foam-roller condom and instruct the Gym Buddies not to wear shorts.) and second there's the whole disaffected problem. But after today, I am resolved to give the roller a second chance. Especially because I don't want to get to the end of this Experiment and wonder if my results could have been better had I done everything she told me to (which, for the record, I am doing everything else she instructs including drinking a nasty protein shake after my weight workouts, on the stretching mats even!).

The whole reason I didn't think much of the roller in the first place was it never felt like anything. People talk of screaming pain and crying and whatnot and all I got was a little shaky from having to hold myself up on my already-worked out arms for so long. Why don't I feel anything? Should I add weights? Help me to love the roller! - how can I make the foam roller work for me? Do you love the foam roller? Do you use it before or after a workout? Both? What benefits have you seen from it? Do you have to be injured to benefit from it?

*Deb has promised a whole week on her blog of posts dedicated to the wonder of the foam roller. I'm eagerly anticipating this!

Finding Your "Best" Weight

Cartoon Credit: The inimitable XKCD.

Woman #1, to me: Girl, you look good! Got rid of all that baby weight! But don't you lose anymore 'cause you're right on the edge of scary skinny, know what I mean?

Woman #2, also to me: Oh you are over that edge, eat a sandwich already!

Woman #3: Shut up! Charlotte, you look fine but definitely don't gain any weight!!

I'm not sure if every woman is the subject of such weight scrutiny or if this is further evidence of my magnetic ability to draw weird comments (probably both) but this conversation sent me on the crazy roller coaster from elation to worry to chagrin in the 15 seconds it took to say it. First I'm perfect, then I'm too thin and then I'm borderline too big? This is exactly what drove Goldilocks to start hiding her porridge under her napkin and taking excessively long hikes in the woods. Fairytale gone bad, my friends.

In an effort to settle the debate - because of course I can't trust my own opinion, I'm nuts remember? - I asked a fourth friend what she thought. Not even glancing at my figure, she gave me a sheepish smile and said, "You know me, no such thing as 'too thin'..." Which is when I realized that my weight is a Rorshach test for how other women feel about their bodies and how each person interprets our societal standards about beauty. I can't trust other people's opinions any more than I can trust my own and yet, just like Goldilocks can't stop sleeping in stranger's beds, I can't stop asking for other people's thoughts.

This question is on my mind because, as those of you who follow me on Twitter already know, my baby Jelly Bean turned one on Friday! (Incidentally the exact same day Heather Eats Almond Butter and her husband welcomed their sweet baby into the world - how cool is that?!) And lurking in the background of the joyous present-opening (why play with the toy when you can shred the wrapping paper?) and the naked cake rolling (her, not me, although I was tempted) that marked this huge milestone (Joy = no more SIDs risk!!) was the Weight Question.

There's a rule that is drilled into the mind of every expectant mother that she has until the baby's first birthday to peel off those baby pounds. After that you get no more free pass and people will resume judging you. Although with all the celebrity baby explosions lately, that free year has been whittled down to a free month. And to be honest, I did pretty well with it. By 9 months post-partum I had just two stubborn pounds hanging around. Then as if by magic (or by barfing my way through a ten-mile race), on her first birthday there I was at exactly my pre-pregnancy weight. Yay?

Here's the slippery slope: My pre-baby weight - three pounds = my "ideal" weight (picked arbitrarily in my head from looking at pictures). But I can guarantee you that once I hit my "ideal" weight then I'll want to lose just a few more pounds to have a safe buffer around that number. And usually by that point I'll want just a few more gone because even though I'll have visible ribs, a chest that makes xylophones weep in envy and collarbones that could take your eye out, my thighs will still have their fatty bits at the top and my hips will still have a little extra padding. (Dear Charlotte, your thighs are Siamese twins. They have never ever not touched. Separating them would be traumatizing. Stop trying - you are not meant to have legs that are widest at the knee.) And so it goes with never feeling good in my skin, with no weight ever being low enough.

I refuse to let that happen again. REFUSE.

I have been down that path to self-hatred more times than I can count. And I have learned that thin does not guarantee happiness. In fact, at my thinnest I was supremely unhappy because I was a) really hungry b) really worried about how to maintain that weight and c) still sure I was fat! But that leaves me with the question of where exactly then is my best, healthiest weight? Do I go by BMI? By what my husband says? My friends (see above, ahem)? My doctor? A website that calculates via a survey what weight other people find you most attractive at? (Yes those websites exist and no I'm not linking one because they are crazy making in the extreme.)

When I was complaining about my "last three pounds" (I know, first-world country problem) to Gym Buddy Allison she pointed out, "How cool is it that you lost all your baby weight without dieting??" And the Intuitive Eating lightbulb clicked on. She's right. For the first time, eating whatever my body needs (not necessarily whatever it wants), I've lost my pregnancy weight without craziness. That's a freaking coup. (For reference, after the last two babies were born I ended up in eating disorder treatment.) And that's also my answer: if I trust my body enough to tell me when it's hungry and when it's full then I also have to trust it enough to tell me when it is at a healthy sustainable weight - whether or not that is the magic number in my head. That is a very scary thought for me. How will I know it when I hit it? What range should I expect for normal fluctuations? How do I quiet the crazy thoughts that tell me it's just not enough? And yet I'm 100% committed to making this work because these past few months I've come to enjoy an ease and, dare I say it?, JOY around food. I'm not giving that up. Even if it means hanging on to a few "extra" pounds.

Please help me out - tell me how you know when you are at your "best" weight! How have you learned to trust yourself? Anyone else get caught in that slippery slope of "just a couple more pounds and then I'll be perfect"?? What do you say when people comment about your weight?

Touching in the Gym: People Skills 101

I wonder what the Yoga Guru would have said about this kind of yogic touching.

My friends paid a boy to kiss me. I was sweet sixteen and never been kissed - a fact that I remain unapologetic about to this day - but my friends decided that the best birthday present they could give me would be a soft-lipped hottie to revoke my VL membership. It didn't quite turn out the way they had planned. First of all, the only person they could come up with was a random frat boy from the local university. I don't think any of us, least of all me, even knew his name. Second, they paid him $20 which given the state of his hygeine I think he should have paid me.

Much to my parents' amusement, my friends tarted me up (which in those days involved a lot of black eyeliner, ratty clothing and jewelry with spiders on it) and then trotted me off to meet said boy. He was behind a friend's house, half hidden in the shadows like some kind of pervert. Which, given his age, my age and the circumstances, he kind of was. Before I could even get a good look at him (floppy hair, acne, muscley arms), he growled, "So how you wanna do this?"

