Body Fat Chit Chat

Body Fat Recommended Guidelines for women

14 - 20% - normal range for strong athletes
21 - 24% - normal range for regular exercisers
25 - 31% - ‘acceptable’
32 - 40% - obese

I’ve previously shared here that I have a freakishly high body fat content. Though this doesn’t bother me anymore, it does still confound me. Based on my level of physical activity, one would assume that I would at least be comfortably within the normal range for regular exercisers. However, one would also assume that God would never be mean enough to create a short, stocky, nearly blind 33-year old who still has bad acne, premature graying, obsessive behavior, terrible menstrual cramps and chronic constipation either. So it should not surprise anyone that on TWO separate body fat analysis tests this week, I clocked in at 29.5% body fat! This barely keeps me in the ‘acceptable’ range! So I don't know what's more inspiring- that a third of my body is still raw fat, or that I still fit size L & XL tops (thanks for those middle-linebacker shoulders, dad...).

But again, really- this does not traumatize me enough to make me run to the bathroom and throw up the one lettuce leaf and grape I ate for dinner. Particularly after what happened on Monday…

A trainer at my gym was using the caliper method to take my measurements. As he methodically pulled, tugged and pinched at my fat (really…a lovely feeling), I attemped to make small nervous chit chat by forewarning him that it would probably be a little high. He pretty much dismissed me with a wave of his hand and distractedly mumbled something along the lines of, “Aww, don’t worry about it- you’re in great shape, you’ll be fine…these things aren’t-- OH MY GOD! WHY IS IT SO HIGH?! I mean, you DO have A BIT OF FAT AND LOOSE SKIN in a few areas (thanks, a**hole…yell that louder so the rest of the gym can hear it too!), but 30%?!! I wouldn’t have guessed THAT much!” At this point he about threw his head in his hands and looked so distressed that I had to comfort him.

I reassured him that really, my high blubber content had no effect on my self esteem, that it was really not that much of a medical mystery (he's never seen what I can do to a large bag of tortilla chips) and that I was really just curious to see how accurate my body fat analysis machine was at home (dead on, apparently). And it's not like having a lot of blubber doesn't have it's high points! For instance, if I’m ever unfortunate enough to be on a cruise ship that goes down somewhere in Alaska, not only am I well insulated enough to remain comfortably toasty (I can frolick with seals!), but I’m also buoyant enough to float for weeks without having to exert any effort at all (treading water…what the hell is that?!). And if it takes even longer than that for the search crew to find me, I suppose I could always start gnawing away at my batwings (plenty of stored fat there!).

See? Now don't you wish you were a little tubbier now too? ;-)

Stuff you’ve gotta try:

• Lean Cuisine Panini sandwiches (Roy & I never fight, but we sure as hell fight over these)
• Lean Cuisine pizzas (esp. the cheese & spinach one!)
• Tyson Southwest-seasoned chicken breast strips (I eat ‘em straight outta the bag!)
• Burn Notice (best show I’ve seen in years)
• Survivor Man (another great show…plus you can learn 3 different ways of how to drink your own pee!)
• Clif Shot Bloks w/ caffeine (I'll NEVER eat another gel)
• Fresh bluberries (they're in season right now, and so damn good!)
• Whole Foods generic brand cheddar-flavored soy crisps (salty, low cal, packed with protein and damn tasty)

You guys get me!

Are you talkin' to me? Because it sure seems like it!!!

I love the new Nike campaign (see left). I even tore out the free 'Gone Running' clock from my Runner's World magazine and have it on my fridge.

But the campaign that most speaks to my soul is the Reebok one- (see below).

I have to chant the first mantra (see ad on left) to myself everytime I'm in a race and the entire field appears to be passing me by (I suppose I could/should start further back in the queue, but I figure the sooner you start, the sooner you finish). The only thing I can't figure out about Reebok's first ad is why the '10 minute mile' is not hyphenated, but '6-minute mile' is. Did the Reebok copywriters get fired? Pretty big mistake to be plastered in magazines and subway cars all over the world!

As for the second Reebok ad on hitting the wall- I think I'm living proof that no matter how slowly a person runs, at some point- they're gonna hit the damn wall. And it's gonna hurt.

Just like Dean

I know it looks like I'm trying to be a jack-in-the-box, but really- I'm soaking my legs in an ice bath (I saw a picture of Dean Karnazes doing it and have been meaning to try it, but I haven't done any long runs worthy of one in awhile). Although it was extraordinarily painful (I'd have preferred a rough pap smear), I'd have to give this method a thumbs up, mostly because:

1. Soaking (as opposed to using bags of ice to ice one area at a time) allowed me to ice my knees, shins and ankles all at once, which was quicker.

