The Next Hundred Pounds

OF TRAVEL, TOURISM, AND TROLLS

It's been a really crazy week! On Saturday, I took my last TRX class and sadly said a last goodbye to all the wonderful women at Ironflower Fitness. The staff gifted me with a goodie bag with a towel, water bottle, and itsy-bitsy tank top (which I actually can get on, but would not wear outside the house, at least not yet).  I will miss them,  and I'll really miss that kickboxing class and the TRX class! I hope I can find something equally cool at my next gig, Princeton.

I am already missing the daily workouts. Between the show and a crazy travel schedule, the only workout I did this week was a whole lot of yardwork --- mowing, pruning, planting, hauling limbs and sacks of debris. You see, I had a few days off between shows, and couldn't resist the opportunity to go home, especially since I'll only be there for about two weeks before the next gig. So I flew in, got a few Dachshund saliva facials, did some errands and yardwork, picked my husband up at the airport, and yesterday morning we got on a plane back to Miami for my last two shows. On Sunday, we start the drive home.

I've decided to make the most of the drive by doing short, intense sets of cardio or strength at each pit stop. So if you see a crazy woman doing burpees and air squats at a rest stop in Mississippi, or taking a couple of laps around one in Louisiana, that might be me. Honk as you drive by. Better yet, stop and join me!

There may not have been much exercise this week, but I've done very well with sticking to my program of no grains and very restricted sugar. It's not an issue when eating at home; the only difficulty I have in staying on program is when eating out in restaurants where you're presented with so many carbalicious choices. There, I just do the best I can to choose veggies, protein, and fruit, and skip bread, rice, potatoes, and all the little extras like croutons. I'm not saying a few French fries haven't found their way into the ol'piehole or that I don't have a meal "off" or two per week, but I'm focusing on filling up the plate with veggies and protein, and letting the grains and desserts be more in the way of "tastes" than full portions. It's working. It's completely satisfying.

Today, some friends and I were big ol' tourists and took an airboat ride in the Everglades. It was magnificent! We saw lots of birds and gators, and it was just really cool to be flying over what looked like a regular field ... except that it was a shallow river full of sawgrass.

We even held a baby alligator named Snappy.

I am almost done with my Florida experience (for now! I sure hope I'll get to come back!) and am happy to be heading back to spend a couple of weeks at home. I have enjoyed both opera houses, both casts, and both shows I've gotten to sing here; and of course, who wouldn't love Florida's beautiful outdoors! All the hiking, biking, and exploring have been amazing. Sarasota and Miami are completely different cities, but there is much to love about both of them. Yes, it's been a good experience here.

But it hasn't been perfect --- what is --- and there was a little incident last night which was really upsetting. It shouldn't be. It's no news that for some people, the Internet is a license to behave like a mannerless moron and to let any idiocy that springs to mind dribble from their fingertips onto the screen; things most of them would never have the moxie to say to your face. And in this case, it's compounded by that strange idea people have that anyone who is in the public eye --- no matter how remotely --- is somehow not a real human being, and is open to any kind of comment or criticism. This sort of thing does not happen to me very often. I'm not a celebrity of any kind in the opera world (I like to think of myself as an in-the-trenches sort of singer, slogging away and having a nice career, but unlikely to ever be famous). Still, it happens that sooner or later, anyone who is in the public eye even a little bit is going to be on the receiving end of uninformed, unsolicited, or simply uncomplimentary commentary from the general public. The internet makes this very easy. In this case, these casually nasty comments were hurtful because they were directed at my appearance. Hit a sensitive spot. Talking about it actually helps me get over it and move on. There is not really anything to be done anyway (it never helps to respond to such people and be dragged down into their dirt) except to recognize it for what it is and turn it around however you can. In my case, I'm getting it off my chest and moving on. And thinking about buying a punching bag, so I can continue those satisfying kickboxing workouts at home ...

PRIMAL FLIRTING

Yesterday, I stopped off at a Wendy's to ...er ... use the facilities. It was like entering the Bog of Eternal Stench. I was nearly bowled over by the smell of rancid grease and preservative-laden food. When I recovered a  bit, I looked around and realized that none of the patrons were affected by it. It seemed perfectly normal to them. And once again, I realized that once you cleanse your palate and your body of this kind of trash, you become aware of just how awful it really is.

Several years ago, I did this great gig in Minnesota ... in February. They put us up in beautiful lofts right next door to the rehearsal space. It was sort of the Opera Dorm for grown-ups, and the cast had lots of fun doing potlucks in each other's flats. The last one was a sort of "clear out your fridge" party, and one of my friends brought Hot Pockets, cut up into bite-sized pieces. They smelled pretty good so I decided to try one ... and spit it out into the garbage. It didn't even taste like food to me. (At that point, I probably hadn't had any fast or processed food for about two years).

My point is, you really can re-educate your tastebuds to prefer whole and natural foods, and less sugar. I personally have never conquered the satanic trifecta that is fat-sugar-salt, but I need a lot less of it to be happy. This is on my mind because at last, after three months in Florida, working hard on regaining fitness and the mental strength to concentrate on diet, I feel ready to cautiously introduce some changes to my diet again. And it's party inspired by Mr. Hot Pockets.

