April 2012 – Betsy Schow

Fitness Tip: Chocolate Milk

Milk… does a body good. And for some athletes, chocolate milk can do your body even better.

Studies suggest that for some athletes, after an intensive cardio workout, (cycling, swimming, running) chocolate milk can be better for your body’s recovery than gatorade or the like. It has just the right mix of sugars and proteins to replenish sore muscles.

This is not for the “I just worked out for 15 minutes” crowd. But if you are dead beat after a 45 min or 60 workout, give some low fat chocolate milk a try. Say 6 oz. or 4 oz if you are trying to lose weight.

I’ve been doing this pretty religiously on anything 5 miles or higher. So far, I am able to run back to back days much easier, and my sore limping time has decreased. Give it a shot.

Here’s one of my sources for the article.
http://newsfeed.time.com/2012/03/08/chocolate-milk-wants-to-be-your-post-workout-drink/

Z is for Zaftig

Definition of ZAFTIG

of a woman

: having a full rounded figure : pleasingly plump

Origin of ZAFTIG

Yiddish zaftik-juicy

Whenever I get depressed that I am not a stick figure or tall willowy blonde, I tend to look up awesome adjectives that make me feel better about my curves. I stumbled across Zaftig not too long ago.

After I lost the 75 pounds, I was a little upset that I was still basically the same shape, just shrunk. Where was the delicate ballerina body I longed for? Why can I wear a size 6 and still have a mommy tummy?

Because I’m juicy and zaftig, that’s why.

And that’s it. No more alphabet. YAY! Ok, so it was a lot of work, but pretty fun too. I survived, but I think I will go back to once a week for this blog and keep up every day on my Finished Being Fat blog. Visit me there, or at Mormon Mommy Writers on Saturdays.

Thanks for reading, see ya next week.

The Long Run: Thanksgiving Point Half Marathon

So most of the times I try to share a lesson or a thought. Something I’ve learned over the course of this accidental adventure. Today however, I will be running the Thanksgiving Point half marathon, and I wanted to share it with you.

I’m actually writing this part of Friday night. My nerves are jumpy, and I probably won’t be able to sleep. But that’s half the fun right? I picked up my packet and my number is 992. Sounds like a good number to me. So I’m going to go to sleep now (maybe), and after I finish the race tomorrow, I will post how it went. It’s timed. I’m sure I won’t be first. I probably won’t be last. But it doesn’t matter, as long as I finish.

Ok, so I’ve finally recovered enough to sit at the computer. LOL. Here’s a tip, if the race is run through a golf course, just say NO. This was a really tough race with lots of steep inclines and drops following the Thanksgiving Point golf course. That part mooey sucked. But the first part was awesome. We ran through the gardens. There were tulips and lilacs everywhere. Fountains and waterfalls. Bridges, archways, and tunnels. I almost wanted to slow down to soak it in a little more.

I had intended this run to be basically another training run for the marathon, meaning slow and steady. Ehh. Didn’t happen. Once I got next to the other runners my little competitive fuse got lit by adrenaline. I was doing my run at 8:30 min per mile pace for half mile, the recovery walk for 1 minute. There was this guy, we will call him green guy because of his attire. Green guy and I kept jockeying for position. I would run ahead of him, then my watch would beep and I would walk. During the walk cycle he would pass me for a moment until my watch beeped that it was time to run again. Then I’d leave him in the dust.

Every time I passed green guy he would groan or swear. He was so mad that I kept passing him then holding back. Then passing again. He finally said something unpleasant. I ignored him and kept on running. I made it my mission to beat him to the finish. So when we approached all the hills my legs really wanted to slow down, but I was not going to let that snot beat me.

Long story short, I beat him to the finish by 3 minutes. Even though I took walk breaks every half mile and he ran continuously. I finished at 2:02:30. in about the top third of all the registered people.

Lesson to be learned? Do your own thing and tune out the naysayers. People may have thought I was dumb for run.walking, but at the end of the race I was exhausted and I was injury free. Green guy was limping. Who had the better run?

Run, walk, skip, or jump. Do your own thing and whatever makes you happy. The only rule is that you have to finish.

Y is for You

The question I get asked the most by aspiring writers is this, There are a million books about (mourning, weight loss, parenting, etc). I’m just a nobody. What can I bring that’s any different?

My answer is always the same… you.

So What if you’re not a celebrity? You have something that nobody else has: your story, your voice, and your life experience. Don’t let anybody tell you any different.

