No, I don't think I can dance...

As I've mentioned before in this blog, I do a lot of my working out before sunrise in my living room. I've had some very positive experiences with workout DVD's. While the overly enthusiastic presenters often get on my nerves, I like getting pushed further than I would normally push myself. Still, watching the same videos over and over can get tedious. Rather than just buying a bunch of these things (which could easily stink), I decided last week to try renting some from Netflix. I'm a fan...of the idea.

Netflix has a spectacularly large selection of workout DVD's. You can browse through over 1,100 videos offering everything from prenatal yoga, kickboxing and boot camps to workouts featuring tennis and (I kid you not) aerobic striptease. The big question, where do you start?

I started with familiar territory. I'd had a great time sweating to The Biggest Loser: Fatburn Yoga, so I thought I might as well stick with discs related to reality programs I often enjoy.

This is the part where I point out that I watch a lot of football, own power tools enjoying camping. In other words, I'm a dude, a manly one. That said, Dad, if you're reading this, stop now before it gets ugly.

The first workout DVD I rented was So You Think You Can Dance: Cardio Funk. I know what you're thinking. Stop. I got interested in the show through my wife (a dancer from age fetus). I like seeing her respond to the performances. Those dancers are superhuman.

All that to say: I rented the video thinking it might be a fun way to get a really good workout. The reality, however, is that the workout was neither very fun nor very high impact. I felt much, much sillier trying to follow along with the "choreography" here than I ever did playing karate kid with the Budokon disc I tried a while back. At least with that disc I broke a sweat! I understand that they had to dumb down all the movements to make them achievable by non-dancers such as myself, but the result was a workout so diluted that it barely earned that distinction.

I like the idea of trying a workout disc out before I buy it. I'll definitely be searching the Netflix library again in the future. I won't, however, being doing back to this particular disc ever again.

Sorry, Dad.

Weekly Weighin: Are you kidding me?

It's Friday, and that means stepping onto the Summit scale for the first time in a week. I don't mind telling you that this is the first week that I haven't felt dread over the proposition. Between last week's zero lose and the fact that I really brought it this week, I knew I was in for a big number. Of course, I was wrong.

Last week I was frustrated by not having lost more weight, but I knew I could only blame myself. I hadn't put in the time at the gym (just two real workouts), and my diet was far from a priority. Bouncing back from that experience, I worked my butt off this week (unfortunately, not literally). Monday and Tuesday I got up early and worked out to the Biggest Loser Weight Loss Yoga (it may sound funny but it's not...it's torture). Then, for the first time in about twelve years, I put in three consecutive swim workouts Wednesday, Thursday and this morning. What's more, these weren't wimpy swims. I wasn't just floating for 40 minutes. I was really pushing. I did a number of sprints as part of interval training, and I timed myself on longer distances.

Approaching that scale this morning I felt great. I felt deserving. Then I stepped aboard...and I felt like I'd been kicked in the pants. I lost weight, but it was definitely in decimal form. For the last two weeks I'd weighed in at 206.8 pounds. This morning, the scale read 206.2. For those of you whose calculators don't have room for a decimal (and who didn't excel in middle school math), that means I've only lost one half of a pound in the last week. HALF A POUND!

This puts my weight loss to date at 15 pounds after 10 weeks of working out. I know I should be focusing on that 15, but I can't help but feel the 10 in marrow of my bones.

How does that happen? I worked out. I watch my calories like they were invading enemy forces. I did all the things I was supposed to do. I feel like I got gypped. I know, I know, I should be grateful that I lost something or that I didn't gain weight. I'm not grateful, though, I'm frustrated. How am I supposed to get my lazy butt out of bed at 5:45 to workout, when it hasn't really paid off recently? Wouldn't it just be easier to stay fat and just hang out with my wife and baby?

Don't worry. I haven't given up. I'll be back to work this week. I just hope that next Friday the scale is a little friendlier.

As Fat as Texas

Over the last two months of trying to lose weight and get fit, I've been doing a lot of thinking about my little girl, Sydney. She is so perfect and (thank God) healthy, and I want to make sure that I provide her with a good example of a healthy, active lifestyle. A recent report has me thinking that this is more important than ever.