2. It was also A LOT colder this way, which made it even faster.

3. And finally, it was also cleaner- once I was done, I stood up, quickly wiped off my legs and finito! No more wiping up all the little puddles of water and sweat all around me.

So why did I ice myself today (as opposed to all the other days when I'm too lazy to)? Because today I ran TWENTY MILES! Thaaaaat's right! Today's 20-miler officially marks my longest training run ever! I woke up intending to do an 18-miler, but since I was running a very easy course (flat, shaded) and still felt pretty strong around miles 15-16, I decided to try and push myself past the 18 and see if I could hit the wall. I also wanted to do it so I don't have to do a very long run when I'm in San Francisco this weekend (the plan is to do a medium run through Golden Gate Park on Sat, and a hike along the coastal trail on Sunday).

Just like at the marathon, I felt okay until mile 18. However, very soon thereafter, I started a gradual deterioration- my knees started to ache and my heart started to pound even though all I was doing was slowly shuffling along. It was the closest I've come to recreating those last, very painful 8 miles of San Diego, and I can't say I missed it.

I've now logged two decent long runs in preparation for Long Beach- the 19-miler 3-4 weeks ago, and today's 20-miler. If I can log one more 20-miler, and perhaps even a 22-miler, I'll feel more optimistic about not deterioriating so dramatically in Long Beach. My goal for that race is still the same- to finish as close to 4:30 as I possibly can. I'd love to break 4:30, but I'll be fine with a 4:35 too...since as we all know, even if I finish at 4:39:59, I'm just going to categorize myself as 4:30 marathoner anyway!!! ;-)

Yays & Nays

Small yay. Going on an 18-miler tomorrow. It's been awhile since I've gone on a long run, so I'm long overdue for some ego pumping.

Medium yay. Roy and I had our first garage sale ever this morning! I've been waiting to do it for over two years, so I was beyond excited about it and couldn't wait for this day to arrive! Roy, on the other hand, was not that into the idea, but once he saw the available square footage of his garage triple and the amount of $$ we hauled in (let's not, tee hee...tell him how much it all cost originally!), he got into it.

Big yay. Because we made way more than we'd ever dreamed of today, we're getting another LCD TV! But this time, a smaller one for our bedroom wall!

Small nay. We were so pooped after the morning garage sale that instead of cruising down to the beach, 'we' (that silly Roy!!!) decided to see The Nanny Diaries instead. Loved the book, but the film was horribly painful. Shoulda listened to the reviews (damn! Why are they always right?!).

Medium nay #1. Where the hell are my weekly Us and People magazines? They were supposed to come on Friday and they didn't. I just checked the mail again today and they're still not here!!! How am I supposed to see Brit's hair without the extensions? A skeletal Angelina and her fourteen orphans? Me leaving Whole Foods in San Francisco? And to add insult to injury, all I got in today's mail was my monthly issue of ZooNews magazine (free to annual passholders). Is it just me or are other people creeped out by 98% of the animals on this Earth?! (Please, please tell me I'm not alone.) I'm freaked out by all the pictures, especially this month's featured animal- condors! Those pink, wrinkly necks, those hooked beaks and those evil, beady eyes...blech! Retch! Unless it's a panda, a koala or a cute, little, puppy...keep it away from me.

Medium nay #2. I still can't sit through a film without stuffing my face with a large bag of buttered popcorn (and you know...half of the free refill as well). I'd like to say it made me feel sick afterwards (because then at least I'd be normal), but no- I'd love more, thank you very much.

Big fat nay. You can't eat that much friggen buttered popcorn and not suffer from massive a** explosion the next day on a long run, so guess who has to monotonously loop around her house NINE times so that she can be near a restroom the whole time? God I suck. My a** hates me. :-(

Something only a female (or a very large breasted male) runner can appreciate...

A few days ago I had my annual 'woman's exam' with a new OBGYN. Like many new docs I've had over the years- she was somewhat of a rookie. Straight outta med school. I know newbies freak some people out, but I love 'em. They're ten times more attentive and still very, very paranoid, so they tend to spend a lot more time with you and run a lot broader range of tests. Sure, sure...their hands might shake a little when inserting that IV, and yeah, they might accidentally slip a tongue depresser up your a** when really, all you had was an earache, but because they're so new- they're not jaded yet! When I ask a question, they answer it (rather than dismiss it). When I look them in the eye, they meet my gaze (rather than bury their heads in my chart). When I smile at them, they smile back. And when I ask them to hold me tight after administering the painful pap smear, they...well- nobody said they're perfect.

