Eating in a Chinese Restaurant

I have loved Chinese food all my life. Well, the type of Chinese food you can get in Minnesota anyway.

When I was in high school my friends and I would have lunch at the Minneapolis Nankin as often as we shopped downtown (often I have to say) and I always felt so grown-ass womanlike sitting on the balcony with a little delightful teacup and teapot sitting on our table while I ate pork chow mein and crunched on egg rolls.

Minneapolis Nankin 1958

The whole experience, every time, would make me feel seriously grownup and I would take my little paper box home with me and eat the leftovers directly out of the box like I had seen in movies shot in New York where all New Yorkers could order takeout (there was no such thing as Chinese delivery when I was in high school)

My momma loved to eat at the House of Wong in St. Paul (the website says Roseville, which is technically true). She and I ate there hundreds of times and when my girls got old enough I took them there with us.

I had a girlfriend when I was in my 20s and she and I would meet for lunch there every week. We both worked nights at the time and it was a great way to catch up and have leftovers to bring to work. In a little paper box.

When my mom was so sick back in 2004 I would bring take out from House of Wong to her house in North Branch, Minnesota on most Sundays and we would eat out of the little paper boxes. So good. Some really good memories for me now that she is gone.

Not much to look at on the outside, but awesomeness on the inside.

We still go there and now it's Pup and his momma I drag with me. Momma Betty loves her some chicken chow mein and Pup is a big fan of their turkey dinner. I know, I know. He isn't a fan of Chinese so Momma B and I are happy he has something to eat when we go there.

Last night Pup, Momma Betty, Lorenzo, and I headed out. It had been planned for a week or so, but I was thinking all week, "what will I order??" Let's face it, Chinese isn't the best choice when you're starting a new and whole food approach to your eating.

I poked around the menu a while and found that egg foo yong isn't a bad choice at all. Made of mostly vegis and eggs it seemed perfect. I had a bit of rice along with it as well. Stayed away from the fried rice (which I'd arm wrestle you for normally).

Came away from the experience with a full tummy and a guilt-free mind. And a little paper box.

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Sexy Sadie

Pup and I are about to book an April trip. He works long and hard hours during the tax season and this year we are heading someplace (it's getting narrowed down) where there will be lots of beach, lots of sun, lots of theme drinks, lots of shopping, and maybe even lots of golf.

We are Minnesotans. We are pale, chubby, and not beach ready in the least. Not that all Minnesotans look like this, but enough do that I sometimes hear our part of the country talked about in a not so flattering light. I have amused myself many times in Las Vegas by picking out the people I'm certain are from Minnesota. They are usually wearing bad t-shirts and fanny-packs around largish bellies.

So . . . I am in a competition with a co-worker. We are getting to our fighting-weight and competitive bodies for our April trips. I'm trying to get Pup to participate as well.

Better eating, better exercise, and better feeling. And hopefully better looking.

Here is what I aspire to . . .

I stumbled on this just a few minutes ago while cleaning out my photo-log in my blog folder. I was struck by it once again.

This photo made the rounds a few months ago and I remember marveling when I saw it. A woman of a certain age, looking a certain way. A hot, non-bobblehead kind of body.

Helen - will you be my poster-girl?

Helen Mirren

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Accountability and Challenge

I am doing my final here at home today.

In class yesterday we were all talking about our different test-taking styles and it was discovered that about half of the class would prefer testing in the classroom and the other half would prefer testing at home.

I am testing at home! Eee gads and awesome. The exam is online and open book, so what difference does it make? I'm so happy.

When I am taking a test I'm good until that first person turns in their test. Then I can't stop thinking how I may be the last one standing (sitting?). The brain starts giving me background noise and I begin losing focus.

Yes, ridiculous. Who cares if you're last? Tell that to my brain.

Wish me luck. I'll be locking myself in a bit later in the day.

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I am also beginning a personal fitness challenge, but I would LOVE anyone who would care to join me.

Goals are simple; pick whatever goal it is you desire. Mine is eating mindfully and daily exercise with a weight-loss and fitness goal in mind. I have a gadget on the right for my tracking. Does anyone know of a spiff tracking gadget we can use?

Begin it to win it!

I'll host a cyber-party for all peeps that join the challenge. Ideas are encouraged!

Here are a couple of my favorite links for help.

Mark's Daily Apple

Kelly Olexa

Brad Pilon

Let's kick it and get legendary!

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Thrifting a Go-Go

These mystery cuties came in a set together along with a coffee carafe, although I'm certain that the little things have nothing to do with coffee. That's just the way they grouped them at the thrift store for me to w00t!

