The Next Hundred Pounds

KNEED TO KNOW

I can't believe it's been nearly a month since I posted --- this has got to be the longest "time off" I've ever taken for this blog. However, things have been INSANE. A quick catch-up:

Immediately after Thanksgiving, I traveled the short distance to San Antonio to rehearse and give three performances of Messiah with the San Antonio Symphony --- such fun! We stayed in the gorgeous and historic Gunter Hotel, and performed in three different churches around the city.

 

With the cast outside Augie's Smokehouse. R-L: Baritone John Buffet, Soprano Kathryn Mueller, Maestro Patrick Dupre Quigley, and me!

 

The day after I got home, I flew to New York for several auditions. I got home around midnight on December 7 and on December 9, made a quickie trip to Madison, Wisconsin for another audition. I was barely there, but the little bit I saw was beautiful. It snowed just enough to be pretty, and I was staying on the square, right across from the lovely Capital Building.

 

Wisconsin State Capital in the snow.

 

This was a very brief trip --- I wasn't even there 24 hours! And I barely had time to kiss my husband and cuddle my puppies before I was on the way back to New York for more auditions.  At least I got to hang out with some friends and enjoy cooking fabulous (though not really healthy ... umm, not healthy AT ALL) dinners. And of course, New York is beautiful at Christmas.

 

Love the changing lights at Columbus Circle!

I got home on Saturday afternoon, and that evening my Spotlight on Opera troupe had their Christmas performance, A Rose in Winter. I was exhausted, but there wasn't that much setup, and I thought I could relax and enjoy the show. NOT. A lady in the audience, who turned out to be the mother of one of my singers, had a medical emergency. She's fine, thank goodness, but I spent the entire second half  helping her and the paramedics. I needed my own blood pressure checked after that episode! We had another show the next day, which fortunately went off with no greater hitch than a traffic accident that made half the cast a little late.

And this morning, Monday, I had an MRI.

In my previous post, I discussed the rather painful cortisone shot I had for my knee. Long story short, it didn't help that much, so an MRI was the next step, and I'll get results on Thursday. I may need surgery, but the good news is it will most likely be arthoscopic, with relatively little pain and a short recovery. In the meantime, to make things even happier, I suspect I broke my left little toe whilst running around New York.  Having broken the right one a couple of years ago, I now have a matched pair. Hurrah.

What all this means in terms of health and fitness is that November and the better part of December have been DISMAL. I have been so busy, exhausted, and frankly not feeling all that well that any attempts at working out have been minimal and quite honestly, I haven't done all that well with eating, either. I feel fat, sluggish, and unhappy about all of that. But I also feel overwhelmed. So, one day at a time. I need to resolve this knee issue and get some rest, so I can marshal my forces and get back to the work of getting and staying fit.

The coming year is a good one, gig-wise. Currently, my engagements will keep me busy from the end of January through May, and there are some very exciting things on for the summer that I can't talk about yet. (Keep your fingers crossed). But all of this means I need to work out, watch what I eat, and get as healthy and fit as I can. And I will.  :)

NO TEARS FOR TWINKIES

You may have no choice but to put down the Twinkie.

The whole world probably knows by now that Hostess Cupcakes,makers of snacks such as Twinkies, Ding-Dongs, Ho-Hos, and Wonder Bread, is going out of business. The 82-year-old company is based in Irving, TX (not too far from Dallas), and has 33 plants, all of which have been closed. 18,500 employees are losing their jobs (why do these things always seem to happen right before the holidays)?

One of the reasons the company is closing is because, according to Reuters,  striking bakery workers refused to agree to an 8% paycut, a 20% increase in healthcare costs, closure of a number of plants, and other changes to benefits. For those 18,500 employees, I feel bad. I hope they find new, better-paying work soon.

But for the death of the Twinkie and the other nutritionally disasatrous junk food Hostess sells, I can't be sorry. Sure, a lot of people have nostalgia associated with the brand name junk that brightened up their school lunch boxes. I certainly ate my share of Twinkies, Ding-Dongs, and Little Debbie snack cakes (which were cheaper than Hostess, as I recall) as a kid. But now, more educated about nutrition, I'm happy to see a junk food brand bite the dust.

