Ink Cakes: July 2012

So, I'm into the fitness. I began life as a runner, which was following in my parents' footsteps, literally. After hours of running every night in my first tech school, and my first two marathons, both of which were conducted on some of the flattest flats you could find west of the Rockies, I attempted the Big Sur marathon. I was cocky- this was old hat to me, I'd done it before, sure there were a few topographical differences, but surely youth and hubris would make up the difference!

Sad trumpet sound here.

I made it to the half-marathon point, and just... stopped. I was done. At the time, just with the race, but later on, I realized that by done, I meant done. The running kick was put paid with one last, aborted marathon, and I never looked back. It was time to find something else to do to ward off the fatness.

At my next tech school, I discovered it in the weight room.

Things are bigger in Texas!

To this day, I still do just that, in varying increments (5 sets x 12 reps with one weight for a couple of months, then the upside-down pyramid of higher weight to lower reps in a 12 rep - 10 rep - 8 rep - 6 rep pattern, etc. I won't go into more detail than this, because I think on the scale of Things You Love to Discuss That No One Wants to Hear, discussing your personal workouts is beneath "Dreams" but slightly above "Pictures of Food I took with my iPhone+Instagram." If you really care, follow the link to my fitocracy and stalk me around the gym!

Wait. Don't do that.)

I like to pick up heavy things, and then put them down, and then do it again, half-in-hopes that someday, I will be able to lift even *heavier* things! Quite a goal, very conducive and productive, yes yes.

The other part of my ambition is not at all performance-based, and therefore, out in the world or on the fitness sites I frequent, not something I often disclose; frankly, I'm in it for the vains as well as the gains. I want to look good in clothes and not in clothes and all of that good stuff that you only care about if you are shallow.

Don't care if shallow. Am honest. Want.

And I don't think I'm in the minority, even while most may not want to admit "sex appeal" as readily as they do their desire for "health" or "longevity" or any of the other words on the pill bottles you buy at GNC. You know, the things that are socially acceptable to want, or else you risk people trying to somehow, weirdly, let you down easy. It sounds odd, but I've hand-to-God had people do the whole soft-voice consolation speech; it's as if they, from either their own experiences or from seeing other people try and fail to lose weight, want most to reassure you that it's just that darn ol' media that wants you thin and pretty and able to shop in stores that do not have Bryant or Barn in the title, whereas actual, inner you just wants lasagna.

Inner turmoil as pictured with bad lighting.

But goals is goals, and whether or not you want to be as blunt and vain as I am in declaring your actual ambition, off you go on your fitness journey... but not alone. For if you thought the "My Deepest Sympathies on Your (Attempted) Loss" friends were annoying, well, honey, you ain't seen nothin' yet.

For out of the woodwork of your Facebook or MySpace or Twittermagerd come the product-pushers.

Don't let the uber cute lolcat throw you, because, man alive, do I hate these people. Or would, if hate wasn't altogether too much effort to waste on something I don't like. Let's say, for argument's sake, that they are at the very least heartily disliked. Got that? Good, because here's the itemized list of why these people should be right-click-IGNORED post haste:

First off, why's it always got to be people who are FATTER THAN ME pushing the products? Guys, I'm no willowy fashion model, but I maintain a shape that is easily recognized as not-a-manatee from even a healthy distance. Yet any time someone comes along to push their product, it's always someone larger than me, and unhealthier to boot.

Let's not beat around the bush: what I'm about to say isn't a nice, PC thing to say, because if there's anything worse than someone being a straight-shooter with not-pleasant news, it's someone who passive-agressively implies it.

Like approaching anyone else with a product designed for weight loss, for example. Don't think you're being subtle, you jerk; why would you approach me if you didn't think I could use something made specifically for fat people?

Tip for all you aspiring Product Pyramid scheme types out there: if you want people to buy your product, find people who would aspire to look like its spokesperson: you. When approaching a prospective client, ask yourself, "Do I look like their 'Before,' or their 'After?'" Doing otherwise makes you look oblivious and, quite frankly, wishing their salesperson would pay less attention to detail isn't, like, a thing that happens. Ever.

