health&fitnessfactorfiction.com

Tonight I had to make a difficult choice between sleep (precious, precious sleep), and seeing the new Rocky film with my neighbour Harry. I know some of you may be wondering why I’d be making such a choice, and the answer is, I loved Rocky. It’s not a blanket “I loved all the Rocky films”, because pretty much anything after the first one was crap, but I saw the promo for the new one before Casino Royale, and it looked awesome. Sly is old, but in amazing form, and gorilla pressing some mighty weight above his head. It also seemed quite emotionally satisfying, and harking back to some of the golden moments of the original. As anyone who knows me will tell you, it doesn’t take much to make me cry, but I had tears in my eyes before the promo was even half way through. And not just because I’m a wuss, okay?

I also love boxing, and therefore boxing movies. I know there are heaps of people who decry it, and I respect their point of view, but I love it. I went through a stage of loving Ultimate Fighting, but once Royce Gracie wasn’t the man anymore, I lost interest. Wrestling, for different reasons (Triple H back in early 2000 for example, and Dave Batista pretty much anytime), is something I return to anytime I need cheering up. I had ambitions to be a wrestler, but sadly was already too old - and too afraid of damaging myself irreparably. Also, some other girl had taken my wrestling name, so it seemed fate was against me. I still think I could live my dreams through Miss M, who shows remarkable promise, and a distinct lack of fear. I could be her manager and interfere in matches like Freddy Blassy, or Captain Lou Albano - but far cooler of course.

But back to my original point. The movie didn’t start until 8.45pm, and I have to get up at 5am tomorrow. So at the risk of sounding like someone’s grandmother, the choice was already made, and consequently, I’m heading off to bed.

Today I’m loving: gingerbread muffins

Today I discovered not to schedule any important meetings after teaching spinning. I raced straight from the gym (after changing out of my sweaty clothes) to the bank, and quickly realised I had no reserve of either energy or brain power left. This meeting was to make sure I had adequate insurance, and it became very quickly clear (as I had none), I didn’t.

As I was asked questions like “what would happen to your income if you were injured?”, I was confronted with some truths most of us don’t like to face. Like … I wouldn’t have any income. Luckily, the financial panther I went to see was fantastic, and she ushered me through the intense experience with humour and friendliness. On Tuesday I need to sign some documents, but after that, most of the bank loan ordeal should be over.

It’s made me realise there are many things I’ve been happy to let other people take care of up to this time in my life. It’s daunting, but also quite exciting to be taking responsibility for myself. I also have to give massive props to my bank, who have gone above and beyond the call of duty with their level of service, and kindness. I was prepared to be super cynical, but have come away intensely impressed.

Today I’m loving: Harry - thank you for the coffee!

NW - Pg 68, Inside Diet: “Desperate Housewives’ Diet Secrets”

I’ve never watched “Desperate Housewives”, but I’m no stranger to the massive press surrounding the actresses, or their various physiques. If this article is to be believed, these mega wealthy women lead very balanced lives exercise and diet wise. I didn’t know Eva Longoria was a former aerobics instructor, but I did read somewhere she works out with her trainer three or four times a week. Teri Hatcher prefers pole and lap dancing workouts, Marcia Cross does 90 minute power yoga classes, and Nicollete Sheridan plays volleyball.

While they all admit to having diet weaknesses, on a day to day front they seem to have their act together - but when you’re on set and someone else is preparing at least two out of three meals a day, it’s probably easier to eat well (if you steer clear of the desserts). Although this page has some good info, it left me feeling a little … meh. **

New Idea, Pg 38: Iron Woman
Article on getting the best iron intake from your food. It includes a checklist of symptoms of low iron, and ways to get your levels back up by adjusting your diet. A third of the article is a “swap this for that” style pictorial, with main meal options and two ideas for snacks. Good info ***

Pg 66: Get fit with Guy

This page puts the myth of spot reducing (working a particular area of your body to lose weight only there) to rest. I once had a female client who wanted to train five days a week and only work on her legs and butt, and no matter how many times I tried to explain she needed cardio, and couldn’t only train legs without some serious repercussions, she didn’t care. I eventually bargained her down to three days, but then she got angry because her butt got perkier and she couldn’t fit into her Bettina Liano jeans anymore.

