Victims of fashion are those shop assistants that give me dirty looks when I enter their “exclusive” boutiques wearing jeans, t-shirt and takkies. I am wearing no jewellery or make up, but I have remembered my credit card that I may swipe if I find the right clothes to wear. I obviously need smart clothes if I am not wearing the correct name brands. I’m a Nike or Adidas girl and have only been introduced to Chanel, Dior and Louis Vitton. The irony about the people who wear these brands is that they probably get themselves into debt to purchase these labels as they are the consumers who can least afford the Levis. The shop assistants who judge the appearance of potential customers are the real victims who cannot earn more the 6k per month, which does not even cover the accessories bill.
I’m a practical person who has never been fashion conscious and I tend to dress more sporty than trendy. I do not see the point of styling my hair when it lasts for a few hours before I have to shower after exercising. Make up never stays on my eyes and always smudges. I have been scared by people when I see them in the morning with their natural look when I have only seen them with a layer of paint on their face. I cannot understand the point of curling lashes, straightening hair and waxing the rest.
I bought myself a pair of Chanel fake sunglasses and they are my camoflage. Hiding half my face comes in useful when I want to stare at people or save money on sunblock by only applying it the lower half of my face. These manufactures unwittingly support skin cancer prevention.
I can’t walk in heels without people asking why I am limping. High shoes are great in winter when my pants do not get sodden from being dragged on the wet ground. The soles will take years of walking to wear down as they are so thick, so investing in these shoes could be value for money, unless fashion dates. I recently purchased a pair of pointy boots and although they make my feet look three sizes bigger, they are useful defence weapons if I am attacked. No thief would stand after being stabbed and kicked simultaneously in the shins.
Pashmina was a new word to add to my journalistic vocabulary. But now that is almost already “last season” and ….
The real fashion faux pas is not wearing red and pink together, but the mistakes that the clothing industry should have noticed by now:
• Jeans – nobody has an attractive crack and bending down is difficult enough without the exposure it creates.
• Why must the smallest piece of lingerie have a label? The label is often bigger than the g-string and ALWAYS sticks out for the world to see that I wear Medium panties.
• The stickers mark the clothes. Tearing off the adhesive leaves sticky residue that often leaves stains in the fabric.
• Shoe sizes are on the outside of shoes – this type of information should be private.
• Hand washing is inconvenient. If the modern person has time to do hand washing and leave it to dry in winter, we would have time to make our own clothes.
• Most people do not want to expose their stomachs and muffins. Especially in winter.
The fashion industry has fans and slaves all over the world, from sales assistants in boutiques to sewers in sweat shops. Even the rebels are slaves to fashion because the alternative clothing stores are seldom cheap unless they are second hand charity shops. In my opinion the real fashion faux pas is to follow the brands and never develop a unique fashion style.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Occupational Hazards
An uncomfortable silence settles around the dinner table until somebody casually enquires as to what the guests do for a living. A neutral, safe question until the gynaechologist reveals his medical speciality. Women blush, children look confused and some idiot makes an ill-timed joke about female anatomy that kills the conversation and leaves everybody staring at their plates.
I also work with human anatomy (muscles instead of wombs), but the public response to my trade as a personal trainer is similar. People either glare at me, trying to see the muscles bulging through the clothes or they confess about the last time they went to gym. Exercise history becomes a confession of guilt about a sedentary lifestyle, lack of motivation and stress. High school sporting achievements are recounted and prepartum weight is a proud memory when they compare their activity to the present, often with visual aids. People show me a beer boep or stretch marks during this unauthorised confession. I can identify with psychologists who must get an earful everytime they tell strangers their occupation. I’m always too nervous to speak to psychologists in fear of being analysed, classified or certified as crazy or unstable. Yet, my profession seems to encourage confession! If only I could prescribe Prozac, but endorphins and other happy hormones are more effective in my field.
I get dirty looks in bars when I drink cider and people assume that I’m an alcoholic. Snide comments are passed when I go grocery shopping and observers notice chocolate in the trolley. I actually want to cover my groceries and put a “do not disturb” sign on my food. I prescribe exercise but am expected to have a flawless eating plan and lead a dull life. The pressure to look perfect and the cliched questions has led me to sometimes tell people that I am a PA and not a PT. Personal assistants look after clients, listen attentively and do administration that is part of my job description. I write programes, poll clients and attend to their training needs. I listen to complaints, issue invoices and calculate payments that clients may not track accurately. Nobody asks a PA personal questions unrealted to their job or bombards them with a quick fix for years of self abuse.
