Restarting Yoga: Day 28 of #100happydays

When you concentrate on fitness of a kind, you tend to neglect the rest. Which is what happened to me. I called myself a runner, so endurance became the name of the game for me. I would run long, I would run often. I would cross train with cycling and swimming, and do exercises to strengthen the core, but everything I did was directed towards making me a stronger runner.

And then I realized I couldn’t touch my toes. Not even if I bent my knees. Time to stop defining myself as a runner. Time to go back to Yoga.

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S-t-r-e-t-c-h: Day 26 of #100happydays

The last thing you want to do at the end of a workout is stretch. You know that stretching the muscles is the only way to remain injury free. You know that nothing refreshes you as much as a good stretch. And yet, when you are pushed for time, you prefer to skip the stretching, instead of sacrificing a few minutes of the workout to do it. Perhaps it is because the act of stretching itself can be painful at times.

 Whatever the reason, change the habit, and s-t-r-e-t-c-h.

And do all those other things that are good for you.

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There is no magic pill

“But you are a fitness freak”, a friend informed me, when I was trying to motivate her to work-out regularly. She made it sound like I was addicted to exercise, that some mysterious power compelled me to work-out every-day.

Doesn’t she realize that when the alarm goes off early in the morning, I too have to struggle to get out of the bed. That there are days when I want to rest, but don’t because I know that once a habit is broken, you can’t get it back.

There is no magic to fittness- you just have to push yourself.

“If exercise were a pill, it would be one of the most cost-effective drugs ever invented."

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This is the fourth year that I am going to be a part of NaBloWriM. The Plan is to elaborate on a quote that touched my heart- let's see how far this takes me. If I can tie it in with the writing prompt, so much the better!

Discovering cooking

I am a strictly utilitarian cook- I enter the kitchen only when I absolutely have to. Not for me hours spent pouring over recipe books; experimenting with flavours; playing with textures. I’d eat the same boring stuff at home, and indulge when we went out.

Till I discovered an on-line community of enthusiastic cooks. Suddenly, good food became accessible. Boring vegetables could be cooked in new ways. Cereals I never knew existed turned out to be as delicious as they were healthy. My spice rack expanded, I bought new implements.

Suddenly, cooking has become almost as much fun as eating!

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Bajra/ pearl millet was a name I'd only encountered in geography texts, 

till I found this recipe that seemed easy enough even for me to attempt. 

Verdict- yummy!!!!

The Right to Life

There are only two things that I fear- one of them is Cancer. All it takes is one rogue cell. Even after you have been in remission for years, that one little cell can strike back. Once you have tested positive, you can never be certain you have put it behind you.

Which is why it pains me to see people confusing issues.

The Komen Foundation cancelling its grant to Planned Parenthood. Livestrong coming out strongly in support. People taking off their Livestrong bracelets in protest.

Some things should be above politics. The Right to Life is one of them.

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Today is World Cancer Day- do something to show your support.

A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Why compete????

“I am sure I can lift heavier weights than you”, a random lady told me at the gym.

“I am sure you can”, I replied, and proceeded with my workout.

“And I am not even a marathoner like you”, she added unnecessarily.

Lady, when will you realize, if realize you ever will, that neither of us is in competition with the other. And if my presence inspires you to lift weights heavier than I do myself, nobody will be happier than I. Because few things give me as much pleasure as seeing women taking care of their fitness and health.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

The Pink Ribbon coming undone

To someone who often sports the Pink Ribbon to express solidarity with the cause, it came as a shock to hear that the Susan G. Komen Foundation was stopping its funding to Planned Parenthood for breast cancer examinations. How could an organization that has become virtually synonymous with breast cancer deny women the right to be screened? Shouldn’t that be a basic right, overriding political compulsions?