So it’s good to see Guy explain in sensible, easy to understand language what you need to do to make a difference to any trouble spots you might have. He uses a great anecdote from Serena Williams to put it into perspective, and he also mentions everybody reacts to exercise differently.

I think the exercise list undermines his point somewhat, as saying crunches and situps are ideal for a problem tummy is actually crap. What’s ideal for a problem tummy is eating well, cardio, and resistance - sit ups won’t make any difference - as Guy himself points out in the second sentence of this article. Apart from that ***

Pg 69, Food Untruths

Helen Wellings, who usually sorts out consumer problems for people with dodgy video recorders on this page, has some interesting advice for people who are looking for healthy food options, but not up with label reading.

If you buy prepackaged food at the supermarket, this is a great article to read. Flick to it while you’re waiting in the checkout, and go through your trolley using Helen’s tips. You might feel like putting some of your shopping back on the shelf. ***

OK, Pg 86: Body talk with Giuliana Depandi

If you’re asking “who?”, you probably didn’t spend years watching E! News on Foxtel like me. She’s now doing the Oscars red carpet interviews, so this is almost more of a plug for the Oscars than her body.

She trains with Madonna’s Pilates trainer, who says Madonna does four hours of Pilates a day, five to seven days a week, including 900 jumping jacks every time. Yes, jumping jacks are so very Pilates … sorry, I digress, but it’s just so ridiculous!

Apart from that insane gossip, there’s nothing spectacular about Giuliana to report. She limits dessert, tries to eat salmon once a day, and loves Nutella on white bread. Honestly, I’d prefer to read about Salma Hayek’s body, which is gorgeous, and I’m sure she’d eat some interesting food, too. *

I think I met Leisa when I was about sixteen. It might have been at the Hideaway bar in Hobart, or some dodgy Halloween party at Matt Ward’s house, but she really first hit my radar when my boyfriend Andrew left Hobart and moved to Melbourne, leaving behind a note ignoring me, and mentioning her.

It’s probably an understatement to say I was angry, so I found her number (read “bribed it out of a mutual friend”), and invited her for a drink to “discuss” things, at the Mayfair Tavern, a perfectly sane meeting place in Sandy Bay. My plan was to get her drunk, then beat the living crap out of her in the carpark out the back. Oddly, my plan never quite came to fruition, as after a couple of beers, I realised Leisa was far better company than my boyfriend Andrew. We cemented things by dancing to Push It, and at some point both decided Andrew was out, and that we’d be friends.

It’s now almost eighteen years later, and Leisa is still one of the most fabulous people in my life. She’s always been there for me with a wonderful sense of humour, no matter what the circumstance, super supportive, like my own personal cheerleader. Whether it was after the Celibate Rifles gig when I needed cab fare (and my missing shoe), when I was going through chemotherapy, or when my marriage broke up, she’s never missed a beat. Leis is now an incredible wife and mother, but still exactly like the crazy sixteen year old I met and boogied down with so many years ago.

Today we checked out real estate, and her inimitable boundless energy led me to discover perhaps the most perfect property thus far, and laugh myself stupid while doing so. It’d be nice to think everyone could have a friend like that, but I honestly don’t think many people are that lucky. I’m sure there are probably some more eloquent words out there but I’m going to stick with the basics. Leis, you’re awesome, and I love you. Thank you for everything.

My loan is pre-approved! Take that, Seinfeld - unforseen circumstances my ass! I’m going to inspect an apartment tomorrow which looks pretty good - but rental property inspections have shown me any rat hole can look fantastic if it’s photographed from the right angle.

Miss M is spending tomorrow night with her dad, and I’m spending the night planning my future business empire. Planning on a Saturday night? Yes, tragic, but I had an epiphany a couple of days ago when I thought about where I want to be in three years and decided it wasn’t making someone else money to work at their gym, or starting at 6am, or riding my bike in the rain. It’s fine for now, but what would Donald Trump say? I’d like to imagine something along the lines of “Emma, get yourself a bad toupee”, but suspect slightly more cutthroat advice.