A group called Trust for America's Health at HealthyAmericans.org recently published this report, tracking the weight statistics of residents of each of the 50 states. They found that Texas ranked 14th for the highest percentage of obese adults (27.9%) and, more tragically, 20th for the highest percentage of overweight or obese children (32.2%).

I don't know what's more horrifying here, that nearly one in three of our kids is overweight to obese, or that that statistic still puts us ahead of thirty other states! The kids tested for this study were aged 10 to 17. In my mind, this is the time in a child's life that they are establishing the habits and behaviors that will follow them most of their lives. Keeping in mind that poor diet and physical inactivity are one of the leading causes of preventable death in America (right behind smoking), we're killing our kids.

To be clear, I don't blame video games, the Internet or "the rap music," for this problem. I blame...us, parents. It's our job to make sure that our kids are being active and eating well. Lord knows, my mom had to use the jaws of life to get me to eat my vegetables, but she did it (most of the time). I wasn't on my knees begging my parents to sign me up for little league, but they did. Way more importantly than that, my parents did a great job of modelling healthy decision making. I can remember my dad jogging at night and promising that I could join him once I was able to run in place for an hour (two episodes of The Cosby Show). Likewise, I have fond memories of my sisters and I Sweatin' to the Oldies alongside my mom (Trust me, it was cool at the time.).

That's the dad I want to be to Sydney, one who doesn't just push her to be healthy, but makes her want to be healthy. I don't know what I can do about the other two out of three Texas kids, but I'm going to make sure she's one of the healthy ones.

I'm proud to say that Temple Parks & Leisure Services has made keeping Temple kids healthy a major priority. The Department offers regular programs to keep kids of all ages active and healthy. Moreover, as part of its expansion, the Summit Family Fitness Center has added a state-of-the-art youth fitness room. I've gotten to go in there a few times, and I have to say, it's pretty awesome. There are stationary bikes that let the kids race with eachother over a connect network, a huge video game dancing program, and an activity wall that challenges kids to hit or throw things at targets as they light up. All of these neat toys combine for a great workout that most kids won't even realize they're getting.

The Biggest Devil

So, I woke up this morning and popped in my new Biggest Loser Yoga for Weight Loss DVD. I'm a huge (literally and figuratively) fan of the show, and I thought if anyone could help me shed the pounds it would be my old friend Bob. I don't know if I lost fat, but I definitely shed a few pounds in tears.

I've done a little bit of yoga before. I remember lots of breathing, some deep stretches and repeatedly struggling to keep my balance. This DVD was not that kind of yoga. Gone were the stretches that encouraged flexibility. Rarely was it a matter of mastering my own balance. This was less about calm breathing and more about...hurting me.

In a previous post I talked about how the super-chipper models in most fitness videos drive me insane. "Isn't this exercise a fun challenge?" No, madam, it's not fun...and now I want to hurt you. Their gleeful expressions during horrible exercises lead me to believe that they are masochistic fools.

Bob, good ol' Bob, he's a different animal. He's not a masochist...he's a proud sadist. At one point, over the sounds of my own agonized grunting, Bob called out (I wish I was kidding.) "I can smell your leg cooking."

Seriously, Bob, that's terrifying. Not only does it convey the fact that you take pleasure in my pain, but it leads me to believe that once my limbs reach the right temperature you very well might kill and eat me. The only thing protecting me right now is the fact that I'm still pretty fat. I'd be way to high calorie of a snack for Bob right now.

An added benefit of this video is that the folks demonstrating the poses behind Bob aren't the underwear models you find in most fitness DVD's. Instead, the background is populated by former contestants on the Biggest Loser. This is great because now I don't have my go-to excuse of, "Well of course I can't do that, just look at that dudes abs. He's smuggling an egg crate!" Instead, I'm actually smaller than some of these folks. I almost typed "in better shape" there, but then I remembered how hard I was crying trying to hold those poses.

Overall, this was a great workout. It really did push me to my physical limits and beyond a few times. I'll definitely pop it in again once I get over the image of Bob Lecter feasting on my roasted quads.