Mr. Hot Pockets lives here in Miami, and I saw him the other day. Actually, I worked with him just last summer, and there'd be significant changes to his physique. My friend has a compact, muscular frame, the kind where a few pounds  and a little toning one way or the other make a big difference.  He has never been fat, but he used to weigh a little more, and now he's looking positively sleek. He's doing Primal, Paleo's slightly more relaxed cousin, and I've been intrigued by these for a while. I first heard about Paleo because of CrossFit (many CrossFit adherents are also into Paleo), and it led me on an exploration of these very low-carb diets that eschew grains (even whole grains!), legumes, and processed sugar. The good news? Fat  --- good fat --- isn't the enemy any more. Here, eat the chicken skin. Have a whole avocado. Slather on some coconut oil. EAT BACON!

This is an oversimplification of course, and not a full view of the diet or the lifestyle in its many incarnations. I encourage you to check out some of the links above if you're interested, and they link to many other books and sites.  Personally, I don't think I'm ready to go whole hog (you should forgive the pun) and start foraging, cooking organ meats, and fasting intermittantly, but giving up grains for at least a week? That I can do. I think.  Yesterday was grain-free (I did have some legumes), so technically today is Day One. So far, so good.

I was late to kickboxing this morning, but I joined in with gusto and also did my TRX class. Tonight I plan to go back and do a stretch/burn class. Yesterday, it was zumba and a great 75 minute yoga class all to myself, since no one else showed up!

I was late to kickboxing because  since Daniel's death, I have just been a little spacey, and yesterday was the funeral in France, so that was all that was on my mind. I drove around all day singing "Danny Boy" and had a little private ceremony of my own for him. My voice teacher sent me a link to  my favorite movement from the Faure Requiem --- "In Paradisium", as ethereal and promising as you could wish for, and it made me remember an incident that happened almost ten years ago, when my own father died. I was performing my favorite work of all time, the Verdi Requiem. It's a challenging work with a lot of solos for the mezzo; the last of which requires high, delicate singing after an evening of heavy lifting. But it's the most beautiful thing in the whole work, in my opinion: the Lux Aeterna.

We were in a hall that had stadium seating. When we started the Lux Aeterna, I happened to glance up into the audience, and I saw my father. Not a guy who looked like my dad, not a ghost, but my dad, right there in the audience. The next time I looked he was gone, but I knew he was still there, and it was very comforting. Now here's the weird part: after the concert, one of the choristers came up to me. I did not know this woman, and as far as I know, she had no idea my dad had died just a few weeks earlier. She said to me, "While you were singing the Lux Aeterna, you were surrounded by angels. And I saw your dad standing there. He looked very happy."

This is a recording of that very performance. I have done other, better performances since then, but this one will always be special to me. I now offer it in tribute to Daniel.

ADIEU

It started out as a wonderful day.

I picked Eric up at the Fort Lauderdale airport, and after a delicious lunch at the Rustic Inn Crab House, where we were entertained by the hordes of iguanas patrolling the shipyard across the canal, we headed out to hike at River Bend Park.

It was a gorgeous day, not very hot at all, with a nice breeze blowing. We were greeted by some very handsome peacocks, who were happy to be admired, and would have been happier yet had our admiration extended to the offering of treats.

Sadly, we were treatless, so we apologized and headed off on our hike. It wasn't very strenuous, since everything was flat and well-paved with crushed shells, but it was quite pleasant.

The trees were full of colorful red bromeliads --- a very large one nearly fell on our heads, probably blown off its perch by the strong breeze.

The lake boasted a full complement of Florida birds, including these beautiful  snowy egrets, wood storks, ibises, and even a solitary roseate spoonbill.

The wood stork flees.

A lovely pair of ibises.

The beautiful roseate spoonbill!

We tromped around for about five miles, enjoying the solitude and quiet, as well as the gorgeous jungle-like tropical scenery.

So, it was good exercise, in a lovely spot --- my favorite combination! By the time we reached the car, it was late afternoon, and we weren't quite ready to brave the traffic. We decided to visit another nearby park, Jonathan Dickinson. It's quite different in character, a lot of sand pine scrub,  which may be traditional Florida landscape but quite frankly isn't very pretty. We were ready for a bit of a rest by now, but we did climb to the top of the observation tower, which afforded a nice panoramic view of the park, the Intracoastal Waterway, Jupiter Island, and the ocean.

And it was here that we finally got a phone signal and received a call from Eric's mom in France, telling us that his dad had suffered a massive stroke, was in a coma, and was not expected to wake up.

We headed back to Miami in shock and grief, trying to figure out the best course of action. I had a show Tuesday night, which Eric was planning to attend, and then we were planning a short trip to Key West before my next performance. When we got up on Tuesday, we heard from my mother-in-law again: Daniel had passed away.Tuesday was spent canceling reservations, rearranging plane tickets, and then I had to go to the show. I only told the conductor, who is a friend, and the stage manager ---  if people had been coming up to me offering condolences all night, I never would have been able to get through the performance.  And I got through it.

Wednesday morning I got up early and put Eric on a plane back to Austin; and today he headed off to France.  This is one of the difficult things about my line of work: I can't go. I need to stay here and finish out my contract. And that's what I'm doing. I've done all I can for my husband and mother-in-law for the moment, except to stay here and keep earning my paycheck. It's not pretty but that's the way it is.