So this new doc was no exception. She was very outgoing and we soon developed a comfortable rapport. That is- until the breast exam. Almost the second she pulled my gown back, I heard a deep intake of breath, and then...silence. Once I stopped yapping and realized she was just standing there, I became paranoid. My god- was there a huge lump on one of my breasts? Were there two?!! Or were my boobs just THAT small to her?! (Surely she's had other Asian patients before!) Or *gasp* were my boobs THAT ugly? Because I mean, COME ON!!! Yes!!! I got fat and then lost a ton of weight!!! They're gonna sag!!!

When I finally started to ask what was going on, I swear- she turned her head away to hide the tears. Finally she stammered out, "It uh...it uh...just looks like you've had...a lot of biopsies down here." And then I had to laugh. Because she's right. It does look like I've had a lot of biopsies down there. But they're just long, red angry welts from a few of my old jogging bras (standard chafing) that heh heh, do happen to strongly resemble biopsy scars. Poor girl.

In hindsight, I probably could have parlayed her sympathies into a free, twelve-month supply of Vicodin, Tylenol with codeine AND Temazepan, but I've never said I was that bright!

The San Diego Half Rundown!

Check out that extended hamhock! Looks good enough to eat, doesn't it? My guess is that it would feed about 10 for Thanksgiving dinner (or four Hawaiians).

And you thought I was kidding about the still chubby legs...the proof is right here, folks! This race pic is tiny and blurred because I'm too cheap to pay the usual $15-20 per photo it would cost to order them. So instead, I get the free 0.1 megapixel photo that you have to squint to see (unless you're Asian). Fine by me.

So although I had a great weekend, I feel a little wrecked at the moment. At present, I have:

• A sunburnt, bright red face (can someone PLEASE make an SPF of 250 for slow runners?)
• A nice-sized bump on the right side of my head (I'm gonna sue those bastards at Cost Plus World Market!!!)
• A mountainous, painful cyst on my torso (guess I need to scrub better in the shower...filthy pig!)

On Saturday morning I drove down to San Diego, but because I stubbornly refused to cave in to my thimble-sized bladder on the way down (gas station restrooms are so nasty), I was about ready to burst. As soon as I got to the Expo, I quickly parked my car and dashed to the nearest restroom facilities (in this case, Cost Plus World Market). I'm not exaggerating when I say this was the closest I have come to pissing myself as an adult. I was DYING. So while I did my best to calmly run-walk to the back of the store, once I got to the back storeroom I threw the doors open and did a full-sprint to the first restroom door I saw- which happenned to be the men's room. I couldn't have cared less who was in there. Thankfully, no one was, otherwise I'd be transcribing this entry to Roy over the phone (I get one call, right?) from my jail cell.

In any case, because I opted not use the men's urinal (which would have been a better idea), I raced to the one stall to yank it open. The problem is, whatever numb nut installed it made it so that it only opened up about a FOOT before slamming shut again. And unfortunately for myself (and my bladder), I was already halfway through the crack before the door richocheted backward, slamming viciously into the right side of my head. It hurt so fu**ing bad that I actually staggered for a bit, and I think, went into a daze. And yes, a little pee dribbled out at this point because the impact caused me to momentarily lose bowel control (thank God I didn't have to do a #2 or it would been even messier). Once the intense pain/shock subsided, I let out a string of profanity and frantically resumed squeezing through the crack so I could jump onto the toilet. I didn't even bother to lock the stall door. Because at that point, I couldn't have cared less if John Doe and his three sons had strolled in and saw me sitting there, eyes half closed, moaning in relief.

Once I was done, I was still in such pain (I also sustained injuries to my left wrist and hip...bastards!) that I really wanted to notify the management so that others could avoid the same tragic fate, but then I realized I'd have to cop to using their men's room. So instead I gingerly hobbled out of the store, trying to hide the fact that I'd just peed myself a little bit. And you know what? My head is still friggen' sore! Everytime I chew or take a bite out of anything, my jaw/head throbs in that area. Lesson learned? Pee at the nasty gas station restroom so that later- you don't have to crouch in the back of your minivan and change your underwear like a potty-training 3-year old. Good God, people!