I snorted, adjusted my goth jewelry and growled back, "I don't know. I'm the amateur here, remember?"

And so I got a "cat's butt kiss" - aptly christened by my high school friend T to describe the similarity between my tightly puckered mouth and and the business end of a feline - for my first kiss.

"What was it like?" my friends all shrieked before The Hired Help was even out of ear shot.

"Like kissing my dad."

He hung his head. I blushed. Everyone was humiliated. Mission accomplished.

This little episode of Bad Touch 101 was brought to mind the other day when I asked a Yoga Guru a question and she gave me a totally unexpected answer.

My Yoga Question: "My instructor never adjusts me. Is it appropriate to ask her to do so? She seems to be "hands off" in general but otherwise a good teacher." (Backstory: I love yoga. In every yoga class I've ever taken, the teacher has always done little manual adjustments to my form. It helps. I can't see myself when I'm upside down. And a teeny adjustment can make a huge difference in the effectiveness of the pose.)

The Yoga Guru's Answer: Is very long. But in summary they basically said that I might be a perv. Or the teacher might be a perv. Or perhaps neither one of us are pervs but instead might have been touched by pervs in the past (which, as you all know, I have) and therefore might interpret any touch as pervy. It was all very My Body, My Rules from eighth grade health class.

Bad Touch
It was not what I had expected. But it sure did give me a lot to think about because gyms are a unique environment for touching, both good and bad. Most of the girls I know have had some kind of workout experience involving bad touch from a man - usually just a touch or a pat done accidentally-on-purpose. (Another classic is the boob-squishage hug also known as the reason I will only sweaty hug girls now.) My last memorable experience of this type involved a man who, over the course of a five-minute conversation, kept moving closer and closer to me. To which I responded by stepping farther and farther back. Until I was literally up against a wall. I actually had to duck under his arm and push him out of my way to end the conversation. Which thankfully he let me do. I don't think he meant me any harm. I think he was just oblivious. But it still made my heart pound in a very uncomfortable way.

The opposite may also be true although I don't have any first-hand knowledge of it. Any of you guys ever been on the receiving end of unwanted attention at the gym?

Good Touch
The thing is, the gym is a great place to practice good touching. A high five, a pat on the shoulder, a form correction or a close spot can all be good, helpful things. I've been known to give Gym Buddy Allison a big sweaty hug on occasion. And Gym Buddy Megan smacks my rear when she laps me on the track - a kind of combination giddyap-girl and friendly hello. Although you really have to be careful with the butt-smacking: I once had a boot-camp instructor smack the woman in front of me on the rear. I was so appalled I almost considered quitting the class right then and there. He must have seen my face because when he caught up to me on the next lap he explained the woman was his wife and that he would never, ever touch anyone else's tushie. And he's kept good on that promise, thank heavens.

Weird Touch
And then there's weird touch. Gyms are a hot bed of weird touch. Like when a male friend and I were running side-by-side in bootcamp one day and his arm hit my arm and whacked my hand down onto his thigh. Both of us blushed redder than the fire hydrant that he had dodged, which caused the embarrassing accident in the first place. He spent the next solid mile apologizing. And I spent the next mile after that telling him he didn't need to apologize.

Or just last week in Hip Hop, Turbo Jennie and I were dancing in near proximity to each other when she turned towards me at the exact moment I was doing some variation of the rodeo/who's-your-daddy move and it was all Girls Gone Wild up in there for about 3 seconds. "Keep it g-rated, Charlotte!" she yelled and I was so embarrassed that I flubbed the next 4 measures. Yeah, I accidentally freaked on my aerobics instructor.

Awkward.

Touchy Feely
So let this be a lesson to you: don't be me. Oh, wait. No, the lesson here is that there are rules and the rules are there for a reason. And the rules state that you are never to touch anyone, anywhere, for any reason. And if you decide to thwart rule number one, then you must publicly declare - preferably in writing - your intentions and the expected result. And if you still insist on touching, then at least offer to take me to dinner first.

So, enough of my embarrassing moments! Let's hear yours!! Good touch, bad touch or weird touch - what's your story of gym awkwardness? Can anyone top me for the worst first kiss ever??

Workout Leaving You Lightheaded? [The side effect of exercise no one talks about]

www.marriedtothesea.com

Gym Buddy Allison and I share many similarities: young children, a deep love of garage sales and thrift stores, and the same dark hair/light skin that always makes people ask us if we are sisters. Or just confuse one of us for the other. (Hint: she's the taller one with whiter teeth and shiny hair - basically what would happen if the Old Spice Guy knocked up the Pantene lady.) Recently we discovered we also share something else, albeit a mite more disconcerting than our preoccupation with our body fat percentage: We faint.

That's right, a condition normally associated with overly sensitive (or just overly corsetted) 19th-century rich ladies is felling super healthy Gym Buddies left and right. And it's not just fainting but general light-headedness, dizziness and blacked out vision. Before anyone wigs out, it's not as scary as it sounds, it only happens under certain circumstances and... it's perfectly normal. Um, what?

Called Orthostatic Hypotension, it's a seldom talked about side effect of exercise. While one of the known (great) side effects of exercise is lowered blood pressure, this can turn into a bit of a problem in situations that further lower your blood pressure such as suddenly stopping a vigorous exercise or suddenly changing positions. (I think I'm suddenly seeing a pattern!) Avid exercisers that already have low blood pressure are at particular risk for this. As ehow.com explains,

"Exercise can cause sudden changes in blood pressure. A change of 20 points in your blood pressure can cause you dizziness or even fainting. This happens because for that moment the brain isn't getting enough blood. Athletes and those who exercise regularly tend to have lower blood pressure and slower heart rate. So a sudden drop of 20 points could easily put an athlete into the realm of low blood pressure."

I found this out the hard way the other day while kneeling on my floor sorting ultra-adorable girly baby clothes for the Jelly Bean. (She has a silver tulle tutu! With silver patent-leather mary janes! Squeee!) I stood up to hang a dress in her closet and all of a sudden I'm hot, nauseated and my vision is all black. And next thing I know I'm slumped against the closet door on the floor with Jelly Bean staring at me with the cutest bewildered expression on her little squishy face.

This is not the first time I have experienced something like this. My normal blood pressure is usually around 85 over 60 although it's been measured lower and my resting heart rate is about 47 beats per minute. Because of this, my predilection to swoon has become a joke with my husband as I've fainted at least twice with each pregnancy. (Pregnancy is another condition that lowers your blood pressure.) But non-preggo fainting is pretty rare for me. More commonly I'm just dizzy, light-headed, nauseated and have spotty vision for a few seconds. It's remedied by remembering to stand up slowly and steadying myself with a wall or chair for a few seconds until the feeling passes. Except for the rare occasion when I actually hit the floor, these spells are barely noticeable and are not very bothersome to me.

