Balancing Act: A Guide to Creating the Perfect Meal Combination. And An Apology For Not Telling You About This Earlier.

Have you ever been annoyed by someone who mentions something in passing during conversation and never makes reference to it again, even though that very passing statement was the thing that interested you most? For instance:

You: "I love shopping at Ross! I found the best dress there!"

Annoying Person: "Yeah, and I found this really great navy suit there for my upcoming trial for holding my baby over a balcony like Michael Jackson. It was only $30! Say, we should go back sometime for pumps! I still need those for my suit. Unless you have any I could borrow...can we look in your shoe closet?"

You (sputtering): Um, sure...is black OK?"

Annoying Person: "Well, I don't know...what do you think? I was going to try for navy to match the suit, but do you think black would work? My silver heels are too flashy. Too bad, though...I got those for $7."

In the meantime, you could care less about the shoes. You are just wondering why your friend hung her baby over the balcony. And why in the world she would want to imitate Michael Jackson. And if now would be a good time to inform her that one of the Neverland Ranch pet tigers just died.

Anyway, I think I may have been that annoying person in my last blog. I kind of did this whole "balance proteins with carbs" spiel, and then never really followed through so you knew why that was part of my 30-day bridesmaid makeover. So, to avoid being likened to a psychotic King of Pop imitator, today's blog is following up on that, er, dangling thought.

One of the most critical elements that I stress in my health class is including both protein and carbohydrates in every meal and snack. And I am a little bit of a Journal Nazi about it when I review a person's diary that reveals that they only included one or the other in their snack time. I know that my students are trying to be really healthy, and that for them to list their snack as being an apple or watermelon instead of King-sized bag of M&M's is a huge step in the right direction. But, I also know that fruit alone just won't cut it. And when they swap out their Cheetos for a cheese stick, I'm really proud of them, but I remind them that something is missing.

The truth is, our bodies desperately need both components to survive. It really is a balancing act. While I may be a huge advocate for the elimination of processed carbohydrates like rice and white bread, I won't tell them to eat as much bacon as they want in lieu of their favorite bag of potato chips. This isn't Atkins 1.0.  My students aren't supposed to be afraid of the GL of watermelon or apples or carrots. In fact, according to the developers of my class curriculum, doing so is downright dangerous. Consider this sobering information:

Fun Fact: In a review of diet participants on an eating plan similar to the high-protein/low-carbohydrate Atkins diet, all participants who lost weight still had the same percentage of body fat at the end of their weight loss that they did going into it. Instead, participants lost water weight, glycogen stores, and muscle mass, but no real fat was burned off.

Translation: When deprived of the glycogen fuel stores that your body obtains from carbohydrates, your system turns on itself like some creepy alien child in a sci-fi movie. Once it works its way through water weight and the three-day supply of glycogen reserves, it starts literally eating itself, feeding off your muscle as fuel, which is pretty darn gross. And it doesn't even eat the fat off to take care of the real problem. So it's pretty much pointless.

I'm not a huge proponent of my students literally wasting away. Or of creepy alien sci-fi movies. So, I make sure they are replenishing their glycogen stores all the time by the inclusion of clean carbs with every lean protein source. And since many protein sources have little to no GL, they can still stay easily within their target GL range of 10 or less, while giving their bodies extra fiber that protein just can't provide.

But I don't want to see them eat only to fuel their glycogen stores, either. If glycogen is the fuel source of the body, the muscles are the metabolic engine. Just having an apple as a snack or a salad as a meal isn't really accomplishing anything, either. And that's where protein comes in.

Protein helps build the muscles that my students develop through a more active lifestyle, and when that happens, their bodies can literally burn fat while they sleep. As if that weren't awesome enough, protein is also the critical element in making their new healthy lifestyle sustainable. When a student seems to be struggling with dropping energy levels or constant hunger, I can almost bet you that they are eating only rabbit food and neglecting their protein intake. I hate seeing a journal that lists a salad for lunch. Unless that bad boy has some grilled chicken or chopped eggs on it, there is no way two cups of lettuce and a cucumber is going to get you through the demands of a work day. And since I don't want my girls ever going hungry, I hate to see them think that 3 celery sticks is all they need to survive. That is absolutely the quickest way to shut down your metabolism, my friends. It's amazing how a little Greek yogurt ranch dip or a couple of eggs added to that celery will carry you! Protein promotes satiety and gives you the stamina to power through until the next meal, and it is the best insurance policy against a metabolic crash.