I wish that people would ask intelligent questions instead of pulling and wobbling the fat under their arm. Waving flabby limbs do not equate to asking for advice to tighten triceps. We ask acquaintances in property about the value of our estate and the plumber friend about a blocked drain, so why not ask me how to structure a balanced exercise programme. Instead, people try to stare through my clothes and assess my physique instead of making polite conversation.
The assumption that people with physical jobs are stupid is also made by strangers. People start talking slower on hearing my occupation. It’s as pointless as talking louder to a blind person. People are surpirsed to hear that I have a degree in exercise science and other qualifications that were not achieved solely by sweating. Being well qualified and experienced in running my own business has led to many networking opportunities that would not be possible in a normal workplace.
The real occupational hazards exist in the office where stress levels are high and mindsets are determined by the boss with no room for creativity or lateral thinking.
I also work with human anatomy (muscles instead of wombs), but the public response to my trade as a personal trainer is similar. People either glare at me, trying to see the muscles bulging through the clothes or they confess about the last time they went to gym. Exercise history becomes a confession of guilt about a sedentary lifestyle, lack of motivation and stress. High school sporting achievements are recounted and prepartum weight is a proud memory when they compare their activity to the present, often with visual aids. People show me a beer boep or stretch marks during this unauthorised confession. I can identify with psychologists who must get an earful everytime they tell strangers their occupation. I’m always too nervous to speak to psychologists in fear of being analysed, classified or certified as crazy or unstable. Yet, my profession seems to encourage confession! If only I could prescribe Prozac, but endorphins and other happy hormones are more effective in my field.
I get dirty looks in bars when I drink cider and people assume that I’m an alcoholic. Snide comments are passed when I go grocery shopping and observers notice chocolate in the trolley. I actually want to cover my groceries and put a “do not disturb” sign on my food. I prescribe exercise but am expected to have a flawless eating plan and lead a dull life. The pressure to look perfect and the cliched questions has led me to sometimes tell people that I am a PA and not a PT. Personal assistants look after clients, listen attentively and do administration that is part of my job description. I write programes, poll clients and attend to their training needs. I listen to complaints, issue invoices and calculate payments that clients may not track accurately. Nobody asks a PA personal questions unrealted to their job or bombards them with a quick fix for years of self abuse.
I wish that people would ask intelligent questions instead of pulling and wobbling the fat under their arm. Waving flabby limbs do not equate to asking for advice to tighten triceps. We ask acquaintances in property about the value of our estate and the plumber friend about a blocked drain, so why not ask me how to structure a balanced exercise programme. Instead, people try to stare through my clothes and assess my physique instead of making polite conversation.
The assumption that people with physical jobs are stupid is also made by strangers. People start talking slower on hearing my occupation. It’s as pointless as talking louder to a blind person. People are surpirsed to hear that I have a degree in exercise science and other qualifications that were not achieved solely by sweating. Being well qualified and experienced in running my own business has led to many networking opportunities that would not be possible in a normal workplace.
The real occupational hazards exist in the office where stress levels are high and mindsets are determined by the boss with no room for creativity or lateral thinking.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Cancer survivor
The reaction to a cancer diagnosis is never the same and the victim is not always that person who has been inflicted with these evil cells. Friends and family are secondary sufferers and often the pain stems from the helplessness of not knowing what to say and do when your best friend or cousin has been diagnosed with a disease that randomly targets the healthy, obese, rich and successful.
My theory that bad things happen to good people gets proven over and over when I see active people being diagnosed and strong families reduced to insecure, unstable strangers when they cannot understand the curse of cancer. Trying to understand the source can cause more confusion with conflicting literature and some theories that suggest that cancer has emotional origins and is self inflicted. I believe that everybody who comes into contact with a disease should study the causes and treatments, but they should not judge or jump to conclusions about a disease that is changing so rapidly with scary statistics. If we were to follow the literature we would never drive in a car (carbon monoxide poisoning), take contraceptive pills (oestrogen increases could cause cancer), eat fast food (fatty acids and plastic wrapping increases cancer risk), eat fruit (pesticides that are sprayed on fruit has high levels of DDT) or stress. The irony is that when you are told not to stress about something, it becomes a worry. When I am told to “chill out”, I actually want to hit the person who utters those words. Radiation causes cancer, but radiation is a treatment to kill cancer. People have stopped smoking to avoid lung cancer, but non-smokers are becoming victims.