And while I am glad that donations to Planned Parenthood have spiked after the news of Komen’s decision, I am not too surprised. People are not as dumb as they are credited to be.
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I sported a Pink Ribbon when I ran my last marathon-
not sure if I will ever do that again. Or maybe I will-
the Cause is bigger than any Organization

The Wisdom of Whores

Sometimes you come across a voice that cuts through the nonsense and tells it as it is. A voice that is not afraid to tell you that the UN spent $ 250 million on AIDS prevention in 1995, and private users spent $ 2 billion on botox injections ten years later. A voice that questions a much admired public figure for declaring that he intends wiping out polio in less time that it took his company to wipe out its nearest competitor. A voice that challenges with humour.


I just started reading Elizabeth Pisani's "The Wisdom of Whores", and I am already addicted.
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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Sleep, deep sleep

So many of us think sleep is almost dispensable. So many of us think that being able to get by with little sleep is a badge of toughness.

I know people who compromise on sleep so they get their daily workouts- till very recently, I was one of that tribe too. I know people who have almost trained their body to believe it needs less sleep than it does.

And yet, the body needs rest. It needs sleep; uninterrupted, quality sleep. Compromise on your passion, but don't cut back on sleep. Someone I know recently died of lack of sleep.

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

On Yoga

There was a time when I practiced yoga- not everyday, but at least a few days a week. Those were the days when I was overweight, but my body was flexible. I could do things I can't even dream of doing today, and I did them quite effortlessly. Then, one day, I stopped. And before I knew it no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't any longer touch my toes, much less do the more complicated stuff.


Sometimes, I wonder why and when I stopped. I wonder if I can now go back? And if I really want to
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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Last year, it was Y for Youth

On Immunizations

A community health worker came home the other day to administer polio drops to my kid.

"I got him immunized at the health-care centre on Sunday", I told her.
"Thank you!", she said sincerely.
"What for? He's my child. Why should you thank me?"
"Because so few people do. And even when we go to their house, they ask us to come back later."
"That's ridiculous!"
"You know, the problem is that we give these drops for free. If we charge for it, people will queue up for them."

She'd nailed it. Why can't people value things that are free?
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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Last year, it was I for India, and for Interview

Procrastination, my friend

Six months back, the filling on my pre-molars fell out. I should have got the cavity filled immediately, but April was a mad month. "I need to find a good dentist", I justified. But you don't exactly find a dentist unless you look for one. My tongue found something new to explore.
Then, the pain flared up. I couldn't hear myself think. I didn't trust myself to talk. Ibuprofen didn't help. Neither did clove oil. I passed the night in excruciating pain. And found myself a dentist the next morning.
Root-canal treatment was the official prognosis.
Why do we delay?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

At what price Perfection?

"Look how fat I have become", cribbed a mother, pinching a love handle only she could see.

"Take it away from me", squealed another, when I offered her a piece of fudge. "If I have that, I will have to starve myself for the rest of the week to make up."

Both are mothers approaching middle age. Both look gorgeous, and not just for their age. But both are unhappy with their bodies. Which is such a pity.

After all, body perfection is not an absolute. And even if it is, is it worth the price it demands of you?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Lessons from Weight training

In the gym today, I found myself struggling with one of the exercises. While normally, I start flagging towards the end of a set, today, I was struggling almost from the time I started. “All your fault for being so irregular”, I chided myself and somehow finished the sets.

It was only while putting the dumb-bells back that I noticed that I had picked up the 9-kilo weights instead of the 6-kilo that I normally use. No wonder it had been so difficult!

Which set me thinking- how many of our limits are real, and how many are self imposed?

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

The photograph was taken off the internet- I look nowhere near as good as that Goddess does.

The body of a Runner

“You run?”, someone asked me incredulously.

“Yup!”

“But you don’t’ look like a runner. I mean, it’s not that you are fat or anything, but…..”

Since I knew what she meant, I changed the topic.

People expect runners to be thin because of the calories we burn, but actually very few of us are. Runners pile on the carbs to ensure they have enough energy for the home-stretch. Our thigh muscles need to be well developed- skinny jeans are not for us.