So, in a perfect world, what does a good combination look like?*

• Crustless quiche with a side of fruit
• An apple dipped in Greek yogurt
• Cottage cheese with fresh pineapple
• Diced hard-boiled eggs on salad loaded with veggies of your choice
• Air-popped popcorn sprinkled with Parmesan cheese
• Black Bean soup
• Grilled chicken with bell peppers and pineapple
• Grilled fish with a side of quinoa
• Deli turkey wrapped around a few pickle spears (don't knock it 'til you try it)
• Caramel Turtle Nut Brownie with milk (no, seriously, it's good for you!)

*Thanks to my friends Bob and Vicki Mihaylov at Trinity Health Weight Loss for these fabulous ideas...it's highly unlikely I would have come up with ideas nearly that good. I mean, I don't see Cinnabon with Cream Cheese Frosting on here (cream cheese is protein, right?), so I'm pretty sure my ideas would have been a little sketchy....

OK, well I hope that this little post has cleared things up a bit and not left you lying awake at night with unanswered questions. Except for the enticing part about the brownie. I guess I'm more annoying than I thought.

Of Weddings and Waistlines: My 30-day Bridesmaid's Dress Makeover Plan

Today marks the one month countdown to the wedding of two dear friends of mine. It also marks the six-day deadline to my second bridesmaids' dress fitting. I am thrilled about the one, and dreading the other. I think you should be able to tell which I am looking forward to and which I am not. I mean, at one I get to eat cake, and at the other, any cake I've eaten can and will be used against me in a court o flaw. (I just made that one up myself.)

We've all been there before. Whether it's a company function or our ten-year high school reunion that you bought a dress for two months ago and thought, "I'll fit into it by then...," our lives are kind of marked by events that we should look forward to, but can't because we're not happy with our bodies. Thankfully, my friend has good taste and picked out dresses that were not only super cute, but very forgiving A-lines, so I should be able to skate by this wedding unscathed. That doesn't stop me, though, from wanting to crash-diet my way through the next month to see if I can't distract the pianist just a little bit during the ceremony. (The Hubs is the pianist, so I promise it's a completely legitimate goal.) But I know better than to do the typical skip-breakfast-and-subsist-on-carrots-and-rice-cakes thing. Instead, it's consistently applying what I already know to work. So here's my grand plan for wedding weight loss success:

Step #1: Eat more. 

OK, by a show of hands, how many of you went and checked my health teacher credentials when you read this? While it seems counter-intuitive to think that eating more can actually help your weight loss efforts, nothing could be more effective. Food is our body's fuel source, like the gasoline in our cars. Who waits until their low-fuel light is on to pump gas? (Confession: I actually drove over 20 miles of interstate with my low-fuel light on one time. God probably didn't mind it too much, because I'm pretty sure I had to pray the whole way home...) But when we *do* run our cars on fumes, they don't perform nearly as well as when they're topped off and ready to ride.

Our bodies are pretty much the same way. If you wait to eat until you're hungry, your body's low-fuel light has already come on. Your metabolism is no longer running at peak efficiency, and that means it's going to cling to those fat reserves like spandex to a muffin top. Neither scenario is pretty, my friends.

Once you're running on fumes, it's better to fill 'er up than to just put five bucks in, or you'll find yourself in the same pinch before you know it.  When you're running on empty, your poor little brain sends out an SOS to your body, because the little guy thinks he's drowning. He'll make you crave anything to get his sugar level back up to where he can function, and that's when something sugary that you know you shouldn't have suddenly look very appealing. The only problem with that is, once the brain has its quick fix, it'll be high as a kite for a while until it suddenly crashes again, and you'll be locked in some vicious cycle of grabbing a survival Snickers every time you start slowing down, and that, my friends, while tasty, is *not* the way to rock a bridesmaid's dress.