Yesterday evening, after pretty much crying all day, I dragged myself to the gym and took Afro Belly Samba class, which turned out to be a perfect mood lifter as well as great cardio. It's hard to be upset when you're wearing a jingly red silk coin belt and shaking everything you've got. Compared to the other slender little ladies in class, I looked more like a football player running tires than an exotic Brazilian dancer shimmying gracefully, but it was fun.

This morning, it was kickboxing and TRX again. Magda has no mercy and we started class with jumping jacks and a run around the block. It's been quite a while since I ran any distance and true to form, I finished last. It's harder to run with extra weight, for sure. But I can keep plodding on. Class was really hard today. It's always tough, but I guess because of the emotional strain I was more tired than usual and also a bigger emotional mess. That's right, more feelings of inadequacy, more embarrassment at being praised for my fat ass being able to do push-ups, and more surreptitious tears. But I did better at fighting it off, and I kept going. I worked harder. I am determined not to eat this grief, not to let it stop me from working out, not to let it be an excuse. And I have done some comfort eating, but I have not pigged out, and I haven't splurged at every meal. It wasn't perfect but it was better than I might have done in the past.

This is a time of great sadness and stress for my family. I will miss my brilliant, funny father-in-law, Daniel. I'll miss his eagerness to try anything new, miss having to babysit him when we toured sites (because he was the absent-minded professor type, and would become absorbed in something, wander off and get lost if he wasn't watched). I'll miss his absolute delight at all things Texan, especially how excited he was to visit the Alamo and the state Capitol and meet a real, live Texas Ranger. He was beside himself on the last trip when we took them to the Texas Ranger museum in Waco. The way he used to talk to himself under his breath as we drove, remarking on exciting things he saw and reading signs out loud in his heavy French accent. "TexAHSS! Rahn-jairs!" (Texas Rangers!) "West-chest-AIR!" (The name of our subdivision ... he never failed to say it when we passed the gates). He remains the only person I have ever heard actually say "Oh-la-la!" and not sound silly, though I much prefer the expression, "Oh la vache!" He ate barbecued ribs with a fork and knife, and it took me a lot of work to dissuade him from this and get him to eat them barbarically with his fingers, like a real Texan. Like a Texahss Rahnjair would. He was an extremely talented and capable man, who did all his own home and car repairs (as my husband does;  he learned from the best) and handmade all the beautiful furniture in his home. He tiled our back porch for us, beautifully. We always had to find small home improvement projects when my in-laws visited, because Daniel needed work to do, and it would be done perfectly. And although he spoke some English, he often misunderstood things I was saying, and had to be corrected by his wife. Who doesn't speak a word of English, but understands it perfectly well from facial expressions and context. I will miss his quaint turn of phrase --- he learned English from British language tapes in World War II --- especially "We are not oblig-ed to ..." .  I will miss the immense amount of pleasure he took in learning things, visiting new places, trying new foods, living life.

Adieu, Daniel. Repose en paix.

OPENING NIGHT!

It's opening night for Romeo & Juliette!You can see some pics from the dress rehearsal here. I'm  in a few of them.

I like to get a little workout in on performance days, so I went to Pilates. Lots of work on those transverse abs, and when it came time to do planks --- front, side, AND back, which I'd never done before --- by golly I held each one for the full time allotted. I hate planks. Obviously, I need to do more of them.

Yesterday, which was Dark Night (the night off between the final dress rehearsal and opening), I'd set my alarm to get up in time to make it to the 9 a.m. zumba class. But when it went off and I groggily dragged myself out of bed, I realized that I needed to sleep in  more than I needed to work out. I gave myself a day off, and was glad.

What do you think of this graphic? Someone posted it as "inspiration" on one of my online support forums, and while I appreciate the point it's trying to make, I also find it offensive. Not all overweight people sit around eating bonbons and chicken nuggets, and not all slender people eat healthfully. I've seen size 0 colleagues wolf down a large plate of cheese fries for dinner while I enjoyed a salad. That's not to say I haven't had a few cheese fries in my time --- the point is , your size is hardly the only indicator of your health OR your athletic abilities. "Inspiration" like this that promotes exclusion, judgment, and negativity isn't true inspiration.

And with that brief note, I'm off to the theater, packing a banana, a protein bar, and coconut water for snacks and hydration. See you on the other side!

TELL YOUR INNER BULLY TO BITE IT

One of the things that often keeps us out of the gym, especially out of classes or other group work environments, is that fear of not measuring up. Of how we'll look. How we'll compare to everybody else. We'll be the fattest, the oldest, the least coordinated, the weakest. We won't be able to keep up.

Well, friends, if you're going to a class where you are made to feel inferior because of where you happen to be in your fitness journey, that class is CRAP. That instructor should be ashamed. Class  --- any kind of class --- should be a place where you are safe to work at your own pace, safe to make mistakes, safe to learn, safe to improve, without worrying about whether you're wearing the right brand of clothes, whether you aren't as accomplished as others, whether you look foolish. Don't waste your time on people who want to tear you down.

And don't tear yourself down, either. Give yourself permission to go to Zumba class and flail about sweating buckets, even if you can't keep up with all the steps and don't look as hot as the professional dancer who is probably leading your class. Just MOVE.

Give yourself permission to show up to Pilates and do 70's instead of 100's, if that's what you can handle right now. Yes, there will be a tough old lady there who is totally kicking your ass. Admire her, don't fear her. Make it your goal to be her one day. And next time, do 75.