Amid all the political arguments about health care, insurance, the economy, and America going to hell in a handbasket, we should rejoice to see the end of sugar and chemical laden crap food. We should continue to press for more education about nutrition, and better availability of real food, especially in schools.

As I sit here and plan my decadent Thanksgiving menu, I think back to the holidays of my childhood, when quite a lot of our food came out of cans and packages. No wonder I didn't like veggies much. They were nasty. Gray, limp asparagus and peas boiled to mush and poured out of a watery can bear no resemblance to their crisp, green, flavorful origins. Sure, I liked green beans, as long as they were drenched in Cream of Mushroom soup topped with a breaded, fried onion concoction or thousands of calories' worth of crumbled up Ritz crackers. Naturally sweet yams, soaked in syrup in their can and topped with more sugar in the form of marshmallows. Nobody really liked the jellied cranberry sauce, squeezed from its can and still bearing the ridges of its container, but we had it anyway, because it was traditional. I never liked mincemeat pie, either, until I made it from scratch and realized that, far from a black cube of unrecognizable stuff which might or might not have contained actual meat, REAL mincemeat is a delicious combination of fruit and spices, and reasonably healthy, too, especially if you cut all but a tiny bit of the sugar the recipes call for.

If I --- a child who grew up on the SAD diet, eating grilled sandwiches made of the cheapest white bread and hunks of Velveeta cheese, who thought Spam was a treat, with a Maryland Club coffee can full of bacon grease on the stove which was used to cook whenever we didn't use Crisco --- if I can re-educate my palate to despise the taste of artificial ingredients and find food that is as close to the way Mother Nature made it the most delicious, anybody can, really. And the more I learn, the more I believe it's not only the healthiest thing, but also the most economically sound and best for the environment and our country sort of thing to do.

So as I plan that decadent Thanksgiving menu, except for a few choice items, I'm taking out extra sugar and substituting lower or no fat products (like yogurt or almond milk for dairy, and apples or bananas for fat in baked goods). I'm experimenting with gluten-free alternatives, since my mom has recently decided to try gluten-free eating and gluten is the latest, greatest nutritional demon. All my decadences will be made from scratch, using high quality ingredients -- no preservatives, artificial colors, or things I can't pronounce. And even if I didn't enjoy cooking gourmet meals from scratch, even if I wanted a much quicker, easier, less messy celebration, it could be easily done without involving chemical shortcuts. Roasting veggies and a turkey, throwing together a great fall salad, whipping up some biscuits ... easy peasy. Even a simple pumpkin pie is actually a pretty healthy and extremely easy dessert!

No plant-manufactured assembly-line snack cakes have passed my threshold or my lips for more years than I can remember, nor shall they. But  if you're a diehard Twinkie fan, don't despair. Someone is sure to buy up the best-selling brands and continue making them. And even if the brand does become extinct, what with all the chemicals and preservatives in Twinkies, you can hoard whatever you can find on the shelves now --- they'll last you the rest of your life, easy. Heck, if you buy enough, your grandkids will be able to eat them.

Of course, I'm hoping your grandkids will have better taste. ;)

IS ORGANIC REALLY BETTER?

 NPR recently reported on a new study from Stanford, published in the Annals of Internal Medicine , which found that there is little evidence that organic food is actually better for you than the average pesticide-laden produce you pick up at the grocery store. The specific conclusion of the study is "The published literature lacks strong evidence that organic foods are significantly more nutritious than conventional foods. Consumption of organic foods may reduce exposure to pesticide residues and antibiotic-resistant bacteria."

People have different reasons for eating organic. I don't eat organic because it might be more nutritious. I eat it because it is not exposed to pesticides and because organic farming techniques are significantly kinder to the environment  and animals than Big Agra-style farming. It also tastes a lot better than produce you get in the grocery store, especially if you buy it from a farmer's market. NPR's article does acknowledge the environmental angle, and also acknowledges that the study in question doesn't look at the longterm or subtler effects that conventional food may have on the body.

Also, the study found that most convential food does not exceed the "allowable limits" of pesticide residue as decreed by the government. Which comforts me not at all, because I don't trust the heavily lobbyist-influenced FDA and USDA to have my best interests at heart. They certainly don't have the best interests of small farmers. The incident linked to smacks of jack-booted thuggery, if you ask me. Toe the company line set by Big Agra or suffer.