A Size Zero model cannot survive a long race. Why, then, do people expect runners to be thin?:

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A drabble is a story told in exactly 100 words.

Z for Zzzzz

The last day of the A to Z blogging challenge, and I wished I could bow out with something really profound, but there seem to be no Z words at all.
Zip? Something that joins together divergent parts- link it to the blogging challenge. Possible, but I don't think I can inject either the right level of seriousness, or strike the right chord of levity.
Zoo? Animals captive in a zoo, people captive in cages of their own making. Alternately, blogland as a zoo- animals from all over the world co-existing in harmony. Again, I am not upto the task.
Zebra - last week, someone blogged about how each zebra is unique, and of how we should embrace our inner zebra. You may as well read Don't fight the stripe, Joanne says it much better than I ever could.

But there is one Z that I can blog about.


Zzzzz!!!

I had forgotten to reset the alarm clock last night, and when it went off this morning, I got up feeling I was ready to face the day. But I knew I had gone to bed an hour later than normal, and that I would have another late night today, so I turned off the alarm clock and gifted myself an extra hour of sleep.

Six months back, I would not even have thought of doing so. Six week after my surgery when I was allowed to resume my normal life, I promised myself that I would go for a run six days a week- no excuses. And I did.

Whether I had slept for three hours or six, I would wake up the moment my alarm clock went off. There were days when all I wanted were a few extra minutes of sleep, but I would firmly tell myself "don't be lazy. Nobody died from lack of sleep."

Till somebody did. The 42 year old CEO of an MNC collapsed after returning from the gym - a man in perfect health, conscious of his diet, religious about exercise. The only thing he never found time for was sleep.

People could die from lack of sleep. I went into the details a couple of months back, but just in case you don't want to go back and read the old post, I am reposting the technical details at the end of this post.

Now, I make sure I get my six hours every night. On days when I go to bed after midnight, I skip going to the gym, and on days when I don't feel like getting up even after getting my six hours, I give my body the benefit of doubt.

Sleep is important. Now, off to grab my Zzzzz!!!

Goodnight!


Some facts on sleep deprivation –
- Short sleep duration (<5 or 5-6 hours) increased risk for high BP by 350% to 500% compared to those who slept longer than 6 hours per night. Paper published in 2009.
- Young people (25-49 years of age) are twice as likely to get high BP if they sleep less. Paper published in 2006.
- Individuals who slept less than 5 hours a night had a 3-fold increased risk of heart attacks. Paper published in 1999.
- Complete and partial lack of sleep increased the blood concentrations of High sensitivity C-Reactive Protein (hs-cRP), the strongest predictor of heart attacks. Even after getting adequate sleep later, the levels stayed high!!
- Just one night of sleep loss increases very toxic substances in body such as Interleukin-6 (IL-6), Tumour Necrosis Factor-Alpha (TNF-alpha) and C-reactive protein (cRP). They increase risks of many medical conditions, including cancer, arthritis andheart disease. Paper published in 2004.
- Sleeping for <=5 hours per night leads to 39% increase in heart disease. Sleeping for <=6 hours per night leads to 18% increase in heart disease. Paper published in 2006.
I haven’t checked the sources of any of these facts, but, even if only a few of them are true, it is obvious that lack of sleep is something one should be concerned about.

I know most of us push ourselves to the extreme. Spend a couple of minutes taking the Epworth Sleepiness Test –

 

A score of 0-9 is considered normal. Anything above that, and you may want to take a relook at your life.

Did you pass? Surprisingly (and reassuringly), I did!

T for "Test for Thyroid Today"

Four years back, when I was struggling to lose the weight I had put on between my two pregnancies, someone told me I should get my thyroid levels checked 'just in case'. Though I knew that one in five women was likely to suffer from a thyroid condition sometime during their lifetime, I never took the advice seriously. And when, after a lot of hard work, I actually managed to get back my pre-pregnancy weight, I shoved all thoughts of a potential thyroid condition into the attic of my mind.