Give yourself permission to run a 5K or a 10K and not worry about your time or the fact that you're being passed by the wheelchair athletes. Just get out there and put one foot in front of the other. Groove. Do your own thing.

There's a big difference between challenging yourself and setting the bar too high, then punishing yourself for not being able to reach it. If you're in a class where you really can't keep up and it more discouraging than fun, talk to the instructor and find out if there's a meeting for people who aren't as advanced, or ask what you can do to improve your fitness to the point where you will be comfortable in that class. Then go work on it.  But if you can more or less keep up, then get in there and do what you can. Do maximum repetitions of whatever exercise is being done, and don't worry if that isn't as many or as fast as everybody else. Take a lighter weight for now, if that's what you need. By all means push yourself, work to failure, but don't berate yourself if you are really in there trying and not quite getting it. It will come. Negative self-talk is not going to make it come faster, or better.

I continue to be very grateful and inspired by the women and instructors  in my classes at Ironflower Fitness. It's such a positive atmosphere, and people help each other out and encourage each other. Lord knows I can't do 10 burpees as fast as they can, but I can do 10 at my own pace, or I can do 6 or 7 at theirs. And one day, I'll be able to do 10. The mirror confirms that I look quite ridiculous doing Zumba, so I don't look at the mirror --- I look at the instructor's amazing butt, and remind myself that the important thing is to get my own in gear and in shape.

And I'll tell you something else. If you're working as hard as you should be, you don't have time to notice anybody else and you certainly don't have time to stand around gossiping. Or, for that matter, listening to gossip.

This is what I find so amazing and wonderful about communities of athletes. Most of them are encouraging and don't care what kind of shape you're in. They are just happy that you're there to work, and they will help if you ask. I've written about this before but I personally need reminding, and I think probably other people who are not natural athletes do, too; especially if you have memories of being treated badly in your high school gym class.

This isn't high school any more, people, and you don't have to put up with crap from bullies. That includes your inner bully, whose one goal in life is to keep you from getting where you need and want to go. We don't have time for these people any more. Any amount of time and attention they've ever been given is already too much. We've got work to do.

Loved, loved, loved my kickboxing class today, followed by TRX which is just the coolest thing ever. I want a set of those suspension bands; they could go everywhere with me. Kickboxing is a great cardio workout and it makes you feel very powerful! Magda, our instructor, always asks me to sing a phrase in class, so I always try to choose a strong opera heroine to quote. Today was Joan of Arc (Tchaikovsky's Orleanskaya Deva), just the end of her big aria "Prastitye vi". My class wants to come to hear me in Romeo & Juliette. Now that's support!

SET YOUR OWN PACE

Another costume fitting and another kickbox/TRX two hour class combo survived. I won't lie, my triceps are hella sore.

The costumes are really lovely. I will confess to being slightly dismayed when I first saw them on the rack. They're a bigger size that I'm happy with. But I countered this thought by reminding myself that I had come straight from the shower after Zumba class and logged plenty of workout hours in the last week. It's not like I've been sitting on the couch eating bon-bons.

They were actually a little big this time, and will be tweaked to perfection, but over all they are gorgeous and very flattering. They fall quite beautifully. Another reminder: proper fit is what makes clothing look great on you. The size on the label has nothing to do with it. If you want to look good, get GOOD underpinnings that fit and support you properly, and make sure your clothes are the right size and fit well, even if you have to have them tailored.

I was excited for kickboxing class today. We start off with five minutes of jumprope or cardio of some type. As I lack the coordination to jump rope, I usually do jumping jacks, running in place, and knee lifts. Then, the class does 50 jumping jacks together (usually several times throughout the class), and some boot camp activities. Today's favorite was burpees, this time with handweights. These are HARD! I just go my own pace. I don't really count, I just do max reps.

See, I think this is where a lot of us fall off the wagon. It can be psychologically hard to go to a class, or even to do a DVD, when you are surrounded by people who are thinner and fitter than you. It's easy to focus on the fact that you aren't always keeping up, doing as many reps, doing them as well  or as fast as others. But this is a mistake. Being competitive is fine, but compete with yourself first. If you set the bar for yourself so high that you have no hope of ever winning, eventually you're going to quit from discouragement, and probably end up worse off than before you began. And if you set the bar too low, you're not working hard enough and you're not going to see the benefit. Today's experiences reminded me of when I first started to really work out, and I decided to give myself the freedom to concentrate first on just showing up, which was hard enough without having some inner --- or external --- drill sergeant screaming in my ear. Nowadays, I quite enjoy a good drill sergeant. But a good drill sergeant is one who knows how to motivate, how to take you to your limits, not to make you feel lousy when you're really working hard.

Today in kickboxing class, everybody was doing wheelbarrows --- just like the races you did when you were a kid. It's a kickass core workout. Magda looked at me speculatively, and I could tell she was trying to figure out how to kindly suggest that I shouldn't do it. For one thing, I outweigh everybody else in that class quite significantly, so it would be hard for them to hold my legs. And I stood there trying to find a way to tell her she wasn't going to hurt my feelings. Finally, she said, "Can you do this?" and I said, "I don't know. Let's try." So the tallest woman in the class took my legs, and I managed to do it for a short time, but ultimately, I'm just too heavy and frankly, it's hard on my wrist which was broken and now has pins (I've been paying the price for the rest of the day). So I ended up holding a plank while everybody else did wheelbarrows back and forth across the room.