The gym, however, amplifies these - both in intensity and in danger. For instance after doing Tabata sprints around the track with Allison one day, we both reeled to the floor in a strange, slow fall. It seems to have been a combination of working so hard and then stopping so suddenly (we were not going to run even one extra step at that level of exertion, much less take a cool-down lap!) that brought both of us momentarily insensate. Similar to that, while doing my long runs I'm fine but the second I stop running (which of course I do immediately because I'm a "sprint to the finish line" kind of girl) I usually have to sit down for a few seconds on the end of my treadmill and wait for my vision to clear before I can walk to the paper towel dispenser and spritz my 'mill down with ineffective-yet-mandatory cleaning spray.

So what about you - have you ever fainted? Locked your knees during your choir concert? Forgotten to drink water during gym class in a heat wave? Do you get dizzy etc. upon changing positions or stopping intense exercise? Any other good side effects of healthy living that end up bad?

The Must-Do Stretch For All Computer Users [Try it now!]

Downward Facing Dog - with the advanced tongue option.

Sit at a computer long enough (and you know you do), eventually your shoulders start to tighten up to your ears, your spine rounds out as you slump, your quads and hamstrings tighten up from being in the sitting position so long and - worst of all for me - you get that weird pinchy sensation between your shoulder blades. It probably doesn't help that I sit on a 20$ desk "chair" from IKEA.

So every half hour or so, lest I permanently become hunchbacked, I do my favorite stretch: Down Dog! This yoga pose (often the only yoga pose non-yoga people know because it lends itself so well to double entendres) really stretches everything from your shoulders to your chest to your calves and hamstrings. Plus it totally fixes that pinchy shoulder issue. It's just so soothing! I love it. I love it so much I have done it in a church parking lot. And a grocery store aisle (leaning on my cart). And in the hospital. I even taught a class of preschoolers how to do it (when I may or may not have been supposed to be showing them a flannel board story that I totally didn't prepare). I'm working up to someplace really socially unacceptable: fine French restaurant? Parent-teacher conference? Mid-town bus? I'll let you know.

How about the dog park?

My other favorite stretch - that I apparently adore so much I get all gussied up to do it* - is what we used to call the Chinese splits. Back in my un-P.C. days. These days they're the People's Republic of China With Bonus Oppressed Peoples of Tibet and Huiger splits.


*This pic was actually part of a Girls of Fitness Blogging calendar soon to be released. Although sadly this pic didn't make the cut so I had to post it here - didn't want to waste all that red lipstick!

What is your favorite stretch? Have you ever busted it out someplace public (besides the gym)? Anybody really get off your chair and do Down Dog??

Your Top Fears About Exercise - Solved!

This will not surprise you: I spend a considerable amount of my life trying to convince people to try new things. It ranges from small things like trying to get a stranger at the grocery store to try the free yogurt sample with me (it's less gross if you do the fiber shots with a friend!) to big things like voting (you! Vote!!) to the gross things like convincing my three pre-men that peeing IN the toilet rather than just in its general direction will result in sunshine, puppies and a happy mother (not literally puppies of course, I cannot have another incontinent bladder in the house). But aside from literally having to mop down my walls - that's why we painted them high gloss Mr. Home Depot man! - the most common changes I champion are of the fitness variety.

So, naturally, I hear a lot of excuses (some refer to them as legitimate reasons but whatevs.) They are varied and occasionally creative but they usually distill down to some variation of the following:

Excuse: I might be bad at it.
My answer: Of course you will. If you expect to be the best at everything you try then you will never try anything. Just accept that it probably won't come naturally to you - if it did you would have figured it out by now and you'd be playing pro golf with Tiger - and move on. I'll let you in on a not-so-secret of mine: I suck at most things I try. Especially at first. That's why God invented giggling. Everyone is horrible at something but it doesn't mean you still can't enjoy it! Have we learned nothing from American Idol? Other variations of this theme include "I'm too uncoordinated" "I'm not a runner" and "I spaz like a three-legged chicken whenever anyone starts counting backwards."

Excuse: I might not like it.
My answer: True. I've done lots of things I hated. But I've always learned something from it so it's not a waste of time. I'm not asking you to pick out curtains with it; just try it twice. Try it once and you'll probably hate it but go a second time and guaranteed there will be someone newer than you there. It's amazing what feeling like a "regular" does for your confidence! And if you try it twice and still hate it? Cross it off your list. You'll get no grief from me.

Excuse: People will stare at me.
My answer: You lucky dog. I've been making desperate bids for attention practically my whole life and still rarely get a chuckle from a passerby. But seriously, I do realize that some people are not as exhibitionistic as I am and balk at getting checked out. This is especially true in a gym setting but can be true for any fitness endeavor. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that people really aren't watching you. They are. They might be ranking you on the hotness scale. They might be making fun of you. They might be wondering where you got those sexysexy yoga pants. They might be staring off into the distance in your general direction. But chances are, whatever they're thinking, unless you're Marissa Miller or David Beckham, you're not the main attraction. So if you just keep going about your business, then so will they. (Alternative option: if you are really brave/confrontational, stare right back at them. Ear wiggling optional.)

Excuse: I don't know what I'm doing.
My answer: Nobody does. At least not at first. There is nothing natural about the chest press or a roundhouse - they're learned skills. And thankfully most of us "regulars" (man I feel like I'm subliminally pimping fiber here - yay for poop!) remember what it was like to be a newbie. We'll help you if you ask! Or ask a friend you trust to show you around. Or one of those gym employees standing around looking bored. Asking questions doesn't make you look silly, it makes you look smart. Besides, teachers love it when you ask them questions. It's so much easier than trying to read your mind based solely on that squinched-up face you're making.

Excuse: I might get hurt.
My answer: This one's a certainty. You will get hurt. But think how cool the battle scar will be to show off to all your buddies! I know, I know, some people have legitimate health issues but seeing as my paraplegic friend spanks me in basketball, surely you can find something that won't exacerbate your bursitis. Besides, exercise provides a huge range of health benefits so that scraped shin or rolled ankle will be totally worth it in the end! And if you tell someone you're really sore from weight lifting/yoga/recumbent hand biking then you might even get a free massage out of it. (Just don't tell them your butt is sore. I once had someone at the gym ask me to massage their butt for them because they had a big ol' knot in it. That led to one of the longest awkward silences I've ever participated in. Just... no.)

