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Stop eating so many cookies. That’s what it all boiled down to. Controlling that urge, that desire…but no, it’s so much more than that. It’s a relationship. The sense of well being just knowing that the Tollhouse cookies wait for me at the end of a long day, warm and inviting. Unvaryingly sweet, and always non-judgmental. Unlike other ‘healthy’ food sources chocolate muffins, for example, demand nothing from you, expect nothing from you. They represent pure, honest indulgence. And they are the most personal of eating experiences, sweets. You might eat broccoli and skinless chicken to look better with your shirt off; whole grain cereals and power smoothies to perform better in the next paddleboard race. You might go full vegan, having revolted at that condemned look in a chicken’s eye, or full organic, gnashing your bitter kale in a desperate attempt to stave off our inevitable demise. External motivations, all. But a glazed old fashion donut? A second slice—no, slab—of yellow cake with chocolate frosting? It’s all about you. Having what you want, exactly the way you want, for no other reason than wanting it. Desire, stripped down to its most honest expression, requiring no reciprocity. Each bite simply mirroring the devotion expressed. Ultimate love…with milk chocolate chips, no walnuts please.
“Don’t worry,” enthusiastically asserted Will, my new Intrafit ‘guidance counselor’, during the online orientation for my upcoming fitness and nutritional ‘reprogramming’ program. “After just 48 hours of following the new guidelines we’ve laid out for you, balancing your blood sugar properly, you’ll not only lose that craving for sweets, you won’t even remember why you ever wanted them in the first place.”
Where was this guy 20 years ago, when I first asked Nia to marry me and she said no? Oh, wait, that’s one craving for sweetness I’m glad I never gave up. But to hear Will tell it, this new program wasn’t a diet, it was a breakup. Not only would I stop wanting that cup cake, I would forget why I loved. Forget all those years of devotion, Lose all those precious memories associated with birthdays, holidays, travel. Crush down those vivid images: the stolen moments, the secret delights. Go on without any of it. Go on with my life, not wanting it, not needing it. Not needing.
And as I listened to Will painting a portrait of a world without Paradise Cove Ice Cream sandwiches—a glorious, wonderful new world to hear him tell it—I realized that compared to the discipline necessary to end that romance, completing that last shoulder press to complete muscle failure was going to be, well, a piece of cake.
“check check. is this thing working??” so many new devices. i’m here on our new community site and loving it. this is my first test…….
Okay, so I had my whole fitness thing done last Monday: weight, fat, max vo all of it. I wanted to know where I’m beginning so I can create a quantifiable goal, something measurable.
So first of all, we get in there and they put Sam up on this stationary bike, slap some type of metal headband on him, cram a tube into his mouth and make him start pedaling…ugh. And I’m next? Now Sam’s done this before so he gets the whole thing. Me??? Nope.
So now it’s my turn… “How hard do I pedal? For how long? I have to breathe through this tube? What about the inevitable slobber associated with panting while your mouth is open??”
Whatever. I just jump up and start cruising. Sam tells me it’s all about the watts. Of course I have no idea what those are so he says to put it at about 70 rpm’s and keep it there. That’s measurable for me. Got it. Rpms at 70. So I go easy at about 68. But every minute the pedaling gets harder. By minute 5 they’re telling me, “one more minute” so I lay it on and start sprinting: 75,80,100rpms. And I crank the rest of that minute at about 145 rpms everyone’s hooting me on….but the watts aren’t changing. Cause it doesn’t matter and I’m still confused, “Watts?? I understand speed, rpms, incline and level.” I still don’t know what any of that meant except that I have the muscle to sprint but not the fitness to endure. Okay. Got it. Not fit enough. I worked hard for that lack of endurance over these last handful of years, so I guess I earned it.
