In which I ponder my thighs

I was supervising my youngest's bath/prune stewing, sitting on a stool out of splashdown range.

I glanced down at my jean-clad legs and thought: "Wow, my thighs look thin."

Then I realized: "Damn, I have never, ever thought that before in my life."

It's Non-Scale Victories like this that help you keep the train a rollin'.

We put a lot of emphasis on the scale, but it's really important to continue to remember it's about a whole lot more than three digits.

Make sure you remind me of this next time I'm bitching about the scale.

Review: Zaggora Hot Pants

If you've been reading this blog with hopes that one day I would post a photo of myself in my sports bra, well, today is your lucky day, my friend.

That picture is below. But, first, some background. And a nifty picture of me, post-bootcamp. Check out how great my hair looked after that hard circuit. Wow. Go me.

So, last December, Flo bought a Groupon for a pair of Zaggora Hot Pants. I was immediately intrigued because of the name: Hot Pants. How awesome.

I had sudden visions of women roller-discoing down Venice Beach wearing those those shiny, skin-tight '70s pants, tube tops and giant radio headphones with antennas.

Zaggora claims you can lose significant inches around your midsection just by wearing these pants while you workout. Flo said they functioned as a great "sports girdle." Pretty sure she did not test the earlier claim, I know I would have heard about that if she did and it actually worked.

What intrigued me most was the sports girdle concept because I really needed one. When there's repetitive hopping in bootcamp, such as jumping jacks (which there are every class), the significant only-surgery-will-get-rid-of-it flab around my midsection goes flap-a-flap-a-flap. It's embarrassing and uncomfortable. I discovered this sad phenomena last spring and quickly devised a solution.

I started wearing a one-size-too-small tank top under my T-shirt. This MacGyver girdle kept my stomach from slapping against itself during class. However, wearing two shirts to bootcamp is hot and relatively uncomfortable, which is why when the Hot Pants Groupon popped up again this January, I bought a pair.

I've been wearing them - and washing them - by hand, thank you very much - 3x a week since early January and here's what I've found: They are a terrific sports girdle.

When they arrived, I opened the mailer and was immediately overcome by the smell of rubber. As in, a tire. As in, these are rubber pants, people. Or, rubber-like. (The rubber smell goes away after you wash them.)

I tried them on. They were thick and seemed to be made of a wetsuit-type material. I pulled them on and they landed just below my breastbone. Perfect. See the porn-y, pervy bootcamp bathroom shot on the left.

(As an aside, I feel like I need to explain that I don't usually go around taking pictures of myself in bathrooms with my shirt up. Reason I did it is I wanted you to see how high these suckers go - and that's a good thing. Between my industrial-strength Enell bra and the Hot Pants I have, like, an inch of skin showing. Why the bootcamp bathroom? Because the mirror was at the right height and it had perfect lighting) I know I look like some total Twitter perv snapping a pic of his junk. I'm pretty sure no one's gonna get all sexed up over a picture of me in the least-sexiest (but most-effective) bra ever, holding up the least-sexiest breasts ever, atop the the least-sexiest pants ever. I mean, I hope not. Anyway...)

Not-too-tight and not-too-loose, these pants really do the trick for bootcamp. And, much like C+C Music Factory, these pants are gonna make you sweat. Loads.

I'm not an insane sweat-er, but after my first bootcamp class sweat was literally running down my legs and heading into my Vibrams. Eeewww. Not a great sensation. But I guess that's to be expected because if you're running, jumping and hopping around for a half-hour in half-a-wet suit, you will be, let's say, damp.

I'm used to working out in tights, but this is different because those are lightweight and wicking. The Hot Pants are not. When you peel them off (and you are peeling them off), the pants are wet and your bod is wet. Seriously, you will be so excited for a shower. And if you, say, get in a car and drive while wearing them after a class, make sure you're sitting on a beach towel.

Another thing I dislike is at the bottom of the left pant leg it screams: "HOT PANTS" in neon yellow, you can see it in the pervy pic above. The logo's too big, even though I love saying "Hot Pants."

So, in review: These pants will hold you in place comfortably if you need extra support below your breasts and above your groin. They were a good deal with the Groupon, $29 I think. Full-price I think they're north of $70. No way would I pay that I'd stick with the $10 tight tank from Target (say that three times fast).

In which I enjoy sexy fruit salad

Who has two thumbs and eats fruit salad out of a mixing bowl?

This gal.

Is it wrong that this fruit salad turned me on a tad? It was very good.

Under the old Points program, I hated "wasting" Points on fruits & veg because WW wanted you to have five servings a day, which usually meant 5 Points spent on F&V. Five! Points! I can tell you, I rarely got to five.

Fast forward to November 2010, when Points Plus rolled out. I distinctly remember heading out for errands one day. I would not be back at the house for a few hours. Normally, I'd grab a Fiber One bar or something to tide me over. But then I remember: "Wait, fruit is free! 0 Points!"