Excuse: I might get bored.
My answer: Then you're doing it wrong.

This list is by no means exhaustive so fill me in: what are you afraid of? What holds you back from exercising? You have some good advice to relieve people's fears? Has anyone ever asked you to massage a strange body part for them?

When Old People Attack: Swimming Experiment Results!

Things would have gone better for me had I had one of these caps, I know it!

Either you're a swimmer or you're not. False dichotomy though it may be, there is an easy test to see which camp you fall in. When someone tells you, "Let's swim half a mile." do you answer, "Sure! It only takes me 4 or 5 minutes to run a half mile so this should be a piece of cake!"? If so, you are not a swimmer. If you answer, "How far is a half mile? Like... 10 laps?" you are not a swimmer. If you even think, "Are goggles and a swim cap really mandatory? 'Cause the former make my eyes bulge like Marty Feldman and the latter is just ugly." then you are not a swimmer. (Although you are wicked good with your '80's movie trivia!)

If you just snap your goggles into place, jump into the pool with nary a whimper about the cold and start stroking, then you are a swimmer.

Our first pool workout for August's Great Fitness Experiment went swimmingly - you knew that was coming! - all the way up to the point where we actually got in the water. Our Y being, well, our Y, naturally there were no lanes open for actual swimming as they prefer to keep 99% of the pool available for elderly aquatics classes that oddly resemble square dancing in slow motion. So we were banished to the "leisure pool" where we did a pool workout that I got from Fitness magazine. It was ridiculously easy. We tried everything we could to get our hearts pumping but instead we ended up comparing our pedicures while sculling in random circles around the pool. (Gym Buddy Megan's toenails were a classic red, mine were a zombie-esque blue and Allison's were naked, poor thing. Knowledge you needed; you're welcome.)

If you will recall, the entire purpose of August's Swimming Experiment was to get Gym Buddy Allison ready for her very first triathlon, a sprint tri that included a half-mile open water swim. Clearly, pedi-sculling and otter-rolling over a beach ball (which is awesome fun, by the way) were not going to get us to that point. So we did what we had to do and started swimming some laps. In the 3-foot leisure pool. It only took three laps before the old folks attacked.

"You're not allowed to swim in the swimming pool!" yelled a white-haired gent without a trace of irony.

"Yeah," chimed in a woman who was obviously very invested in keeping her bouffant dry, "this is a LEISURE pool."

"Well I happen to find this very leisurely," Allison explained sweetly as we backstroked around them like some sort of rogue synchronized swimming team taking hostages.

The next day we were back in the pool again but for real this time. There was one lane open for lap swimming and we intended to use the heck out of it. No matter that it was already occupied by three other women which would make six of us in one lane. We optimistically snapped on our goggles (I borrowed mine from my eight-year-old - I'm Batman!) and plunged in.

"So... half a mile," I said. "How far is that exactly?"

"I dunno," Allison replied. "Let's ask the lifeguard."

"Do you mean a swimmer's mile or a land mile?" he asked in return.

Allison started to answer but I interrupted her with, "Whichever one is shorter."

After giving me a long considering look as if to decide whether to address me as an adult or the child I was acting like, he answered, "A swimmer's mile is 35 laps." (Another way to tell you are not a swimmer is to be unaware of the controversy surrounding how far a swimmer's mile actually is. There is calculus involved.)

We sighed with relief. "We can swim down this thing 35 times, no problem!" Allison chirped.

"You do know that a 'lap' means down and back, right?" he added.

No, sir. No we did not know that. (I must point out here that Megan did, in fact, know this but she was not there at this juncture and so it was just Allison and I, as clueless as one can be in Batman goggles.)

"Okay, we got this. We just have to swim down there 70 times!"

"No, wait," I pointed out, "we have to halve that!"

"So.... that's..." Crickets.

"Half of 70 is 35. And half of 30 is 15 plus 4 which is... 19!" I announced erroneously.

"I thought it was 18," Allison said, also wrong. (Why oh why did they have to pick an odd number?)

"Why didn't we just ask the lifeguard for a half a mile in the first place?"

"Well we can't ask him now. He already thinks we're idiots."

"We are idiots."

"Let's just start swimming and see how far we can get, ok?" Did I mention Allison only had two weeks to train for her triathlon? There's a reason the girl was getting antsy.

We made it four laps before we were clutching the side of the pool and gasping for breath. I will tell you this: In three years of trying every conceivable workout I have never been so close to vomiting as I was in that moment. There are workouts and then there is swimming. It was a gut-wrenchingly, head-to-toe achingly, can't-breathe-for-at-least-3-life-threatening-reasons brutal workout. For the first time I understood why people watch the Summer Olympics for events other than gymnastics.

I was ready to be done. But Megan was already off like a fish, ahead of us by 10 laps or so, and Allison was on a mission. We pressed on for the full half mile. (-ish, my counting got a little garbled. Turns out I can't even do basic math when my Batman goggles turn out to be complete duds and yet I have to drive home so I can't lose a contact thereby forcing me to swim with my head out of the water the entire time making me almost as ridiculous as the Bouffant Lady.)

The next day I was sore everywhere, just like several of you warned me I would be. The strangest part was that I was most sore right under each butt cheek, where my leg joins my derriere. Who knew I even had a muscle there?! The worst effect though was - heaven help me - the Gym Buddies freaking loved it. LOVED IT.

Sensing lap workouts long after August ends, I broke down and bought a decent pair of goggles. I still hate swimming. But I hate it a little less than I used to. Plus, I have to admire a workout that brutal. It never did get much easier for me - every swimming workout felt like choreographed drowning - but I did love how it made me feel when we finished.

As for Allison, despite having never swam in open water, girlfriend finished her tri under two hours and suffered nothing more serious than chocolate-covered cleavage thanks to a protein bar she was inexplicably storing down her top.

Which necessitated a little post-race clean up:

(Not pictured: my four-year-old son eating the protein bar off the ground while the rest of us were distracted congratulating her.)

She rocked the running and biking portions and, more importantly, got bit by the tri bug and is already planning her next one! Way to go, Al!!

Gym Buddy Megan and I (a.k.a. The Dry Ones) flanking our victorious girl!

So, any of you change your mind about swimming this month? Anyone else in the "I don't hate it but I'll never love it" club? What's your favorite Summer Olympics event to watch??

Scare Tactics: What Keeps You Out of the Gym?