Now, the weight? Should be 112. I’m at 117. May not mean anything to you but for me, I’ve never weighed more than 112 unless I was on my way up or down from pregnancy. No big deal. I really wouldn’t care about the weight if I knew I was keeping good habits. But I haven’t been and my weight reflects that. now, I could say I have a weight goal but I really don’t. I have a weight suspicion: I suspect my weight will be closer to 112 when I’m in the kind of fitness shape I want to be in. I guess we’ll see.
Now the fat: usually sitting at about 13% I’m now at 15%. ( I swear I thought I was at about 22% weird.) This is the most curious part of it to me. Being as I’m 49, I want to know how my dedication to fitness and nutrition will affect that number. A doctor told me point blank that when we hit this age women automatically add 2 % of body fat. Okay. Well, let’s see.
Over all the test wasn’t that hard. and it was worth gathering all that pertinent information right? I mean it’s always nice to know what percentage of your body is useful and what percentage is only good for keeping you warm enough to dive 6,000 meters to retrieve shell fish from the bottom of the Atlantic ocean…ha!
The trip down to the OC Sports and Wellness Center in Foothill Ranch for a comprehensive fitness evaluation was supposed to be just that: an evaluation. Naturally I completely ignored that fact and considered the whole process, which included a full blood workup, body composition analysis and VO2 max and maximum heart rate stress test, to be merely an elaborate try-out for what I perceived to be a superior middle age. And believe me, I was working hard to make the team. Which is why, at one point, I found myself laying supine on one of those invariably uncomfortable examination beds, the white paper crinkling beneath me while Dr. Falsetti affixed electronic sensor pads to my bare chest, trying desperately to slow my resting pulse. I don’t know about you, but just laying on one of those narrow examination room beds, with all their anxious associations with potentially dire diagnosis (“Why is the doctor taking so long? Is he trying to notify my family? I thought it was just poison oak…”) makes my heart race like I’d just run a brisk 440. Yet here I was thinking pure thoughts, relaxing my stomach muscles, letting my feet droop in authentic yoga style and all to impress some machine to which I’d be plugged into in a few moments. No, that’s not entirely true. I knew I couldn’t impress Dr. Falsetti, who began a career in elite fitness training during the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics and who had first hooked me up to his torture machines 15 years ago when I was earnestly training for a long distance paddleboard race. “The numbers don’t lie,” he told me. “So just relax do your best and let the machines do their thing. And don’t even think of trying to impress us.” He then showed me ‘the numbers’ of Spanish cycling great Miguel Indurain, who in his prime could generate 500 watts of power for hours on end and not even come close to his maximum rate. Me, on the other hand, would do well to break into the 300-watt zone for the required minute or so. But if Dr. Falsetti didn’t want his clients attempting to impress, why did he insist on hiring young, athletic female assistants to conduct the all-important stationary bike stress test, where the subject, connected to blinking machines and breathing into a tube with the nose pinched shut, attempts to keep pedaling through the clinically increased resistance until failure? I, for one, can admit that throughout much of the last five decades I’ve wasted a ridiculous amount of calories trying not to do anything even remotely associated with failure in front of pretty girls.
So here I was, laying on my back, thinking that if I could only get my resting pulse down to, say, my age (which is 54) then Dr. Falsetti’s pert young assistant, standing there in her pony tail and running shorts and triathlon team sweat jacket might note down on her clipboard, “He’s in pretty good shape for an old guy.” And perhaps to Nia, who sat watching with a mixture of bemusement and apprehension (she would be plugged in next) “Boy, lucky her.” Oh, the vanity. Because as the assistant lashed me to the stationary bike, inserting the mouthpiece and calibrating the machines to expose, as I saw it, not my strengths but merely my weaknesses, I was hit with an acute flash of awareness: nobody here was really expecting anything from me, except me. The numbers wouldn’t lie, no more than the scale or the mirror or that next steep hill or tenth rep or long paddle back out to the line up. There’s an essential honesty in effort that no amount of self-delusion can dissuade, for better or worse. And I knew that in about eight minutes, somewhere right about the 350-watt range, I was about to have a very frank, very revealing conversation with inner myself.
