The Virgin pumps it up

#38 Never Have I Ever: Consistently gone to the gym

Foreplay: As you know from my last post, I'm seriously trying to get back in shape. Mostly because:

• Running up a few flights of stairs leaves me panting like a fat puppy
• I'm tired of the not-so-subtle jabs by my tactless family; "Oh, look at your cheeks, haha! Have you gained weight? Better put down that margarita, haha!" [Note: Don't ever tell me what to do with my booze. I will tell you when I've had enough.]
  
• For the first time in my life, I couldn't fit into something in my wardrobe -- not because I had outgrown it, but because there was simply too much junk in the trunk

I need to come to terms with the fact that my metabolism isn't what it used to be (and the most exercise I get during the weekday is frantic speed walking from the parking lot to my office when I'm late). After years of chowing down with the nutritional recklessness of a teenage boy, my body is finally rebelling.

Body: Of course you realize that this means war.

The Down and Dirty: During the last couple weeks I've:

1. Joined a gym for the first time in my life
   
2. Used a personal trainer for the first time ever (and got my fat ass thoroughly handed to me)
3. Gone to the gym at least 5 times a week
4. Spent over an hour during each visit working on cardio and weight training

I am so serious about getting back in shape. Although I've been at a consistent weight for the last few months, it's been uh... redistributed to less desirable areas.

I was so ambitious about exercising that on the first day of my brand spankin' new gym membership I spent a good 2 hours on the treadmill, elliptical, and stationary bike while blazing through my borrowed copy of Water for Elephants. It was awesome -- I was burning hundreds of calories, getting some long overdue pleasure reading done, finally feeling physically and mentally productive... when I pulled a muscle. Badly.

I limped and squeaked in pathetic pain the whole walk home. I couldn't lift my left leg more than 3 inches off the ground. Putting pants on has never been so painful. Erm. Yeah.

I still forged ahead on the fitness front but abandoned the treadmill in favor of the less impacting elliptical. Everyday I dragged my body to the gym after a long day at work and put it through the wringer for at least an hour. I huffed and puffed until I felt the slow drip of sweat making its winding course down my shirt. Sexy, I know.

But what do you know! I started feeling more energized, more upbeat -- I felt better. I sleep better at night and put more effort into getting dressed in the morning. I don't mind going to the gym. In fact, I look forward to the coke-rush of endorphins now. I anticipate the first break of sweat and push myself towards that moment. And um... TMI WARNING but putting my pants on is difficult in a whole different sense now. Um. Yeah. Ahem...

The Afterglow: I'd say this is a resounding success. I don't know if I can actually keep this up though; 2 hours at the gym each day is a lot of time to dedicate. Work is piling on (10+ hour days aren't so bad, right? ...Right?) and I find myself finally sitting down to dinner at 10:30pm, in bed by 1:00am, and then repeating it all after 6 hours of sleep. And I don't even drink coffee.

On top of it all, my injury was two weeks ago and my leg still hurts. I know I should stop putting stress on it, but I can't help it. I'm stubborn and impatient and I want to be healthier NOW! Plus, I'm sure this is another tactic my body is using to prevent me from being active and in shape. Stupid body. I'd kick myself if my leg didn't already hurt so much.

Alright, Body, in the wise words of Homer Simpson: You don't like me and I don't like you, but let's do this and I can get back to killing you with beer.

The Virgin fails at being animal-friendly

#25 Never Have I Ever: Gone vegan for at least a week

Foreplay: After breezing through my week of vegetarianism, I decided to forge ahead and save a few more cows by trying out veganism for a week. I mean, how much harder can it be, right? Right...

The Down and Dirty: Holy shit. I can't eat a single thing. Whereas I forgot about meat while being vegetarian because of all the options, veganism was determined to kill me by starvation or otherwise.

During the first morning of veganism, I decided to cook a batch of Mexican rice for some rice & bean burritos to tide me over until my next grocery run (damn veggies and your short lifespan in my fridge!). But while steaming the rice on my stove top, I completely burned the back of my fingers. As tears welled up in my eyes, I was thoroughly convinced that the universe was telling me to go murder a cow now.

The week didn't get much better. I was too paranoid to enjoy my food in fear that I was committing a vegan crime. And when I finally found meals that I could indulge in, I was all over it like gold diggers on a deathbed millionaire.

It was so peculiar to pay so much attention to what I eat yet basically disregard the nutritional information. It's like meticulously picking furniture only to set the house on fire. I felt like I was eating to not be hungry -- which was a very often occurrence. I didn't realize how much meat and dairy filled me up.

