Fitness: How Far is Too Far?

Hello Non-Honeymoonin' Sue!

Palau is hot. The Lawyer and I have been thinking about our honeymoon but have not been able to even really narrow down our list - there is too much to see! However I have decided that, wherever we go, we will end our honeymoon in Munich for Oktoberfest. I mean obv I will not miss the perfect chance to spend a little more time with my ancestors... remember these dudes?

If they don't ooze "romantic honeymoon" I don't know who does!

Though frankly the thought of drinking lots of beer makes me feel a little ill right now, because I am still recovering from my session with Colossus yesterday. During which I puked my guts out (if you will recall from my tweet).

Now if I do recall, you recently made a friend of yours honk, correct? Ahem, if I may quote you directly from your tweet: "Sue went to the gym with her friend, Kat, and put her through Sue's strength training routine. Kat threw up. Poor Kat. Mean Sue."

All this exercise-induced hurling as got me thinking. Are we going too far? Pushing ourselves too hard? How hard is too hard? (MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, SUE! I MEAN FIGURATIVELY HARD!)

Granted, I probably should not have eaten a full breakfast of eggs, bacon, and sausage yesterday a mere few hours before my workout. And it was the first real workout I'd done with Colossus in awhile, and he basically put me through a death circuit. But still. I am not thrilled to have honked.

Sue, what are your thoughts on workout-related vomit? 

Gals in the blogosphere, have you ever been pushed to these ridiculous limits? Or are Sue and I just insane?

Off to drink some more tummy-calming tea...

xoxo,

DomestiGal Jen

Bridal Boot Camp Versus Math Boot Camp

To Sue and all my spoonin' ladies,

Wahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!! How inconsiderate of all of you to be discussing sleeping positions just when I am having to learn to sleep alone for half the week when I'm up here at school. WAH!!! Boo. Hiss.

Ok, now that I got my whining out of the way, I will say that my non-solo sleeping time usually consists of cuddling before falling asleep, and then cuddling (usually spooning, but there are a few variations) again upon stirring in the morning before the alarm goes off. Which is so lovely. Sigh.

And now I'm sad again. Boo!

But I promise not to spend the next year of my life blogging about how tres trag it is to be apart from The Lawyer. Especially when every other aspect of grad school, thus far, is great! I am having a blast, even if all the schmoozing and boozing has been beyond exhausting.

What have I been up to, you might ask? Well, these first two weeks are basically like our orientation. There have been introductory sessions covering everything from using our new email addresses to library services to careers to the alumni network. Thrilling stuff, right? Yeah, maybe not to y'all.

But what has been thrilling is Math Boot Camp! Since I hadn't done math in about a decade and had never used Excel to do anything beyond tracking wedding expenses, I signed up for all the sessions. And let me tell you, they're a blast! I never knew Excel was such a genius of a program! Sums and formulas and functions and data and charts and...

Uy. Do I sound convinced yet? Because I am trying to convince myself that attending Math Boot Camp is just as cool as Bridal Boot Camp... and yet, alas, no. Because really? When will I ever need to use Excel to do anything but track our wedding budget? Sigh. What I would give to be getting my butt kicked by Colossus rather than creating a scatter graph from a data table.

I miss my Domestic Goddessness. Just hoping the Domestic Boddess doesn't start to fade away as well... MUST. BE. A. HOT. BRIDE!

Off to Math Boot Camp,
sigh,

Jen

Jen: Domestic Goddess or Domestic Bod-dess?

Sue,

So now that I am a lame-o graduate student, my twice-weekly workouts with Colossus have now been cut in half. Sadly, I will only see him on weekends now - the only thing that's (way) worse is only seeing The Lawyer on weekends too but DO NOT even get me started on that one.

Anyway, I am a little worried that graduate school will stifle my progress with my Colossal Butt-Kickings. But for now, at least, I am still Colossus' star pupil. In fact, in our last session, Colossus told me (seriously) that if I wanted to, I could be a professional bodybuilder. 

Ok now stop laughing.

"Google Jennifer Nicole Lee," he said. "If you put yourself to it, you could be like her."

So DomestiGal Jen Googled this Jennifer. And here is what I found.

Photo: http://hollywoodfitnessmodels.blogspot.com

Um, I'm sorry, WHAT?! Also: I promise she's a fitness guru, not a porn star.

Yes, this is the woman Colossus claims I can be:

Photo: http://www.healthylivingnyc.com

Hell YEAH!

Um, except I will never look like that. For the following reasons:

A) I'm a graduate student, so there is beer. 