But ahem. I digress. And yes, I do seem to have had a lot of potty incidents lately. In any case, once I recovered I headed over to the Expo to check in, and like last year, picked up another pair of running shoes from Road Runner Sports (this time, some New Balance stability shoes that normally retail for $129.99 for only $40). I've become a huge fan of the 'once-worn' shoe bargains at the SD expo! I've never seen a set up like theirs anywhere else.

Later that afternoon I checked into my favorite motel (it's on Pacific Coast Highway in the Gas Lamp district and only costs $90, even in summer), and later that evening, got to re-experience city life by walking around to rustle up some grub (picked up a delicious three-cheese sub from a very authentic Italian deli for dinner, and some whole wheat carrot bread and a banana for breakfast) before taking my favorite sleeping pill and passing out cold around 8:30.

I got up at 4:15am this morning to drive up to Balboa Park (only 1-2 miles from the motel) so I could catch the shuttle to Pt. Loma. Because I wasn't with Roy I had a chance to chat/joke around with other runners. One lady has been a 10-min. miler for over 15 years (rock it, girlfriend!) and the other was a 12-minute miler. Awesome. We all joked about not training properly for infamous final 'hill' even though we all knew better.

So how'd I do? Despite what felt like considerably warmer weather than last year (my guess is 6-8 degrees warmer judging by the fact that last year, I swore a sweater for the first 2-3 miles...this year, I ripped it off 30 min. before the gun even went off), I did better. Here are the numbers:

Finish Time

• 2007 - 2:08:30 (9:49 min. miles)
• 2006 - 2:14:49 (10:17 min. miles)

Place (7,750 runners)

• 2007 - 224 (division)/1,430 (females)/2,578 (overall)
• 2006 - 294 (division)/937 (females)/3,725 (overall)

Even though I'm still the same weight as last year and didn't train that much more or differently, I still kinda hoped I'd do a little better this year based on the fact that I've been running longer and am now able to do longer runs. But once I realized how warm and humid it would be (even the announcer warned us at the starting line that 'it was not a day to shoot for a personal bests' and to be sure to hydrate ourselves), I had serious doubts. Because the heat really did get to me (I live in a much warmer city than San Diego, but I run in the very early morning when it's cooler). I not only drank a lot more water at each and every aid station, but I also polished off ALL the water in my fuel belt (a first), ran through a water spray/mist three different times AND for the first time during a run (since I fear getting my socks wet and developing blisters)- doused my head with water TWICE. I was dying. Even though I downed 6 shot bloks during the race, I never felt them give me that usual 'kick', so it all made for one long, heckuva race. And afterwards, though I didn't feel physically exhausted, I felt pretty dehydrated and hot. Not to mention badly burnt, since that sun was pretty strong the entire race.

My strategy was simply to pace myself so that I could finish without having to walk up those final hills. It was probably the hottest race I've ever done, and it showed. I never felt powerful or in control of this race. Pretty much from mile one it felt like I was straining myself and tiring my legs out, even though I was moving at a pretty slow clip. Thankfully on this day, the endurance side of me (since really, there is NO speedy side of me) stepped up. Unlike last year when I was dying over the last 2-3 mile gradual, uphill climb (where like many others, I had to resort to a hybrid walk-run), this year, I ran them. At one point, when I was about halfway up the hill and realized I was going to be able to do it, I really wanted to pump my fist in my air and howl (I would have, but I was too tired). It would have been quite a sight (I was sweaty and looking scarier than usual because I'd just doused my head with water, thereby firmly plastering my ricebowl bangs right across the expanse of my forehead), but I wouldn't have cared. Last year those final miles scared the bejeezus out of me, but this year- I took 'em. Hollah atcha girl.

Because this race was physically and psychologically harder on me (the heat), I did notice that a lot more self doubt entered my mind ("Do I really want to do another marathon?" "Do I really need to keep doing races? They're so much harder! Can't I just run at home instead?" "How can you be SLOW?!"). However, as I've said many times before, running a race really is a lot like child birth...once you're done, you forget how bloody exhausting and painful it was and start to plan the next one. ;-)

I forgot to mention that like at the Rock N Roll marathon, the post-race food tent once again had a Soy Joy booth. The first time I looked at a bar I remember thinking- is that a dried, broken piece of biscotti from the mid-90s? And the first time I took a bite out of one I remember thinking- why, yes, it is... It was dry, bland and kinda, well sucky. Not to mention small. But I have to say, they've grown on me, and now I love 'em. Especially the mango-coconut one. So like stars scoop up free swag from the Sundance festival, I did my Chinese-blooded duty and scooped up more free Soy Joy bars. Message to Soy Joy- please keep coming to these races. Because I love you.

I'll get my tofu one way or the other!