So I’m putting together an eighteen month plan, and a three year plan - fairly similar, but in the three year plan I have a lot more money, and live in an awesome shop/dwelling. I’ve never done that kind of thing before (the planning that is), but I’ve also never been on first name terms with anyone at my bank before, and I kind of dig it.

Now we’re off for dinner at Loi Loi.

Today I’m loving: the idea of rice paper rolls in about ten minutes.

I felt like I’d really made it in the website game when I discovered 13 spam comments on one of my really old posts yesterday. I was disappointed when I found out they weren’t real comments, but then came to the conclusion they were almost as good … even though my deleting finger was working overtime. They were for some kind of Google search - very boring. Guess you’ve really made it when the porn sites start spamming.

Because I need a tenuous link to get to it, I’m going to segue into my most recent Google vanity search, which was “Between the Teeth”. Not dental hygiene, or some kind of dodgy advice column, but a television show I co-hosted when I was sixteen, and wearing day of the week underwear with super short lurex mini skirts. I think this show would have the all time record for least watched, and least known. The ABC in Hobart (where it was shot back in the 80’s) erased all the tapes, which I guess tells you exactly what high quality tv it was. For nine months it aired on Saturday morning before Beatbox, and when we were finally axed, our budget was given to The Factory and Tania Lacey became famous instead of me. She had a lot more talent, but at the time I wasn’t quite so chilled out about it.

So the Google search was quite depressing. I was hoping to find some crazed fan with a website dedicated to the show, but instead found this. If you scroll down to paragraph ten (!), you’ll see BTT mentioned last in a long line of shows. At least someone remembered …

My memories of the show are (in no particular order)

Throwing ice from the ABC canteen windows towards Masons going to their temple meeting next door. We weren’t aiming at them … just near them

Developing a love of Cascade Pale Ale at the pub over the road

My co-host Paul having chemotherapy for several months, and ad-libbing some mad hair tearing scene with real hair tearing

Having to do the dodgiest links to the dodgiest videos - like Bruce Willis and the Pointer Sisters’ cover of “Respect Yourself”

The only cool song we played was “Weirdo Libido” by the Lime Spiders, but only because it was on the soundtrack to Young Einstein.

Dry ice smoke everywhere, since that was all the props budget could pay for

My mother embarking on a fantastic campaign to publicise the show by writing to the Mercury and pretending to be a young man who was desperately in love with me. I didn’t realise until she told me later on, and was quite disappointed

Finishing work at 3am every Friday and never making it to my double religious studies class, even though my teacher was probably the coolest guy at Hobart College

And so ended my career as on air talent (and I use the phrase extremely loosely). A few years ago I was given one of the only existing copies of an episode of the show, and it was bad. Not even funny bad. At one point I was obviously looking at the director, who must’ve been miming “smile” for five minutes before I understood what to do. He wasn’t a great director, and I wasn’t a child acting prodigy.

So there’s the whole nine months encapsulated in one post, and clearly one of the reasons I ended up behind the scenes in TV - although there was an episode of Blue Heelers where my photograph was used as an IRA terrorist who’d been murdered by the British army, but all I had to do was look crazy and in love. I managed the crazy part quite easily …

Today I’m loving: managing to hold a fifteen kilo weight above my head during step ups

Today I took a large step into adulthood and talked to a bank manager about a home loan. And it looks like I am, as they say in the trade, unofficially approved. I always like to quote Seinfeld (refer to the title of the post) at times like this, as they always used this line just before something went hideously and awfully wrong. My unforseen circumstances happened on Monday, when I rang a real estate agent to organise an inspection of an apartment I’ve had my eye on for a few months. Nothing had changed on the real estate website, and no “sold” signs had gone up, so I assumed it was still available. Until the receptionist told me otherwise.

Of course, it was the most perfect apartment I could’ve found, in my price range, in the right area … etc, etc. So let’s just say when I made samosas half an hour later, not all my tears were from chopping onions. Still, I’ve recovered, and by tomorrow, I should be armed with the bank’s financial blessing (to a certain degree), and able to look properly, and perhaps make an offer if the mood strikes in the next few weeks.

