Public Wedgie Picking

You do things your way. I'll do them mine.
Photo Credits: Web Undies

Don't get your panties in a twist or your boxers in a bunch or your thong in a... well, since a thong's defining characteristic is that it's already twisted AND bunched never mind, I guess, because we are going there. We're talking undies today.

It all started when I forgot that Wednesdays are Spin days and showed up at the gym in my running shorts - the kind with attached mini bike shorts underneath that sound really nifty in theory but in practice made me realize that there was a reason I got them for $9.99 at Marshall's despite being labeled Adidas.

Like the good sport I am, I figured that the shorts (heretoafter referred to as the "wedgie-o-matic") would manage and I'd still get my sweat on - low aerobically of course since I'm Primal and all that. I hopped on, tuned in to the techno and started to spin my way down the Tour de Nowhere.

I Was Wrong
About 1/3 of the way into the class I began to notice that the fatty bits at the top of my thighs, which you know how much I love, were getting very chafed. The fakie under shorts were not doing their prescribed duty and I was getting irritated. In more ways than one. As I always do in such situations, I complained to Gym Buddy Allison who suggested I take my sweat towel and put it over the seat to protect my legs.

Any reasonable soul would think "no way - I'd look stupid!" especially considering my towel is red with pink and white hearts all over it. I'm not reasonable and apparently I like looking stupid because I did it and it totally helped. Until I stood up to climb an imaginary hill, that is, and it fell on the floor.

"What do I do?" I pleaded to Allison.

"Try sticking your towel down your shorts! You know, so it comes out your legs," she suggested helpfully and with such sincerity that it took a good 30 seconds before we both fell off our bikes laughing.

UnderWHERE?
I don't know if this is such an issue for men, never having asked any of the male Gym Buddies about what's under their Umbros, but I know it looms large for women. "That time of the month" aside, there are many issues to consider with underwear.

1. To wear or not to wear? I am personally a fan but I do know several of the female Gym Buddies who feel supported enough by their yoga pants (and hate panty lines enough) to forgo the Victoria Secrets. But every time I'm tempted to go commando, I remember one aerobics teacher I had years ago who split her shorts doing a deep squat only to reveal that not only did she not like bikini bottoms but avoided bikini waxes as well. I'm still traumatized. And let's not forget Workout Mommy's nasty discovery of the bacteria that causes yeast infections on gym bike seats.

2. Fashion or function? If you do go the covered route, it best be wicking is all I can say. Whether you like the pricey "sport" underwear or are fine, like me, with plain ol' cotton, everyone should avoid fancy underpants. I saw a girl in booty shorts once snag her lace undies while hopping off a bike seat. We will talk another day about wearing shorts so short that onlookers can see you are wearing lace undies. While you are standing.

3. Polka dots or plain? I'm of the opinion that if someone is accidentally going to get a free upskirt at my expense, say while I'm on the back extension, they might as well get their money's worth. So I go all out with the bright colors and funny patterns. Plus it just makes me happy to know I have Felix the Cat waving from my posterior, even if I'm the only one who waves back.

4. High cut or boy cut? The style varieties are endless. You have your basic bikini cut. Your hipster. Your boy shorts. Your hi-cut. Your thong. Your brief. Your granny panty that I'm hoping none of you own. And who can forget these? I myself have several varieties from which I select depending on the activity I will be doing. I won't elaborate but let's just say that Hanes ought to sponsor me, I'm so familiar with their product line.

Now that I've (not) bared all - what's under your shorts?

What's Under Your Gym Shorts? Commando and proud of it! Tighty whities - simple is best. The latest and greatest from Nike. Whatever comes attached to my shorts. Hipster boy shorts with polka dots AND a funny saying Thong, baby. I love wedgies. view results

I have created an anonymous poll for you shy folk.

Kids Will Be Kids

Second Son (4 years old): Whatdahet?? (his favorite nonsensical eptithet - heaven help me when he learns real cuss words) I am SO FAT! Just look at me!