B) Be it banned or not, I am a Nutellaholic and always will be.

C) I would rather have The Lawyer invest in my Ring of Dreams than a Rack of Dreams.

But obv I am totally flattered that Colossus sees such potential (even if he is in for ultimate disappointment). And this woman is actually fairly fabulous and underwent an A to the Mazing transformation to get to where she is. 

Here she is on Oprah - check out the "before" pics and the cute exercises she does with her kiddies:

Pretty rad, eh?

And I will totally be using those fitness moves when I have babies. Yipee! Babies!

Love,

Jennifer the Domestic Bod-dess

Butt-Busting Tips from a Blushing Bride-to-Be

Sue,

I have had a few requests to share how my tuchus is looking so fine these days. And while I cannot give away all of Colossus' secrets, I do have some tips I'd be thrilled to spill into DomestiGal Land.

Granted, you all must take my word for it when I say I'm lookin' hot. But I'd be the first to admit if my efforts with Colossus were not paying off. It would not be worth banning Nutella from my pantry, trust me.

So here is an example of one of my workouts (which takes about an hour):
Elevated lunges (4 sets/8 reps)
Chest presses (4 sets/8 reps)
[break]
Lunge jumps (4 sets/30 reps)
Tricep dips (4 sets/15 reps OR 8 reps with weight)
Crunches on the exercise ball (4 sets/15 reps)
Push-ups (4 sets/10 reps)
[break]
Tabata squat and press (8 sets/8 reps)

Here in more detail are some of the tuchus-oriented moves:

Elevated lunges - 4 sets of 8 reps per leg, with weights in each hand
I do these with one foot up on a step, like the side of a treadmill. The elevation increases the range of motion. Also, some exercise mags or books tell you that you have to keep your front leg at a 90-degree angle when you lunge down: FALSE. Feel free to bend the leg over your foot - the farther the range of motion the more muscles you will use. Also, remember, don't be afraid to use heavy weights. Women's legs are stronger than men's, so we can handle some major weight with this exercise without developing gladiator legs. The heavier the weights I use, the more toned - not big - my legs look the next day. It is truly a Dyson-caliber miracle!

Step-ups - 4 sets of 8 reps per leg, with weights in each hand; try to work up to 15 reps per leg
These will kick your hiney but in a good way! Substitute them for the lunges in the workout above. Take a weight in each hand. Stand next to a sturdy(!!!) bench. Put one foot up on the bench. Step up with that leg, and bring your other knee up to your chest, then back down to the floor. Repeat 8 times, then move to the other side of the bench and switch legs. These are a total cardio workout too. Bonus!

Lunge jumps - 4 sets of 30 reps (NO weights on this one! They are hard enough as-is!)
Stand with your hands on your hips. Jump into a lunge (one foot forward, one back, kneeling almost to the floor). From that position, as you stand up, jump again - switching legs into another lunge. Colossus makes me do this for at least a minute straight, which is hell. On my own I do 30 reps (Ssshhhh! Don't tell him!).

Squat-thrusts - 4 sets of 30 reps (No weights on this one either!)
The Lawyer and I call these "Froggy Jumps" - start in a downward-dog-like position (for you Domestic Yogis!), with palms on the floor, feet on the floor, and your butt up in the air. Jump forward, as high a jump as you can and as far forward as you can; then jump back to starting position. Repeat as fast as you can. Substitute these for the lunge jumps in the workout above.

Ok, on to Tabata!

This is the grand finale of every workout with Colossus (read: the most butt-kicking exercise of all, coming at the end of the workout when you're already totally exhausted)...

Tabata has many variations but the important thing is this: do intervals of 20 seconds on, 10 seconds off, for about 4 minutes. This is a great, fat-burning end to a workout and was the result of a landmark study in 1996 by this guy, Dr. Izumi Tabata:

And his peeps.

The way I do it is this: Start with weights in each hand. Stand with your feet about shoulder-width apart, whatever is comfortable for squatting down. Curl the weights up to your shoulders. Squat down as far as you can go (stick that butt out!), and as you stand up, press the weights up until your arms are straight up and you are standing straight up. Bring the weights back to your shoulders and repeat.

PHEW!

Feelin' the burn yet, ladies?

If any of you have other workout tips (ahem, concave-stomached SUE!) feel free to share! Communal hotness abounds!

Your squatting fiend forever,

Domestic Goddess Jen

P.S. I also just happened upon this FABULOUS blog by the Fit Bottomed Girls (first of all could I love their name any more? No, I could not.). Gals, you will be hearing more about (and from!) these ladies in the near future... until then, squat yourselves silly!