But I thought you said to eat more!!!  She is such a frustrating blogger, you may be thinking to yourself. But, relax. I got this. You know how they say it's easier to fill up a gas tank that's already almost full? The same principle applies here. The key is not eating more bad food that promotes an endless cycle of five-buck stops that leave you limping along on low-fuel until the next gas station, but rather topping off every time you eat with quality foods that never run you down to the low-fuel light in the first place.. Those fill-ups, by the way, should happen about once every three hours. And they should *not* be Snickers bars. Or even the highly-acclaimed Oreos of blog posts pasts. No, your body deserves premium grade gasoline, which, in food terms, is a combination of protein and carbohydrates every time you eat.

So, what does my rock-a-dress-while-eating-all-the-time menu look like? For me, it starts with a good meal-replacement shake that is totally balanced with protein for long-term energy and fullness and carbs for that little jolt to get me going. It also has a lot of fiber, which gets other things going, but I digress. They've done actual clinical studies with these bad boys, and the results are amazing. Besides, I adore these shakes, especially when I mix them up with a little fat-free cream cheese and vanilla extract on ice. I found the recipe on this website, but I'm pretty sure God made it up Himself, because it is heavenly. (Yes, I write all my own material.)

It also looks like summer fruit and Greek yogurt, a killer quiche recipe with a side salad, or hard-boiled eggs with raw veggies. For dinner, it may be a black bean soup or grilled chicken with peppers and pineapple. Oh, and the most flipping awesome healthy brownie for dessert. (I'm keeping *that* recipe under wraps...but I got your attention, didn't I?) Are you seeing the pattern here? There is protein and fresh, unprocessed carbohydrates in every choice, and you wouldn't believe how many Snickers bars I can resist when I eat like this (not that the brownies don't help..)! And I get to eat all the time! How awesome is that?

So, what does my plan NOT look like? Deprivation, hunger, and "give-me-the-Snickers-and-no-one-gets-hurt" moments. I never have to run on low fuel, and I never have to make crappy choices, because I know I'm just a couple of hours away from filling food. And brownies.

So, wish me luck, my friends. And, if you care to, join me in my makeover! Just write a comment or post to my Facebook page, and let me know you're up for eating a lot and losing weight, too! I'll teach you everything I know. And I may even share that brownie recipe with you.

PLAN B: If all else fails, shock them with an ugly dress. Nobody will be thinking about your weight then.

Mission Mondays: Patriotism, Politics, and Productivity

Happy Memorial Day, everyone! In this last installment of Mission Mondays, I'm going to delve into the dangerous world of politics a bit, just to keep things interesting and controversial enough to retain my 3-person reader base. I promise I won't get too offensive, and, in reality, I guess what I have to say is more patriotic than political. But, let's face it: which title word caught *your* attention more? I thought so.

I've always been interested in the political processes of our country. And I pretty much mean always. During George Bush's election campaign of 1988, I would get so excited whenever he appeared on TV that I would run up and kiss the screen. I would also repeatedly declare that, "Michael Dukakis is a tax-raiser!" I was seven. Do you realize how few of my first-grade friends were following the presidential campaign at the time? Well, I never got around to taking a Gallup poll during recess, but I would venture to say NONE.

Things hardly let up during my high school years. I took Government and Economics, found out about the dangers of Communism, and made an obscene number of statements that began with "If we do....., then the Communists win!" If they're looking for descendants of some secret love child of Joseph McCarthy, they might want to check my DNA.

As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that there is more to America than political campaigns and propaganda. That political theories debated in the classroom become presidential policies which affect an entire population. But, more importantly, individuals still have the power to change the tide of their family, their community, their nation.

Through my career, I get to offer people the freedom to craft a future of their own making. It doesn't matter what your past is like; you can still shape your future. My students can exchange junk food for real food; they can trade in channel surfing for power walking;  and they can trade in their "I have bad genes" attitude for one that says, "I will beat the odds."

The unemployed and unfulfilled can choose genuine well-being over welfare. Like the amazing Melting Pot we as Americans enjoy, my business team is made up of diversity that shows that the American Dream comes true for those who do. I've never been in a career where age, education, social standing, ethnicity, business experience, or credentialing matter less. Give me a person who is willing to learn and work, and watch the changes take place. When people are given control of their own future, some pretty awesome things happen.