So, after confusing myself with all the information about cancer, I extract the facts, dismiss the tragic stories and follow the dietary and exercise advice. I also feel better knowing the stages or radiation and chemo and preparing myself for possible side effects that my friend may have after the operation.
It is difficult being supportive when somebody is not sick, but they are walking around with cells that are poisoning their bodies from the inside. You can’t tell them to “get well soon” as they are not in bed with flu symptoms. Often, the treatment will make them sicker than the disease and the more advanced the cancer, the worse the side effects. I stumbled on the fact that side effects from prescription drugs are among the top five reasons for death in the First World and cancer is less prevalent in the developing world so the poor are protected. The other side effect that is crippling is that cancer can cause people to become poor and the treatment is expensive and medical aids do not cover all expenses. My friend was trying to sort out the paperwork (which was enough to kill a forest) and I commented that the worst thing about having cancer was the administration. There are a panel of doctors and specialists involved in an operation and the gynaechologist, anaesthitist, surgeon and specialists must get consulted and paid.
As with all tragedies, there are good things that result from cancer. I have become more educated about the disease and people’s reaction to bad news and their unending support. Marriages are cemented, friendships are strengthened and self discovery is part of the process. I just hope that the medical advances continue to make detection and cancer management easier. There should be support groups for the supporters. Not only will my best friend survive cancer, I will too.
My theory that bad things happen to good people gets proven over and over when I see active people being diagnosed and strong families reduced to insecure, unstable strangers when they cannot understand the curse of cancer. Trying to understand the source can cause more confusion with conflicting literature and some theories that suggest that cancer has emotional origins and is self inflicted. I believe that everybody who comes into contact with a disease should study the causes and treatments, but they should not judge or jump to conclusions about a disease that is changing so rapidly with scary statistics. If we were to follow the literature we would never drive in a car (carbon monoxide poisoning), take contraceptive pills (oestrogen increases could cause cancer), eat fast food (fatty acids and plastic wrapping increases cancer risk), eat fruit (pesticides that are sprayed on fruit has high levels of DDT) or stress. The irony is that when you are told not to stress about something, it becomes a worry. When I am told to “chill out”, I actually want to hit the person who utters those words. Radiation causes cancer, but radiation is a treatment to kill cancer. People have stopped smoking to avoid lung cancer, but non-smokers are becoming victims.
So, after confusing myself with all the information about cancer, I extract the facts, dismiss the tragic stories and follow the dietary and exercise advice. I also feel better knowing the stages or radiation and chemo and preparing myself for possible side effects that my friend may have after the operation.
It is difficult being supportive when somebody is not sick, but they are walking around with cells that are poisoning their bodies from the inside. You can’t tell them to “get well soon” as they are not in bed with flu symptoms. Often, the treatment will make them sicker than the disease and the more advanced the cancer, the worse the side effects. I stumbled on the fact that side effects from prescription drugs are among the top five reasons for death in the First World and cancer is less prevalent in the developing world so the poor are protected. The other side effect that is crippling is that cancer can cause people to become poor and the treatment is expensive and medical aids do not cover all expenses. My friend was trying to sort out the paperwork (which was enough to kill a forest) and I commented that the worst thing about having cancer was the administration. There are a panel of doctors and specialists involved in an operation and the gynaechologist, anaesthitist, surgeon and specialists must get consulted and paid.
As with all tragedies, there are good things that result from cancer. I have become more educated about the disease and people’s reaction to bad news and their unending support. Marriages are cemented, friendships are strengthened and self discovery is part of the process. I just hope that the medical advances continue to make detection and cancer management easier. There should be support groups for the supporters. Not only will my best friend survive cancer, I will too.
Wedding woes
I hate weddings. That blunt statement sparks the obvious questions about whether I’m joking, jealous, jilted or just jaded.
As I’m writing this radical opinion, I’m supposed to be at my friend’s wedding. I’ve used various excuses to avoid weddings that I’ve dreaded attending - from stomach bugs and transport problems to absent partners - but the underlying truth is that I’d rather avoid the forced conversation, faked interest and rehearsed compliments.