But getting back to organics ... is the science behind them, or isn't it? My own admittedly unscientific opinion is that this study is incomplete. I think there are many other factors that come into play, and that the lack of evidence in support of organics' health benefits may simply have to do with them not being sufficiently investigated. Or maybe I'm wrong, and it's just fine to ingest small quantities of bug poison and genetically modified crops, like our government says it is.

The comments section following the NPR article is well worth reading, though. One commenter suggests that when considering this study's validity, we should "follow the money". Stanford, she claims, has received a great deal of money from the Gates Foundation (whose CEO is also on the Stanford Board of Trustees), which in turn has partnered with Monsanto on billion dollar projects. 

Organics are  big business now, but not all organics are created equal. Sure, you can buy organics at Walmart, cheaper than at Whole Foods! But they come from China and other distant places, where production processes are suspect. There's not much point in eating organic food that has to be shipped in from across the planet. Better to buy local, if you can. It's in season and usually tastes better.

Speaking of which, there's a relatively new small farmer's market in my vicinity. I went there last week with my mom and sister-in-law. My haul included some gorgeous oak leaf lettuce (a new-to-me variety, buttery and tender), Boston lettuce, beautiful organic red bell peppers, sweet potatos, and homemade paranthas from a really nice Indian man who was very appreciative of our business. The paranthas went with me to a party that evening, where they were a HUGE hit.

There were some organics, not as many as I would like; but then I am more likely to buy conventional produce at a farmer's market, after speaking to the farmer about their growing practices. Many haven't taken the steps to be certified organic, which I understand is an expensive and time-consuming process; but they don't use pesticides anyway, or use them minimally. And locally grown food is always more environmentally friendly.

And while we're chatting about the health benefits and safety of certain types of food, a couple of weeks ago I heard a very interesting report, also on NPR,  about expired food. Apparently, there are auctions of it, and you can get cases of expired but still edible food for a fraction of the original cost. Of course, this is mostly the typical highly processed stuff you find in inner aisles of the average American grocery store, but if you've gotta get your Cheeto fix and you're not worried about the expiration date, this might be the way to go.

I found it quite informative because like most people, I didn't realize that the so-called expiration dates are not legally required (except for baby formula) and that they are more or less a marketing tool. I confess that I have been known to eat expired food. In the comments section following the NPR article, there's a remark by a chef and former dairy processor  who says, "The rule of thumb that I have always lived by, in good health, is: If you aren't sure whether it is bad, eat it; rotten food is obviously rotten... Please believe me, you will not mistake the taste or smell of rotten food."

Huffpost also has an interesting little article on how long past the sell-by date it's safe to eat certain foods. And here's a whole website devoted to the question of whether you can safely eat your expired can of tuna without inspiring a lengthy worship session at the Church of the Porcelein God.

Bottom line: like anything else, you have to educate yourself about food and nutrition. That includes where your food is coming from. The most recent study is something to keep an eye on, but ultimately it doesn't change my mind.  I'll keep eating organic.

FIRST, DO NO HARM ... UNLESS YOU'RE FAT

Dr. Helen Carter doesn't want to treat fat people. Fat people, she says, are a risk to her staff -- she claims, without citing specifics, that several of them were injured by obese patients. I have to wonder how this happened. Having been obese for most of my adult life, I somehow managed to get through the years without once injuring anybody with my fatness, and I have never had a mishap in the doctor's office. What were these people doing? Having wheelchair races down the hall? Slugfest over doughnuts in the lounge? Leaping on and off the exam table in a reckless manner? Heck, if they can do that, they must not be that fat.

I'm not saying it can't happen. If a heavy person accidentally steps on someone's foot, that's going to hurt a lot and maybe even break it. Maybe you could bump into someone or fall and they could be hurt trying to catch you.  I don't know. These things could happen to people who weren't obese as well.

Dr. Carter also doesn't want to treat fat people because her office does not have the "resources" required. Again, I'm curious. What special resources are required to treat fat me for bronchitis? My GP has managed to handle my big ass for years, without breaking out a cattle scale or an extra large blood pressure band. Perhaps this was exceptional. But Dr. Carter's office can't handle the special needs incurred by Fat Person Flu, so she recommends they head on down to the obesity clinic down the street.