Baffling equipment. Mean girls. Chronic cell-phone chatters. Unidentified puddles of bodily fluids. Germs. Old men on the exercise bike in nothing but tighty whities and black dress socks (true story). There are lots of reasons why people avoid the gym. Frankly, there are probably more reasons to skip the gym than to go. (Thankfully the reasons to go are much more compelling for me than those to skip it!) So when I got this e-mail from Reader M, I was simultaneously irritated - not by her! - and sympathetic:

I keep thinking that I should overcome my fat-girl-phobia and show up at a gym, and then one of these articles come along.

The article she is referring to is the recent New York Times expose (side note - can anyone please tell me how to type the little accent over the e? It's killing me. I once had to write an entire post about my awesome shiny gold leotard that I seriously do workout in, the whole time referring to it as my gold "lame" leo. That's a crime against fashion, is what that is.) "Be Sure Exercise is All You Get At the Gym."

Cue the scary Jaws music, here is yet another article about how bacteria at the gym can kill you. Every few months someone writes an article about MRSA (methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus) - an admittedly terrifying bug - being transmitted through gyms and locker rooms. While the risk is real and potentially lethal, there is a lot of selective reporting involved in this articles (cue my irritation with the NY Times, not my darling Reader M). And I've even written myself several times on this topic (warning: only click through that link if you have a strong stomach. I received more complaints about that pic than any other I have ever posted. Which I don't really get since I think it's hilarious and awesome but I'm gross like that.)

First, as the Mayo clinic points out, while community-acquired cases such as those in gyms, locker rooms and designer wedding dress sample sales (anywhere there is a lot of wrestling involved) are on the rise, "Most MRSA infections occur in people who have been in hospitals or other health care settings, such as nursing homes and dialysis centers." Second, there is a one in three chance you already are carrying MRSA on your skin right this very second. And you are probably still healthy. Lastly, if you do pick up something nasty at the gym - and according to the NY Times 1/3 of us are carrying a contagious skin infection at any given moment - it's more likely to be the unglamorous (but also undeadly) ring worm, athlete's foot, impetigo or, heaven save us from thong panties on a bicycle seat, yeast infections.

I don't want anyone to think that I'm downplaying the seriousness of antibiotic-resistant germs - I had a very dear friend nearly lose her life to one - but I do wish they'd stop using it as a Get Out of Gym free card. Sure you could catch an illness at the gym. But you could also get sick any time you leave the house. I think that the benefits of consistent exercise far outweigh the risk of illness, especially if you take common sense precautions like laying down a towel between you and the weight bench, sanitizing your machine both before and after you use it, wearing flip flops in the showers and drinking Purel straight from the bottle after tongue kissing the towel boy. (None of which I do, by the way. I'm awesome at ignoring my own advice!)

The first part of M's e-mail was what really caught my attention and sympathy though. "I keep thinking that I should overcome my fat-girl-phobia and show up at a gym." Despite the fact that I've been working out deliriously happy in a gym setting for many years now, I have definitely not forgotten how it feels to be new. Whether you are gym-phobic because you are afraid of being the fat-girl freak show or because you're afraid of burrito-ing yourself in gym equipment that has more instructions than the lathe you used in 6th grade wood shop or because you're afraid of missing the step in step class and ending up flat on your back, it all boils down to this: we're afraid of what other people will say (or even think about us).

Do I sweat too much? Is my bacne too disgusting to wear a tank top? Do I smell? Will they laugh at my ratty t and boyfriend's sweat pants? Am I too uncoordinated to do an aerobics class? Will the bootcamp instructor yell at me if I can't run a lap? Will the older women in the pool laugh at me as they pass me lap after lap after lap?

I wish I could tell you no. People are judgmental critters. I don't know if this will make anyone feel better but it happens to all of us. You aren't unique in your problems. I'm not overweight but I've had plenty of people laugh at me, talk about me, and even hawk a loogie into my hair once. I know it hurts; people will roll their eyes, elbow you out of "their" spot, mutter under their breath, giggle. But a lot of it stems from insecurity about ourselves and in my experience if you open yourself up (I know, I hate being vulnerable too!) most people turn out to be remarkably, beautifully helpful and caring. Also, I think people think about us a lot less than we think they do. Chances are that woman's stern look is actually directed at herself in the mirror as she watches her bicep curls and not at your dimpled thighs. Give us the benefit of the doubt and we may surprise you.

And for those who really would be unkind based solely on your weight/clothes/accent/skin color/experience? I'm not going to tell you to "just not care." I care what people think about me. It's very hard not to. But you can acknowledge the hurt without letting it stop you or bring you down. Their negativity will corrode their soul long after you've moved on. Making fun of an overweight person at the gym is like making fun of a sick person for going to the hospital. Exercise is for everybody - literally, every person with a body.

Do you have a gym phobia? Do you worry about germs? Have you ever been made fun of at the gym? How did you deal with it? Any advice for M? Anyone else think this germs-in-the-gym angle is way overblown or am I being flippant about a real risk?

Does Tough Love Motivate You (You Pansy)?!

She may look like an abusive boyfriend but really this is the face of love.

My cheeks hurt after my workout this morning. And yes, I know after all the discussion about Toilet Sore around here as of late you all are assuming my butt cheeks are sore. (Okay, they are. They still really really hurt from CrossFit's WOD two days ago. We had to do like 500 weighted overhead lunges!) This morning I tried out a new bootcamp class and left with my cheek-cheeks sore. As in I grinned so hard and so long that my face hurts!

Uncontrolled grinning and boot camp normally go together like Marilyn Manson and Mouseketeers:

Thank you Ben Heine for an image that will haunt me for days*.

When I think boot camp I envision screaming drill sergeants, G.I. Jane, Jillian Michaels. My instructor this morning must've missed that memo because he is the smiliest person I have ever met. He smiled introducing himself (normal), he grinned warming us up with side shuttles (slightly odd), he even beamed while talking us through a killer set of lunges (see butt sore-age above), push-ups and supermans (very strange). And I LOVED it!

The more he smiled, the more I smiled! I giggled doing butt kickers. I cheered doing bear crawls. I even cackled doing upright rows and I hate working my shoulders! Hate it!! By the time we finished class I felt as happy as when I discovered that they are making a Step Up 3 - in 3-D!! (Because nothing says Good Time like sitting around wearing dorky glasses watching the cool kids do things I can only dream about. Oh wait, that was my entire high school career.) Boot camp was good smiley fun.