Despite my constant alertness, I couldn't help but to have a few slip ups. During a meal at Pure Luck, a vegetarian restaurant famous for their crazily convincing jackfruit "carnitas", I mistakenly let my guard down; I was halfway through my side Caesar salad before I forgot to ask if the dressing was vegan. During St. Patrick's Day, I was enjoying my second Irish Car Bomb when I realized Bailey's Irish Cream was a component in the concoction.

And then... I went to the StarChefs Gala. Needless to say, I crashed and burned beautifully. I finally broke when I said fuck it and wolfed down the Jamaican jerk pork belly.

...Holy hell. HOLY HELL. Worth it. SO WORTH IT. Fuck you, Babe. I will eat you and your family if you all tasted this good. And to think, I was going to reward myself with an In N Out burger at the end of the week. If I was going to give into meat, I might as well do it with food from top chefs. It's like an addict breaking sobriety by snorting class A coke off of David Bowie's ass.

The Afterglow: Veganism just isn't for me. I hated being so paranoid about food all the time. It didn't make me feel healthier since I was constantly hungry and when I finally did find something to eat I didn't care about nutrition.

It was also more expensive. I had to pay an extra $0.50 to substitute soy milk in my iced chai latte. Fresh produce costs more than it should. And those damn soy chicken nuggets!

Yes, I probably went about veganism the wrong way despite putting some research behind it. I just don't have the time to devote to such a drastic lifestyle. That's why I don't diet. That, and my total lack of will power when you wave an eclair in front of my face.

I don't think I can ever subject myself to such a strict diet again. It almost killed me! I'm sorry, Babe. I'd rather you than me and honestly, you're simply too tasty for me to deny.

The Virgin says no to meat

#21 Never Have I Ever: Gone vegetarian for at least a week.

Foreplay: My diet is generally healthy. I never go grocery shopping while hungry lest I want to come home with four Toblerone bars and a pound of brie. I exclusively buy chicken or fish and only gorge on four-legged creatures outside my kitchen. I work through a pound of spinach a week, creatively injecting it into almost every meal (spinach brownies, anyone?). But the nutritional benefits of animal flesh obviously pale in comparison to fruits and vegetables.

Although I love cooking yellow curry chicken and lemon-pepper salmon and occasionally wolfing down carne asada quesadillas post bar crawls, I know I could be eating healthier. I pushed aside my hesitation about surviving on salads and I turned in my meat cleaver in exchange for pruning sheers for a week.

The Down and Dirty: I'm thoroughly convinced that vegetarianism is just another way of saying "I'm going to relentlessly stuff my face with carbs until I shit yeast" because that's exactly what I did.

Grocery shopping was by far the hardest part of vegetarianism. I didn't realize how expensive fresh fruits and vegetables were until I started piling up my shopping cart with them. How is it that soy chicken costs so much more than real chicken? It couldn't have even pecked my eye out at any point!

At first I didn't even miss meat. I was happy chowing down on margherita pizza, vegetarian chili, garlic-roasted veggie pasta, and other animal-friendly foods. It didn't really hit me until 3 days in. I arrived during lunch time for my teaching job at the high school and having been in such a rush that morning, I had only eaten a few spoonfuls of my Multigrain Cheerios. The aroma of mushy spaghetti noodles slathered with greasy bolognese sauce was so mouthwatering. Never in my life had I ever wanted substandard cafeteria food so much. A fellow teacher insisted we snag a free plate and I made no motion to tell her about my special diet. Thank goodness for my vegetarianism and my arteries, they ran out by the time we walked over.

That night I went to The Spot, a cozy shack of a vegetarian restaurant, and ordered an overwhelming plate of their tempeh enchiladas. Although tempeh has the texture of a potato, my meat craving was immediately satiated -- those were some of the best enchiladas I've ever had. Just the familiar flavor of enchilada sauce and cheese quelled my hankering for animal flesh.

It was smooth sailing from there on out. A funny result of shopping and cooking vegetarian is that I made myself eat healthier. I figured if I'm going to be eating tons of veggies, I might as well invest in some whole grain pasta and brown rice while I'm at it. I added as many vegetables as I could to every possible dish in a race to beat their impending expiration date.

The Afterglow: I've never thought so much about food before. Usually when I come home from work I'll defrost some chicken or salmon, pop brown rice into my rice cooker, and sauté some spinach. But this time I had to sit down and think about what veggies were going to go bad first, and what would fill me up.

Unfortunately, I don't feel any healthier or more energized that I did when I was an omnivore. Perhaps because I was already a relatively conscious eater who loved vegetables. I definitely need to calm it down with the carbohydrates -- fasho.

I don't miss meat too much. There were even times I even forgot I was a vegetarian until someone offered me a meat-laced bite to try. And ya know, I didn't have a single salad all week!

Vegetarianism -- no big deal. Next step: veganism. Goodbye, delicious cheese! Hello, bland tofu!