Because, you know, when you're fat, ALL your health concerns are related to your obsesity, whether or not "normal" people have the same issues. Got a cold? It's a Fat Cold. Diabetes? Everybody knows only fat people get diabetes. Who knows, maybe it's just that your fat cooties might spread to "normal" people in the waiting room, and pretty soon Dr. C. would have to spring for chairs without arm rests or something.

By the way, in case you're interested, Dr.  Carter's cutoff is 200 pounds. Do you suppose she's installed a scale at the waiting room door? One where you have to step on it before you go in, and if you 're over the mark, a big buzzer goes off and you're not allowed to enter? I imagine they'd still bill you for the office visit, though. Maybe even a little extra, for the trouble of dealing with your fatness.

But it's all good, according to the compassionate Dr. Carter, because the fat folks she's treated for a while are "grandfathered in". She'll tolerate the fatties she already knows; she's only turning down new fatties. And good news ! At least two of them have been "motivated" by her refusal to provide their fatt butts with medical care! Can you imagine the low self-esteem you've got to have to want to lose weight so you can be good enough to be seen by a doctor who disdains you?

I would be motivated by Dr. Carter's attitude, as well. I'd be motivated to tell her she's a disgusting bigot and take my fat dollars to a doctor who had the "resources" to treat me. Resources like respect, compassion, and the honest desire to heal, even when the patient wasn't ideal.

This sort of discrimination isn't illegal, either. According to the American Medical Association, doctors can choose who they want to treat. I wonder if that means racist doctors can turn away  people who are the wrong color. We already know religious doctors can refuse treatment if it goes against their personal beliefs. Talk about specialists! "Will only treat white pro-lifers with a BMI of 24.9 or less."

By the way, while Dr. Carter's attitude may be reprehensible, it's not uncommon. I read a number of medical blogs, out of interest, and it's quite clear that many  --- not all, but many --- medical personnel have a special disgust for the morbidly obese. Granted, ER personnel see a lot of the worst of the worst, including people who haven't cared for themselves or their personal hygeine, and that has to be really gross to deal with. But it saddens me to see how disrespectful they can be.

Honestly, a medical office is the last place on earth anyone should have to deal with fat hate, and yet I'd be surprised if there were any overweight person who hadn't been fat shamed at the doctor's. I certainly have been. And maybe that's why Dr. Carter's soft-spoken ("See? I'm not mean! I'm being professional!")  stance is so very offensive to me.

Everyone deserves health care. Even if you've screwed yourself up past the point of no return. We're supposed to be an enlightened, compassionate, modern society. We don't kill deformed children at birth, we don't put our elders out in the desert to die, we don't leave the weak and dying behind (or at least, we're not supposed to).

Everyone deserves basic respect and courtesy. I'm fat, so what?  You can see one of my major flaws and that makes it easy for you to judge me. But you have plenty of flaws yourself. Maybe you're a cheating on your wife or your income taxes. Maybe you bullied people in high school. Maybe you're a drunk, or a bigot. Hell, my kindly old dentist turned out to be a freakin' pedophile.

You don't have to take it. Look, we all want to be the best that we can be. I struggle daily with my weight, with my fitness, with my thought patterns about all of the above. I not a lazy or undisciplined person. I don't like having these issues, but neither am I ashamed of them. And I won't stand for being disrespected by the likes of Dr. Helen Carter. Not that she'd care, as my fat opinion probably means nothing to her; but I know that I don't have to smile and nod and pretend it's okay for people like her to discriminate against me because of my weight any more than I have to put up with crap from ignorant bigots because I happen to be a woman.

Rant over. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a shower. My fat butt and I just got through with our daily workout and green protein smoothie for lunch. I just hope my "normal person" bathroom has the resources to deal with me.

WHO TAKES THE GOLD FOR T&A AND HAIR?

So, I've been out for a while (again), the spammers are starting to heat up the comments section with their thinly-disguised, misspelled, pathetic attempts to sell their latest dose of snakeoil, and I was thinking it was time to do a "why I've hardly blogged for the past four weeks" post. Don't worry (I know you were waiting with bated breath), I'll get to that. But first, there will be some ranting, because there is something I am REALLY pissed off about.