It was not always this way. Back in Seattle I had an aerobics instructor - as in "Jazzercize, Jane Fonda called and she wants the '80's back" floor aerobics - who was as hard-nosed as they come. (Dearest L, you know exactly what is coming next.) Her classes were run like a tight ship. You did not walk in late. You did not leave your towel on the floor. You did not spill your water bottle. And you did not, under any circumstances, screw up the moves. (Which meant that you could not ever be new.) One errant hamstring curl while the rest of us were carioca-ing to the left earned you her pint-sized face in yours, screaming. She called people idiots. Losers. Stupid. She threw things, pushed people, stomped off in a huff. And even, on one memorable occasion, tripped someone on purpose and then yelled at them for falling. Injury, pregnancy, illness, stress - it didn't matter to her. There simply was no excuse for not performing at your 100% best.

The craziest part about all this? People loved her. And not just loved but absolutely adored! One woman brought her hot Starbucks coffee (it was Seattle) every morning. Others had followed her for 15 years from gym to gym to gym as she inevitably got fired from one place and moved on to the next. But the most telling sign was that all her classes were offered at 5:30 a.m. and they were packed. It was like living in an alternate universe where the head cheerleader goes on to be principal. And the principal has a fan club like Jerry Garcia.

I avoided her. I took her classes - with a new baby and no childcare at that gym the wee hours of the morning were the only time I had to workout and I'm a group fit girl at heart - but I did my best to stay pretty invisible. I hugged the side-middle of the room. I memorized her patterns so I wouldn't call attention to myself by messing up. I didn't arrive super early but I wasn't late either. I was respectful when I spoke to her but careful to never tell her anything personal. Didn't want her to have any ammo to use against me.

See, for me, negative attention like that doesn't motivate me. It never has. I don't do well with "tough love" and screaming has me in tears before it makes me push harder. I like my workouts to get my heart rate up but not from stressing out over being publicly chastised. I'll work 100 times harder for my smiley boot camp instructor than I ever would for her.

But everyone is not me. And that's ok! I call it the Jillian Michaels conundrum. Heck, she's made a very lucrative career out of screaming in people's faces until they cry and then sitting on them. Some people really seem to thrive with someone nailing their butt to the wall. They feel patronized by platitudes like "You can do it! You're strong and beautiful and awesome!! Yeah!!!" Others like me eat that stuff up like it's unicorn meat in sparkle gravy with a side of kittens and rainbows.

I believe there is a middle ground - the rare teacher who knows when you need a push and when you need a hug - but that sweet spot differs for everyone. What's your workout nirvana? Do you need some tough love to get your sweat on? Or do you prefer to be encouraged with You-Go-Girls? Anyone else lovelovelove dance movies regardless of how ridiculous the plot lines are??

PS> HUGE shout-out to reader Deb who came to my outdoor turbokick class tonight! Not living in California, I don't often get to meet other bloggers/readers (is it just me or are there a disproportionate number of health and fitness bloggers in Cali?) so it was a real treat to meet her! She even stuck it out through wind and rain! Thank you Deb!

*For a good time, google "things that don't go together." Hours of fun!!

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?

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?

The One Piece of Gym Equipment I've Never Tried

You'd think that I of all people would have tried every conceivable piece of gym equipment out there. And trust me, that's on my list of 100 things to do before I die. It falls somewhere after making a cheese souffle (which requires something called a "ramekin" which I totally don't have) and before figuring out who killed JFK (somebody did it, by golly). So it is with some embarrassment that I tell you that I only recently discovered the joy of the rowing machine.

Gym Buddy Allison and I were a little baffled when "rowing" showed up on our CrossFit WOD (workout of the day). It didn't say how heavy we were supposed to go or whether we were doing body rows, upright rows, bent over rows, single arm rows or frat rows. Which is odd for CrossFit since they usually spell it out for you to the letter, i.e. "deadlift 1.5 times your bodyweight." Seeing as I have a hard enough time deadlifting my toddler (although to be fair he's WIGGLY), I think somewhere CrossFit is having a good laugh at my expense.

Anyhow, after a minute or two it finally dawned us. They meant the row, row, row your boat kind of row. Allison and I stared suspiciously at the rowing machines, of which our Y has exactly two shoved back in a corner by the stretching mats. Finally we walked over and sat down on the slidey seats.
"How do they work?"

"Like I know."

"How do you change the resistance?"

"Can you?"

"What do those numbers mean?"

"It means we're slow."

"So go faster already!"

Why? Is someone chasing us?"

"Probably just some local fisherman, out for a pleasure cruise, at night... in... eel-infested waters... "

And then I looked over at Allison intently rowing her way across a fake lake to the island of Guilder and burst out laughing. Hilarity ensued. We raced. She "won." But only because I fell off my seat giggling. (Aw who am I kidding? She won outright, fair and square; that girl is crazy strong.) Then we tried synchronized rowing. With arm movements. I was about to "splash" her with the dregs from my water bottle but people on treadmills were staring. And I do have some sense of propriety. Somewhere.

It was fun!

After our CrossFit was done for the day (I still can't lift my arms over my head, thank you very much), we headed back over to canoe side-by-side across the still waters of our Cybex lake. Until we hit the rapids. And then I might've fallen off again. I can't believe it has taken me this long to try these things! It was awesome!

I don't know why but it never occurred to me to try it before. Maybe I thought it was just for old people - you know, like those bikes that you pedal with your hands. Or maybe it was just because I've never actually seen anyone on them before. Or maybe - shhh - I was secretly scared of a big ol' contraption that I had no idea how to use.

But no matter, Allison and I are going back tomorrow - to see if we can row fast enough to tow a skier. I'm going slalom. (Which is lucky for me since I cannot water ski for real. For some reason I missed that developmental milestone growing up.)

So what piece of gym equipment have you been avoiding? Do you like to row? Anyone else not know how to water ski? And, also, does anyone have a ramekin?

Remember Office rowing?? (click through to see video)

How to do a Handstand Push Up (Video!)

Weight lifting can be intimidating. While pretty much everyone can do a bicep curl or squat, things start to get tetchy when you depart from the standard five safe exercises - especially if you are doing something with a high potential for embarrassment. Fortunately, those are my very favorite moves to try. It's a win-win all around: onlookers get some good entertainment and I get to try something new.

This is the first video, courtesy of The Great Fitness Experiment Gym Buddies, in a series of Fitness Moves You Think You Can't Do (But You Really Can!). (My next tutorial will be on how to write really long awkward titles with random capitalization. I'm a pro.)

On the agenda today: Handstand Push Ups!


click through to the site to see the video

Note: The Gym Buddies would like me to tell you that they do not normally tuck their shirts into their pants a la Steve Urkel. I gave them zero warning we were doing this and they were great sports about it!