I picked up my new postcards from the printer today, which look awesome, if you click the link below, you may notice the subtle changes from the old one. I’ve put some new text on the back (which you can’t see, but it’s great!), so I’m quite excited about entering a new phase with the classes. In related news, I’m now one of the proud sponsors of an event hosted by realmums.com.au, which is partly why I’ve had the new cards printed. Watch your back, Donald Trump.

Lastly, in my news of the last couple of days, I was flirted with by a man in a white van on Monday. Classy huh? I thought he was going to ask me for directions, but instead he said “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re really beautiful … (like you could take that the wrong way) … what nationality are you?” So I told him, and thanked him for the compliment and then started walking away. He called me back and asked whether I’d call him if he gave me his number. My reply? No, but thanks anyway. He was actually quite cute, but whole van/street experience put me off … just a little!

Today I’m loving: getting stuff done! And Christie from PT Plus.

yummy_mummy.pdf

OK, Pg 78: Body talk with: Jennifer Lopez

J-Lo’s body is quite incredible - to quote her “you could serve coffee using my rear as a ledge”, but this article really doesn’t give us any fantastic information, other than she doesn’t like her ankles, and sleep is her “weapon”. She likes to circuit train, she does special squats (but doesn’t mention what makes them special), and she practices Krav Maga, which is an Israeli martial art. Clearly, she likes to play her exercise cards close to her chest (which isn’t as ledge like as her butt). I’d already read most of this elsewhere, so I’m giving it a low, low **

On the same page, there’s a small article about Julia Roberts’ way of keeping track of her weight, which doesn’t involve scales. She keeps the brown polka dot dress from “Pretty Woman” on hand, and tries it on every so often to make sure she’s the right size. While I don’t love the dress, this a great method of tracking your weight, as scales aren’t reliable, and if you’re weight training will always give you a figure you don’t want to see. Taking measurements can be a pain, so judging your weight by the way your clothes fit is a perfect way to do it - as long as it’s a realistic size you’re trying to get into. ***

Woman’s Day, Page 13 “Oprah, My Fat Misery”

This is the second time I’ve reviewed an article on Oprah that isn’t some groovy celeb diet we all love to read about. While Oprah’s public face is usually one of amazing success at weight loss, balanced life, and being completely in control, this article seems to show it’s only a facade. She (allegedly) opted out of lap band surgery, but is terrified of gaining more weight, as she’s unable to control her addiction to food. Ironically, she’s writing a multi million dollar diet book with her trainer Bob Greene, so her rapid weight gain over recent months couldn’t come at a worse time. I wonder what Dr Phil would have to say about his best buddy’s predicament?

Page 66: Brooke, my secrets to staying in shape

Swimming champion Brooke Hanson has a list of nine great tips for staying healthy, ranging from making the most of your environment for incidental exercise, to taking a good multivitamin to help keep yourself feeling great. Good advice from someone who knows her stuff. ****

Page 67: The Biggest Loser Fridge Raid

If you’ve wondered what the contestants on TBL are eating, look no further than this article to find out. Clare Collins, the show’s nutritionist gives a few good ideas about eating when you’re trying to lose weight, and shares one of the contestants’ favorite recipes. Not bad info ***

Famous - Pg 10 “Get even, get hot”

If you’ve just been dumped, follow these celebs lead and whip yourself into the best shape you’ve ever been in. Drew Barrymore, Nicole Richie and Carmen Electra (just to name a few) list the regimes that got them looking smokin’. Interestingly, and hearteningly, Famous includes Jessica Simpson and Cameron Diaz as stars who may have taken things a little too far with weight loss in their quest to look great. I’m heartened to see they’re not advocating extreme overhauls as being a positive thing. ***

Pg 62 - A-List workout - get a … body worthy of the red carpet in 12 weeks

7-day training plan , combining strength training, cardio, and flexibility which will allegedly transform your body into a super star state in three months. This article is publicising a book written by ten celebrity trainers (which I have to admit I’d probably buy). I’m really hoping this is only a precis of what they’d be getting their clients to do. Day 2 involves cardio, broken into two parts - moderate (walking) and low (swimming), which I have no issue with, but the “flexibility” component is a hamstring stretch. If you’ve swum hard for twenty minutes, I’m tipping more than your hammys are going to need stretching.