Last week I was nearly despondent when I realized that this year's LA Tofu Festival is the same weekend as the race. :-(

(Do you like this year's logo?! I say it's about damn time shoyu got it's rightful place alongside the tofu!).

Anyway, had I known this a few months ago, along with the fact that both Roy and my running partner were going to flake out on me, I may have opted to stuff tofu down my throat with Lana & Patrick in LA instead!

Roy won't be able to join me down in San Diego this weekend because he had a few utterly ridiculous excuses like "There's a nursing shortage, dear...and my sick and dying patients really need me" and "If I don't go, I'll get fired, honey..."). So because of his absence, I had hoped to camp (in a very crowded, safe campground) in order to try and cut costs. However, because Roy very quickly nipped that plan in the bud citing safety concerns, it's looking like it's (ugh) going to be another very pricey weekend. Not to mention that (hee hee)...guess who's going back to San Fran in two weeks?!! Today at work I realized that Labor Day weekend is coming up, and since Roy works for most of it, I asked him if he would mind if I headed back north to hang with Joseph for the three-day weekend. And since he doesn't, I'm off! Sweet!

I have no plans other than another long Saturday morning run through the park, a walk across the bridge, more delicious vegetarian food, and maybe a quick trip back to the Ferry Marketplace to get more tofu and fresh yogurt... Any other recommendations for my 'San Francisco off the beaten tracks' whistlestop tour? (I've been to the city well over a dozen times, so I've already done most of the standard tourist stuff.) But damnit, if there's a great nipple ring shop off of Haight that I've somehow managed to overlook, by all means, fill me in!

Definitely moving to SF someday!

As much as I'm a simple country girl at heart, I have equal passion for the city. So not surprisingly, we had a great time in San Fran. Here’s a quick snapshot of the good, the bad, the ugly!

(+) I found money! On Friday evening while we were strolling through a posh neighborhood, I spotted $20 on the sidewalk. I quickly let out a little yelp, ran and grabbed it, hoisted it over my head and danced around like I’d won the lottery. No more than few seconds later I shrieked even louder when I spotted two more $20s laying a few feet away. As I took off to retrieve those bills, Roy let out a whoop that he’d found a fourth $20 bill. I think at that point we were all hoping to find a brown paper bag stuffed with cash and some coke that a dealer had to pitch out his car window (which I would have either turned over to the police or given to a convent), but no such luck! I was so ecstatic that I made Roy grab my fist and pump it in the air for hours afterwards (it’s a tradition).

(+) Later that evening we met Jonathan, and as a bonus- Devin! Rarely is someone EXACTLY what you envision, but J-dawg absolutely was! He was well spoken, intelligent, funny, insightful, compassionate, and much more disciplined than I (he had one teeny bite of Devin’s dessert! I, on the other hand, wolfed down over ½ of Roy’s strawberry rhubarb pie and nearly ½ of Joseph’s German chocolate cake! I even started to eye Devin’s remaining cupcake frosting but managed to refrain…). Jonathan even good naturedly joined us in ribbing poor Devin most of the evening (psst! 2 out of the 3 us of did a ‘Devin’ on the way home in his honor!!!). Because Jonathan was the first person I ever felt truly inspired by and connected to (from the health/fitness blog community), I assumed it be very surreal to meet him, possibly even awkward. But in reality, it felt just like seeing an old friend- comfortable and natural (I mean, I always greet old friends by weeping hysterically and firmly wrapping my chubby thighs tightly around their torso).

(+) I felt two primary emotions while running through the Panhandle & Golden Gate Park the next morning- sheer awe and pure rage/jealousy. How is it that I live such a wholesome existence (some call me the embodiment of the Virgin Mary, but I prefer to be compared to Mother Teresa or Ghandi) AND have to pay quarterly estimated taxes- but I get to run through the hot, dusty, ugly brown desert (all the while dodging horse dung, broken glass and used condoms)…while all those goddamned hippies in the SAME state get to prance around on soft, shaded pathways that meander through a large, sprawling park with Dutch-inspired tulip gardens, the Pacific ocean, a rose garden, small lakes and a serene Japanese garden?!!! F**kers!!! All of you!!! I also noticed that even though I run all the time in my hometown, I'm lucky to pass one scabby, twitching crack addict, yet there were no less than 20-30 running groups circling the park and laughing together. Grrr!

