Snookies or Snooki!

As many of you little Beaver boys and girls know, Snookies Malt Shop opened last Sunday. Per the recommendation of my friend and super-mom, Jen McD, my first 2011 Snookies treat was a peppermint dip cone. (Note the Calvinistic-scowl on the Tiger. While he does eat ice cream, he doesn't approve of it.)

A-maz-ing, yo! It's the perfect combination of creamy and minty, and look at that color! Pink, for girls! This is my de-facto summer Snookies treat. Though, a small dip cone though sets me back about 330 calories and 16 grams of fat. Of course, that's better than the jumbo banana malt my friend Pete always orders (1020), but still.

I cannot, and I mean, I cannot live without ice cream, even soft serve, so I'll have to be careful with my neighborly indulgence. When I think about ice cream, I'll just think of how much beach football I would have to play with the other Snooki to burn off those calories.

And, that would be 25 awesome minutes! I don't care what anyone says, Snooki is amazing.

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I Know What I Hate, and I Don't Hate Yoga: A PhotoEssay

I've always had an uneasy relationship with yoga. I want to like it. I do, but an unsettling amount of "coordination" and "quieting your mind" required. I took my first yoga class at a hippie-studio in Iowa City, where they made us mediate and flush our nostrils with salt water. I was not impressed.

Since then I've dabbled with yoga, but I have very little ability to use my mind to make one particular body part go where the instructor says it should go. I don't do aerobics classes or Zumba classes for this reason, and when I am training with Gwyn, I often have think for a moment when she tells me to change legs or move my arms at the same time.

All that changed when I found Jen! Jen is fabulous. She teaches yoga twice a week, Mondays and Wednesdays at 5:45, in her studio beneath T-Graphix.

From the outside, it doesn't look like much.














But, it's close to her husband's bike shop, Beaverdale Bicycles (more on that in the future).














And, if you need a rain barrel, well, that's down there too.














Once you get inside the yoga studio though, it's a whole different story. The space is set up for "functional fitness" in the morning, and yoga at night. It's dark and serene and well-heated.

Here's Lexi signing in. Lexi got me started with Jen's class. Thanks Lex.














The name for the yoga studio is still in flux. Every time I got to class, it seems, there's a new name on the marker board. First, it was "Fitness Co-op," then "B-Yoga," and now, "Grass Roots Yoga." (Notice the very competitive pricing!). Which do you prefer?



















Jen's really nice. Every time I go to yoga class she gives me a hug and tells me how happy she is to see me. Isn't that nice? I knew she wouldn't mind really posing for a picture.



















And, then, yoga class happens. I can't take pictures, because I am working hard. Jen teaches the class so that each person (and all types of folks go) can make it as hard or as easy as they like. There's plenty of plank and cobra, along with some death-defying poses like the "crow" and some ab poses. It's challenging, and unlike some yoga, it feels like a workout.

There was a moment on Wednesday, when we finished some downward dog-plank-leg lift stuff, and when I stood up, I actually felt taller. Then, at the end of the day, we get to lay out on our backs in the "corpse" pose and just have a little quiet time, like you used to do in elementary school during nap time. Afterwards I am left feeling wrung out like a damp rag and very happy. The world just seems nicer.

Then, I drive home, past this tree. Isn't it pretty?














At home, I see, that the White Tiger has wrangled the coffee cups out of his car and lined them up neatly on the front-porch sofa. No more trying to drink coffee out of a cupped palm. Whoo-hoo.














Then, the White Tiger himself appears. He's been enjoying some beer while wearing his new vest. He likes to look snappy, even when he's just hanging out with the puppy.



















Then, the puppy comes outside to say hello.














But, she's excited, and spinning, so I can't get a good picture of her.














Finally, she stops for a sniff.














Then, sits nicely for a photo.














Then, she decided, I need a dog-mustache, which should probably be a yoga pose, because it's surprisingly relaxing.

Half the Rice, Revised

A few blogs ago, I blogged about my existential-blog crisis. I wasn't really sure that the goals I set out to accomplish in this blog really worked for me anymore, but I didn't want to let the "blog-o-sphere" down. And, by blog-o-sphere, I mean the 6 people that read this blog.