There’s definitely some good ideas here, but not enough on each day for my money to make the big differences claimed. Maybe I’ll buy the book and see what the go is … or at least read it in Borders … *** Some good ideas, but needs beefing up (to coin a phrase)

New Idea, Pg 66. Get fit with Guy: Get in date shape

Guy Leech trains a bunch of celebrity ‘fitness wannabes’ and gives some tips about what mere mortals can do to make last minute improvements to their bodies before a date. He suggests exercising on the beach, which is great if you have the opportunity to do it. ***

Weight related headlines:

OK - just a little one, on page 67 “The Skinny Debate” about the size of models.

Woman’s Day, pg 68 - Junk food is saving my baby’s life (!)

Cam’s ab fab, pg 108 (Cameron Diaz)

Has Paris had a boob job?, pg 114

Miss M, as some of you already know, is obsessed with mermaids. She went through a little bit of a “mermaids, who cares?” period, but has now rediscovered her love, and requested a new mermaid tail for her birthday, one which can be stepped into and doesn’t show her feet. So I spent some time on the internet yesterday trying to find a suitable tail, but sadly, didn’t get too far. There doesn’t seem to be a huge market in incredibly realistic mermaid tails, but I did find this (too disturbing, and possible suffocation risks), but Miss M seemed happiest with the mermaid Ariana costume at the left of this page, even though the feet are clearly showing. Not as much as her current tail though, as pictured here:

During my search, I also found [tags]Hannah Fraser[/tags] this website, which I’ve become just a little obsessed with. I foolishly assumed Miss M would also like it, but she was furious when she found out she couldn’t have the same tail as the mermaid model. But after I’d explained how the woman travels the world “being” a mermaid, she calmed down, and we’ve talked about designing a tail especially for her. Can I just say this will never happen, as she’s been cursed with a mother who couldn’t even make pillowcases with straight seams, let alone a complex tail which needs to move freely and not get waterlogged.

Yesterday at the pool, she practiced an undulating, “Man From Atlantis” style, and was pretty good at it. The degree of difficulty was increased by the gang of teenagers playing an aggressive game of water cricket, but my little mermaid swam on regardless. She may have found the perfect vocation, having never been bothered by icy cold water, wind chill factor, or anything normal humans worry about at the beach. I’m just not sure how she’ll manage work experience in high school.

Today I’m loving: 7am this morning - so cool, and the smell of gum trees in the air.

I just noticed my site counter had clicked onto 666, so I tried to capture the moment for posterity. Instead, I got this. Although it’s not quite as symmetrical, I like it just the same, and it has less b-grade horror film connotations. (I’ve just realised the site counter changes - it did have 667 when I put it here initially)

Today is another scorching day, we had a pool date with Miss M’s friends Alex and Tash this afternoon, and took Mr Dog for a walk before it got too hot to go out. I bought a bag of Queensland limes at the market, and I’m quite tempted to buy some vodka or something to go with them, but I’ve remembered I don’t drink anymore. So it’s mineral water and bitters instead.

Miss M is at Alex and Tash’s house, while I’ve come home to feed the animals and retrieve the octopus I’ve been marinating, then head back down to have dinner with them. It’s actually good, because I was doubting how much she’d like the octopus, and there will be other things on offer now, and no anger directed at me for not having another choice. Menu planning means pickings are slim on Saturday, as the major shop gets done on Sunday night, after work when I’m child free.

This morning Miss M told me she wants to go to Italy. I asked if it was because she was part Italian, she said yes, but then admitted it was mainly because little boys there wolf whistle at girls in the street. I wonder if it’s too early to book her a place at a convent? However, I can kind of understand the appeal of the street wolf whistle, so I promised we’d go one day.

Anyway, I’m off to feed some hot animals, change my uncomfortable shoes, and carry a bag of cephelapods down the street (I think that’s what they’re called).

Today I’m loving: not the heat, that’s for sure. But grapes are good!