The Olympics. And specifically, what some people are saying about the women athletes. You know, the women athletes like the US Women's Gymnastics Team, who took the gold with top scores in three out of four events (floor, vault, and beam) and yet are being sniped at for their hairstyles, their uniforms, and --- probably the worst yet --- being "mean girls". Or how about the focus on the beach volleyball players' magnificently toned T&A? There are entire websites dedicated to this. Bravo to Nate Jones for calling the photogs on their ass-obsession.

Possibly the most egregious criticism of women athletes comes from a Turkish journalist --- not exactly a prime specimen of beautiful manhood himself --- who saw fit to complain in print about how the  Olympics are "killing womanhood" by forcing female athletes to make themselves look like men in order to be successful. Because, of course, women are supposed to be soft and round and big-boobed;  muscules are for men. Because, of course, this backward idjit has never heard of a sports bra and is unfamiliar with the concept that a woman might not look like a Hollywood starlet when she's  running a marathon or lifting weights or WINNING A FUCKING GOLD MEDAL. 'Scuse my French.

Because, of course, how a woman looks always, ALWAYS is more important than her achievements. And if she doesn't measure up to ANY other human being's personal ideal of beauty and femininity, she is, on some level, a failure. A woman's appearance is ALWAYS a valid topic of conversation.

And there is no doubt in my mind that this attitude contributes to our personal feelings about our bodies, about our own self-directed fat hate and unrealistic self-criticism. There's no doubt that it gets in the way of our success. Part of it is simple reality --- I won't be hired to play certain roles, because I don't physically fit the conventional idea of what those roles embody --- and part of it is the kind of reality that deserves to be called out, each and every time it happens.

I can't control what kinds of roles I'm marketable for, but I can call out sexism when I hear it and see it. I can refuse to dis other women's bodies or even to let seemingly harmless statements such as, "Wow! You look great!" be the first thing that comes out of my mouth when I greet a female friend. It's not easy. We're so conditioned to do it, and yet we MUST struggle against these insidious forms of sexism for the sake of our daughters, nieces, young friends, and all the women who come after us, so they can live in a world where they are NOT judged first and foremost on their appearances. Where their own personal gold medals count more than what their hair looked like the day they won them.

On a personal level, relating back to my own health and fitness, part of the daily struggle is learning to be kinder to myself and to find the important balance between what I can and should be doing for myself, and pushing so hard that it becomes impossible to achieve that. But that's a topic for another day.

So, as much as I applaud Gabby Douglas for the hard work and discipline and long hours that led her her gold medals, I applaud her even more for telling the media, "I'm like, `I just made history and people are focused on my hair?' ... Nothing is going to change. You might as well just stop talking about it."

You go, young lady. You just go.

MY BODY IS PUBLIC PROPERTY

Earlier this week, a friend of mine --- a petite, lovely blonde --- was walking her dogs down her own street when a couple of construction workers took it upon themselves to reinforce negative stereotypes of their profession. What exactly was said is lost to the annals of time and translation, but it was sufficient that, when she got home and told her fiance, he was mad enough to go out there and open up a can of verbal whupass. This is a fellow opera singer who recently enjoyed a huge success playing the role of a rapist/murderer on death row, and put in some serious gym time getting cut in preparation for that role. Believe me when I say you wouldn't like to be on the receiving end of his righteous anger. Apparently he scared those two morons so badly that they left the job site, and hopefully they'll think twice about speaking disrespectfully to women minding their own business.

I was on my own yesterday when I went for smoothie at Starbuck's between Afro Belly Samba class and TRX Suspension. I am not a cute, petite young blonde. No makeup, hair in a messy ponytail covered with one of my famous hippie bandanas, sweat-soaked tank top over my shorts and sports bra --- not the vision of glamour. And yet a couple of guys riding past on their bikes saw fit to comment of the quality of my gluteus maximus.

As catcalls go, it was pretty tame, unoriginal, and, well, complimentary. I wasn't particularly offended by it, and in fact if a more unsettling incident hadn't just happened to my friend, I probably wouldn't have thought much of it. Hell, I might as well admit that I was a little flattered. My behind is generous but it's also shapely, thanks to all those squats and lunges and kickboxing. Thanks for noticing, anonymous guys on bikes.