I’ve never been married, but I have no issues with commitment. The first reaction to my aversion to weddings is that I’m a new age chick with a chip on my butch shoulder. I have no objections to marriage, but I find a wedding to be overrated. The truth is that I’m a normal woman with better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.
I am confused when I must go to a church on a day that is not Sunday. The church is literally divided and picking a pew becomes an important decision when all I’m trying to do is avoid tripping a long dress with high heels that get worn once a year. Regrettably, the dress won the trousers vs dress debate.
After struggling past people in the pew to find a seat, I wait. It seems that every time I go to a wedding the bride takes longer to arrive. As I’m about to nod off, the wedding march begins and everybody gets whiplash as the entourage enters. A slow procession of “step-together-step-together” begins as the bridal party moves into the church at a snail’s pace. A collective “aaahhh” echos across the church. Brides are always beautiful, regardless how much they resemble a meringue. The groom is always nervous eventhough the bride accepted his proposal and planned the wedding and will let nothing stop her from getting to the ceremony.
Tying the knot is a chorus of “I do’s” followed by a service and signing a register while the church waits. There’s never any action like in the movies when some guest objects to the union.
Moving to the reception in a convoy ends with a parking problem and a crowd of people standing around in an uncomfortable silence. More waiting. Eventually the newlyweds arrive in a flurry of petals, confetti and kisses. Confetti lands up everywhere except on the couple’s heads, usually most of it falls down my cleavage.
After being seated at a table where polite greetings are exchanged and small talk is forced, the champagne gets opened and the party begins. There are always many generations of family and different genres of friends who have to be catered for with food and music. Invitations get sent to family members that appear from the woodwork when the engagement is announced. A distant family member will not get invited to my budget wedding. Explaining how you know the happy couple becomes the conversation topic and you have to listen to numerous versions of every anecdote and childhood recollection.
Dinner is prepared early for the older generation and it gets served at the table if you are fortunate. Buffet dinners resemble university residence days you queue for ages and everybody comments on how you pile your plate.
Dancing follows eating and drinking. Dancing on a full stomach under glaring lights is a bit embarrassing and nobody wants to open the dance floor. In a nightclub, it is dark enough to hide lack of rhythm. The Bartman dance to Billy Ray Cyrus was fun in the Eighties, but it should have stayed there and wedding DJs should evolve. The cutest cliché is the kids that take over and dance with grownups under the lights.
Speeches reveal embarrassing facts that should have remained secrets and they always begin with friends saying that they don’t have much to reveal, but it turns out to be a lie. Everybody is thanked in detail repeatedly. Besides the predictable speeches, a wedding reception involves cold food, drunken old men, too much kissing and insincere compliments.
The much-anticipated wedding night that the groom gets teased about must be an anti-climax (in more ways than I am allowed to describe) as the bridal couple are exhausted after their long day of smiling. The bride struggles for a few minutes to remove the wedding dress that she spent months of dieting trying to fit into.
The honeymoon becomes a welcome holiday after the wedding pandemonium. Hopefully a honeymoon can be afforded after the cost of the wedding.
As I’m writing this radical opinion, I’m supposed to be at my friend’s wedding. I’ve used various excuses to avoid weddings that I’ve dreaded attending - from stomach bugs and transport problems to absent partners - but the underlying truth is that I’d rather avoid the forced conversation, faked interest and rehearsed compliments.
I’ve never been married, but I have no issues with commitment. The first reaction to my aversion to weddings is that I’m a new age chick with a chip on my butch shoulder. I have no objections to marriage, but I find a wedding to be overrated. The truth is that I’m a normal woman with better ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.
I am confused when I must go to a church on a day that is not Sunday. The church is literally divided and picking a pew becomes an important decision when all I’m trying to do is avoid tripping a long dress with high heels that get worn once a year. Regrettably, the dress won the trousers vs dress debate.
After struggling past people in the pew to find a seat, I wait. It seems that every time I go to a wedding the bride takes longer to arrive. As I’m about to nod off, the wedding march begins and everybody gets whiplash as the entourage enters. A slow procession of “step-together-step-together” begins as the bridal party moves into the church at a snail’s pace. A collective “aaahhh” echos across the church. Brides are always beautiful, regardless how much they resemble a meringue. The groom is always nervous eventhough the bride accepted his proposal and planned the wedding and will let nothing stop her from getting to the ceremony.