Anyone know what these might be? 60s in origin I know and I'm guessing that the two larger ones would hold oil and vinegar respectively, but what are the little ones for?

LOVE THESE!

Bonus - I rode my bicycle to do my thrifting. It was totally gorgeous out and I had just read a message from Craig Ballantyne (personal trainer in my head along with Jackie Warner) saying there really are no good excuses. So off I went, peddling away. I can't remember the last time I rode my bicycle to actually do an errand. It felt weird and cool.

While I was locking my bike to a pole in front of the store a VERY large man came walking toward me smiling away saying 'good for you!' and how he should be doing the same thing. I hope he does.

Riding my bike with its little front basket totally truncated any impulse purchases. You know the ones - the purchases that immediately, if not sooner, find their way back into a donation bag I keep in the utility room to bring to the donation center. My personal way to recycle.

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Mornings with Moaning and Whining

I got up, stole one of Pup's t-shirts, and went down, down to the Dungeon. Waded through the little spider webs that pop up daily (oh that's so ick), and did my morning workout. Watched the news as well. A tofer. I'm toned here AND there.

I keep forgetting where to breath. Inhale on the approach; exhale on the effort. Sometimes I forget to breath altogether.

It's very easy to talk myself out of going down there because, well, because I'm ME after all, but habits are developed with repetition so I am a repeating BORE at this point.



Don't laugh! You'll be jealous when MY arse is hard and round as an apple. Or is it a peach? Men's asses are apples and women's are peaches yes? No wonder I'm confused. That is way too much fruit.

It's all good.

It's all good until I go upstairs to make my COFFEE and look what I see.

Yep, yesterday's laundry. Still hanging on the line.

Is there something I can do to stretch my mind? Ha!

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Fitness

Something happened on the way to summer.

It's here, we're in the throws of it and something hasn't been happening.

FITNESS!

Bike - in garage. Waiting.
George - in backyard. Waiting.
Me - at the chubby table. Waiting.

I exaggerate of course. Kinda.

I've been in my Dungeon of Torture several times a week this summer. Lifting my lady-weights, doing my squats with tush tightened, trying to hold a plank for one minute (20 seconds peeps - 20 flippin' seconds! grr and arg), crunches (oh the nausea), doing my cheatin' pushups (NO upper body strength I'm afraid - workin' it), and . . . more than several times now . . .

Callanetics



Google it if you dare. :)

Yes, I've been rockin' that. No, I'm not wearing a leotard. I don't even own a leotard! Although my hair can look like I have a bad 80s perm.

But now it's on.

Heff (over at HBAG) has started a challenge with a man-bud of his and I think it's a good thing for me to jump on. Not to compete with them, but to kick it to the next level with myself.

Along with this self-challenge is eating for fitness. And lessness. I have my fitness eating plan picked. More about that soon.

I'm out there every day, reading The Anti-Jared, Mark Sisson, Kelly Olexa, Brad Pilon. I'm WISHING my friend T (are you there T?) would start a blog. She is the rockinest of the fit. Think about it girl. Those of us that are fluffy and not tuffy need you.

There is tons of motivation out there and tons of advice and tons of great success stories. I am challenging myself to be a story.

So - off I go to lace up my Asics and walk that chubby dog.

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The Wrecking Ball: Renewed and Improved

Day One
I am sitting in my office this rainy a.m. Pets are snoring away. Hubbins is snoring away up in the loft. I am drinking my coffee (COFFEE!) in my jammies, doing my morning readings and thinkings.

Spring! Yes, I believe it really is coming.

Daylight Savings Time has hit, making us all groggy and cranky, but the underlying feeling is YES! I just might live through this winter without being sent to the loony bin or getting so fat I can't sit in an airline seat.

Naturally makes me rethink my wrecking ball.

It's been swinging away for a couple of months, but there hasn't been any bite in its force. So now it's day one babies.

As I said in Vegas to my band of buds - I swear by all that is unholy that I am going to get healthy and happy and skinny. Let's kick some winter ass.
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Minnesotaoans are funny little critters. When Spring hits the air we go crazy! After being cooped up in our cars, our offices, our houses for months, when the sun gets hotter and the temperature goes above freezing, we break out our sweaters, our convertibles, and our happy faces.

This past weekend was like that.

In truth, it is an ugly time of year around here. When the snow melts it uncovers all the sins of fall past. All the things you didn't get to when it started snowing. The yard is full of doggy-bombs, soggy leaves, dead weeds, and brown grass. UGLY!