BUT. The good thing is that I tried, and did a little, and maybe one day I'll be strong enough to do it right. Best of all, in that moment, I made a conscious decision not to get upset about it. I am there, in class, doing what I can. I am not slacking. I am pushing myself. And when it came time for the burpees, Magda told me to just step through rather than jump, and I thought to myself, "Hell with that!" and jumped. I can't bring my legs very far forward, but that is not due to my weight. I couldn't do it when I was slimmer, either; it has to do with how my hips work. Strangely, however, I am very flexible. It's just that certain directions of movement don't work that well.

Anyway, point being, the goal is to GET FITTER and to STICK WITH IT. And I am willing to do that in the way that seems best to me, which isn't always the number one expert recommended way. I'm not saying to ignore expert advice, but rather, to filter it through what you are capable of doing and can maintain.

Those classes wiped me out. I came home, took a two hour nap (which I NEVER do during the day) and spent the evening running all over the stage in rehearsal. And you know what? Even though I have gained back a chunk of weight, I still don't get out of breath doing that, because I've increased my fitness. Not justifying, not settling, but also not discounting what I have managed to achieve.

As for smaller costumes ... well, next time, I hope. I'm workin' on it.

Empowerment (just call me Star).

Um, wow.

This link is making the rounds among my FaceBook friends, a lot of whom are singers and into Crossfit, Paleo, and just fitness, plain and simple. (Thanks and props to the inspirational-in-so-many-ways Twyla Robinson). But it really resonates, and ties in with another recent article from none other than the fabulous, intelligent, totally normal person who happens to be a major Hollywood star Ashley Judd. Ms. Judd refuses to sit back and be silent about the media and public trashing her looks and makes a strong case for standing up to society's pervasive misogeny which so insidiously focuses on women's bodies and looks as the wellspring of their worth. Both of these articles are tremendously empowering, and considering all the scary legislation that is currently being proposed and sometimes passed to assert control over women's bodies, quite timely.

I love what Ms. Judd says: "I do not want to give my power, my self-esteem, or my autonomy, to any person, place, or thing outside myself".

And yet, fat people --- especially women, whose bodies are largely considered public property, at least in a popular sense ---  frequently do this on a daily basis. It takes a great deal of vigilence to avoid it. I struggle with it constantly. As a woman in her forties (and sadly, I have a really hard time with the aging thing) who is not and never has been actually skinny, who has always felt like an outsider when it came to fashion and beauty and all the media holds up as that to which I should aspire, it is a daily and sometimes hourly battle. And I am not a person who has particularly low self-esteem. My ego, if you hadn't noticed, is probably the most robust part of me. How much harder and discouraging must it be for people who really do have to fight for self-esteem in all areas of their lives?

So, how amazing is this "Celebrate Strong" post from Eileen Schreiber? She's had enough of being bombarded with images of what she calls "SkinnyStrong" women (mostly fitness models and professional fitness competitors) being held up as the ideal representative of her own fitness community (in this case, CrossFit). And for the record, she's not bashing SkinnyStrong women. She just wants people who look like her --- like you and me, complete with jiggly bits, whose abs will only see a sixpack if we hold the Bud Light up in front of them --- to be represented as ambassadors of strength and fitness, too. She calls this RealStrong. And Ms. Schreiber has even issued a call to action:  "Post pictures of yourself, of real people you know, and say something uncool like – that fat chick over there motivates me because she is hammering that workout! That chick over there, yeah, thunder thighs over there, just deadlifted 300 lbs.  She happens to have 3 kids.  That is HOT. Make RealStrong the sexiest, bestest  positive thing ever for people like you and me who shine our strength from our hearts, want to share that, and are saying NO to the SkinnyStrong is the New Perfect bullshit that repeats the body image crap we say we have overcome."

Can I get an AMEN?

You know that Rolling Stones song, "You Can't Always Get What You Want (But You Get What You Need)"?  (Young'uns, Google it).

Well, today I got what I needed, and once again, it came when I needed it. Today, having girded my loins with my hot pink Fit Club tee shirt and my tie-dye hippie bandana, I headed off to the gym for my first kickboxing class, followed by a TRX suspension class. Two hours of ass-kicking awesomeness, and you may take it from me, all available ass was kicked.

Admire my sweat.

The spirit of this class of women was tremendous. Led by Magda, a tough, muscley little drill sergeant with a heart of gold, I fell in love immediately. The women in this class were mostly regulars, and one of the first things Magda told me (and the two other newbies) was that if you come to class three times, you get a nickname. She introduced the regulars: Shanti, Xena, Mighty Mouse, Hollywood. (I'm probably forgetting someone --- sorry, ladies). They were friendly and helpful, and this class was a group effort. I've never felt so welcome so quickly.

It was hard work but SO MUCH FUN. Talk about empowerment! You're kicking and punching, and in between, doing sets of burpees, squats, jumping jacks, push-ups, and all manner of punishment. You get to hold this big pad, like a shield, and take turns whacking at it, kicking and punching each other across the room.  IT IS BADASS. You're a badass for doing it.