Exactly a year back, I went to a gynaecologist for a routine check-up, and since I was getting a whole bunch of blood tests done, he asked me to get my TSH levels checked because as many as 35% of women over the age of 35 had a thyroid condition. I paid for the test, but never got down to picking up the report.

It was only when I was getting a battery of tests done prior to my hysterectomy that I found that the TSH levels in my blood were three times higher than the highest value in the normal range. I had been carrying a serious condition around for months, without even being aware of it.

Anyone I spoke to was amazed when I mentioned my condition to them. The most visible symptom of hypothyroidism is excessive weight gain- I had actually lost upto 10 kilogrammes and kept it off for over two years. Fatigue and lack of stamina were the next symptoms people looked for- a person who could run 10 kilometers did not particularly fit the bill. Depression, hair loss, ... none of the symptoms really fit. Sure I was snappy and irritable, but I chose to attribute it to the attitudes of some of the imbeciles I was surrounded by.

I had hypothyroidism, without displaying any of the symptoms associated with the condition, and I would never have found out about it if not for a purely routine test.

It is estimated that 59 million people in the US have a thyroid condition, but less than 20 million of them are diagnosed. My case was special, because I did not diaplay any of the symptoms. But think about the symptoms - weight gain, depression, fatigue, stress - they could be symptoms of a thyroid condition, or the manifestation of your lifestyle choices. When they feel tired or depressed, most women blame themselves- how many even think of getting tested for a thyroid imbalance?

It could be you, your mother, your sister, your daughter, your cousin, your best friend, your colleague, or it could be nobody you know. Get tested for Thyroid- all it takes is one pin-prick and a little bit of blood.

Edited to add - Ellie had an experience very similar to mine. She didn't gain weight, but couldn't lose the weight from the last pregnancy. She was tired. It took 3 years before she was finally diagnosed as having Hashimoto's.

Don't wait, just get tested. That one pill a day makes all the difference.
Top 10 things people should know about thyroid disorders.

F for Fighting Fat and Fitness

I was on the treadmill the other day, when I overheard a lady telling the attendant at the gym, “I have gained 2 kilos in the last three months. You have to get rid of it somehow.”

“I’ll do what I can”, the attendant said, a little unnecessarily, I thought. “But you need to put in effort from your side.”

“I don’t know about all that”, the lady said rather truculently. “You have to somehow get rid of those two kilos.”

The gym attendant asked the lady to get on the treadmill, and while she was walking, asked her basic questions about her history.

“Earlier, I could get rid of the extra weight by controlling my diet for a couple of weeks”, the lady said in reply to direct question. “But that’s not working anymore. Which is why I have come to you.”

“If that’s the case, Ma’am, maybe you should also consult a dietitian”, the attendant suggested gently.

“Nonsense! I know everything there is to know about diets and it is not working. You have to get rid of the extra weight.”

I struggled to keep the cynical look out of my face, while the exchange was going on. The lady had an almost enviable figure, and didn’t “need” to lose two kilos. While I totally advocate the need to incorporate exercise into your daily routine, I am always skeptical of people who set miniscule targets of weight loss – the moment they achieve their objective, they stop working out, and soon end up undoing all the good work. While I would be pleasantly surprised if proved wrong, this lady definitely fell in the category.

Since running always gives you time for reflection, I thought of the difference between that lady and me. I work out almost every day, and even on days when I don’t, I end up walking 2 to 3 kilometers on my way to and from work. And yet, my weight has remained stable for over two years. I would definitely like to lose a couple of inches in the lower part of the body , but don’t stress myself because the inch loss is just not happening. After all, I can now carry off practically anything I want to wear, and most of what I cannot carry off are clothes I wouldn’t want to wear in the first place.

Why then do I force myself to get out of bed in the morning, when I can easily skip the gym and sleep an hour longer?