But then, there's the conflict. Because it's inherently disrespectful to remark on a strange woman's body, especially in public. I can't help but differentiate between guys like these, who weren't rude or threatening, and in fact probably thought they were giving me a compliment. They didn't do it to hurt me or make me feel bad, so I can sort of give them a pass. My friend's construction workers are a different story --- they made her feel icky and unsafe in her own neighborhood. 

It got me thinking.

I don't know a single woman who has never been sexually harassed and/or assaulted. The severity ranges from mild (catcalls, brushing up against you, obscene gestures, ass-grabbing) to severe (sexual bullying in professional environments, rape), but every woman I know has experienced it. I once saw it happen to my mother, with her three young kids standing right there. I've had my share of catcalls, unwelcome propositions, and even what I would call low-level sexual assault. (Once, an employer cornered me in a dark place and forced me up against the wall. He thought he was being playful and trying to steal a kiss; I thought I'd tell his wife, and told him so, which more or less put an end to it, but at the time I was pretty scared. Another time, there was a guy behind me on a crowded subway and ... well, let's just say, thank God I was wearing a raincoat). It doesn't matter how you're dressed, what you look like, how old you are ... some guy somewhere is going to feel justified in commenting on your body. Some guy somewhere is going to think it's just fine to use you like one of the ratty old porn rags he's got stashed beneath his mattress.

It's pervasive in our society, along with the general focus on the importance of how women look. Any public female figure, no matter what her accomplishments, is subjected to minute criticisms of her dress, hairstyle, figure, and looks. And if they are found lacking, she is severely criticized for it. It's as if whatever else she has accomplished in her life, she's failed in a fundamental way by not meeting the approval of the anonymous masses. If you're a woman, and you're not pretty, anything you do and say can be dismissed with scorn.

And if you *are* pretty, you are public property; even more so than the average woman. Your looks are sure to be judged, commented on both publicly and behind your back. You may even have a harder time being taken seriously, especially when you're young (witness my sister-in-law, a petite, slight, pretty young woman who could not get banks to take her seriously enough to lend her the money to start a business ... a business which is now thriving, with two locations and many employees). And when those looks start to go, as they inevitably must, there will be more comments. Because while older men can be distinguished, older women can only be "cougars".

There's certainly nothing wrong with being proud of your body, especially a body you work hard to make fit, healthy, and attractive; a body that is strong and able to do what you ask it to do. And there's nothing wrong with taking pleasure in compliments. I'm not going to jump down the throat of a guy who whistles at me, or tells me I have a nice ass ... it's all in the intention and delivery. At the same time, if this milder behavior is acceptable, where's the cutoff where it becomes unacceptable? And however harmless it may be as an individual incident, how much does it contribute to the overall culture that allows women to be objectified? That allows Draconian laws meant to control women's bodies and actions to continue to be proposed and passed --- not in countries where women are traditionally little more than the property of men, such as Iran and  Afghanistan and Saudi Arabia, but right here in our own country? In 2012, we find ourselves fighting the same battles our mothers have been fighting for centuries, for control and ownership of our own bodies. For equal pay for equal work.  For the right to walk down our very own streets without being verbally abused (or worse) by strangers.

All those little things --- wolf whistles, commenting negatively on other women's bodies, not calling people on it when they do it in front of you --- they add up. They contribute to the culture that allows and even encourages abusive behavior. So, maybe I was wrong to let that "nice ass" comment slide. And my friend was right to tear those two lewd yahoos a new one --- although unfortunately, I doubt they took the lesson they needed from it.

What do you think?

*Edited to add this link to a very good and well-written article on street harassment. Julia Gazdag says it much better than I did. Also, be sure to watch the video at the end.

BURNED

This morning, after days of waiting and praying, we got word that my friends Lisa and Jamie's house burned to the ground in the Central Texas fires. They are among the "luckier " ones --- they had insurance, a friend got in past the barricades and rescued their pets and some valuables; they were traveling when it happened and already had some clothes and necessities packed. They have a place to stay and a lot of people who love them and will help take care of them.

It still sucks beyond any belief. I can sympathize but I cannot really fully grasp the horror. And there are so many, many others out there who have lost everything. This is a video showing the speed and voracity of these fires, especially in Monday's windy conditions. In fact, it shows the fire eating up Bastrop State Park (100 acres left out of 6000):

 

Some of my friends were fortunate; I've heard from at least two that their homes were spared. But over 1000 homes were taken in the Bastrop fires alone.