And even though I was a newbie, and not in the kind of shape these girls are in, Magda zeroed in on my strengths and encouraged me through my weaknesses. Turns out that P90X Kenpo I've been doing is good practice for a kickboxing class. And turns out, at least according to Magda, I'm pretty strong.

Strong was the word of the day for me. Magda praised me a lot for my strength. (She also tells you when you suck at something, or your effort sucks, and I like that).At one point, she told me I was a rock star. Well, of course I had to correct that impression: I am an OPERA star.

And that's how I got my kickbox class nickname on the first day. Star.

TRX is also a mighty, mighty workout, endlessly varied, and doing it right after kickboxing was fantastic. Most of the class stayed on, and we were  joined by some others. Whenyou're not doing body weight resistance work (rows, push-ups, bicep curls, squats, and various things I don't know the names of) you're doing more burpees, planks, push-ups, mountain climbers, jumping jacks, and squats.

I ended up singing for the class while doing bicep curls on the TRX bands (by request of course, I don't just belt it out whenver I feel like it). Turns out one of my classmates is a regular opera goer, and was excited to meet one of the singers. When I left for the day, the instructors clustered around the front desk asked, "Was that you singing in there?" Apparently they could hear me over the music ... well, it was Amneris' curse.

When I started off the workout day, stretching out alone in the studio before anyone else got there, what I was noticing was the undesireable prominence of my gut when I bend over to stretch back and hamstrings, thinking ruefully, "Oh well. Just ignore it. I'm here to get fit, not model underwear."

And when I left, I was noticing how strong I actually am, and thinking, "Now that I'm all pumped up with all that resistance training, maybe I should wear a tank top to rehearsal tonight."

So, yeah. Empowerment. It's kind of awesome. Try it.

TRAVEL FOOD AND FITNESS

Every time I travel to a new gig, I face a new and unknown living situation. Sometimes it's possible to have a pretty good idea of what I'll be getting --- if I'll be in an apartment or hotel, for example --- but if I'm staying in someone's home, either as a guest or a renter, you never know until you get there what the accommodations will be like. Will there be space to work out, and will it bug your hosts if you do? How far do your kitchen privileges extend?

So, the name of the game is preparation and flexibility. I always bring a few key items that I need for food prep (good knife, my trusty little food processor, sometimes a blender) and workouts (resistance bands, DVDs, yoga mat). And I've developed a scaled-down on-the-road repertoire of menus which involve a few foods that don't take up a lot of space.

It took me a long time to get over the notion that traveling = vacation = laze around and eat whatever I want, damn the consequences. Eventually I realized that this IS my life, not an escape from it, and even though it's harder to be healthy when you're traveling for any number of reasons, if I don't want to end up looking like Jabba the Hut's younger, prettier sister, I have to come to terms with it. Sometimes it's harder than others, such as when the cast wants to hang out after rehearsal, which inevitably leads to a drink or two and a lot of snacking, or when my darling husband is able to join me (because we DO tend to treat that time like a vacation ... working vacations are the only kind we take). 

I had had big plans to use my time in Sarasota to work hard, recover from my Christmas break milaise, and start the scale moving back down. Sarasota was an important milestone to me because it was a photo from the steps of Ca d'Zan, taken on a visit to a friend in the summer of 2007, that helped me realize changes had to be made. I had a sort of fantasy of taking an "after" photo in the same spot.

Well, that didn't happen. I didn't want to see what such a photo would look like right now. I know it's silly, but it would make my backsliding seem more real, possibly more permanent, and I am not willing to let go of the fight. So in a way, I'm in hiding. But while I haven't lost any weight for some time, I did accomplish two important fitness goals while in Sarasota. Number one, I worked out almost every day. I did Power 90 --- nothing as strenuous as P90X,  but still good cardio and strength training --- and biked and hiked quite a bit. Number two, the beautiful atmosphere there and my wonderful experience with my cast and the show helped me in just the way I needed to shake off the final remnants of that debiliating stress episode I'd been dealing with. No doubt the exercise helped, too.

So here I am in Miami, and it's an adjustment. Drivers here are crazy and mean --- I'd be afraid to ride my bike anywhere on the streets. My cast here is friendly and cordial but we don't hang out. No one's going for drinks after rehearsal. I can cook, but have limited space to store food. The nice lady from whom I am renting a room has a beautiful but small kitchen, and I don't think she's used to her guests wanting to do much cooking. I can store food, but she couldn't give me my own shelf in the pantry or fridge, and I just feel inhibited.

Good thing I have the Barbie Gym and my Road Food Repertoire.

There is a great article here about eating right when you're traveling. It's geared towards runners, but it applies very well to opera singers, business travelers, and even vacationers who are serious about not going overboard. Singers have to be fussy about their food just like athletes do --- just like anyone who wants to stay fit does. There are lots of good points and tips in this article: overeating or skipping meals can mess you up; you have to prepare for both transit and time on the ground.

The article recommends high protein snacks like string cheese and hardboiled eggs, peanut butter, hummus and carrots, turkey, granola bars, and trail mix. When I'm on one of my redeye flights for auditions and lessons, I always have 100-calorie packs of almonds or a baggie of homemade trail mix; single-serving packs of peanut butter, and Think Thin bars (which are very high protein and relatively low carb). These travel well and are great if I get stuck and don't want to spend $18 on an airport salad composed of iceberg lettuce and a few coldcuts. I've also found that salad bar salads --- one of those big cardboard boxes from Whole Foods --- keep pretty well outside refrigeration for a couple of hours at least on an airplane. I always stock up at the salad bar (with vegetarian options; unless there's a lot of dairy, they'll stay good longer) before I hit an evening flight, and believe me, I am the envy of my seatmates and many a flight attendant when those plastic-wrapped microwaved cheeseburgers start making the rounds.