Yes, there have been lots of books about losing a loved one. But there have been no books about losing your loved one.
That doesn’t just apply to non-fiction. How many times have we read boy meets girl, or girl meets vampire? What sells books is your unique narrative voice. What do you have to say and how can you say it differently from everyone else?

As a writing exercise, my teacher had us all go outside and look at the road. Then he had us go inside and write a paragraph about the road. As you can imagine, the six of us, though we all looked at the same road, had remarkably different things to say about it. One of my favorites said it looked like a meeting place for lost souls.

Point is, you bring something to the table that is awesome and unique and deserves to be written. So don’t try to make your book like any other that’s been written before. Don’t model it after a best seller.
Model it after you.
Tell your story.

Exercise for the Soul: Backpack Meditation

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I carry alot of crap around with me. I’m not talking about the stuff in handbag, I’m talking about the junk in my emotional backpack. The stuff I carry around everywhere that weighs down my spirit. So here’s a little visualization technique I made up to help lighten the load.

Go into you meditative stance. Lie down, sit.. whatever works for you. Just find a place you’re comfortable that you can zone out the world.

Now imagine yourself on the bank of the a river. You’re carrying a big backpack, stuffed with all the things you’re worried about. Set the backpack down in the tall meadowy grass. Open it up and start pulling out your burdens one by one. Examine each weight, analyze it. Is it something you really need to worry about? If not, put it in the river and let it float away. Once you’ve gone through and cataloged all you troubles, only put the ones absolutely necessary to function, back into your backpack. Chuck everything else into the river and watch it float away, leaving your sight and life.

Put your backpack on a gain. Feel how much lighter it is without the extra weights from worrying about dumb things, or things you can’t control.

Open your eyes and go about the rest of your day. Make sure you leave the discarded worries where they belong, away from you and your emotional backpack.

X is for Xanthippe

I will admit I was stumped by this one. I went in search of a new favorite words starting with X. I found it.

Xanthippe is an ill tempered woman. Taming of the shrew anyone? Yesterday, that described me to a T. Everything around me was uber irritating. The house, the kids, the big kid I’m married to. Nothing pleased me. I was a xanthippe.

So next time somebody calls you a something that starts with B and ends in itch, just tell them you’re a xanthippe. It’ll shut them up and they’ll have to go look it up in the dictionary. And they’ll probably look in Z.

Potpourri: Food like substance

So I went to a nutrition slash cooking class on Tuesday, and I’m going to the cooking part tonite.

The class was hosted by Tres Hatch, the author of The Miracle Pill. I will review this later. Great book.

Anyway, she said something that made me think. Therefore I think you should think.

How much of the food you eat comes from a box? Or a drive thru bag?

I want to take it one step further. How much of the food you eat is actually food, and how much is just a food-like-substance. Does what you eat actually resemble the way the ingredients started out?

For me the answer is a no.

W is for Writing… duh

I love writing. It’s cheaper than therapy and if you do it right, you can actually make money. Still working on the last part.

Biggest thing I’ve learned about writing? If you’re not having fun, you’re not doing it right. When I reread through chapters I’ve written recently, I can totally tell when I was having a fun and when I was forcing the scene to come out. If I had to guess, the reader probably can too.

When you write, you share a piece of yourself on the page. So thank you to all of the authors that I love that change my life. Thank you for sharing with me. From now on I will read your work and wonder exactly what piece of you I’m getting. The part where you’re hashing out your high school issues, or the little moments of parenthood that make you want to take your kid back to the OBGYN.

My favorite thing you share, your first love, re-envisioned, so that it happens the way it was supposed to.

Dress for Success: Comfortable blues

This is a piece of advice I have just started implementing in my own life. Lately I have been busy certifying as a Sport Yoga trainer. My wardrobe has been 24/7 yoga pants and clothes. They’re comfortable and loose, and I like the fit. However, I do look a bit schlubby.

When we feel a little down about our size or shape, we tend to reach for comfort things. Comfort food and comfort clothes. If I feel a little bloated, I avoid jeans like the plague. I want my nice capri yoga pants. Sure I’m comfortable, but in my scrubbies I only feel worse about myself.

So starting today, when I feel a bit frumpy, I am going to get dolled up. Even if it’s just to sit in front of my computer. I’m not dressing up for anyone else, I’m doing it for me. If I feel crappy, that’s probably when I need to pull out those jeans that I know make my butt look great. I may not feel like it, but I bet I will feel better when I look in the mirror and see a put together woman instead of the bed headed schlub.

Not my kid, but I saw this on the web and it was too cute not to use. So thank you anonymous kid for showing exactly how I feel some days.