First Son (5 years old): Yeah, well I'm super skinny. Look at my bones everywhere! I'm just a little boy wasting away! (Oh the drama.)

My blood ran cold as I listened to two of my sons discussing their figures over lunch. Where was this coming from? What had I done wrong? Had they overheard something that I said to someone? Overheard a friend's mom? Had I mistakenly assumed, even though I know it's not true, that because I have boys I don't need to worry about body image? I'm careful to never speak of my struggles with food or self image in front of them. I weigh myself with bathroom door locked. I try not to verbally criticize anything on my body in front of them, even if I'm thinking it. But somehow, some of it had obviously leaked through the cracks. I shivered. How had this happened? The little buggers can't even read yet!

In the time honored tradition of parenting, I always knew I would warp my kids in one way or another but I'd always hoped it would be a penchant for bad musical theater or laughing at inappropriate moments. But not this. Please anything but this. The only thing worse than hating yourself is watching your child hate on their little unblemished self. What should I say to them? As I was cutting apples into slices, my back to them, I could only listen as they continued.

Second Son: Look at my big fat cheeks and my wubba chin! (Don't ask me what a wubba chin is.)

First Son: I'm a skeleton! Seriously!! (And yes, the second son IS bigger than his older brother.)

It was at this point I finally turned around, heart in my throat. Only to be confronted with my two boys staring at their reflections in their soup spoons. The eldest was looking at the inside of his spoon which distorted his image from Jimmy Neutron to Agyness Deyn (which is not that far of a leap now that I think about it. Consider the hair. And the fondness for ugly shorts).















The middle child was checking himself out - and grinning like the Cheshire Cat - in the back of his spoon, his childishly round cheeks now full-on Alfred Hitchcock jowels.

I sagged with relief.

Second Son: I'm so fat I eated a hundred cookies!
First Son: "You ate a hundred cookies."
Second Son: I know! I eated a hundred cookies and fifty meatballs.
First Son: Shut up, you're saying it wrong! "Eated" is baby talk!
Second Son: I am not a baby! You shut up!
First Son: No YOU SHUT UP!
Second Son: SHUT UP!!!

Now that all was right again in my preschool universe where shirts are kleenexes and underwear is considered optional, I wanted to relax in knowing that my boys had no idea what loaded words they were flinging around. But I couldn't because I know that this conversation will happen again. Probably sooner rather than later. And I still don't know what to say.

Please boys, don't be like Mommy?

All of you parents (or just people with strong opinions about parenting) help me out here! How do you talk about weight & food & body image with your kids? Is the subject verboten? Do you let them see you weigh yourself? What about when they ask why you are eating different food than they are? Do you point out scary skinny people in magazines? What do you say when your child points at an obese woman riding in one of those scooters at the store and asks why she gets to ride it when she's so big she's going to break it (yeah, true story. And he was LOUD.)? How do you explain good nutrition to them without becoming the nutrition nazi? Any help is much appreciated. My mommy angst thanks you.

Why Teens Diet

Total Heartbreak Doll by Zosomoto

Blame it on their friends! (Don't we always?) But wait, it's not that simple.

In all of my writing about my struggles with anorexia, orthorexia and general bad-self-image-exia, I have come to notice something interesting. Particularly something interesting about you. Every time I write about eating disorders or the pressure to be thin, the majority of you sympathize right along with me but there are always a few - and probably more in the lurkers section, Hi Guys!!! - that seem to have no idea what I'm talking about.

Allie, commenting on Functional Anorexia, sums up the oft repeated sentiment:

Man. I read things like this and wondered how in the world I made it through my teenage years having relatively little idea about eating disorders, or worrying about being thinner.

Frankly, I was as baffled too. For me, the culture of thin was omnipresent growing up. I can't remember ever not caring about my weight. Most of my friends were subsumed in the same way. And yet it was different for some of you. I think I might have an answer.

