Pole-asana

I have now successfully completed two pole dancing classes, and I have the sore muscles and bruises to show for it, which I admit, I love...nothing like some war wounds from a good workout. I learned a lot in this class, but it was more challenging than the first. There were more girls, most of whom were friends, and one has to be a super model in real life and had no place in a beginner pole class. Damn she was good! Even though the class was hard and in both classes I've had moments where I wonder what the hell I'm doing there, there's something about it that keeps me wanting more.

I don't walk around telling everyone that I've taken up pole dancing, but I have had quite a few conversations about it with friends and acquaintances. Every male is inevitably intrigued and wants to know if there will ever be a recital of some sort, and almost every female wants to try it, which I think is great (the female response, that is). As Kim mentioned in her previous post, walking around being proud of the chest God gave you is a good thing, and these classes teach you just that, and much, much more. But beyond the intrigue, two guys recently asked what the real interest is. For me, its the new physical challenge (I've barely climbed trees, let alone a metal pole with my bare skin), its the acrobatics (I did gymnastics as a kid but had to accept I was too tall for the sport when I did a cartwheel off the end of the balance beam and my toes hit the ceiling), its the mental challenge of looking yourself dead in the face, being sexy and not caring who else is in the room and might be watching, and its the hope that maybe this will be the thing that finally gets me to look like I've always wanted. That last reason is vague in nature because I don't really know what that is, and its not like I've walked around for almost 28 years feeling unhappy with my appearance, but I think there's always something more to strive for.

Despite my sore muscles and slightly pulled hip muscle from doing too many flying fan kicks, I managed to make it to yoga the next day. Yoga felt great. Certain poses were harder than usual but being challenged in a completely different way and stretching made for a perfect combination.

So here is my goal, and I can use all the help I can get to stick with it: I want to take one pole class and at least 3 yoga classes a week. Ideally 4, but I think 3 is a more realistic goal. We'll see how it goes...

Boob Pride (And Other Goals)

If I were to be unabashedly honest in job interviews when they ask me 'what's your biggest weakness?' I'd have to admit that I'm a consummate half-asser.* There's a half-knit hat sitting on my bedside table next to a not-even-close-to-half finished book on the Cold War next to a not-even-opened bottle of wrinkle cream. I told myself I'd learn how to play a certain song on the piano but every time I sit down to play I just sing 'Who Wants To Live Forever', sans accompaniment. My bedroom is essentially a pile of art supplies for projects I've half-completed. I ain't proud of this, and I think this personality flaw makes it especially hard to commit to a healthy lifestyle. Keeping this in mind, I'm setting low expectations for 2010 living. But I'm gonna try.

*If you're a potential employer googling me, I promise my strongest skill really is a can-do attitude.

1 Hour.
One night Asta, Anne and I were playing Scattergories at Albatross in Berkeley, and when I used the word "boring" as my answer to "Exercise", Asta was visibly shocked and offended. As she should be. I've tried gyms, dancing, yoga, pilates, Tae Bo, Wii Fit...and none of it keeps me interested very long. With that in mind, I'm not aiming to run an hour or go to a Pilates class every day - I'm just promising myself that I'll do a total of 60 minutes of exercise a day. Now, that could be 30 minutes of stretching while I watch "How I Met Your Mother" and 30 minutes of washing dishes, but say it with me - low expectations. I'll go on the quest to find the ultimate exercise soon enough.

Number Two
That's right people, I'm talking about poop. I did a little research on healthy bowel movements (heartfelt thank you to Google for not suggesting images for this particular search) and I found this site for kids extremely informative, with a special tip to get up a little earlier in the day to make time for dropping the kids off. The best site I found, however, is The Poop Report. I was giggling all over this site. I wouldn't recommend staying on it for too long, but I think it's important to think about our system and what we can learn from it. In fact, I'd love to hear other's thoughts on poop. Food in, fecal out!

Spending A Penny
While we're on uncomfortable subjects (Scott, if you're still reading, I'm really proud of you), I drink too much coffee and juice and not nearly enough water for healthy hydration. For the sake of my skin and my belly, I aim to drink enough water to pass enough water. Unfortunately, I don't know what the appropriate amount/color is, so I did a little research. I learned that someone out there loves urinating so much they've dedicated an entire site to it: http://www.urinecolors.com/, but beyond that, there's just too much info out there to know what's right. Hey Lyndsey, care to drop some of your nursing knowledge on the matter?

Will, You Ruined My Life
In 10th grade I got word that a boy was talking about me in the locker room. I won't share the exact quote, but I will tell you that apparently he enjoyed the way I wore my bookbag, with the strap across my torso and between my boobs. I've been self-conscious of the bazooms ever since and have always made a concerted effort to round my shoulders and slouch when I walk so I don't receive unnecessary attention. Well, I'm done with that. These babies are only going to be perky for a few more years so I might as well stick 'em out now and reap the rewards. I aim to do Sun Salutations every morning to start my day off with flexible, strong, boob-proud posture. This woman knows what I'm talking about - she has a great rack.

Keeping the Doctor Away
Holy lordy, there are so many amazing fruits and veggies! My recent favorites: mangoes and parsnips. (Do not eat these together). Fruits make you poop (see number 2) and veggies protect your heart - what's not to love? 5 a day, my babies, piece of cake. Oh...cake.