I pulled out a call for thoughts, opinions, and suggestions, and my dear, supportive readers answered.

Steven, bless her, devoted an entire, soul-baring blog to my existential blog crisis. Steven has long been my "Kenyan." Wherever I am, she's three steps ahead. I look to her for the advice and wisdom of someone who has been down this road. Now, she's even there to show me how a person "eats crow" in the world of fitness blogging.

She writes, "Fitness is hard. Blogging is hard. Fitness blogging will often just hand you your own ass." She makes a good point. When you blog about your fitness, you are putting it all out there. It's scary because not only are we grappling with the possibility of failure, but public failure.

We blog for accountability, but accountability alone won't create success. And, success alone isn't really what we are working towards. If I just wanted to be successful, I would blog that my goal is to drink delicious beer every night and eat cookies. That I can do.

Fitness blogging is about the challenge, it's about moving forward, learning from failure, celebrating success, and, most importantly, just being there for one another. Steven, I love you man!

Just like Steven, my other friends, who are incredibly smart, also knew just what I needed.


















So, the goals and outcomes for this blog are going to change. Maybe change isn't the right word, maybe it's about becoming more fluid, like "revision." I'm a writing teacher. Maybe I need to practice what I teach.

I started this weight loss journey with a deadline and grand finale. But, that deadline shouldn't be a date: it should be ASAP. And, there's no grand finale to living healthy and being the person I want to be, no matter how many mountains I can climb or pounds I can shed.

There's not going to be a heart-warming bookend, but that's kind of awesome. If you believe the old cliche, it's not the destination, it's the journey, then it's good to not have an end point, but to carry on, and on.

So I am going to "revise."














As I tell my students, it's not throwing away what you've done, but figuring out where it can take you.

I still want to lose half of my body weight. It's a lot, and doing that is a lot harder than I anticipated, but it's where all those fancy BMI calculators say I need to be. It's a ballsy goal, and I like that. Will I get there by the time I turn 30? Probably not. But, if I work hard, and remember where I am going, I know I will be well on my way by the time I turn 30. Foxy new outfits here I come.

As for Half Dome, it's not in the cards for this summer, and that's okay. I only want to do things that I am excited about, and that gorgeous granite monolith is not rocking my socks off. What does rock my socks off is my new career as a professional athlete and the chance to see some good friends this summer, including Steven and the Mayor and their irrational, albeit, adorable small one.

Turning myself lose from both the deadline is terrifying, but it's also thrilling. I feel like a weight has been lifted, and maybe that will let me lift more weight in the gym. I know that without the grand finale, I will need to be hyper-vigilant about keeping myself on track. I know I can do it, though, and if I start to slip, I know who will be there to help me back up!

What I'll Do on My Summer Vacation: Become a Professional Athlete

On March 27th I climbed 1,00 stairs for the Fight for Air Climb. The night before the climb, my sister Emily and I did some "carbo-loading" with fancy bread and pizza. After the climb, I got a therapeutic adjustment from a handsome young chiropractoristory student from the D.M.U. All of that exercise, and smart eating, and competition, and therapeutic palpitating was so good that I decided it must be great to live like a professional athlete.

Then, I became a sloth.

But this summer, I've decided to become a professional athlete. I am going to live the life, buddy. Weight lifting, extreme dog-walking, locally-grown home-cooked meals, massages, bike riding, foam rollering, and hot tubs if I can find them!

Question: "Who," you ask, "which team is going to sponsor you?" Is it Trek? Is it Mountain Hardwear? Is it Chuck's Garage down on east 6th avenue, honest service, honest prices, seasonal flooding?

Nope, it's me.

Lauren Rice is proud to announce the birth of Team Rice. I am going to sponsor my own summer of professional athlete-ism, with myself footing the bill! No complaints about the team budget here: it's mine. No shilling sports drinks for "the man," because I'm him. No pressure to "win," because, as you know, I've already won.

Question: "Lauren," you ask, "how are you going to afford to live the life of a professional athlete?"