Do any of you love handstands like I do? Any newbies willing to try it out? What's your favorite weird-o fitness move? Also, what do you think of me adding the occasional video post like this one? Should I keep the videos or stick to text only?

PS> Thanks to FitJerk for convincing me to do a video post (not that it took a lot of convincing...)

Fitness Advice: Do you Walk Your Own Talk? (Giveaway Post!!!)

Today Charlotte's roulette of unfortunate personal experiences is brought to you by the number one most feared word of fit folk everywhere. Nope, it's not "thong". Nor is it "Richard Simmons". (Because that's two words and, also, I happen to love him and his dance-tight clad legs.) It's also not "Whirlpool closed for cleaning" although that really does strike terror into my heart because you know it's not just routine maintenance that would shut down a jacuzzi in the middle of a busy gym day; you can bet your sparkly Richard Simmons branded thong (with attached tights) that bodily fluids are on the lam. (True story: One of the Gym Buddies recently witnessed a woman popping her man's bacne in the hot tub. There just isn't enough chlorine in the world to make that ok.)

The word is injury.

If you've been exercising more than a few days, you have probably had an injury. Perhaps if you are as klutzy as I am, you even have a collection of them. At this very moment I am sporting a nice bruise on my upper arm from walking directly into a stationary bike. That I had just finished riding. I also have at least 3 purple marks from where the Jelly Bean's carseat whacks my leg when I carry her in that back-spraining monstrosity. I also have a blackened toenail where I tripped over a weight stand and a spot on my jaw that is still smarting from where I punched myself in the face during Saturday's ultra sweaty Turbokick class.

To quote the ever-quotable Monty Python, these are merely a flesh wound. Sadly, I recently acquired an Injury with a capital I. The bane of exercise aficionados everywhere, these Injuries sideline you during events, wreak havoc with training schedules and are horrible for morale. Plus it makes me feel old. It's my hip, you see.

During my last pregnancy, if you recall, I had to quit running at about 5 months along because of excruciating hip flexor pain. While quitting running helped some, the pain increased until by the end of my pregnancy I couldn't lift up my legs to put them in my pants. I had to - and I'm not kidding you - use my hands and lift them sideways because while No Pants Day is regularly celebrated at our house it's not socially acceptable to take that party out on the street. Thankfully after Jelly Bean was born, the pain went away and I thought I was back to good.

So good in fact that I resumed daily exercise with Jelly Bean in a front pack, at one week post-partum and returned to TurboKick at 4 weeks post-partum. The funny part of this whole story is how I kept telling the Gym Buddies I was going to take it easy because I didn't want to get hurt. Specifically, I'd read a ton about what happens to the stomach muscles after childbirth and I didn't want to make my diastisis (the vertical separation between the abs) widen, or worse, pooch out. I even routinely admonished Gym Buddy Allison whose baby is 1 month older than Jelly Bean and has the most glorious red hair I have ever seen, to lay off the ab work and focus on the Tupler technique.

But why would I take my own advice? It's so much more fun to get injured! Plus it's great blog fodder, right?

Which is how I found myself a month ago back to lifting my leg (mercifully just the left one this time) into my pants with my hands. Stairs were painful. Climbing out of the car was misery. And TurboKick - with all it's kicking, duh - was excruciating. Did I stop? No. I just upped my whine factor. At first I thought the problem was with my kicking form. Then I thought I had strained a ligament by running again too soon. But neither stopping running nor modifying all my kicks to knee lifts (yeah I was awesome to watch) helped and the pain got worse.

Then it hit me: You know what I'd gone full-bore back into right after having a baby? Ab work. P90X's special ab ripper workout was ripping my abs in a wholly unintended way. I finally figured out that my stomach muscles are simply not strong enough yet to do any move requiring me to hold my legs off the ground (like bicycles or Russian twists or pretty much all of the TurboKick ab moves). My hips were kicking in to help my weak abs and the pressure on my lower back and hips led to the injury in my hip flexor. Within days of backing off the ab work and sticking only to moves where my back was supported and my feet stayed on the floor, the pain started to get better. Now, 2 weeks down the road I'm pain free. Thankfully it seems that I caught the problem before I permanently hurt myself. But boy howdy do I feel stupid.

On another gym front, however, I did make a smart move. I found the awesomest bra ever! Actually it found me by way of a review from superfit blogger Mama Sweat. She and I have many things in common - running, Minnesota, books that are taking forever to get published - but thanks to our four (each) happily breastfed babies, we also share weirdly problematic boobs (They change cup sizes every hour! They leak! They sag! Unless they have mastitis and then they're like rocks!). So when she blogged about her love of the "Handful" bra - how could you not love it with a name like that? (Tagline: Designed to flatter, not flatten!) - I knew I had to try one. This bra rocks. At first glance it looks as if it wouldn't be very supportive, what with those skinny straps:

PS> Thanks for all the nice compliments on my zebra workout tank! I love it too! Even better: I got it for 3$ on clearance. Some days the universe smiles.

But I put that bra through the works. It held up (and held the girls up) great through running, kickboxing, weight lifting and everything else I threw its way. Want to read more about the Handful and enter to win one of your very own? Click through to my giveaway page!

When it comes to fitness, do you "walk your talk" ? Or has anyone else ever get an injury from not taking their own advice? What's your scariest fitness word??

Blast Your Booty: 5 Moves to a Bodacious Backside

Gym Buddy Krista's face says it all, I think. There was pain (like two nails driven into my butt cheeks, not to mention serious ham and quad soreness) but there was also much laughter.

After FitJerk shredded our abs, you'd think I'd be leery of handing our delicate lady behinds over to him but you know me and a good challenge. Besides, this is our "rest week" on P90X and we needed a little variety to spice up our Core Synergistics (the least restful workout ever, Tony Horton!!) and Yoga (of which the Gym Buddies are boycotting). So Monday found us kicking, lifting, squatting and - heaven help us - thrusting our butts to high heaven. All in the middle of a very crowded weight floor. Mondays are the day the staff reserve to give the elderly folks the tour of the fitness floor. We got a ton of stares and quite a few comments. Thankfully dollar bills were not involved.

But, (or butt! hee!) let's get to the workout. I'll let Fit Jerk explain it to you. He even went to the effort of drawing you cute little illustrations. The Gym Buddies and I will interpret:

This workout has been a while in the making… I mean just ask Charlotte. I told her about it like a month a go and after some trial runs I finally got everything up to speed and we have a workout that will quite literally spank you silly.

Charlotte's note: My butt hurts. A lot. No spanking necessary, thank you.