(+) I also loved, loved, loved the Ferry Building’s Farmers Market we went to after our run on Saturday. Nearly everything sold there is raw, natural, organic and fresh, which manages to simultaneously rock the world(s) of both hippies and yuppies. Pretty neat! Though the prices were on the high side ($3.50-3.95/lb. for peaches), I was in heaven. For lunch, I bought another slice of strawberry rhubarb pie, a peach, and a container of cooked tofu in a sesame oil/chili paste. I also stuffed down part of Joseph's two $11 grilled cheese sandwiches (so yes, that's over $22 on two sandwiches for his lunch, not including his drink or the tip...and you wonder why my anal sphincter contracts involuntarily everytime I go out to eat or drink with him). Although, I have to admit that yes, that was the best damn grilled cheese sandwich in the universe (parmesan, Asiago and mozzarella cheese melted between two slices of a thin, crusty bread lightly dusted with olive oil that had hints of rosemary and basil).

(+) Alcatraz!!! It’s exactly what you’d expect- terrifying and fascinating at the same time. I will say though that the company subcontracted by the park service to ferry people over there and back truly offers an authentic prison experience. You must bring a picture ID and the credit card used to book the tickets or you WILL NOT BE ADMITTED! You must park early and check in 30 minutes early or you WILL NOT BE ADMITTED! You must stand in this four-hundred person long Russian-bread line in the freezing cold and not complain or you WILL NOT BE ADMITTED! You must have your ticket out for the attendant, plastered to your forehead as you board the boat or we will knife you AND prostitute your grandmother! If you bring anything other than bottled water onto the island you must consume it on the dock or we will chew off your testicles!!! Good lord, Al Capone had it easy up there compared to us tourists! What made the day super cool (and nearly made us forget we’d paid more than what a black market kidney costs in China to get there) was that it was something like their 73rd anniversary, so a lot of former guards and residents (the families of prison personnel) were on hand to tours, give speeches, and take questions (if I ever need to bust out of the pokey someday, I’ve got some neat ideas).

As for the negatives…well, hmm. I guess there really weren’t any.

(-) Well, I guess there was one moment of sadness when I realized that as much I would LOVE to be a regular Whole Foods shopper, it will never happen. Because even if you doubled my paycheck, you would still have to pry the $5.50 out of my grubby hands even if it was for a delicious basket of organic blueberries grown by HIV-infected, one-eyed dying orphans from Afghanistan (case in point, a day earlier, I’d found trays of blueberries in a Chinese store for $1 each, so I bought two and dusted ‘em both off over the course of two days, pesticides and all. Deee-licious!).

(-) We were only offered weed once during the trip. Though we smelled it a good dozen times while we were there, only one person asked us if we wand to buy it. You know what this means? It means you're getting old. Being Asian with rice bowl bangs doesn't exactly help those offers roll in either. I swear, we wouldn't have bought it (really), but like being asked for your ID at a bar, you still secretly hope it happens just so you know you still got it goin' on.

Otherwise, the trip was great. Especially since we also stayed in a great area. Like most apartments in downtown SF, my brother’s pad is perched atop a steep, windy hill, but that grants him a beautiful view of the city from his living room and a phenomenal view of the Golden Gate Bridge from his rooftop. We also walked/ran somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 miles over three days, which though enjoyable, did very little to counteract the raspberry and peach ales from Orgasmic Pizza, the li hing mui kettlecorn, the handmade ice cream from Joe’s, the Herbivore feast, trays of sushi from the Nihonmachi street festival (which Joseph called ‘the only street fair in San Fran without pot’), chili/clam chowder served up in those huge, hollowed-out sourdough rolls, our nibbles from Whole Foods, etc. Even so, we sure can’t wait to go back…oink, oink! ;-)

Ohm, shanti, shanti...

Gotta love the funky city of San Francisco... Because over the last few days I've already seen more incense shops, yoga studios, organic produce and crack whores than I've seen over the last four years of living in Southern California! I promise to write more about the trip, but for now...a few photos!

This first one is me killing time in my cell. Because our semi-inebriated 'tour guide' forgot to book our reservations, instead of paying only $23 each to see Alcatraz, we got to pay $53 per person instead! (Don't worry, once again, I have temporarily stripped Joseph of his Asian heritage...) No self respecting Asian EVER pays full price, much less more than TWICE the regular fare!!! (And I won't even get into him asking the waitress at Herbivore if she was absolutely sure they didn't have any meat in back...).

This next photo is of me at my first trip at Whole Foods!!! I was very, very excited about being able to go there, but like most celebrities captured in Us and People magazine while shopping there, I was devastated to see that the paparazzi was already eagerly gathered outside just waiting to snap a few photos of me.