Tying the knot is a chorus of “I do’s” followed by a service and signing a register while the church waits. There’s never any action like in the movies when some guest objects to the union.
Moving to the reception in a convoy ends with a parking problem and a crowd of people standing around in an uncomfortable silence. More waiting. Eventually the newlyweds arrive in a flurry of petals, confetti and kisses. Confetti lands up everywhere except on the couple’s heads, usually most of it falls down my cleavage.
After being seated at a table where polite greetings are exchanged and small talk is forced, the champagne gets opened and the party begins. There are always many generations of family and different genres of friends who have to be catered for with food and music. Invitations get sent to family members that appear from the woodwork when the engagement is announced. A distant family member will not get invited to my budget wedding. Explaining how you know the happy couple becomes the conversation topic and you have to listen to numerous versions of every anecdote and childhood recollection.
Dinner is prepared early for the older generation and it gets served at the table if you are fortunate. Buffet dinners resemble university residence days you queue for ages and everybody comments on how you pile your plate.
Dancing follows eating and drinking. Dancing on a full stomach under glaring lights is a bit embarrassing and nobody wants to open the dance floor. In a nightclub, it is dark enough to hide lack of rhythm. The Bartman dance to Billy Ray Cyrus was fun in the Eighties, but it should have stayed there and wedding DJs should evolve. The cutest cliché is the kids that take over and dance with grownups under the lights.
Speeches reveal embarrassing facts that should have remained secrets and they always begin with friends saying that they don’t have much to reveal, but it turns out to be a lie. Everybody is thanked in detail repeatedly. Besides the predictable speeches, a wedding reception involves cold food, drunken old men, too much kissing and insincere compliments.
The much-anticipated wedding night that the groom gets teased about must be an anti-climax (in more ways than I am allowed to describe) as the bridal couple are exhausted after their long day of smiling. The bride struggles for a few minutes to remove the wedding dress that she spent months of dieting trying to fit into.
The honeymoon becomes a welcome holiday after the wedding pandemonium. Hopefully a honeymoon can be afforded after the cost of the wedding.
Overuse and injuries
Used and abused
Apart from the fantastic benefits of exercise such as stronger muscles, easier completion of daily tasks, happy hormones in the form of endorphins and the general wellbeing that comes with an active lifestyle, there are certain potential dangers.
A life filled with cycling, running and Adventure Boot Camp will be more rewarding but there are certain times when the body may become stressed and abused from the impact, strain and conditions of exercise. Overuse injuries occur to every person in different circumstances. While an office worker may develop a repetitive strain injury such as carpel tunnel syndrome or weakened eyesight from staring at a computer, an active person faces different problems in the form of shin splints, compartment syndrome, tennis elbow or other overuse injuries. The traditional treatment is known by the popular RICE acronym and stands for rest, ice, compression and elevation.
My overuse injury as a trainer turned out to be the weakening of my vocal cords from shouting my way through spinning classes without the assistance of a microphone, Boot Camp drills in the wind and the continuous chatter that flows from my mouth. Being very similar to any other overuse injury, I was frustrated as I could not rest my strained vocal cords as people rely on my instructions and I was astonished to find that I had taken my words for granted when I was able to speak freely without coughing or choking on my words. My whole existence depends on the advice, instructions and words of wisdom. I tried to rest my voice by avoiding friends, night time outings and smoke but it turned out to be very difficult. In many cases the onset of pain or stress is the body’s way of begging for a break and it should be given a rest period to recover from the physical demands of daily life placed on the muscles. Losing my voice could have been a result of an incessant talking or the strain from shouting to my friends on a rare Friday night club party. Any injury such as shin splints could be caused from too much exercise in the long term (such as running long distances on a daily basis without having time to rest) or trying to achieve too much in a short period of time (such as running a half marathon without any training runs or trying to keep up with a fellow camper who has completed nine camps to your one)…
When my campers ask for advice about shin splints, knee problems and back pain, I usually recommend the following information and I hope that they can hear my whispers and try the following preventions:
• Alternate ice packs with heat every five minutes or so to relax the muscle and reduce inflammation.
• Take a warm bath with a muscle relaxant such as Arnica to soothe stressed muscles.
• Go for regular massages to erase tension and keep the muscles functioning properly.