The making: A while back I challenged Charlotte to try my insane ab workout and to my surprise she got a bunch of her friends together and put them through sweet agony. Nothing says friendship like “hey, come feel the massive burn of lactic acid with me!” – I should know, I put my good friend and training partner through this 3 times a week. Sometimes 4, then he hates me. So I figured, why not throw up a new challenge for her? So I picked a body part I get asked about a lot, and made a workout to help make it spectacular.

Alright let’s get on with it.

The Booty Blast: Working Out Your Behind So You Can Move Forward in Life

Golden Rule: Rest 90 seconds between each exercise and 60 seconds between each set.

R = Reps
S = Sets
mx = Maximum Reps (Till failure)
/ = Divides the # of reps you need to do per set

Exercise 1: Standing Kickbacks
S = 3 (per leg)
R = 20/20/mx

First of all, I should mention that you can do this while standing OR on the floor by going on all fours (hands and knees). Do whatever works for you. The concept is simple: Pick a leg and bring the knee up into a 90 degree bend. Flex your toes upward and kick your legs back while simultaneously driving you heels into a non-existent target. If someone was standing behind you while doing a kick back, they should get impaled by the heel of your foot. It’s like a mule kick. YEEEHANWWW! TO make it challenging, you can always kick higher but to REALLY feel it in the bum, try holding your leg for a second or two once extended, then bring it back.

Strangely no one wanted to volunteer to stand behind Allison to get kicked. Yeah, I know she smiles all cute but girlfriend kicks like a donkey.

Workout 2: Deep Hack Squat
S = 3
R = 15/20/mx

You will need some kind of machine for this since I don’t want most of you doing the traditional barbell hack squat. The thing with the hack squat is that your legs are out in front of you… so as you go down into the squat it will look as if you’re sitting in a chair. Think of doing a wall sit… its a similar position, but you go deeper. If your gym does not have a hack squat machine, you can use the leg press machine and just keep your feet in front as much possible. Having your heels under your knees is a good way to think of it. Also, don’t rush it… slow and controlled. For those that know how to read tempo, do 212.

Fit Jerk didn't give me a cute little drawing for this one so you get my best attempt at good form. Yes, it feels as weird as it looks but trust me - with your feet out that far you really really feel it in your tush.

See those red marks across my shoulders? The sign of a really heavy hack squat! I love a good weight-lifting war wound!

Workout 3: Assisted Roundhouse Kick
S = 3 (per leg)
R = 15/20/mx

This exercise is my secret weapon to a great backside, I’m not tooting my horn here… it's feedback from plenty of women, so you know… it’s gotta be all true. I've been doing karate since I was 15 years old and I always noticed the great burn feeling in my butt after my Sensei put us through this drill every class. By the time we finished it felt like I had sat down butt naked on a hot stove. We don’t need to go that crazy, but this is a great exercise. To do this, stand against a wall and make sure your supporting leg (non kicking leg) has its toes pointed TO the wall. This means your heels will face the target. Next, bring up the knee of the kicking leg as high as possible and bend it so that your heels are almost touching your butt cheek. Hold on to this leg. Now while staying in this position, fire the kicking leg (point your toes) and then bring it back. Every rep should be done as fast and as furiously as possible.

Note: Once you start the kicking, DO NOT hold the leg every rep, this defeats the purpose. You’ll notice that your knees start to dip as you get tired… you need to FIGHT this urge because that’s where a lot of the results come form.

Assisted kicks are for wusses! We don't need no stinking wall!

Workout 4: Hip Abductions
S = 3 (per leg)
R = mx/mx/mx

Most gyms have cable machines and have a crap load of different attachments that you can use. One of these attachments is for your ankles. But if you don’t go to the gym and/or your gym does not have the adequate equipment, you can do this with a pair of resistance bands which cost like $30 for a full set! So you have no excuse. If you’re REALLY dead broke and/or walking itself gives your rear a burn then you can do this without any resistance.

I don’t think much explanation is needed. Keep your hips perpendicular to the direction you’ll be kicking. Keep the kicking leg as straight as possible and raise sideways as high as you can. Dipping your upper body down a little bit will help get your leg up higher. Oh and holding onto something for balance is generally a very good idea.

The beginning of the move.

The end of the move - isn't Allison the most adorable fitness model ever?

Gratuitous backside shot (this is what happens when Krista gives us immature girls the camera to hold)!

Workout 5: Barbell Butt Bridge (Or hump the ceiling)
S = 4
R = 20/30/mx/mx

Grab a normal 45lbs barbell and place it along your hips. The thing I like about this exercise is that you can keep adding weight according to your experience level… but don’t let your ego get carried away. To do the 30 reps during the second set, I doubt you’ll be able to get away with much weight so take an educated guess. You may also use dumbbells by placing them on your thighs and holding on to them.

As you lie down, bring your knees up and keep your feet flat on the floor. Then raise your butt and lower back off the floor (hump the ceiling), hold it for a second and then lower yourself back to starting position. You should really focus on squeezing your bum as you do this… not only will it let you lift a heavier load, you will get the desired effect needed.

Nope, no picture from us on this one! This was embarrassing (hee!) enough without photographic evidence. But I want to point out that we totally DID use the 45 pound bar! It was even the curl bar so it hurt in two different ways - so take THAT Mr. Jerk!

Workout 6: Eat Smart!
S = unlimited
R = forever

One final thing I want you to realize is that just like abs, a great butt will be hiding behind a layer of fat… unless you get rid of it. Doing this workout will surely give you a powerful bum, and will give it the “tightness” it needs to stay firm… but if you really wanna “show it off” then you need to realize that your eating habits are just as crucial. Unleash your spectacular rear view by eating right AND doing my workouts… and expect to be complimented and stalked – Every girls dream.

Stalking is every girl's dream? And in other news, next week I will be guest posting, on Fit Jerk's blog about new wave feminism in a gym environment.

Cheers.

No, cheers to you my abtastic friend! Thanks for another great challenge!

- FitJerk

Author Bio: While he has a passion for writing and oozes the entrepreneurial spirit, FJ is a Fitness Expert first, and focuses on impeccably accurate advice that is delivered it in a straight forward, No-BS style. Check out his book or for personal attention, look into E-Training!

See ya on the backside!

Overall this was a kick-butt routine - in both senses! All of us were sore the next day which was good since our derrieres are not something we choose to work very often. Kinda like calves for me - I will never willingly work my calf muscles. I hate calf exercises. Do you have a body part you hate to work? Any of you try this workout with us this last weekend??

Written By Charlotte Hilton Andersen for http://thegreatfitnessexperiment.blogspot.com only! Not to be re-published without permission.