I had my handler (Roy) carry my bags so they wouldn't be able to see that the only items I purchased (cripes that place is pricey!) were some free organic fruit snacks (I had a coupon) and some soy crisps (Whole Foods has a generic brand!).

And finally, this last photo of Joseph (who yes, now looks bulimic since he's dropped over 50 lbs in the last 2 years...and YES, this is a wonder to me too, as I saw him on average, consume at least three square meals, two snacks, a giant bowl of ice cream, and four alcoholic beverages per day) and I is funny only to those in our immediate family. We are imitating my youngest brother's apparent inability to smile. The minute a camera is pointed in his general direction, he loses all ability to look like a normal person and makes one of two what we call 'stupid faces.' I am demonstrating one, and Joseph is demonstrating the other (note to Joel: learn to smile, you a** clown!!!).

Gimme love, baby!

Some of you might remember that during our trip to Egypt I developed what one might call a 'fondness' for a certain dish there (kushari). I believe I made Roy eat it somewhere in the neighborhood of 15 times over a period of a week. I swore before we left the country that I would learn how to make it. But because my addictive behavior is trumped only by my laziness (I spent a grand total of about ten minutes half heartedly Googling for Egyptian restaurants and recipes), I've never had a bowl since.

However, last night a triumphant Roy called on his way home from the hospital to tell me that he had an Egyptian patient who had given him a bowl of kushari. He (wisely) declined to take so much as a bite and carefully wrapped it up to bring home to me. At the point that he called, I had just finished eating dinner, but I certainly wasn't going to risk offending Allah...so the minute he came home- I dug in.

Lordy, lordy it was as good as I remembered! Eating it took me right back to all the dusty, noisy kushari cafes we ate at across Egypt- swatting flies the whole meal, sheep grazing at our feet, rowdy funeral processions passing by, Roy almost giving his life during one meal once we learned we had been getting ripped off by the same waiter for days... (In hindsight, squaring off with a short, angry Egyptian over $2 in a third-world country is probably not the wisest idea, since had he lost- I'm sure he'd still be imprisoned and eating camel dung to this day). But the point is, my man took a stand for his woman AND her kushari and he won (smug smile).

Hippies rule

Back when I was a kid, I used to think all hippies were old, thin, wiry, white guys who lived at the beach, had large, dirty backpacks and smelled like dried piss and body odor. Now I know that's simply not true. Hippies can look just like you and me, only they all live in San Francisco, drive a Prius, shop at Whole Foods, always sort their recyclables (on principle...not just 'cause they get 5 cents back per bottle/can) and think Cindy Sheehan is right on the money (well, before she went cuckoo).

But this weekend I intend on joining all those hippie folk. Because this Friday, Roy & I are heading up to visit Joseph, who has already planned an exciting, authentic weekend of San Francisco fun!

• Friday night dinner at Herbivore (cool vegan restaurant)


• Scenic Saturday morning run through various parks/along the bay, to be followed by yoga class, a massage, a visit to a Japanese street festival (gotta keep it real), and dinner at AsiaSF (part restaurant/part gender illusion bar)


• Sunday morning trip to Alcatraz, lunch at another vegetarian restaurant, and a walking tour of the city*

*If you've never had the pleasure of doing a walking tour with a city landscape inspector...trust me, it isn't pretty. All I hear about is how the wells around the trees aren't large enough, how the grass desperately needs a broadleaf application if they ever plan to control their friggen' chickleaf infestation, how the goddamn subcontractor is trying to hide skimping on fertilizer by overwatering the grass, why the goddamn park director should have some soil samples taken so he can see how the fertilizer needs more potassium and phosphorus... And if you think that's bad- God help you if you happen to pass some dead or dying trees! I had no idea grown males could shriek like that.

I'm actually really looking forward to the trip. And not just because I'm a sweaty pig with badly chafed chubby thighs who's been dying in this heat- but because San Fran rocks. It's one of our nation's finest cities! My top 5?

1. New York City
2. San Francisco
3. Chicago
4. Honolulu
5. It's a toss up between Seattle, Miami & San Diego...

Once we get back from SF, we also have one more really nifty weekend to look forward to! We've been trying to figure out the next time we can go camping up in Lake Arrowhead, and we initially came up with the weekend of Yom Kippur (don't worry, I've already checked with my rabbi and he says it's cool as long as I remember to wear my yarmulke at all times). And purely by coincidence, it's the exact same weekend as a race up in Lake Arrowhead (Loop the Lake) that I've been wanting to do! So now we're going to be able to do both! How cool is that?!! Camping, a race, and unlimited s'mores all in one weekend!!! God really DOES love me!