Answer: I'm going to keep working. This summer I am scheduled to teach two classes online. That's part time, with no commute. Once those classes are set up for the summer, the bulk of my work will be grading papers and answering emails. Once that's done for the day, it's off to the gym followed by a nice "recovery beverage" of chocolate milk, a power nap, and a bike ride. I already shell out for my "workout facility" (YMCA) and "coach" (a combination of Gwyn and my bike boyfriends). I'll just budget for a little extra Advil and some massage time and bam!

Furthermore, I'm don't have to pay to enter all those "races" and "events," except for, you know, The Big Ride. For example, I don't have to be bothered with flying to France with my many team bikes, paying domestiques, or bribing doping officials. Team Rice will compete with the only worthy adversary, Team Rice.

Question: "What will the typical schedule of a Team Rice Athlete look like?"

Answer: It will look like whatever I want, but here's an example of a typical day spent training with Team Rice.

6:00 am Extreme dog walk
7:00 am Weight training at the YMCA with top fan, Lexi
8:30 am Breakfast and shower
9:00-12:00 am Work (school, social networking, blogging, and answering Team Rice fan mail).
12:00 pm Lunch
1:00-4:00pm Bike Ride
4:00-7:00 House and Garden Work
7:00 pm Dinner and Tiger Time
10:00 pm Sleepy Time

Of course, the schedule may vary. Perhaps, one day, I will want to increase the amount of gardening from regular gardening to extreme gardening, then I can decrease the bike ride. On Tuesdays, I'll hit Gwyn's H.E.A.T. class which will leave me too busted to walk, so I'll need an afternoon of recovery at Saylorville Lake. Wednesday nights there's yoga, and I'd love to sample the Ed Veak workout at the Fitness Co-op. Permutations abound with the Team Rice schedule, but suffice to say, it's going to be pretty extreme.

Question: "So what's life really like at Team Rice headquarters?"

Answer: Banging. The life of a Team Rice athlete is amazing. Team Rice athletes have 24-7 access to a puppy and the love of their life. Team Rice athletes are provided with posh housing and accommodations at the luxurious "Tiger Den" where meals are cooked to order by their personal in-house chefs. Team Rice athletes are also mentally stimulated through the teaching of Composition 105 and through rigorous blogging.

In fact, the only thing that is missing in the life of a Team Rice athlete is permission to turn a fun little work out hobby into a full-time (summer) job. This summer, permission granted.

Team Rice officially launches May 11th, with the completion of spring semester grading, so stay tuned for Team Rice updates on this blog and @lrrice on Twitter.

High! My First Spam!

Oh, it's a fine day when your silly, self-indulgent fitness blog gets enough attention to warrant SPAM! Check out the SPAM comment that was posted on my "More Asses" blog, but please don't click on the link.

One of my jobs as an intern for the fabulous Mother Jones magazine was to go through the various blog comments and remove crazy SPAM, so I am excellent at identifying it.

The SPAM comment will be removed post-haste, but I wanted everyone to see how awesome I am, and in some ways Daniel123 was a little cyber-robot-Asian-hacker boost of confidence: my sister's ass is a good topic that people need to know about. And, everything is attainable in the freelance writing service. So, "high!" to you Daniel123, "high" to you.

More Asses! Why I Like Riding With My Sister

One thing you need to know about my sister, The Emily Show, is that she yells, a lot. Often, at me. And, while I have used to blog to vent about that yelling, I do have to say, I appreciate her. The Emily Show has signed up, whole-heartedly, for many of my fitness adventures.

Another thing you need to know about The Emily Show is that she doesn't do anything half-assed. What started with a well-costumed 5k at the Red Flannel Run has turned into a near complete co-optation of my fitness adventures. The Emily Show is signed for RAGBRAI and she's training for the Dam-to-Dam (which I can't do I have a scheduling conflict, dang!).

The Emily Show, much like my friend Steven, cajoles (mocks) and encourages (bullies) me into doing things I would otherwise resist, like training for the Fight for Air Climb by climbing the stairs at the Principal Building, then shopping for antiques.

And, while I grumble, I do appreciate the assist in getting out of my comfort zone.