But do these bike shorts make my legs look skinny?
BLOG > > > B. Stands for blah blah blah verb: to talk a lot. Particularly about one’s self
Log noun : not as in what you build a cabin with or pour on your pancakes but as in the journal entries of Captain James T. Kirk, the illustrious leader of The Star Ship Enterprise. But we have no real leader. We only have each other.d
This is the place to be if you want a bit of insight, a little encouragement, or merely something to scoff at. Here a handful of Nia’s first participants write about their journey through the FIT challenge. Often they bare their souls, expose their deepest fears, share their most profound self-discoveries, and offer thought provoking questions. Reading these blogs will empower you, help you find your inner hero, spark that fiery can do attitude deep within, or in the least give you something to laugh about. Whatever the case may be I’m convinced you’ll walk away with a better outlook on life and the feeling that you can accomplish anything knowing you had the common sense not to lay it out there and expose yourself by being one of the bloggers.
These BlahBlahBLOGs are not for the faint at heart but for those willing To boldly go where no man has gone before…or something like that.
PS. for you non trekkies:
MAN noun : the human race : humankind (not limited to dude)
Nia pronounced NEE-ah.
It is of Gaelic and Swahili in origin, (perfect considering I’m Scottish, Irish, English, Native Indian, French Filipina, German and Spanish)
the Meaning:
Swahili: Lustrous; Goal or Purpose.
Gaelic and Welsh : Radiance; brightness
Celtic: Champion (I’ll take all that!)
Numerological Meaning:
People with this name tend to be very warm and nurturing. Yes. They are often found taking care of others. Yes. They have a deep need to try and create harmony in their surroundings. Yes. Unfortunately, this can sometimes lead to getting taken advantage of. Yes, yes and yes… They can have difficulties saying, “No.” YES! … See.
They can be quite successfu… Read more
Hi everyone. My name is Nadine and I am a television writer and producer. My schedule has been so hectic that I haven’t made eating and working out a priority. But I think about it every minute of every day.
I am so excited to take the Fitness Challenge with Nia. Being a friend of Nia’s, I get to experience her energy and enthusiasm for fitness and health. It certainly gets me motivated. I am the creator of EmPower Walking and I will be doing a daily walking regiment along with weight training and follow Intrafitt and Dr. Philip Goglia’s nutrition and eating advice.
My goal is to lose 10 pounds over the next 6 weeks and maintain a great mood :). With my hefty work schedule, it may be a challenge. Hang in there with me as we EmPower Walk, workout and work along with Nia and create the most amazing 6 weeks of our lives.
Here we go!!!
Is downloading The Sculptor and Reassessing my thought patterns before I get started..
FEBRUARY 7, 2011
It’s been an absolutely crazy day and I am going to the gym. I have The Sculptor on my fridge and one by my bed (right next to my cell phone and the spiritual laws of success:). I have been watching Mr. G’s workout video’s and I absolutely love him. I am going to order his DVD’s. I haven’t weighed myself this past two weeks, but I can tell I am losing and a friend commented on my face today.
How is everyone doing? I would love to organize a team in the North Hollywood/Studio Cityish area if anyone wishes. We can kick some serious arse, as Nia loves to say. Who’s in?
Smiles,
Nadine
//
56 going to be 57 young @heart……..mother, grand-mother, sister,
good friend, best friend, acting daughter, married and sometimes
acting wife :>
“means to a way”
Sr. V.P./Regional Ops Mngr and Chief organizor, director, delegator,
counselor, mediator, physo….anyalizer, baby-sitting time keeper,
“sweat equity” partner in an up and coming Pasadena based company that
is 189 miles (one-way) from my home in the Central Coast.
Making changes is a must and a desire to a better balance for myself.
Timing is everything.
Fit Challenge o-kay.