I'm always happy when I have events to look forward to. Otherwise I just sit around the house and, well...eat. As a result, I tend to book our weekend activities months in advance, and on the weekends that Roy works- I chill out at bookstores, do longer runs, and watch a sh**tload of back episodes of Entourage since we just discovered the show (I want to marry Ari, even if he is a prick).

Go Josie, it's your birthday...we 'gon party like it's yo birthday...

Funny...even though these pics make it look like all I wear is workout clothes, I actually didn't work out for 3 days this week. And it's not because it was my birthday (shout out to all the homies and g's who gave me so much camping love!), it's because I've been moping.

Moping because as usual- I've been eating insane amounts of food, feeling powerless, continuing to gain weight, feeling depressed and pathetic, blah blah blah... You know the drill. At Roy's suggestion (he who has lost 80 pounds in a few weeks), I've decided to stop thinking about eating issues as something I will have to deal with for the rest of my life (overwhelming and frustrating), and instead, take things day by day... Wow, novel idea, isn't it? (Maybe AA should look into adopting a concept like that.)

So while running my 15-miler this morning, I came up with an idea, which I have creatively called- The One Week Challenge. My goal is simple- to see if I can go...heeey, whaddaya know...one whole week without overeating/bingeing. Believe me, this is a lofty goal (don't let my size fool you).

My plan is this- each and every time I feel like stuffing myself with food, I will instead stop whatever I'm doing, get up, leave the house/office/whereever I am, and walk for one mile.

My goal over that mile is more than just to create a distraction (since I'd probably just end up in front of a 7-11 anyway). It's to try and use that time to think about why I'm 'starving' and filled with anxiety, and instead, try to calm down/be with myself and feel what I'm supposed to be feeling instead of trying to quell it with massive amounts of chips, yogurt, chocolate, protein bars, macadamia nuts, li hing mui gummies and cheesecake.

If I've never said this here before- I no longer have a weight issue. But I do have some eating issues. And they're not getting any better. Eating issues can wreak havoc on an otherwise ideal life, and as I'm learning, unless you attack the root causes of the eating issues, well...you're gonna be stuck in limbo forever.

So believe it or not, in two and a half years of getting in shape, I've never tried anything like this. My usual M.O. anytime I've felt psychological hunger has been to cave in, become filled with panic, launch a campaign to counteract the binge by becoming overly disciplined with my diet over the next few days and exercise my a** off. And look how successful that approach has been.

So I'm very hopeful and optimistic. I'm sure Roy and my coworkers are going to be in for quite an experience, as they're undoubtedly about to see a lot of me swearing, sweating and huffing and puffing over the next few days. ;-) Wish me luck. I'll keep you all posted.

Tee hee...I'm a cheater

This is why I can NEVER, EVER smoke crack.

Yesterday was one of those days where I knew I had to get a short run in, but I was so sleepy and lazy that I knew I'd be lucky if I made it a mile. So to give myself a little boost, I snuck a few 'emergency' shot bloks I had in my workout bag, and man! I was ready to pounce into a WWE wrestling ring and kick some a**! That sh** works! Where I could barely keep my eyes open just 10 minutes before, I not only pounded out the fastest 5 miles I've ever run before, but I did it happily (singing out loud, air drumming). And just in case you think endorphins may have had a little something to do with pumping me up...trust me, endorphins don't stand a chance against my crappy attitude. It was the bloks.

For those who have never used gels/blocks- they're pretty much intended for longer, endurance workouts (by providing needed sodium/carbohydrates necessary to help sustain the body). They are NOT intended for merely boosting a sour attitude every time you have to go on a short weekday run (which is how I've started taking them). The only thing that holds me back from tearing open all the bags and stuffing my cheeks with them 24-7 is the fear that they will become less effective in real races/long runs and the cost (although I did find them for much cheaper with free shipping on Amazon).

Please, please...somebody tell me I'm not the only wimp abusing shot bloks in this manner.

I'm waffling on whether to do a 15-mile run on hillier terrain, or a 20-mile flat/downhill run this weekend. It will be my last long run before the San Diego half since next weekend we fly up to San Fran to hang with Joseph (who incidentally, has just bought his 6th car in less than 10 years...so yes, manic self-indulgence runs in the family), and the following weekend is the race. Something tells me I need to do the shorter, hillier distance (blech). I prefer to run longer on flatter distances...the path of least resistance.

Anyone else running San Diego? :-)