The Emily Show also really believes in training programs. She's trying to fill out the RAGBRAI training program like a timed math test. She wants to get all the answers right! So, we've been trying to get out on some rides.

Last week, The Emily Show ran over to my house before our bike ride (that's her Dam-to-Dam + RAGBRAI training schedule, just do both). Needless to say, she was a little useless on our little 10 mile bike ride.

What wasn't useless though, was her hilarious outfit: The Emily Show ran over to my house, then rode her bike 10 miles in what was basically a pair of thin fashion leggings and what looked like a lace thong (see the picture above). Her outfit choice (the crescent moon?) not only gave me plenty of material to mock her with, but also made me want to ride at least fast enough to not have to see her behind.

I will give her credit though. What she lacks in coverage, she makes up for in quality.

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Existential Blog Crisis: Thoughts?

If you've been reading the fine print of this blog, you'll know that my "plan" for like my life, was to lose a bunch of weight (half my body weight) and then climb Half Dome in honor of my 30th birthday. When I concocted that plan, it sounded like such a good idea, possibly even a book-marketable idea (hey, a gal's got to dream), but lately, I have some doubts about the feasibility of that dream on two levels.

One: Climb Half Dome for my 30th birthday
These days, for safety, hikers need to reserve a permit to climb Half Dome. I need to register for my permit by May 1 if I am going to hike in August. Along with that I need to round up any possible hiking companions and make sure they have permits. I'll need to schedule the trip, buy plane tickets, rent a car, and find a place to stay in the Yosemite area.

Climbing Half Dome seemed like the perfect book end (eh, eh?) to my weight loss adventure. I concocted the scheme more two years ago, when I hit my fatness rock bottom whist trying to climb to the top of Yosemite Falls.

Now, though, trying to fit a climb up Half Dome seems like a lot of work. Billy and I are trying to figure out our summer plans, and between RAGBRAI and weddings, and trying to get out to Portland, it all just seems like a little much.

I feel this nagging obligation to do it anyway because:

a) I said I would on this blog.
b) I am terrified that I am secretly not doing it because I am chickening out.
c) Well, now what? Without an end point am I going to just peter out?

Weeks ago Gwyn and I were discussing my goals and she kept asking me why I wanted to change, why I wanted to lose weight, and get fit. Is that what I really want? It was a tough conversation, but it does make me really think about is this what I really want?

Two: Crunches and the Number
Two years ago, losing all this weight seemed just giving us a piece of cake. I had plenty of time, but now the clock is ticking. Will I be able to make it happen? At this point, I am sure I can still kick some ass, but I am not as confident about getting to that final number.

Losing weight, I've learned, takes an incredible amount of concentration. I really need to focus. I can't drop the ball and not go to the grocery store, not go to the gym, not pay attention when one beer turns into three. And, I haven't been giving it that level of concentration. I will have more time in the summer to workout, eat right, etc. but maybe not enough time.

My question, dear readers, is can I re-evaluate the "promises I made to the blog-o-sphere"? Can I change my goals, change my expectations? Is that okay? (I am really asking myself these questions). I don't like the idea of working really hard towards a goal that I don't necessarily want, nor do I want to fail to hit an arbitrary deadline.

Of course, time is a-ticking. The longer I remain at this weight, the more risks I am exposing myself to, not just physical health risks, but also mental health risks. A person can only go for so long not living the life they feel they are meant to live. I don't want to go through the rest of my life letting my self down. The line between changing my goals and giving up seems so fine and blurry and far away.

Maybe blogs have to grow with the people who write them. That's what makes them cooler than books. Sometimes a running blog grows into a boob-blog. My blog has grown from a chronicle of my adventures to a cheap, public therapist.

Part of me wanted to sneak into my template design in the middle of the night, change all that crazy stuff in the header and sidebars, and call it a day, but that wouldn't be fair, right? Dearest readers, your thoughts?

Today, I would like to celebrate April, the month in which I completed my first 5k + animal costume dressing-up in. To commemorate this special day, I would like to offer up this video from Cake.

A) Who knew that this was the video for this song?
B) Is there some cosmic connection between running and people in animals costumes?