Blogging………..hmm? Look how long it took for me to do a “bio”.
//
Ema Beard Schulz
Blog 3
Hey all you fitness freaks. It’s mamagoodvibes here bringing you some healthy vibes from sunny Malibu California. As we are well into our fitness challenge with Nia I have to admit it is easy to veer off course. As I mentioned before I don’t have a scale so I used a friends scale and that is when I decided to join the fitness challenge because apparently I didn’t weigh what I thought I did. The fact that I wasn’t wearing my “hot” jeans, that made my ass look great, because I could barely close them was my true indicator it was time to slim down. I have been using the P90X method three days a week with a two mile walk with the dogs in between. I even squeezed in a hike with Nia and team Malibu. Two weeks in and I am doing great. I have cheated with some cake, licorice, too much champagne on my birthday, but hey, I needed the endorphins. I have missed a work out here or there, but I am making big changes. My kids and my husband are telling me I am looking better and I am noticing little things, even though I feel I could work a little harder. After a few weeks of working out, I pull out my “hot” jeans from the closet, pull them up over my hips and arse, and I was shocked. There was no way in hell those pants were going to zip up, in fact the zipper wouldn’t even connect it was just in a big “V” shape. I am thinking, I suck at this fitness thing. What? Is it all smoke and mirrors? So depressed I take off the pants and throw them on the bed and stomp away. I walk by the bed later and pick up the jeans and break out into hysterical laughter. The jeans I thought were my “hot” jeans turned out to be a pair of jeans my 12 year old son’s friend left and they were put away in my closet. I would of felt great if I fit in a 12 year olds jeans. I’ll leave that up to Kelly Rippa and Megan Fox. But alas, I should probably get a scale and a measuring tape. Keep up the good work.
Stay fit, healthy, and have fun.
Ema
Mamagoodvibes
Mother of twins, wife, sexitary, blogger, believer in infinite possibilities.
On a side note I wanted to say that Malibu Team Members Noriko Smith and Stuart Smith have family in Japan and if we can all keep them in our prayers. They are safe from the earthquake but we still need to keep them in our thoughts and we need to send them some “good vibes”. Blessings.
Blog Two
Okay, it is the end of the week, Friday. I still have a couple more days, but this was pretty easy. This is my get acquainted with my aches and pains week and my fit the workout it into my schedule week. I am going for the P90X method. As you can tell from the enclosed brochure I am expecting very big changes in my body. Just look at the before and after. I can’t wait to see how I turn out. I hoping for a Beyonce after. I am doing P90X four times a week, and the other days I am hiking or running with the dogs. The dogs who like to lick my face and fart when I am working out at home. I discovered they were thinking I was injured because of my heavy breathing. I am following the food for P90X as well so my food log is already laid out. I vary it a little, and write down any cheats, like a square of dark chocolate, hand full of chips, an entire pizza and wings (just kidding) ewww. I am really satisfied with the meals and I am shopping better. I don’t waste money on things I think I might make one day but don’t and then the ingredients go bad and I end up throwing away soggy cucumbers and snotty lettuce. So I am well on my way. Just with very sore muscles. Stick with Nia’s Fitness Challenge and commit to the workouts.
Blog One
Okay I am going to start my blog before I start the program because I am in the “get you shit together” stage. I am going to attempt the P90X program, Lean edition, and mostly follow the food suggestions as it is pretty much how my family eats now, just without the occasional visits to Taco Bell, Sharky’s and Jack In the Box after the kids games, and without the visit to the raw cookie dough, party cake, or Starbucks. I am going to alter the program to work best for my schedule, and I am going to include beach walks and hikes. I was at a friend’s house the other day and I saw a scale. I do not own a scale, never have. I had a relative idea of what I weighed so I stepped on. Well apparently I had no relative idea of what I weigh and now I know why my pants are all so uncomfortable. My boobs look fantastic, but I know those will be the first to go. Sorry hubby. This fitness challenge could not of come at a better time, it’s a new year and the first day of the rest of my life. My girlfriend Nancy in New Zealand and her friends are joining in, all the way across the globe. So we have to be accountable to our selves and our friends. I will be posting some of my progress on Facebook, not to bore anyone, but to motivate them. I am looking forward to a healthier me.