If you would like to help, here is a list of local places accepting donations of goods and money. Also, local musicians Will Taylor and Strings Attached are doing a benefit show this Saturday at the Nutty Brown Cafe. Here's information on that. Goods and cash donations are being accepted, and there will also be a silent auction. I've donated some private voice lessons and season tickets to Spotlight on Opera.

***

Over the last couple of days I got hit by some kind of bug that laid me low, pretty much sucking all my energy for anything other than basic household tasks. It meant skipping a couple of days of working out, but since this is a "rest" week for P90X, I don't feel too far behind.  On Monday I went to a beginning Ashtanga yoga class, and it was reasonably strenuous --- I certainly worked up a sweat and would not mind hitting this class regularly. I'm familiar with most of the asanas but you move through them much faster than I'm used to doing, and slightly differently. Ashtanga will certainly help you improve strength and flexibilty.

So Tuesday and Wednesday I was a big slug, but I'm doing better today, well enough to attend a pole dancing class with my sister-in-law at Inner Diva Studios. Now, I have a couple of girlfriends who do this fer realz, and they are in AMAZING shape. Real pole-dancing is extremely athletic and requires a great deal of upper body strength. And it's beautiful to watch. 

We certainly didn't do anything this advanced --- this was a beginning class --- but it was a lot of fun and I can see why it's so popular. First of all, the studio is ladies only. It's very cute and feminine, and sexy in a completely non-threatening way. No sleaze in sight. My only complaint, as a matter of fact, was the overuse of scented products (candles, potpourri, what have  you). They were trying to create a beautiful, feminine atmosphere but it was a little overpowering, and I'm particularly sensitive to odors.

Everyone was dressed in athletic gear, mostly yoga pants and t-shirts, and there were all body types. Our instructor was a cute, petite young lady named Brenna. This particular class was mostly comprised of dance moves (I would have liked a more comprehensive warm-up) and Brenna did a great job of breaking each one down. They ranged from easy to challenging, but nothing beginners, even the less coordinated among us, couldn't handle. We used our arms a lot and gave our calves a great workout, standing on our toes most of the time to simulate high heels. You also use a lot of core, pulling yourself up and around the pole and pushing up off the floor. I can see how, if you do this sort of thing regularly, it would be a great workout, although this particular class was not especially strenuous. However, it was fun, and something different, and I would be interested in trying it again, especially if there was one that was a little more geared towards working up a sweat.

My goal for the rest of the week is just to jump back in with the P90X. I need to be working a little harder, but this week it just hasn't been possible. Moving forward ... it will be.

PRAYERS FOR BASTROP

I was going to write and wish everyone a Happy Labor Day, but my heart is so heavy right now --- a great deal of Central Texas is going up in flames, thanks to the terrible drought conditions combined with gusty winds from Tropical Storm Lee. In Bastrop County, over half of the beautiful Bastrop State Park has burned; adjacent to it is the equally lovely Buscher State Park, and just a few miles away is one of our very favorite parks, McKinney Roughs. We've hiked all of these regularly and Bastrop is the site of my famous Death March. Worst of all, hundreds of homes have been lost. Two good friends have a home in one of the neighborhoods that has been evacuated; they just got home last night from an extended trip and were unable to return to their house. Thank goodness a friend got in and rescued their cats and some valuables. As of this writing, Lisa has reported that their house is still standing but the fire is half a mile away.  If you're the praying type, please pray for Lisa and Jamie, and all the families whose homes are destroyed or in danger. There are fires in several other Central Texas communities, including a neighborhood less than 15 miles away. The worst part is all this probably started because some idiot tossed a cigarette butt out the window.

Hiking at McKinney Roughs in Fall 2010

Hiking in Bastrop State Park, May 2010. Over half the park has now burned.

Buescher State Park, May 2010.