Okay, so secondly, there's the fact that it's not actual food food, but food product. On the one hand, everybody's body is different, and if you find a product that works for you physically, financially, etc., good on you and way to go! One-two products, like a protein bar or shake, can even ensure you stick to your diet guns by being ready right now, and that can be the difference between will power for days and (this is probably just me) justifying Oreo-knockoff "Hydrox" as "fiber."But I'm a way bigger proponent of learning how to eat healthy via real food than "the commercial says eat cereal so that's all I will eat because the model on the commercial looks like how I want to look." Three sub-reasons real food > food product:

1. Availability. Real food is everywhere. It's simply more widely available than cheese-flavored lo-so rice-cereal blocks, and therefore, you can find deals on it, eat a variety of foods of your choosing, and not be stuck paying fixed rates on food product because WELL THAT'S WHAT IT COSTS, JENNY C. SAYS SUCK IT UP LIKE THE SAUCE IN THE CORNERS OF THE BOX.

BACK OFF IT'S MINE STUPID WRAPPER

2. Sustainability. Real food consumption allows for people to go out and eat socially, like in a restaurant, at a picnic, at a party, etc. Anyone who's jimmies are rustled by this, i.e. "Well just don't eat out, restaurants are costly and you never know what they *really* put in the food because it's not you making it, and if you're trying to lose weight you should eat at home, alone, forever," should never have gotten onto your friends list, let alone right-click-IGNORE.

No, what Debbie Downer up there doesn't take into account is that having support from your friends can be key. So is distraction from how hungry you feel or how bored/depressed/lonely you are and how those cookies may not be love, but they taste close enough, is key. And really, experiencing food IRL as opposed to ICC (in cardboard container) allows you to learn how to eat well IRL, i.e., fix the actual problem as to how you got to a size or fitness level you don't like, and not just fixing the symptoms. If you're chained to a product line, you're far less likely to learn about portion sizing and macronutrient balancing, which means that unless you plan on being on, say, Weight Wishers' food FOREVER AND EVER, and eating alone over your sink because a fatty like you doesn't deserve plates, you'll have no idea how to eat when *off* the product, and hello rebound weight. (I'm not posting the statistics on weight re-gain here, but man alive, are they depressing.)

(Oh, fine. Just so none of you can jump up my butt about sources.)

Also, you want to talk cost?...

3. Reliability. I touched on it above with the paranoia about what extras restaurants are adding to your food,

NO, MY POINT TOTALS DON'T INCLUDE SPIT!!!

and you actually have good reason to be concerned- many restaurants throw melted butter on steak on the reg, to make it seem more succulent and savory, for example. So eating at home does allow you some more control over what you're actually ingesting...

...when it comes to real food. This popped up in my newsfeed today, and in skimming it, I didn't feel disgust, paranoia, or even frustration, but... deja vu. That's the thing about these products- they maybe started out or contained something grown from seeds (both plant and animal apply here if you've spent any time on farms) but they've been so processed, blanched and sifted that whatever trace is left is nigh unrecognizable. The fact that it's shelf-stable should be a tip-off; last time I checked, if I dumped three pounds of grapes into a kitchen drawer and left it there, it would not be a tasty treat come a week later. That so many food products extol their organic and natural virtues on products that have better nuclear survivability than Cher is misleading and totally irritating for people who are trying, damnit, to watch what they eat, and to pull these shenanigans on people that are already feeling low about themselves and are totally raging from hunger... it's a wonder you don't hear about high-fructose-corn-syrup labs getting burned to the ground after their whole "it's corn-sugar, and corn's a plant, so, HEALTHY!" campaign.

Additionally, I totally remember reading that article in Men's Health and Fitness about the guy who started drinking soy milk because it was marketed as healthy... and grew him an impressive set of hooters. Any product that can mess so badly with your hormones might be good to avoid, anyway.

Unless, of course, you're into that.

So whether or not you guys are into gaining strength, agility or stamina, losing weight or clothing sizes, or just peachy-perfect the way you are, just remember that diet is just as important as exercise- your size you build in the gym, but your shape is built in the kitchen- and that learning about nutrition and building your own diet vs. buying some prepackaged stuff that comes with a IKEA-like schedule of "At Time A, Shove Package B into Foodhole" is like that other old saw about teaching people to fish. Only in this example, if you learn how to provide for yourself, you're good to go, my friend...

...but if you don't, expect that the fish monger will be in the same place every day, charging you a pretty penny for ground-up bits of fish SHAPED into a fish-like patty.

And he's the only monger you're allowed to buy from, so if he decides to jack up the price, let's hope you have extra cash laying around.

And you get to listen as he waxes rhapsodic about how much weight you'll lose, your eyes unable to meet the shiny glaze of his belly sweat in the midmorning sun.