I grabbed an apple as a snack and remember thinking: "I am 40 and have never grabbed an apple as a snack before in my life."

That was a big turning point.

Thanks to Points Plus I've been exposed to - and enjoyed - far more fruits and vegetables than I ever had in my previous 40 years. This means I have a ridiculous amount of fruits and veg on hand, which in turn leads my kids to naturally snacking on fruit more than ever.

Sure, they still eat a lot of crap, but they're kids. Veg? That's a bigger hill to climb, we'll get there. Because if I can turn into a major fruit-and-veg lover - a vegetarian, no less - there's hope for anyone.

In which I talk myself into a good decision

I swear, 99% of my weight-loss/maintenance life is talking myself out of a bad decision and into a better one.

With food, it's almost always the "I want this, but I'm not hungry and don't need it" variety. If I want something - and am hungry - I will have it. I won't deprive myself. However, head hunger is a far tricker foe.

I have these self-dialogues regarding activity, too. For example, this very morning, a designated run day. I got up at 5:30 am, it was pitch black and raining. I ate my breakfast and read the newspaper, listening to the rain hitting the skylights.

When it came time to think about changing, I heard that voice in my head and that set off a mental conversation that went something like this:

"You don't have to run this morning."

Yes, I do. I have a half-marathon in 7 weeks for which I am already behind in my training.

"But, it's raining out."

I have water-repellant clothes. My watch is waterproof and there's a pocket for my Nano, so there will be none of this business.

"Well, it's still dark out."

*checks iPad*

Sunrise is 7:04 am. I have reflective gear. I will not get killed or eaten by a coyote.

"You could run tonight after Keith gets home."

I could, but it would hang over me all day and I will be pissed off all day knowing I should have and could have run this morning instead of wimping out and having to go out later, when I am more tired than I am now. Plus, if I run this morning, I get to eat a bowl of cereal right now to carbo load.

"Wait, there's cereal? What are we waiting for? Let's go."

So I ate my cereal, got dressed, warmed up and headed out. Yes, it rained the whole 3 miles, but I was pretty dry and the temperatures were good (45), so I was not cold. In fact, wearing the light waterproof jacket left me pretty darn hot.

But here's the kicker, while running all of a sudden I remembered: I really like running in the rain. It's the getting-out-there that's the tough part.

Eleanor Roosevelt said something like: "The easiest person to fool is yourself." That is definitely true in my case, sadly before, during and currently after my weight loss.

I'm annoyed I still try to play tricks on myself, but I'm glad I'm getting stronger that fighting them.

Recipe: Easy Crustless Spinach-Feta Pie

There's a reason I am a very lazy vegetarian.

I enjoy cooking, but trying to cook with the kids awake takes three times as long. And, since I don't prefer a European dining schedule of 9 pm on, I haven't been cooking much.

However, Flo posted a link to this crustless (read: low-Point) spinach-feta pie and it looked easy and delicious - two winners in my book.

Got the ingredients today and eventually ("Mom, I need..." "I can't find..." "I want..." "I gotta poop...") got it in the oven.

Look at this gorgeousness of the spinach, herbs and feta before you add in the egg and flour mixture:



Three notes:

Where the hell can I find Bob's Red Mill White Whole Wheat Flour? I searched two large grocery stores and found every other obscure type of Bob's product, including: "Bob's Red Mill Whole Wheat Organic Gluten-Free Buckwheat Steel Cut Biscuit Mix For Sundays in March." If you've ever searched Bob's offerings, that is a very funny joke. On Flo's advice I subbed in King Arthur's White Whole Wheat, but the smallest size was a 5lb bag, so I guess I'll be making this pie quite often.

I bought the smallest bunch of fresh dill I could find and I've now got enough to last me through 2013. If you're in Central Massachusetts and need some fresh dill, I'm your gal.

The "hardest" part of this recipe is getting all the moisture out of the thawed spinach. Especially when you had three kids sitting at the kitchen island, watching you do it, and providing unrequested color commentary: "Eeewww. What's that?"

Regardless, this recipe was easy and really, really good. Gina says to cut it into 6 to 8 servings and if you can eat that little you're a better person than I, Gunga Din. I quartered the pie and called it 5 Points Plus per serving. Totally worth it.

You'll be impressed that I considered adding kale, but abstained.

Race Report: Celtic 5K 2012

As I stood at the race start yesterday I spied a cool shirt just up ahead.

Runners are a weird, creative lot and one of the fun things about racing is there are a lot of funny shirts on display. This one wasn't so much funny, as it was spot on:

"Running is a privilege. Every step is a gift."

As I waited to start my first race of 2012, I knew that was very, very true.

In November 2011, I hurt my back and, subsequently my right gluteus medius, which forced me to take two months off running (December 2011 and January 2012).

I started easing back in on Feb. 2, unsure how - or if - my back and glute would hold up. I stated a run-walk rehab regimen, which eventually led me to a 4-mile run last Sunday. I, thankfully, could run again.