Bosu...Gesundheit

I've written a few times about my morning workout using a fitness DVD. The video came with a piece of fitness equipment my wife and I bought almost a year ago only to pretty much unused until two weeks ago. This workout tool is called a Bosu ball, and for an inanimate object, it's pretty mean.


I was first exposed to the Bosu ball at the Summit Family Fitness Center. They have a few near their stretching station when you first enter the building, and, like a fool, I tried one. The resulting 45 second workout left me sore and fixated on the seemingly simple device.

The principle of the Bosu is that it adds an element of instability to your workout. In other words, movements that would otherwise be quite inane become downright difficult. Where once I would grunt my way through an ab crunch without too much trouble, on a Bosu your body is struggling not just to sit up but to keep you on top of the ball.

The beginners DVD I've been watching using the ball as a base for step aerobics, abdominal and back exercises and as a tool for upper boy moves like push ups. After a few years of dedicated couch-potatoery, I have trouble completing pretty much every segment of the workout. When it's over, though, I feel like I've accomplished something.

I would encourage Summit members to check out their Bosu's. There a few diagrams of example exercises posted near them. I think you'll find, as I have, that by destabilizing your workout, you move the dial up to 11.

For folks you who aren't members of the Summit, you can mirror that practice of destabilization by balancing on one leg while doing ordinary moves like bicep curls or even squats. Just don't hold me accountable for how sore you feel afterwards.

Cardi-No

So, true to my word, I got up at 5:30 this morning and made my way to the Summit Family Fitness Center. Earlier this week I expressed concerns that I would ever be able to really push myself at the gym. This morning I learned that I need not have worried.

I arrived at the Summit with a confidence that I did not possess that first morning. I strode up to the front desk, scanned my membership card, and made my way over to the elliptical. You may recall that this is the part where I have to negotiate a workout with HAL, the super-computer that runs the elliptical matrix. HAL and I may not have gotten along really well upon first meeting, but we're bosom buddies now. On a whim, I decided to that instead of doing either the Fat Burn or Gluteal (I think that means butt) routines, I'd give Heart Rate a try. I've got a heart, right? Seemed like a no-brainer to me.

Here's what HAL didn't tell me. The Heart Rate setting on the elliptical works by selecting an ideal heart rate, something like 70% of the point where your heart would explode in your chest (I'm guessing); then the machine works to keep you at that heart rate. Sounds simple. In fact it's torture.

Fun fact: the word "cardio" comes from the Greek root "card," meaning "heart" and the Latin root "io," meaning "GOOD GOD MAKE IT STOP!!!" Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.

Anyway, back to my ol' friend HAL and his evil ways. I started running on the machine. By putting my hands on the metal bars, HAL was able to keep track of my heart rate. Anytime it dropped below 136 beats per minute (which seems like about 76 too many beats to me), the machine increased the resistance so that I would have to work harder to continue. Of course, I didn't know this going into the workout, so I started going pretty easy. Enraged with my sloth, HAL dropped a virtual mountain in my path. Suddenly I felt like I was trekking through quicksand. Every step was hard. I went from dry to drenched in sweat in the blink of an eye.

Suddenly, my heart rate was going plenty fast, and when the machine cut my mountain in half, I had time to take stock. I was five minutes into a 40 minute workout, and I felt like I was going to die. This wasn't exercise, this was a heart attack drill. I kept waiting to feel a shooting pain in my arm and just drop into the churning gears of HALS hungry robot belly.

I turned to the lady on the machine nearest me.

"Am I supposed to feel like I'm going to die?" I asked her.

She shot me a cheery grin and kept running.

What made matters exponentially worse was that as I got used to the resistance level, my heart rate started to drop...not like on Greys Anatomy, just down from 140 to 136, 135...134!!! Knowing that the guillotine was about to drop, I struggled to get my heart rate back up. Running harder didn't seem to work, so I started just trying to convince my nervous system that we were under attack. I'd just shout out random words.

"Ahhh, bear! Look out for that lion. Dear lord, is that Michael Jackson?!?!"

While these cried did lead to a surprising amount of attention from the other people working out, they did not raise my heart rate even a notch. Maybe if I'd taken out my headphones... Sure enough, HAL dropped my onto the sheer face of Mount Everest.