Ironically, it's beautiful weather today. For the first time in about two months the temperatures are NOT over 100; in fact it's 80 degrees with a nice breeze and beautiful sunshine --- typical Texas early fall weather. Labor Day is traditionally the Free Day of Yoga in  Austin, so my houseguest Nicholas and I took advantage of this with an Ashtanga class at the Yoga Room in Round Rock, not far from my house. Neither of us had ever done Ashtanga before, and it's challenging. I liked it but would want to take a beginner's workshop to get more familiar with the practice before I started a regular class. However, thanks to the P90X yoga I've been doing, I was able to keep up (they do vinyasas in Ashtanga, but they're a little different and move much faster), and left feeling very good. Anybody who thinks they can't get a workout doing yoga should try Ashtanga; but any form of yoga requires (and will help you build) core strength, strength of tendons, flexibility, breath control, and yes, muscle. It's a wonderful thing to do for your body and mind all on its own, and a great complement to any other physical activity you do.

I intended to write more today but it's hard to concentrate knowing friends' and neighbors' homes are in danger, and knowing of the terrible devastation to the wildlife and environment that is happening so close to home. Please keep Central Texas in your thoughts.

 

I MADE THE NEW YORK TIMES (AGAIN)!

Greetings from sunny, beautiful, COLD Minneapolis, where the current temperature is 4 degrees Fahrenheit. Remember how I teased last week about a Thing Which Could Not Be Said? Well, now it can: last week, during my trip to New York, once again David Frank of the New York Times followed me around with a camera and did a lovely follow-up report on the video he did back in June. David is a great guy, and I'm not just saying that because he did a really nice thing for me. He's fun and I bet he could tell some really good stories if he chose to do so.

He came to two of my coachings, filmed me jogging (confession time: that was TOTALLY staged for the camera, because there was a big snow storm the day before and a lot of the sidewalks weren't clear; plus, I didn't know how jogging in the cold was going to affect me, so I wasn't willing to take a chance when I had so much important singing going on). It was a big thrill for me to go down to be interviewed at the New York Times. David gave me a little tour of the news room. Unfortunately, I didn't get to meet Tara Parker Pope, writer of the Well  blog, who back in June followed a link I'd made to her blog back to this one and became interested in my story. Well, I hope that will get to meet her and thank her in person one day!

I don't think there's going to be any outdoor jogging here in Minnesota, but yesterday I decided to field-test my cold weather gear and took a brisk walk over to the Lifetime Fitness in the Target Center downtown. They allow monthly memberships, so I signed up and now I have to find a bathing suit so I can take advantage of their lovely, lovely Jacuzzi, sauna, and steam room. And of course, all the lovely lovely cardio equipment and indoor track. I'm not sure how I'll feel about running in circles indoors, or on a treadmill, but I fear it must be done if I don't want a setback. I must admit, however, that I did feel the urge to run as I was walking over to the center yesterday. It's easier to run in cold than in heat, but again, I'm not sure what it will do to my lungs, and as I'm here to work the precious voce must be protected. Maybe if I wear my serial killer mask (see above) it will be all right.

The opera company is lovely and takes very good care of its visiting artists. They put us up in really nice lofts right next door to the rehearsal space, and the amenities include a DVD player --- yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay --- so I can exercise right here at home as well. But with the incentive of a Jacuzzi and sauna, I will be over at Lifetime Fitness as often as possible!

One last note before I head off for rehearsal: OH, THE IRONY.

Minnesota Opera is doing the American premiere of British composer Jonathan Dove's delightful children's opera, The Adventures of Pinocchio. It is simply fabulous. If you are anywhere in the vicinity, I really urge you to come; if you've never been to the opera before and aren't sure you'll like it, you will. It's not the Disney version; it's based on the much darker original Victorian tale, but it is still a kiddie opera and full of the most beautifully designed costumes, fanciful sets, and marvelous characters.

I had my costume fitting yesterday. I am at my lowest adult weight since I started this journey, and although I've been in costumed productions during the last sixteen months, I'm at my skinniest. I play two characters in this opera, the Pigeon and the Snail. Well, for my very first costume, as the Pigeon, I have to wear a fat suit! It's a wonderful costume --- picture fat, drunk, 70's Elvis, if Elvis were a giant bird --- and you'll have something of the idea. Seriously, it's a gray leather flight suit with a helmet and goggles (because she flies, right?), and it's absolutely perfect. But let me tell you, it was WEIRD to see all that "weight" come back on in an instant, and to see myself transform back sixteen months. Thank goodness I was able to step right back out of it. And thank goodness that all my costumes for the Snail had to be taken in quite a bit. That was an ego-saver!