Simply because fitness matters to me. After my surgery last year, the gynecologist was surprised at how quickly I was back on my feet- I wasn’t because I knew my muscles were strong, even if they did not look as toned as they could. I push myself in the gym, not because I want to lose weight, or get better muscle tone, but because I enjoy the adrenaline rush I get when I exercise- I am noticeably more grumpy on days when I skip my routine.

“I can’t do all that weights and things.” A complaining voice broke into my thoughts. “If I do, my body will ache for days. And in any case, I think bulging muscles don’t look good on women.”

“But, Ma’am, how can I make you lose weight if you don’t listen to me?”, the attendant tried to reason.

“How you make me lose weight is your lookout. I am not doing weight training.”

I should envy her figure, instead I felt sorry for her. With her attitude, she’ll never experience the joy of running, or the thrill of doing something she could not even dream of attempting a few weeks back.

Fighting fat is important, but Fitness is far more important to me.

Our own uniqueness

I was speaking to the mother of my older one's best friend the other day, and happened to mention that my son had told me that she had lovely, curly hair.

"It's not exactly curly", she clarified. "It is fizzly."

"That may be so", I replied. "But my son definitely thinks it is curly and pretty."

"Bless him", she said. "Tell him, he's made my day. But I wish I could believe it is anything other than plain fizzly."

There was clearly a disconnect. She's didn't seem to think much of her hair, but my son thought otherwise. I was wondering how it could be so, when I realised that I shared the same slightly ambivalent relationship with my hair.

I've got wavy hair. Not gently undulating waves, or bouncy on your face waves. Just plain unruly waves, which never seem to know how to behave. There are days when I try to tame it into submission with gels and hair grips, and there are days when I just run my fingers through wet hair and allow it do to just what it wants. Regardless of what I do, the result is not much different. How my hair looks on a given day has no relationship to the amount of time I put into it. I know I have decent hair - it is thick and soft - but because it doesn't measure up to what I want it to be, I am not as fond of it as I should be.

And I am definitely not the only one. Practically nobody I know accepts their hair for what it is - they are constantly trying to straighten it, or curl it. They blow dry their hair every day for purely cosmetic reasons, and smother it with gell and serums. Many of them are far more succuessful than I am (or maybe they just put in more effort), but they end up looking like clones of each other.

Why?

My son who has not yet internalised the current perceptions of female beauty thinks my 'unruly' hair, and his friend's mother's 'fizzly' hair are beautiful. Why then should we think otherwise? Why do we try so hard to be like everyone else, when each of us is unique in our own way? Why do we need others to tell us what our self-image should be?

Public display of flesh

Backless cholis, off-shoulder dresses. Strappy tops with straps slipping off, mini skirts ending inches above mid-thigh. Plunging necklines reaching almost to the belly button, slits ending at the belt.

A cocktail party? A lounge bar? The Oscars? No! The Annual Concert of my son's pre-school.

One would have thought the mothers and other assorted female relatives would have gone there to cheer the kids performing on stage, but it seemed like most of them were actually there to show off their designer togs.

Was the conspicocous display of flesh incongruous and in bad taste? I definitely thought so. Call me old fashioned if you like, but I think there are places where you can flash skin and places where you should not, and a School Concert is definitely not a place where you should.

But even more than the attire being inappropriate for the situation was the fact that most of the women just did not have the figures to carry it off. Except a few, the women were all grossly overweight, and what we were subject to was a public display of adipose struggling to burst out of skin. There were backs so fat you could not even make out the shoulder blades. There were wobbly arms thicker than my legs, there were stomachs that looked several months pregnant. In their place, I would have tried to conceal the extra folds I was carrying around with me- I really don't know what they hoped to achieve by squeezing them into clothes that only accentuated parts that were best left hidden.

While I personally stay away from clothes cut too low or too high, or too tight, I love women who can carry off revealing numbers. But for that, you need a good body- not a size zero one, but a toned one. What women achieve by flaunting clothes that only draw attention to features best left hidden I will never understand!