• Have at least one rest day per week where the most strenuous exercise is walking from the television to the kitchen or walking from the car to the mall.
• Find out what is causing the pain and treat the cause, not the symptoms. If back pain keeps reoccurring after abdominal exercise, do not avoid the crunches, sit ups and planks completely. Ask your Adventure Boot Camp trainer to show you proper technique or attend some Pilates classes.
Luckily, I can still write articles without a voice to get my opinions across to others and spare my throat some pain, so while you are injured, research different methods to deal with the overuse injury and prevent it from happening again. Find alternative forms of exercise that will not strain your body or strengthen other muscles that will prevent strain from being put on the one muscle that keeps getting hurt.
Apart from the fantastic benefits of exercise such as stronger muscles, easier completion of daily tasks, happy hormones in the form of endorphins and the general wellbeing that comes with an active lifestyle, there are certain potential dangers.
A life filled with cycling, running and Adventure Boot Camp will be more rewarding but there are certain times when the body may become stressed and abused from the impact, strain and conditions of exercise. Overuse injuries occur to every person in different circumstances. While an office worker may develop a repetitive strain injury such as carpel tunnel syndrome or weakened eyesight from staring at a computer, an active person faces different problems in the form of shin splints, compartment syndrome, tennis elbow or other overuse injuries. The traditional treatment is known by the popular RICE acronym and stands for rest, ice, compression and elevation.
My overuse injury as a trainer turned out to be the weakening of my vocal cords from shouting my way through spinning classes without the assistance of a microphone, Boot Camp drills in the wind and the continuous chatter that flows from my mouth. Being very similar to any other overuse injury, I was frustrated as I could not rest my strained vocal cords as people rely on my instructions and I was astonished to find that I had taken my words for granted when I was able to speak freely without coughing or choking on my words. My whole existence depends on the advice, instructions and words of wisdom. I tried to rest my voice by avoiding friends, night time outings and smoke but it turned out to be very difficult. In many cases the onset of pain or stress is the body’s way of begging for a break and it should be given a rest period to recover from the physical demands of daily life placed on the muscles. Losing my voice could have been a result of an incessant talking or the strain from shouting to my friends on a rare Friday night club party. Any injury such as shin splints could be caused from too much exercise in the long term (such as running long distances on a daily basis without having time to rest) or trying to achieve too much in a short period of time (such as running a half marathon without any training runs or trying to keep up with a fellow camper who has completed nine camps to your one)…
When my campers ask for advice about shin splints, knee problems and back pain, I usually recommend the following information and I hope that they can hear my whispers and try the following preventions:
• Alternate ice packs with heat every five minutes or so to relax the muscle and reduce inflammation.
• Take a warm bath with a muscle relaxant such as Arnica to soothe stressed muscles.
• Go for regular massages to erase tension and keep the muscles functioning properly.
• Have at least one rest day per week where the most strenuous exercise is walking from the television to the kitchen or walking from the car to the mall.
• Find out what is causing the pain and treat the cause, not the symptoms. If back pain keeps reoccurring after abdominal exercise, do not avoid the crunches, sit ups and planks completely. Ask your Adventure Boot Camp trainer to show you proper technique or attend some Pilates classes.
Luckily, I can still write articles without a voice to get my opinions across to others and spare my throat some pain, so while you are injured, research different methods to deal with the overuse injury and prevent it from happening again. Find alternative forms of exercise that will not strain your body or strengthen other muscles that will prevent strain from being put on the one muscle that keeps getting hurt.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Leeway Lean
When the burger joint knows your name and order by the sound of your voice as soon as you call them and you know their personal stories, it is time to make a few adjustments to your eating plan.
The only time I “dye-it” is when my hair changes colour. Any educated person knows that a diet is a short-term fad that leads to a long-term effect that is physically, mentally and socially detrimental.
Eating plans become part of a balanced lifestyle while eating disorders leave physical and psychological imbalances in most cases.
I live alone, do not cook and I enjoy junk food. While my exercise routine is regular and stable, eating patterns are governed by time, cravings and budget.
I want to lose the extra fat that no amount of exercise can remove from my active body. I’m training for a half marathon and the only kilos I can afford to add should be to my mileage, not my midline.