When Eric and I drive long distances, we always pack a cooler with treats for picnic stops, rather than stopping at restaurants. We like to get smoked fish, hummus and carrots and fresh broccoli, a small piece of really good cheese to share, and maybe something snacky and crunchy like pretzels. It's become a little ritual we really enjoy.

Once I'm settled into town, I keep my eat-at-home foods pretty basic. It saves money, space, and decision-making.  I also follow the law of "if it ain't in the house, you can't eat it" and try not to bring temptations home with me. If I want a treat, I have to go get it.

Spinach is my miracle base. You can cook it, you can eat it fresh as a salad. I throw a big handful or two on a plate and top it with black beans and corn; or tuna fish and sprinkle of  lowfat cheese, or a mix of frozen veggies, soy sausage, and a little cheese. Or I make a big salad. At home I prefer fresh veggies but on the road I usually buy a package or two of frozen broccoli and whatever else appeals in the moment. I usually buy one rotisserie chicken per trip --- one person can eat off that for a week. I buy eggs for hard-boiling and omelettes; omelettes with lots of veggies make a great quick meal. I also always buy a few really good olives, sun-dried tomatoes, a bit of really good cheese, and something crunchy like soy nuts or walnuts. Just a couple of these can really dress up a salad or a hot meal with little bursts of flavor and texture. A few pieces of fresh and dried fruit, Greek yogurt, oatmeal, and maybe some whole wheat pasta for those times when I get really busy and need to have a heat-and-eat meal ready, and I'm good to go.

Yes, it gets boring. And when that happens, I eat out.

So, the good thing about Miami is that I can really concentrate on working out and eating better, and get myself geared up for the summer.  I guess this is part of the cycle, too, learning to deal with the really busy times and the less busy times, the swings towards better fitness and the backsliding.  A lot of my colleagues are really on the fitness bandwagon, and that helps. A lot of them are doing Crossfit and the whole Paleo thing. I'm intrigued by Crossfit and would like to try it, but it needs to be a time when I'm not working. Paleo ... I can see adopting the basics but I'd never, pardon the pun, go whole hog.

So, it's time to hit the gym again. Today's treat: something called Ballet Barre Burn. Barre classes are all the rage these days, so I am really looking forward to trying it. I just really hope the music isn't so loud.

 

A DAY OF THANKS

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Ours was small, but we still had a great time cooking and sharing our feast. None of the recipes were "healthified" this year, I'm afraid; but we used the vintage china plates, which are smaller than modern plates,  and nobody wanted more than one serving, although it was all so good! As the only meat eater in the house, I'm fixed for turkey for some time to come.  I am so thankful for the bounty of our table. I pray that those who are struggling to feed themselves will be blessed with full stomachs this holiday season, and the means to provide for their families.

We had a challenging week leading up to the holiday. Friday and Sunday of last week were my shows. Eric flew in for opening night on Friday (also our 11th anniversary!) and we celebrated on Saturday with a big hike. We were turned away from our first choice due to it being opening day for hunting season; the park was filled with deer hunters. So we ended up going to nearby Fort Duffield, a Civil War earthworks fort overlooking the Ohio River, where we climbed the short but VERY steep trail from the parking lot to the park, and then a mile trail back down along the creek bed.

Then we drove over to Jefferson Memorial Forest and did a nice, hilly hike before it got too dark. Perfect way to spend the day, and if I go back to Louisville, I'll know where to go on my days off! I am thankful that my sweet husband Eric was able to come and see my show, and that we were able to spend a wonderful day hiking together. I'm thankful for Eric, period. I pray that those who are alone find love.

The show was great, but it was a little bit stressful due to an ongoing disagreement between the orchestra and the opera company. They were unable to resolve it before our show opened, so we performed with four hands piano and a harpsichord. The orchestra was not very happy with this arrangement, and some members posted nasty comments about the production (which they had not yet seen) and protested outside the venue; but the audience was overwhelmingly supportive of the singers and really enjoyed the show. You can read a review here. I'm thankful that our show was able to go on and that it was a big success, even without an orchestra. I pray for a speedy resolution to this struggle which is keeping so many musicians out of work and is damaging to the community.

And here's a pic of me on opening night, with the mini-Marcellina made by our wonderful Susanna, Anya Matanovic. She made finger puppets of every character in the opera as opening night presents --- so talented. All I gave people were homemade brownies. I'm thankful for my incredible, talented, lovely colleagues! And I pray that everybody gets to experience such  fabulous colleagues at some point in their careers.

On Monday, we started the long drive home in the rain ... we drove over 800 miles, stopped in North Dallas for the night, and then made it home on the second day. Actually, when we hit Austin, we went straight to Whole Foods and did our Thanksgiving shopping.