Bridezilla Schmidezilla

My dearest and favoritest Domestic Partner,

Okay, so you are also the only gal I know who is in a legal domestic partnership, but that doesn't mean my love and admiration for you are any less,

Fear not! Just because I stayed awake for my entire red-eye flight from Detroit to London reading my new crop of bridal mags from cover to cover does not - I repeat, does NOT - mean that I will go all bridezilla on your yenta-cum-ministress ass.

I am the first to admit that booking our wedding location and starting the planning process before getting engaged, yes, without an engagement ring on my finger, is unconventional - though I must also say that it is much easier to browse vendors' websites without being blinded by the rays of glorious light emanating from my Ring of Dreams.

I will also admit that commencing Bridal Boot Camp and counting grams of protein with over a year to go until my nuptials may be a little intense - but remember, I am a Domestic Goddess! I don't work, I Dyson! What else am I going to do all day if I'm not exercising vigilance over my increasingly hot physique?

You can also give thanks to the High and Mighty Internet for keeping me sane in the coming months - okay, YEAR and months. There are a ton of fabulous, grounded brides-to-be out there: Veronica from NYC, Kelly and Natalie in DC, and even a gal in LA who is planning a $10,000 wedding! I mean how crazy can I possibly go?

Love,

We Fit

My dear DP,

I emailed my friend Sasha to fill her in on my new training regimen, and couldn’t help but attach a photo of my uberhot trainer. She perhaps captured my journey to fitness best: "There are really no words for your trainer. How are you doing without wine?"

Which, considering my behavior back in NYC, especially right before we moved (you know the combo of the holidays + leaving my job + saying goodbye to all my NYC peeps was an alcohol-bloat- extravaganza), is an understandable reaction and a fair question. But what's miraculous, besides Colossus himself, obv, is the fact that I haven't missed alcohol! I haven't missed chocolate! And the only carb I've longed for is this fabulous granola they make at one of the grocery stores over here. I mean that stuff must be laced with crack. The BF and I could polish off one huge-ass bag a week. I somehow found a way to incorporate it into every meal, even more creatively than I did with Nutella. (Because let's face it, more often than not I would just eat Nutella out of the jar with a spoon. Who doesn’t?)

Anyway, all this is to say that I am very proud of myself for conquering my vices and getting fit for real. Of course, if your wedding is not going to motivate you to put down the Nutella jar, what will? But it's incredibly empowering to feel like the BF and I are changing our lifestyle for the better. And I thought you, Ms. Fitness Guru, would appreciate that.

Xoxo,

DG

P.S. In case you didn't notice, that subject line up there is a clever little pun (if I do say so myself) - you know, Wii Fit? We (the BF and I) are Fit? Get it? But seriously, I feel a little weird to be obsessed with a Nintendo product but I cannot wait for the BF to purchase us a Wii Fit - which I know he will, because he is a gadgetaholic. Have you seen these things? You can do yoga on it! You can do balance exercises on it! It's like having your own personal trainer right at home! Not that anything could ever replace Colossus. But. I'm just saying. The Wii Fit looks hot.

Why Isn't This More Fun?

Ah Wendi,

I love how your keen sense of ladylike decorum comes through in your writing. I will never think of my protein shakes the same way again.

Hope you had a good weekend though. I miraculously survived another training session with Colossus and am anticipating another successful cleaning date with my beloved Dyson this morning.

But, alas, I'm feeling a little down. About this wedding planning stuff.

You know, before I met The Lawyer, I never allowed myself to visit TheKnot.com. Well, ok, fine. I might have typed the address into my web browser a few or dozen or so times, out of sheer boredom and desperation and inability to think of anywhere else to surf. But I never allowed myself to set up a profile.

I just knew it would be worth the wait. The BF would propose, I'd have my Ring of Dreams on my finger, and the sun would be shining and angels singing on the day I opened my laptop and logged into The Knot as a bride-to-be.

Things didn't exactly turn out that way, not that I mind. In fact I kind of love that the BF and I are doing things a bit inversely, booking our dream location before actually getting engaged (not that the event manager knows - sshhh!). Plus, it makes sense for me, since I will be starting my MBA in September. Best to get this stuff done now, as a Lady of Leisure, before I become a Student of Stress. I feel secure and happy and excited to get engaged and I think our family and friends will get a kick out of the fact that we booked everything before our actual engagement. I mean it's cute, right?

Me to family member/friend: "Guess what? I'm ENGAGED!"

FM/F: "That's great! I am so happy for you! Have you thought about a date?"