My main problem involves balance. I’m out of balance when I run, placing more emphasis on one side of my body to do all the work. When it comes to eating, my impression of a balanced diet involves having some form of food in each hand. Coffee and muffin, beer and snack, chocolate and anything else in my right hand. I also make the mistake of trying to alter the balance by putting a book or magazine in the other hand and when I’ve finished the chapter, a packet of chips has also disappeared!
My conclusion is that most eating “sins” can be controlled by the mind and I’ve formulated these tips to reduce consumption:
Buy deep, narrow cookie jars and buy small packets of cookies – this will ensure that you cannot reach your favourite biscuits once you’ve eaten the top layer.
Never eat alone – always make eating a social occasion. This has a dual purpose: avoidance of messy fast foods such as pizza and burgers and eating more slowly (like the experts recommend) while chatting as it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.
Take a doggie bag when dining out – this can lead to less hassle to make lunch for work the next day or the car guard at the restaurant can get an edible tip.
Finish chewing before taking the next bite. Think of exercising those jaw muscles optimally by chewing as slowly as possible. If only spot fat reduction were possible I would be gaunt from chewing carefully and talking a lot.
Rather have desert with lunch than with supper to give it more time to settle. Have a low calorie drink for desert instead of cake.
Include protein in all meals to improve satiety and feel fuller.
Cheat foods should not be lying around the house calling your name whenever you are too lazy to cook.
Take the fast food outlets and delivery services off your speed dial and remove the menus from your fridge.
Drink water with meals and avoid carbonated drinks and alcohol.
Be conscious of everything that you put in your mouth. Remember when you cheat and whether it was worth the empty calories that must now be exercised away.
Changing your lifestyle should not be drastic or compulsive, but being aware of food choices and snacking improves eating habits and leads to a better balance with both hands raised in victory after achieving your goal.
The only time I “dye-it” is when my hair changes colour. Any educated person knows that a diet is a short-term fad that leads to a long-term effect that is physically, mentally and socially detrimental.
Eating plans become part of a balanced lifestyle while eating disorders leave physical and psychological imbalances in most cases.
I live alone, do not cook and I enjoy junk food. While my exercise routine is regular and stable, eating patterns are governed by time, cravings and budget.
I want to lose the extra fat that no amount of exercise can remove from my active body. I’m training for a half marathon and the only kilos I can afford to add should be to my mileage, not my midline.
My main problem involves balance. I’m out of balance when I run, placing more emphasis on one side of my body to do all the work. When it comes to eating, my impression of a balanced diet involves having some form of food in each hand. Coffee and muffin, beer and snack, chocolate and anything else in my right hand. I also make the mistake of trying to alter the balance by putting a book or magazine in the other hand and when I’ve finished the chapter, a packet of chips has also disappeared!
My conclusion is that most eating “sins” can be controlled by the mind and I’ve formulated these tips to reduce consumption:
Buy deep, narrow cookie jars and buy small packets of cookies – this will ensure that you cannot reach your favourite biscuits once you’ve eaten the top layer.
Never eat alone – always make eating a social occasion. This has a dual purpose: avoidance of messy fast foods such as pizza and burgers and eating more slowly (like the experts recommend) while chatting as it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.
Take a doggie bag when dining out – this can lead to less hassle to make lunch for work the next day or the car guard at the restaurant can get an edible tip.
Finish chewing before taking the next bite. Think of exercising those jaw muscles optimally by chewing as slowly as possible. If only spot fat reduction were possible I would be gaunt from chewing carefully and talking a lot.
Rather have desert with lunch than with supper to give it more time to settle. Have a low calorie drink for desert instead of cake.
Include protein in all meals to improve satiety and feel fuller.
Cheat foods should not be lying around the house calling your name whenever you are too lazy to cook.
Take the fast food outlets and delivery services off your speed dial and remove the menus from your fridge.
Drink water with meals and avoid carbonated drinks and alcohol.
Be conscious of everything that you put in your mouth. Remember when you cheat and whether it was worth the empty calories that must now be exercised away.
Changing your lifestyle should not be drastic or compulsive, but being aware of food choices and snacking improves eating habits and leads to a better balance with both hands raised in victory after achieving your goal.