On the way home, I got a terrifying phone call from my sister-in-law. My older brother, who I'd just talked to on the phone earlier that day, had been robbed at gunpoint in broad daylight, in his own driveway, in an upscale suburb of Atlanta. He's fine; my brother can basically sell ice to Eskimos, and he managed to keep the robber calm, refusing to go into the house, close the garage door, or give him his wallet (he gave him credit cards and cash). He got the guy to leave and called the police.  Needless to say, the thing Iam most thankful for this year is that my brother survived this very frightening and dangerous situation, and that my family is safe and healthy. My prayer is for the person who felt he had to threaten my brother's life in order to steal his money. I am angry at this person, but I also wonder if he is desperate, if he has kids to feed. I pray that he finds a better way to live, and that he doesn't hurt anyone else.

Even though it turned out so much better than it might have, the incident was, of course, very upsetting and  it took a surprising physical toll on me. I felt exhausted for the rest of the day and most of the next, almost as if I had the flu. Friends assured me this was the affect of the adrenaline jolt and told me to treat myself as if I had the flu. So I cooked, and napped, and cuddled with the Dachshunds (who are REALLY glad to see Mommy), and today I felt like a new woman.

So good, in fact, that after the turkey went in the oven this morning there was time  to go for a run. It was kind of tough, not one of my happier runs, but I was very glad to have done it.  After our long dinner (over the last couple of years we've evolved a tradition of French-style dining ... which basically means it takes three or four hours to eat) I took the dogs for a long walk. So at least I got my exercise in, and enjoyed my meal guilt-free.

Now I'm at home for a while. I get to be here for the holidays, though I have a few quick audition trips, and a concert to do. My goal is to work out four to five days a week. I'm thinking that I might start P90X again, but do it on alternate days and run in between. I'd like to find a 10K to run when I'm in Florida.

I'm thankful that, even as I continue to struggle, I am in better shape than in previous years. I am stronger and I have more endurance, and I still am determined to become better yet. And I pray for all of you to have a healthy, happy year with plenty to be grateful for. God bless. :)

STANDING ON A FENCE POST

I have been trying to finish this post for over a week now. This is what I have been doing instead of writing:

This is me, backstage at rehearsal for Kentucky Opera's Marriage of Figaro, which opens Friday. Tonight is our final dress rehearsal. Here's a color pic from my dressing room, to show the elaborate makeup:

 

I sort of look like Miss Kitty! With Tammy Faye eyes. ;)

Now back to our regularly scheduled post!

Where's the line between healthy self-care and unhealthy obsession? If you're unhappy with the way you look or the number you see on the scale, is that always a bad thing? When is it time to leave well enough alone?

Recently, Jan replied to my last post with this comment:

"Wonder wonder wonder, why are we so determinedly perfectionistic about our appearance? Why hold on so tightly so rigidly to such a narrow impossibility of form?

You really have achieved so very very much, an incredible life with success in so many areas, I hope you (and all of us) can celebrate ourselves more often and focus on minor faults less often."

First, Jan, thanks for your kind words. And also, for your wise reminder. What a great way to phrase it --- "celebrate ourselves". I agree with you about the fruitless pursuit of perfection, rigid views about what we should look like, and focusing on minor faults while failing to celebrate our victories.

But this is part of the ongoing struggle. There's a difference between a realistic  desire to be as healthy and fit as you can, and an unrealistic desire for a woman over 40 who has never been thin and isn't planning on hundreds of thousands of dollars' worth of surgery to look like a hardbodied teenager. There's a difference between wanting to be a size 12/14 and a size 0.

It's always been very important to me to be realistic about my goals --- I believe  that in order to hav real success in long term major weight loss, it's  critical to be realistic about your goals and what your body can achieve. So when I embarked on this journey, I did not set a goal weight. I promised myself that I would pay attention to my body and see where it started to "max out" on weight loss, the point at which it became so painful and difficult to lose that the struggle wasn't worth it. Where would my body be happy?

And when I got there, neither the number on the scale nor on the clothing tags were quite as low as I would have liked them to be. I really wanted to lose about another thirty pounds. But people kept saying to me, "No! Don't lose any more, you look great now!"  And as it turned out, without drastic measures (which are impossible to maintain) I couldn't have lost any more, and I was pretty happy overall at that weight.

So fast forward a couple of years, and although I've continued to work out and am generally in much better shape than I was before, a goodly amount of poundage has crept back on, and I'm not pleased with that. Does this mean my past achievements suddenly don't count, or that I want to be perfect (whatever that means)? Not at all. I just want to stay healthy and feel comfortable in my body.

See, this is the tricky thing about maintenance. It's not like you land on a magic number and poof, home base, you're done. It's more like standing on a fence post and trying very hard not to fall off! As with all things in life, it's about balance. I am not sorry that I spent two years of my life literally working my ass off. It required a laser beam focus and a lot of extra time --- time and a focus I can no longer maintain with that intensity. This to me does not represent a failure, but an entry into a different phase of life. I struggled for years to find a way to lose weight and keep it off, to find a way of eating that worked for me, to get to the point where exercise could be a regular part of my life without being completely onerous --- and I found it. But it shouldn't surprise me now that I have to work just as hard to find out whatever it takes to keep me on track for the long term. Mainly, I suspect, it's nothing glamourous --- just lots of little decisions every day.

So, I appreciate posts like Jan's very much ---- a great reminder to be  grateful for  and mindful of past achievements, and to keep focused on the good. Still, in my mind, I'm not ready to come off the fence post. As hard as it is sometimes, finding the balance is worth it. And so is the view.