Goths, Preps, Mods, Jocks, Stoners, Slackers and Beanie Baby Collectors
According to a new study from the Children's National Medical Center in D.C., which peer group a girl most identifies with greatly influences her body image attitudes and dieting behaviors. So you can call your mom and say "I told you so" - apparently it IS that important who you sat next to in the cafeteria.

Want to know the group most at risk for disordered eating? I'll wait for you to write down your guesses. You will be surprised. Cheerleaders with their tiny skirts and high-flying tricks? Nope. Cross country runners who are known for their litheness and speed? No again. The Perfect Girls who wore only Abercrombie & Fitch (or Girbauds in my day) and shopped for a living? No, no, no.

This may be one of the saddest sentences I have ever had to write: the girls most at risk for low self esteem and disordered eating were the girls who associated with no group. The loners. The losers. The outcasts. It makes sense in a slit-my-wrists kind of way. Because what better way to try and fit in to a culture that rejects you then to embrace their predominant ideal?

The next most likely group to be disordered were the ones who identified themselves as "alternatives," meaning those who put themselves outside the mainstream as "non-conformists" which at my school meant the artsy kids, the drama kids (who were also stoners), the hippie kids (who were also stoners), the skaters (who were also stoners), the straight-edgers (who would beat you up if you were a stoner), the punks (who loved stoners) and the goths (who avoided drugs because it might take the edge of their pain).


Me? I started in the former group (the loners) and moved to the latter (the goths). No wonder I was messed up! I picked the two worst groups to be in as far as body image was concerned - which I would have heartily denied at the time despite the fact that many of my friends were active cutters and/or spent a lot of time listening to The Cure. Not to mention the alcoholics. Let's just say I've heard more than my fair share of bad poetry.

The Others
Girls who identified as "Jocks", had relatively few body image or dieting problems, seemingly unconcerned about their weight. Hard to be a State champion sprinter if you're listless, weak and cold all the time. (But add a side order of eyeliner and you've got Emo to go!)

The "Burnouts," defined as the girls who "skipped school and often got into trouble" provided the only moment of humor in this study by recognizing that while their peers probably highly valued beauty and thinness, they couldn't be bothered to care. Probably because they had other things to worry about. Like juvie.

Conclusions
The part that I found most fascinating about this research was that it didn't matter which group the girls actually fell into but only which group they most identified themselves with. So the Homecoming Queen might end up bingeing and purging in the locker room despite her popularity because she identifies herself as a loner while the geek with head gear might actually graduate with her self esteem intact because she has three really awesome friends and knows it.
It tells me that we need to be paying a lot more attention to how girls define themselves and less to how they define each other. We need to be looking less at how they stare at celebrities and more at what they see when they look in the mirror.

And we need to get more of our girls in sports. (But not gymnastics or figure skating. But that's another story for another day.)

New Experiment: I'm Going Primal

Jane - modeling the Primal equivalent of the thong.
(Victoria's Secret please note the lack of visible ribs on Maureen O'Sullivan. Thank you.)

For the month of July, I'm going Primal! (Every time I say that I want to yodel.) Basically, this means I'm going to eat, drink & be merry just like our pre-agrarian ancestors. Clubbing and hair dragging is optional I hear.

Mark & Co. over at Mark's Daily Apple finally said the magic words to me: "We challenge you." (What you thought it was "please"?). I've been toying around with pieces of their Primal Blueprint for about a year now and have been complaining - sometimes louder than others - that it doesn't work for me. I've played the gender card, the vegetarian card, the cardio queen card and even the grains-are-the-staff-of-life card to which they've listened politely, patted my head and went on their ab-tastic way.

This is Mark, aged 54. The man eats fat like its going out of style, does no cardio and looks like this. Seriously.

But the thing that keeps bringing me back (besides some of the smartest commenters on the web - second only to you guys) is that they just seem to make so much sense. There's been a lot of research coming out on this type of nutrition recently and so when they threw down their 30-day challenge I figured - hey, it can't be worse than anything else I've tried!