Me: "Yup! And a time, and a location. Invitations forthcoming. And there will be fabulous mini grilled cheese sandwiches passed during the 4:30-5:30 cocktail hour."

I mean, that's cute, right?

So why isn't this more fun?

We booked our date a couple weeks ago, and I had the green light to start planning, so off I went… and then I stalled. It wasn't until recently that I was able to sit myself back down to look at some caterer's websites. We also received our lengthy contracts in the mail, but signing them (and the deposit check to go along with them) was more painful than joyful.

Don't get me wrong. I was listening when EVERY bride EVER declared that planning a wedding is stressful. But this is, like, one of the only things on my docket right now. I could browse wedding sites all day, every day, la dee da, without a care in the world save for my aching legs courtesy of Colossus. And I am determined to have fun with it, dammit! Who cares if I don't have my Ring of Dreams tossing glorious rays of light around my kitchen as I type? Who cares if I am completely financially dependent on my fian - excuse me, boyfriend - right now and thus feel twice the pressure of a lack of liquid funds with which to consider satin linens over polyester and butternut squash soup served in a wee carved out pumpkin over a plain old bowl?

Oh - I care. Crap.

Wah...
DG

Domestic Gimp Seeks Sue Wisdom

Sue.

Ok, so you were my original fitness guru, before I was cast into the big, beefy, brawny arms of Colossus. And now here I am, hobbling back to you for some girl-guru-to-girl-gimp advice.

You see, as embarrassed as I am to admit it, I am still sore. I worked out with the man FIVE DAYS AGO and I am still sore. What is wrong with me??? I thought I was fit! I mean, I've run two marathons! Come on people! You know I was fit. Heck, even Colossus admits that I'm fitter than I look (thanks a lot, mister). And it's nothing mayjah - I didn't injure myself or anything. It's just that this is a record of patheticness for me, if I do say so myself. Still so sore I can't walk like a normal human being five days after a training session?! Ridiculous. It only took me 48 hours to recover from running a marathon, for goodness sake! Not to mention the fact that this is really putting a damper on my domestic duties.

So, guru, what do I do? Besides popping Motrin like it's the candy I can no longer eat because all I eat now is protein. Do I stretch (which really hurts)? Do I take walks? Is there something wrong with me?

Oh, and speaking of protein? Colossus says to jumpstart Bridal Boot Camp I have to be eating 1g of protein per pound of body weight. Which I did a few days ago, and, well, all I ate that day was protein (eggs, meat, nuts, protein powder shakes). How can this be good for me?

Help me, wise Wendi!

xoxo
DG*

*Domestic Gimp, obv.

Bridal Boot Camp Begins...

Dear Wendi,

Holy crap. I started Bridal Boot Camp yesterday, on what otherwise would have been a perfect Sunday. And by "perfect Sunday" - also known as "life before Boot Camp" - I mean this:

Sleep in.
Wake up refreshed and ready for a little romance (if you know what I mean).
Homemade brunch (using items purchased at the Notting Hill farmers' market the day before): blueberry pancakes, bacon, sausage, chocolate croissant, full-fat Greek yogurt with honey and granola, fresh-squeezed OJ.
Vegging and snuggling and possibly back to bed.

Instead, my Sunday consisted of this:

Wake up to alarm.
Tired and mildly cranky.
Workout nerves + fatigue = no, um, romance.
Pre-Boot Camp breakfast: one scrambled egg, three pieces of broccoli, small handful of almonds.
Ass handed to me by our new trainer, who will hence be known as Colossus.

I know it will all be worth it when I look hotter on my wedding day than I have ever looked in my life, but man. Life without carbs, chocolate, cheese, and - wait for it - ALCOHOL?! Just. Wrong.

Granted, we are only going carbless and boozeless for two weeks. Then we can slowly start adding these necessities back into our diet. And I must begrudgingly admit that since the BF and I started eating more protein and cut out the wine/beer/port/cider/champagne/Jaeger (kidding - I haven't been able to drink that since the Drunken Archaeologist Campsite Laundry Incident of 2000) a few days ago, I am feeling pretty good. Well, or, I was. Until this morning. Well, actually, until the middle of last night. When my soreness started waking me up every time I rolled over.

Today is not much of an improvement. I am already two Motrin in, with plenty more to go. I am hobbling around like I have a dumbbell up my tuchus, and my soreness almost - almost - kept me from my favorite sacred domestic ritual: my Monday morning date with Dyson.

TG I was able to rally.

Hoping you're sore this morning for a better reason than I (if you know what I mean)...

xoxo,
DG