Sugar, Sugar*
My best friend often does a dead-on impersonation of me simply by saying "Drinks!" in a high-pitched voice. Yes, it's true, I do love me a good cocktail. My tipple of choice for years was rum and coke - a whopping 200 calories. I've tamed the beast a bit now and opt for wine spritzers or gin and sodas, but that just makes me think I can have twice as many. And pile on a dessert, too. What needs to happen is a mind shift - cocktails are essentially desserts. It's one or the other, Kim. My own little Sophie's Choice.

What's cookin'?
Cooking is a pleasure I've only recently discovered, for which I will credit unemployment and living with my parents. When I lived alone, dinner was typically a can of chili or just a tortilla and some beers. There was no joy in cooking because there was no one else to appreciate it and my kitchen was the size of a hotel bathroom. My parents grow every vegetable imaginable in their garden and have a magazine-worthy kitchen with every utensil under the sun. They even have tiny little muffin tins and a cider press. Crazy utensils aside, it feels really good to put time and effort into a meal and know exactly what you're eating. I've already started cooking up a storm but hope to keep it up with at least 2 new recipes a week. I'll be sure to share my favorite recipes.

*That reminds me, I should go to the dentist.

Here's to a healthy, low-achieving 2010.

Fierce living, or at least attempting to

Last Friday I was all set for the second class of my latest athletic adventure, pole dancing (more on that later), but a man hole blew up in front of the studio, causing a power and heat breakdown. My second thought was to take a yoga class, which shares the same studio, but eventually they canceled that class too. So with two strikes against me, I opted to drink a few beers, eat a juicy burger and a plate of fries. Don't get me wrong, sometimes life calls for burgers and beers, but it wasn't exactly an even trade for exercise!

I am going on my fifth year in New York as a west coast transplant. I have always been an active person, but I never feel satisfied with how much I'm doing or how I look. I constantly struggle to find balance in both of those things. To a certain extent, I have exercise ADD. I get bored with one thing, am not enthusiastic about another, or discover something new to try. And in New York, the options are endless, as is the food (more on that later too).

But over the past year, one thing has transcended that: yoga. I am obsessed with core strength vinyasa, to be exact, taught by the wonderful teachers at The Fierce Club in NYC. Whenever someone learns where I practice, they give me that "what?" look. Fierce yoga seems like an oxymoron, or something only New Yorkers would go for, but its not. It is challenging (!!!) yet grounding, exhausting yet rejuvenating. Check out a video here, I'm the one in the blue top.

On top of yoga, my latest discovery has been pole dancing at Body and Pole. I have no aspirations to become a stripper, but after just one class I'm hooked. Its incredibly hard, fun, acrobatic and totally different. We'll see how the second attempt goes this Friday...

Food is my other obsession. Eating it, talking about it, cooking it, reading about it, I love it all. I try for healthy spins on most things I cook, but am all for the occasional indulgence. I've added a list of some of my favorite food blogs on the left.

Yoga, pole dancing, and (mostly) healthy eating sounds all well and good, but that is what I aspire to, not my complete reality...yet. In truth, I snack too much, can't resist sweets (nutella and brownie batter included) and get lazy and skip exercising every so often. But hopefully this blog, written by three amazing dumb belles, will help make it more of a reality, for me and anyone else that reads it and feels similarly.

Exercise is a dirty word, but not as dirty as the sidewalk

I woke up with a hangover on Saturday. Rushing to catch my bus back home from London, I stopped at 4 different vendors in Victoria Station to satisfy cravings for sweet, salty and hydration. First, a chocolate chip cookie. Then a smoothie. Then a pre-made duck dish. I threw them all in a bag and started to head out when I realized I needed a fork for my "salty". As the little fat kid in my belly would have it, I was standing right in front of a fast rood restaurant.

McDonalds was packed but I managed to get the fork...and a hamburger, naturally. I made a mad dash for my bus, darting in and out of tourists with bags and the aforementioned goodies bobbing all over the place, my mouth doing a countdown to satisfaction. As I weaved through a group of teenage boys I started to think, "Damn Kim, you're goo-" when my left foot tripped on my right and what was a stealthy Kim became a pancake Kim. My belongings exploded all over the boys and the sidewalk, but all I could think was that the hamburger better stay contained in that glorious paper wrap.

And boy, it sure did. With bloody knuckles and a bruised knee, I downed every last bite of my food within the first 5 minutes of the busstrip and then took a moment to examine my life. I had started the day in a lovely North London apartment where my friend Lyndsey effortlessly made Huevos Rancheros for us while I barely managed to make drinkable coffee. Adding insult to crappy coffee and culinary skills, I've been unemployed for almost 5 months now. I live with my parents. My most recent romantic encounter was replaying a kiss during an episode of Veronica Mars, and today is Valentine's Day. Needless to say, I could do with a little self-improvement.

Improvement starts with taking control of any little thing I can. Like not getting so drunk on Friday night I need a carb overload the next day. Like planning life a bit better so I don't have to sprint to catch a bus. Like running more so that putting my left foot in front of my right doesn't result in a face plant on a grimy sidewalk. Healthy living sounds crazy boring to me, but if life is about owning things (let's be honest, folks), what better to own than a healthy body and a happy mind? Melissa, Jamie and I are starting this blog to document our ups and downs while we eat well, work out and flex our mind muscles to be better, thinner and happier women. That's the plan, at least.

If you can't control your feet and end up falling flat on your face in public, or if you can't control your love of Nutella and eat 4 tablespoons in a row after you make brownies and eat the batter, or if you drink two gin and tonics before you do pilates...this blog may be just the thing for you. If not, I've just shared a hell of a lot of personal information that I'll thank you not to bring up the next time I see you.