At first, since being a veg girl is one of my defining characteristics, I thought I'd try and do the challenge without eating meat. I'll pause while the idiocy of that last statement settles in. The paleo/primal diet eschews all grains. So take out meat and I'd be left with vegetables and nuts. And we all remember where that leads.

To make it a fair experiment, I'm going to give their Primal Blueprint 100%. I'm eating meat for July. The things I'll do in the name of a good experiment. But wait, there's more!

Primal Food
No grains. Grains are poison. I think that pretty much sums it up.

If you want more detail, try to keep your carbs at or below 100 grams a day and get the majority of those carbs from a variety of fruits and vegetables.

Yes, please
Eat as many veggies as you want. Watch the starchy ones though so you stay under 100g of carbs per day. Eat loads of fish, seafood & meat. And don't worry about it being lean. Suck the marrow out of the bones and eat the organs if it makes you happy (although I think I just threw up a little bit). Fat is your new best friend. And the primal folk don't care about it being saturated or high in cholesterol either for which they have some science-y reasoning that you can read if you're interested. Load up on nuts (but not peanuts as they are technically a legume and not a nut), fry your eggs in butter and go to work licking the steak grease off your fingers.

In moderation
Go easy on the fruit.

For the 30-day trial they recommend avoiding all dairy although once you are at a happy weight/body fat percentage then they say it's okay to have a little of the high-quality stuff like cottage cheese or Greek yogurt every now and then. I had a little cheese going away party this weekend. As I discovered when I went Vegan, I can do without drinking milk just fine. I can also live without "chunk cheese." But I will truly mourn the temporary loss of my Greek yogurt and double-creme brie.

Also, try to limit the beans. I know they keep you regular but they're high in carbs and have something scary in them called an anti-nutrient, which might one of the awesomest pseudo-science words I've ever read.

No, thank you
No sugar. Oh come on, you knew that one was coming! It's the simplest carb there is! And of course you know alcohol is a sugar, right? Also, no grains or anything made from grains. And by the way, corn is a grain and not a vegetable.

This Is Not Atkins
Besides the no dairy, the Primal Diet places an emphasis on eating foods as our ancestors did. It isn't enough that something is "low carb" but it needs to be quality, real food. Atkins bars - big no, no. They are especially concerned with the quality of meat, urging everyone to eat grass fed AND finished beef, wild raised AND caught fish and, of course, organic fruits and veggies. Yes, they suffer from the same California delusion as the rest of that state so just do your best to keep things as natural as you can.

Primal Exercise
In a nutshell: CrossFit

According to the Primal Blueprint, cavemen worked out by walking loooong distances slowly
interspersed with the occassional all out run-ma-the-puma's-coming maximal sprint. They recommend throwing in the low kind of cardio whenever you feel like it with the sprints 2-3 times per week for about 10 minutes. Grok, their moniker for the heavy-browed set, would also have heaved a lot of heavy stuff around. So do weight training but make it heavy and make it functional. Another great option is the Monkey Bar Gym.

The Gym Buddies and I will be sticking with CrossFit as it covers the weights and the sprinting so we don't have to think to much about it all. But of course we will keep our Hip Hop dance class and Turbokicking. I'm sure Grok danced. Mating ritual, anyone?

Bonus!
Aaron, of The Daily Apple, has kindly offered his services to us as a Primal guide. He will answer your questions and even allow you to post your thoughts/struggles/successes and so forth on their website. So e-mail him at aaronprimal AT gmail DOT com. And don't worry, for all of their chest thumping and massive pecs, they really are some of the nicest, most patient people on the 'net. They have been putting up with me for a year now, after all.

So, who's in with me?

Jillian Michaels Can Kick My Butt

But she can't make me dinner. That pretty much sums up my reaction to June's Jillian Michaels' Making the Cut experiment.