I was dying to run the Celtic 5K this year because this very race last year was my first. I should not have run that race last year. I knew it was a bad idea at the time, but I did it anyway because, well, I was stupid.

However, that inauspicious start led to a nice running season in 2011, in which I completed 10 more races. I trained a lot. I ran a lot. I learned a lot. But what I learned most of all was I really loved racing.

Training? A necessary evil. It's boring. You get up at the crack of dawn to run around in the dark, cold, hot or wet. The only one pushing you is you, and that gets old quickly.

However, racing is the payoff. A fun day of excitement and camaraderie. You get a cool shirt. You get a bagel and banana (you can have mine, I don't like them). And all the bottled water you can drink. My personal record: 8 bottles.

Anyway, racing is great because it's exciting and it's a goal. To me, running without racing is like driving around in your car with no destination. Yawn.

So yesterday I was thrilled to be back where I began. Last fall, before I got hurt, I was so excited for this race because I knew I could PR it because it's flat and fast. I knew a PR wasn't in the cards yesterday, I just wanted to run, feel good and enjoy the fact I was back one year later, still running.

I met up with my domestic running life partner, Sandy, who has turned into an impressive runner herself. We've been friends for 15 years now (wow) and last year we both took up running.

I love racing with her (or, behind her as she's faster than me) because it's so much fun to share the excitement and accomplishment with a friend, especially a good one. There's always someone to take your picture, hold your place in the port-a-potty line and watch your stuff.

It was beautifully sunny yesterday, but windy, which made it feel a lot colder than the 42 degrees it was. Before I left the house, I needed to grab a sweatshirt or something to keep me warm before the race. But it had to be outwear I didn't care about, as I was leaving it at the start, and something nice would surely disappear before I came back in.

I grabbed the only old thing I could find, a fleece. Size: Men's XL. Seriously, it was like wearing a Snuggie, but it did its job. As Sandy noted: "We could both fit in there."

Warm in my fleece tent, we meandered around, of course hit the porta-a-potties and took pictures. We joke we only run so we can put stuff up on Facebook, and it's more true than not.

Soon it was time to line up, Sandy headed for the 10-minute milers, I went back with the 12s, as I was still about 2 minutes off my year-end pace of 2011.

It was a big race, around 2,000 runners and soon we were off. The air horn sounded and everyone began "Woooooo!"ing and shuffling toward the start line. There was a lot of traffic in the first half-mile, as expected, and I went out too fast. Adrenaline got the best of me. But I relaxed, settled in and listened to my Celtic playlist (see the bottom of this post).

There was no marker or time clock at 1 mile or the turnaround, but by 2 miles there was the time: 21 and some change. Not bad. I had avoided looking at my Garmin the whole race as I was determined to just enjoy the experience and not try anything stupid.

We hit the 3-mile mark and I could see the finish line in the distance. The gun time was nearly 29 minutes, not bad again, I thought.

I sprinted the final tenth and crossed the line at 31:47, for a 10-and-some-change pace. I was really happy with the time, all things considered. Last year I finished the race in 47 minutes.

I headed for the water table and soon spotted Sandy, who did PR, coming in at 28 and some change. We drank water, ate a piece of pizza (seriously, I need to eat more pizza) and gloried in our overall awesomeness. Because if there's one thing runners love, it's talking about running. Preferably with other runners.

It had been quite a running year and, hopefully, the best is yet to come.

The Celtic 5K Playlist

Didn't need the last song. Woo!

In which I may be addicted to kale

I was sitting on the couch this afternoon, reading my iPad and snacking out of a bag of raw kale.

Eyes on the screen, my kids yammering and wandering about, my right hand hopping in and out of the bag, snatching up bits of leafy greens and mindlessly popping them into my mouth.

My husband walked in and asked, calmly, "Are you addicted to kale?"

After chewing and swallowing, my mouth opened to dismiss his joke: "Of course not. You're cra-"

And then I thought, Damn, I do like it a lot.

My new favorite salad is above, a large bowl of raw spinach and kale, mixed with 30g feta (2 Points+) and 2 Eggsland's Best medium hardboiled eggs (1 Points+ each). No dressing. I tried it with dressing and it overpowered the taste of the egg and cheese. And, you know, the greens.

The good news: The salad is tasty and super healthy. The bad news: No one is lining up to kiss me after lunch.

It's funny, I've never been a huge salad junkie because I was never really a big lettuce person. But this spinach-and-kale thing? I can get into that.

I will say one thing: Kale is not everyone's bag. I've had some friends try it. Some think it's great, others think I'm high ("It's like I tore a hunk off my lawn and put it in my mouth!"). I believe it's either a "You love it or you hate it" thing.

I know my family is less-than-thrilled with my kale love. My daughter reported that yesterday she informed her kindergarten teacher: 'MY MOM EATS A LOT OF KALE AND IT SMELLS!" Thankfully, I don't have any more parent-teacher conferences scheduled.

In other news, I totally want this shirt.