//
NAME: SAM GEORGE
AGE: FOUR MONTHS AWAY FROM ORDERING OFF THE SENIOR MENU AT IHOP
MARITAL STATUS: EXTREMELY FORTUNATE
PROFESSION: SAM GEORGE (AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT I PUT ON A TAX RETURN)
AVOCATION: SURFER, WRITER, FILMMAKER
LAST TIME I WORE A TIE: THE 2010 CANNES FILM FESTIVAL RED CARPET
LAST TIME I WORE GRUNGY SURF TRUNKS: THIS MORNING
LAST TIME MY HEART RATE WAS OVER 130: THE LAST TIME I SAW NIA IN A BIKINI
LAST TIME I WAS SCARED: ROCK CLIMBING AT JOSHUA TREE, and SEEING MY 12 YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER WEARING A BRA AND HIGH HEELS FOR THE FIRST TIME.
NUMBER OF PICKUP TRUCKS OWNED IN PAST 25 YEARS: 8
SURFBOARDS CURRENTLY OWNED: 15
SURFBOARDS CURRENTLY WET: 3
FITNESS STATUS: HOLDING THE LINE
FITNESS GOAL: PUTTING A LITTLE SLACK IN THAT LINE
FAVORITE QUOTE: “THO WE ARE NOT NOW THAT STRENGTH THAT IN DAYS OF OLD EARTH AND HEAVEN, THAT WHICH WE ARE, WE ARE. ONE EQUAL TEMPER OF HEROIC HEARTS MADE WEAK BY TIME AND FATE BUT STRONG IN WILL TO SEEK, TO STRIVE, TO TRY AND NOT TO YIELD.” from ‘Ulysses’ by Tennyson (who obviously never tried Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies)
NAME: SAM GEORGE
AGE: FOUR MONTHS AWAY FROM ORDERING OFF THE SENIOR MENU AT IHOP
MARITAL STATUS: EXTREMELY FORTUNATE
PROFESSION: SAM GEORGE (AT LEAST THAT’S WHAT I PUT ON A TAX RETURN)
AVOCATION: SURFER, WRITER, FILMMAKER
LAST TIME I WORE A TIE: THE 2010 CANNES FILM FESTIVAL RED CARPET
LAST TIME I WORE GRUNGY SURF TRUNKS: THIS MORNING
LAST TIME MY HEART RATE WAS OVER 130: THE LAST TIME I SAW NIA IN A BIKINI
LAST TIME I WAS SCARED: ROCK CLIMBING AT JOSHUA TREE, SEEING MY 12 YEAR-OLD DAUGHTER WEARING A BRA AND HIGH HEELS FOR THE FIRST TIME.
NUMBER OF PICKUP TRUCKS OWNED IN PAST 25 YEARS: 8
SURFBOARDS CURRENTLY OWNED: 15
SURFBOARDS CURRENTLY WET: 3
FITNESS STATUS: HOLDING THE LINE
FITNESS GOAL: PUTTING A LITTLE SLACK IN THAT LINE
FAVORITE QUOTE: “THO WE ARE NOT NOW THAT STRENGTH THAT IN DAYS OF OLD EARTH AND HEAVEN, THAT WHICH WE ARE, WE ARE. ONE EQUAL TEMPER OF HEROIC HEARTS MADE WEAK BY TIME AND FATE BUT STRONG IN WILL TO SEEK, TO STRIVE, TO TRY AND NOT TO YIELD.” from ‘Ulysses’ by Tennyson (who obviously never tried Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies)
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