The Food
I have weird taste. I admit that. But tastes issues aside, her food plan sucked. Problemo numero uno: the insanely low daily calorie allotment. She expected me to not only wake up every morning and take care of my house and kids but to work out on my BMR: a measly 1300 calories a day. Even refugee camps provide 1800.

Secondly, I don't know if I buy her whole "oxidation type" theory. I (kinda) get the science behind it but just because something sounds scientifically correct doesn't make it so. There are a lot of variables in metabolism and upping my carb intake by a lot didn't help my weight or my muscle at all.

Third, the food tasted terrible. Not to mention the overabundance of mercury-contaminated large fish (one day in my menu plan called for 6 oz. of swordfish followed up the next day with the same - the FDA recommends avoiding swordfish altogether as it is one of the most heavily contaminated fish in the ocean.)

Fourth, she came from a totally California rich girl mentality where organic produce grows on trees (hee!) and tempeh is at the corner gas station.

The Exercise
This part was obviously Jillian's field of expertise. She provided two new workouts per week, each repeated twice. The exercises were varied and worked out the entire body. She relied mostly on tried-and-true body builder standards like the squat and the bench press but added in some novelties I'd never tried before.

At first I thought her workouts were too easy until you guys pointed out to me that I could do them twice in a row. Once the Gym Buddies and I did that, we consistently got our butts kicked. Although I had to up all her recommended weights, speeds and inclines.

The one thing I didn't like, and I know I'm being nit picky here, was that her exercise program felt a little bit "old school" and not in a good way. Her reliance on the Swiss ball and push-pull technique were all very hot a few years ago but have since been relegated to the what-were-we-thinking bin. It was only after I looked back at the copyright date that I realized the book actually is several years old. So it was probably cutting edge... when it came out. (So don't ask me why they are marketing it like it's new now.)

My Results
Weight: +9 FREAKING pounds (but we've already discussed that that was probably due to the over training and not to Ms. Michaels)
Body fat: +2% (sigh)
Measurements (ready for some weirdness?)
Waist: -1/2 inch (after gaining 9 lbs???)
Arm: +3/4 inch - goooooo biceps!
Hips: +1.5 inches
Butt: +1 inch (which I admit that I kind of like. I don't have much of a butt usually)
Thigh: +1.25 inches

Gym Buddy Allison's weight and measurements stayed constant.

My Conclusions
There was nothing really exciting or earth shattering in here. The strength of the book lies in Ms. Michaels' considerable charisma. I loved her honesty about how hard she and other H'wood types work for their physiques. I loved her no-nonsense no-coddling here tone. And, since I now own the book, I will probably continue to use some of her workouts (slightly adapted, natch) to break up my routine. But the food plan - blech. And I have to say that I will NOT miss her smirk on her cover photo. Seriously, after a few days I started turning it over just so she'd stop looking at me like that.

I know a bunch of you tried this one with me - what were your thoughts? Results? Anyone end up with Jillian's abs??

Hey, It's My Birthday!

We gonna party like it's my birthday...



I'm 30 today!! Or, as my dad likes to remind me, I'm officially part of The Establishment. Yipee!

Coming Monday: End of Jillian Michaels (the experiment, not the woman. At least I hope she's okay. If she turns up dead I had nothing to do with it. Nothing, I tell you!) ANNNNDDDD... New experiment time! Woot, woot!

Dieting - The Great Equalizer

The scene: Ten women seated around a conference table. Cameras and microphones recorded our every word and gesture. Diet paraphernalia was scattered around like so much detritus. Six obese women faced four thin ones. We eyed each other warily across water bottles, coke cans and a plate of mostly untouched cookies.

Two older, very overweight women pointed at Allison and I and whispered behind their hands. I couldn't tell what they were saying but the message came across clear enough. I was embarrassed and felt suddenly defensive. A few of the other women stared. One buried her face in a magazine and hid in the corner. Two of them hit the cookie platter that seemed like a strange feature to have at such a meeting. I waited for a hidden camera to be exposed. And the meeting hadn't even started yet.