Comebacks to cliches
COMEBACKS TO CLICHES
Being single, social and self-employed, I am the target of many questions about my private life that strangers and relatives feel obliged to ask. These questions seldom vary, yet they always catch me off guard and I only manage a witty comeback about 24-hours later. I will be sitting on the loo when the idea of answering an invasive question with another question will hit me, but I have nobody to test my rebuttal on. So when I get asked why I am single, I can turn the question around with a simple “Why do you think I can’t land a man?”. This could lead to much blushing and stuttering from the other person and shift the attention away from my marital status. My brainwave is too late this time, as the person who asked the question is asking another single person who is blushing and stuttering. This made me adopt the Brownie motto and “be prepared”, so I have listed a few potential answers to awkward questions that I can choose depending on the interrogator (friends, family, fellowships or functions) and my mood (“mellow or miaaw” so it depends on care or claws).
Why are you still single?
• My other personality does not have the same taste as me. My other personality has a fettish for losers, while I am more of a gold-digger.
• Is there a cure for this infliction? Being single sounds like an incurable disease.
• Everybody I like is married and polygamy is not legal.
• I like the younger partner and I am waiting for him to finish school.
• My left hand is missing a finger or allergic to gold and silver jewelry. No ring finger, so no man.
• Because I can be single. It’s fun. Why aren’t you single?
• I can afford my lifestyle alone.
• So that I can buy property, cars and food without having to share.
• It is more fun at New Year’s.
• I can take a different date wherever I go.
When are you having children?
• There are enough in the world – overpopulation is a real problem.
• I remember to take my pill.
• My womb says no.
• My biological clock is in another time zone.
• I am waiting to be a MILF or cougar.
• I am waiting until I am older so my kids can be raised with my in an old age home.
• When I find a man.
I thought that these thoughtless questions would stop once I got rid of the single syndrome, but then the probing gets more personal.
Are you trying to have kids?
• We try nightly in all positions, but no luck yet. Can you help us?
• Are you asking how often we have sex?
• We want to have a social life as much as possible without noise.
• Why have kids when I am married to one?
• We need to apply for a parenting license before we start trying?
• Are you volunteering to babysit?
These questions most often come from strangers who have no business asking about your sex life. I will use these answers and hope to never see them again. If you have been in this situation, remember NEVER to ask these things.
Being single, social and self-employed, I am the target of many questions about my private life that strangers and relatives feel obliged to ask. These questions seldom vary, yet they always catch me off guard and I only manage a witty comeback about 24-hours later. I will be sitting on the loo when the idea of answering an invasive question with another question will hit me, but I have nobody to test my rebuttal on. So when I get asked why I am single, I can turn the question around with a simple “Why do you think I can’t land a man?”. This could lead to much blushing and stuttering from the other person and shift the attention away from my marital status. My brainwave is too late this time, as the person who asked the question is asking another single person who is blushing and stuttering. This made me adopt the Brownie motto and “be prepared”, so I have listed a few potential answers to awkward questions that I can choose depending on the interrogator (friends, family, fellowships or functions) and my mood (“mellow or miaaw” so it depends on care or claws).
Why are you still single?
• My other personality does not have the same taste as me. My other personality has a fettish for losers, while I am more of a gold-digger.
• Is there a cure for this infliction? Being single sounds like an incurable disease.
• Everybody I like is married and polygamy is not legal.
• I like the younger partner and I am waiting for him to finish school.
• My left hand is missing a finger or allergic to gold and silver jewelry. No ring finger, so no man.
• Because I can be single. It’s fun. Why aren’t you single?
• I can afford my lifestyle alone.
• So that I can buy property, cars and food without having to share.
• It is more fun at New Year’s.
• I can take a different date wherever I go.
When are you having children?
• There are enough in the world – overpopulation is a real problem.
• I remember to take my pill.
• My womb says no.
• My biological clock is in another time zone.
• I am waiting to be a MILF or cougar.
• I am waiting until I am older so my kids can be raised with my in an old age home.
• When I find a man.
I thought that these thoughtless questions would stop once I got rid of the single syndrome, but then the probing gets more personal.
Are you trying to have kids?
• We try nightly in all positions, but no luck yet. Can you help us?
• Are you asking how often we have sex?
• We want to have a social life as much as possible without noise.
• Why have kids when I am married to one?
• We need to apply for a parenting license before we start trying?
• Are you volunteering to babysit?
These questions most often come from strangers who have no business asking about your sex life. I will use these answers and hope to never see them again. If you have been in this situation, remember NEVER to ask these things.
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