But you get this itch. An itch to get out there and rake that ugly brown lawn, pick up those bombs, feel the sun on your face. Smell that air? That's the sweet smell of warm air freedom.

I am breaking out my bike, Allie style. Time for the use it or lose it challenge. I am challenging myself.

Image courtesy of nataliedee.com

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The Club Grunters

Lorenzo (DD2) and I headed with conviction over to the free weight part of our club last night where the grunters live.

This part of the club scares the living hell out of me. It's full of over-muscled men and women that glance at softer versions of the humans they represent with pity and scorn (I could be overstating - ha!).

Okay - but they do look at less muscled peeps with some sort of judging eyes (and they are not even wearing the judging sunnies I need to wear everywhere I go these days). This fear speaks to my state of mind more than it speaks to theirs. Trust me. I'm a fearful girl.

So, we wander over there like we know what we want to do, and we do know what we want to do. We want the 5 and 8 lb free weights to hold while we do some lunges. And we do. It's all cool.

But while we are counting our lunges in our sets we are desperately trying to not listen to the GRUNTING that is going on. Serious sounds coming out of everyone! Red faces contorted and veins bulging. I got scared for a different reason! I thought I was going to have to run and get an attendant.

But no. No one else was concerned about the vocalization going on. What's up with the grunting? Does it help? Is it like bitching about the weather - you just have to do it to blend in?

I kept thinking it was like having a baby in a way. I had two babies with no drugs (hey, it was the 80s). While in labor each time I could feel that if I let go and let the pain take over by screaming I'd never come back. I felt better breathing and staying on top of the pain.

I can't help feeling that lifting is like that. That it would be better for the grunters to breath into their lifting and save that energy expended by grunting and put it into the lift.

But what do I know? I look like this when working out.

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Gym Dandy to the Rescue

So, I've been going to the club on a REGULAR basis for three weeks now. The resolutioners I spoke of are out in lovely abundance. I love each of their chubby butts. Including mine.

I am puzzled a bit though dear readers (you're out there I know it!) - the peeps that are on the stationary bikes, what are they doing exactly? Already I've noticed a select group of the same people on the bikes that are reading the paper. Can you really work hard and read the paper? I know I'm in the gender that can multitask, but reading the paper and sweating just does not seem to go hand in sweaty hand.

But there they sit, reading away. Dudes and Dudettes! Just buy a stationary bike and park it in front of your TV if that's what you want to do.

Already I'm all self-righteous aren't I? I have resolutioners fever.

For me - I'm an elliptical girl. I used to hate that damn machine and ran faithfully to the treadmill. But my ortho guy said elliptical and now I'm getting a bit obsessed about it. Quell surprise! Ha!

So I have my earbuds in, listening to the Rod Stewart that was in The Faces, looking around at my fellow rats.

Observations:

1. A few men who suffer from 70s-itis. No lie. Could those shorts be any shorter??
2. Why all the "skullets"?
3. Fellow chubs wearing sweatshirts. Again, Dude!, you'll be sweating here. You're not fooling anyone
4. All young uns are cute
5. Trainers like me. Because I'm a challenge? My elliptical wit? My bright, shining face that is becoming a regular?
6. Lots of machine-jumpers

Love it!

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The Resolutioners

You know them. They crowd into your gym, hogging all the ellipticals, not following the rules, sitting their bare arses on the benches in the locker room (true - this happened to me).

They eat and drink like mad the last week of the year then swear they will change now.

They clean closets, clean their cars, clean their minds.

I'm one. I never want to be one, but I am.

As much as it is cliché to start anew at this time of the year, what better time to do it? It's good. It's time. It's the thing to do.

I'm only smug because I started a few weeks ago. Resolutions for the new year are so 2009. Ha!

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The mii Bitch

Here she is. She looks all sweet and innocent, but she gets her arse kicked on a daily basis in whatever she is doing.

Seriously though, she is kind of cute yes? She is my constant companion lately. I play golf with her, I bowl with her, I do a humiliating balancing act with her. I let her holler insults at me while she measures my BMI.

I'll get her the little wii mii.

I have to admit I like it when she says, "You're strong! You have good balance"! She looks just like me.

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Addicted to Exercise

Wow! This is some kind of crazy.

I am reading my Google Reader listings this morning and making my six-week plan when this pops up in one of my body training blogs. Whoo doggies. I get the concept, but the execution could cause lips a flappin' in a few families.

I'll keep this one in the back of my mind for the time being. Maybe forever.

Is it wrong that I am laughing my arse off at the moment? I'm certain this guy is dead serious about his workout. Oh dear the squirting tears.

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