West Side Story - Weight Watchers style
We were all there to be part of a paid focus group on weight loss programs (we have already discussed how I sell out) and the only criteria was that we were women who had ever tried a weight loss product. Other than that, we came from all races, ages, socioeconomic strata and even BMIs.

Ostensibly we were there to merely discus our reactions to a new weight loss program marketing campaign - which I can't write about per the confidentiality agreement I signed - but to do that we pretty much had to bear our souls, insecurities and all, to a bunch of strangers. Weight loss is very personal.

At last, I cleared my throat and said to the woman next to me, "You have the prettiest red hair I have ever seen!" And it really was: auburn, curly, well-moisturized. The hair I have many times tried to dye my hair to be like, before I decided forever forsake my desired Ariel in favor of my natural Snow White.

She grinned. "I was thinking of dyeing it but..."

"Oh you shouldn't! It's just gorgeous!"

The mood lightened a little. Then we got down to the business of introducing ourselves. We were supposed to say the diet programs/products we had tried and why. A young woman across the room started, "I have an 18-month old son and I just... can't lose the weight. I've tried everything. Right now I'm on Atkins. And it's working. When I stick to my plan. Which lasts about two weeks." She dropped her eyes in shame and her voice quivered. "I just want to be healthy but its so hard, you know?"

Group Focus Therapy Night
Immediately every woman in the room spoke up to comfort her and sympathize. And from then on we were all on the same team. Previous prejudices were forgotten as we unraveled our torrid dieting histories. I'd tell you everyone's stories except they were all the same: weight lost and regained, exultation followed by embarrassment and depression, and then desperation leading us all to the aisles of our nearest GNC/grocery store/weight loss center in search of the balm that would heal us and allow us to be the person on the outside that we were on the inside. No matter what our skin color or even our weight was, we all had this in common.

It was painful. It hurt listening to everyone else's stories, especially the one woman who spoke so glowingly about every diet she'd ever tried from Herbalife to Slimfast to Jennie Craig gushing, "It really worked for me! It was really great! It really was!" only to add, "It's me that's bad. I just keep gaining the weight back again. See?" And she took another cookie and ate it, whether in defeat or defiance I couldn't tell.

It also hurt telling my own story. I forget how freakin' crazy I sound until I say it all out loud. There I was in my size 0 jeans, talking about how I always feel fat and how grocery shopping is a positively excruciating experience for me because I must read every label and compare every product, paralyzing myself with indecision (for reals - ask my husband if he likes grocery shopping with me. He'll drop bowling balls on his foot and light his hair on fire in response.)

The worst moment for me was when the group moderator asked us, "What was it that first got you interested in diet (or "health" as they kept calling it) products in the first place?" I didn't know how to answer her because for me there never was a "first" time. I've never not been interested in weight loss products. I honestly cannot recall a time, even as a child, when I thought I was okay just "as is."

Nobody Got Knifed
Dieting and weight loss are the lowest common denominator for women in our society. Go to any locker room (as Leslie can attest) or Girl's Night Out or scrapbooking party and you will find it. It's a strange thing though because it isn't socially acceptable to be "on a diet" anymore. So we hide it from each other or poke fun at ourselves or even, sometimes, break down and cry on a shoulder about it. We rebel against the restrictions of our diets together on New Year's Eve only to become weight-loss buddies first thing New Year's Day. Occasionally we sabotage each other. We laugh about it, blog about it, cry about it, write books about it and call our sisters about it because in the end, we all speak the language.

I'm not saying it's right. I'm not saying it's wrong either. After the group concluded, Allison and I walked out to our cars with the two women who had been so hostile towards us at the beginning. We were chatting like old friends, sharing recipes and websites - and of course, which protein bars tasted the most like real chocolate.