I made it through, panting and weeping, and with about ten minutes left in the workout the resistance dropped down again to a manageable level. Knowing the pain of having the other shoe drop, I took off running. Holding on to those sensor handles, I pumped my legs on that elliptical, like I was running away from my heart. I was going to keep my heart rate up no matter what. I might have looked a little funny for a few minutes there, but at least I didn't have to do anymore mountain climbing.

I will say, though, that as much as it was torture. I'll probably do the heart rate setting again next time I make it to the Summit. I like feeling pushed. I like feeling like I'm making progress.

This weekend I picked up a new workout DVD for my morning living room sweat sessions. It's yoga for weight loss. It will either be great or great fodder for future blogs. We'll see.

Making Time

Before I started this year-long commitment, I had not consistently gotten exercise in a very long time. The reason, at least the reason I told myself, was that I simply didn't have the time. I realize now that this was untrue, and I think it's this understanding that will make all the difference for me.

The reality is, I've always made time for things less important than fitness. In the mornings, I always had time to watch Sports Center while leisurely eat my sugary breakfast cereal. I've shown great discipline in always making time to watch two to three hours of television at night after work. For the last year, I've even found the time to carve out three hours every Wednesday night to lead the Temple Movie Club (If you aren't going, you should be).

It's not that these things are bad (maybe the sugary cereal part). All this is simply to say that I do have time. It's a question of how I prioritize and spend that time.

My approach so far has been to wake up thirty minutes earlier and work out before my wife and daughter get out of bed. As I have been working out using a DVD these last few days, the early morning schedule has the benefit of shielding me from possible derision at the silly moves I'm no doubt making.

I don't know if I'll be using this morning hours to get my sweat on for the rest of this year. My guess would be that life will continue to change and demand that I make adjustments and changes to my daily ritual. The difference is that from now on, I know there is time for be to make healthy living a priority.

I'm grateful, too, that along with my living room workouts, the Summit Family Fitness Center is open most days from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m.. Those hours are shorter on Friday and weekends, but those aren't the days that I run out of time.

Too Perky for My Blood

My wife has been transitioning back to work after maternity leave, so while trying to get into a morning routine, I've gotten a bit of a late start the last few mornings. Rather than skip a morning workout, though, I've made use of one of the many fitness DVD's in my house (most have been played only once, others less). After two such living room workouts, I've learned two lessons. One, I'm lazy. Two, I'm not perky when it comes time to sweat.

The video I've been using features more than one person doing the workout. One presenter models the moves at a beginner skill level. The other demonstrates how to make the moves more difficult. I don't pay much attention to that second lady. She has nothing to offer me at all. I'm not sure what’s the matter with her, but starting today, I’ll be praying for her.

Still, even doing the simplest versions of the moves, halfway through the workout, I'm hurtin'. If this is what it's supposed to feel like when I go workout on my own...I'm not doing it right. Over and over again I find myself falling behind my onscreen counterparts. By the end of a set, I am sweaty and exhausted. Many times I find myself unsure that I am going to be able to finish the disc. Does this mean that my morning workouts have not prepared me to even watch a DVD?

I guess I haven't been pushing myself hard enough at the gym. I can definitely see now the value of enlisting the services of a personal trainer. I know that the Summit has a number of personal trainers on staff. In fact, I think I may schedule a session with one of them down the road, once I'm confident that I would survive the encounter.

I will say this, though, any personal trainer of mine will not be a morning person. These video instructors drive me up the wall. "This move is a really fun challenge," I'm sorry, madam, but I disagree. I'm having no fun at all right now.

At first, I thought this woman must be some kind of masochist, taking pleasure in the horrible pain of the moves she demonstrates. Then I realized she's no masochist; she's a full-blown sadist, looking into the camera and finding joy in the knowledge that one day her image will drive me to tears in my living room. I don't know how she sleeps at night...probably hanging upside down in a cave.

I guess the issue is that, at least right now, exercise is not fun for me. I hope I get there, but for right now, if a personal trainer ever looked at me and smiled, "Isn't this fun," I'd be done for the day.