The American Dream is still worth fighting for. I would like to think that all of troops who have ever sacrificed anything for this nation--including their time, their lives, and their own personal comforts--have not sacrificed in vain. That we in gratitude can give them an America filled with people who value freedom as much as our troops do. That we would be a nation of independents, not dependents. That we would never trade in freedom for free-loading. That we would be an America that they are proud to return to, a country full of individuals who realize that the power to choose is a precious gift, given to us at the expense of others, and stripped away from those who no longer value it . America would look like this:


"It is my right to be uncommon--if I can.
I seek opportunity--not security. I do not wish to be a kept citizen, humbled and dulled by having the state look after me.
I want to take the calculated risk; to dream and to build, to fail and to succeed.
I refuse to barter incentive for a dole. I prefer the challenges of life to the guaranteed existence; the thrill of fulfillment to the stale calm of utopia.
I will not trade freedom for beneficence nor my dignity for a handout. I will never cower before any master nor bend to any threat.
It is my heritage to stand erect, proud and unafrid; to think and act for myself, enjoy the benefit of my creations and to face the world boldly and say, "This I have done.'"
--Dean Alfange


This inspiring little quote is the essence of the American Dream, the spirit of the entrepreneur. All too often, we are willing to trade our joy for a job, our dreams for a deposit, and our hustle for a handout. Somewhere along the way, we need to be willing to trade in a little security for a lot of success, so that we can prove to the world that the free market works for those who try.


While I didn't really embark on this career path to save America, it's kind of cool to think I can play a small role in making her future brighter just by inviting someone to join my team. Forbes Magazine says that small businesses and entrepreneurs are the key to turning our economy around, and I believe it. My "Now Hiring" sign will never come down, because there is always room for one more self-starter to take the lemons life has handed him and make lemonade from them. Entrepreneurs can put America back to work, and give her the courage to dream about life beyond the unemployment line, about a life that never settles for less than its true worth. 


So this Memorial Day, the best way I can honor our men and women in uniform is to go out and make a difference in the America they love. I hope you'll join me in finding a way to do the same. Because if we don't, then the Communists win. Just had to throw that in there.

Bonus Quote: “Those who surrender freedom for security will not have, nor do they deserve, either one.” ― Thomas Jefferson

Interested in what I do? Or just freaked about the Commies taking over? Stick it to them with an entrepreneurial career! Check out this video and let me know how I can help you craft a better future! 

Mission Mondays: It's for the Good of the Children

Welcome back to Mission Mondays! If you're just joining us, this is a special feature of the blog where you get to take a peek into the method behind my madness and find out why I love what I do! If you were one of the twenty people who read my post last week and *still* came back for more, I commend you. And I would probably suggest a psychological evaluation, as well. But thanks for sticking with me anyway.

This week's topic: I work "for the good of the children." And I don't mean that in the way like fighting couples who want to wait until the last kid leaves the nest until they separate do. Nothing emotionally devastating like that. And I don't mean it like some ditzy Miss America contestant would say it, when she lists off her stereotypical goals of world peace and ending hunger. No, I mean I love what I do and I do what I do because I think kids deserve to grow up healthy, and I think Moms deserve to play an active role in their well-being.

Here's an experiment for your day-after-Mother's-Day amusement: Take three kids, preferably your own, if you have that many. Now pick your least favorite (you know who it is...), buy them a Happy Meal, then blindfold them, and tell them not to use one appendage for the day.  After you've completed the experiment and paid the shrink bills for little Johnny, who has now confirmed what he has always suspected--that Susie really *is* your favorite--come back and read this post.

Did you know that the odds of today's kids developing diabetes are 1-in-3? And did you know that, while you may have gotten to *choose* to afflict your least favorite child in this experiment, diabetes can strike your *favorite* kiddo and leave them with a lifetime of health problems that could eventually result in blindness and amputations???? While my experiment may have been off-the-wall and you may be a completely unbiased parent resentful of my assuming you had an obvious favorite like my grandmother does, I hope you let the point of it sink in. Our kids are at risk of being the first Americans to live shorter lives than their parents because of the food culture we've created for them. Couple that with less play time and more PlayStations, and we have a recipe for an unprecedented health crisis in our nation.

As a woman, I believe I have been entrusted with one of the most sacred responsibilities known to man: cooking dinner. I don't know where you fall on the women's lib spectrum, but I tend to enjoy the traditional female role of being the family chef. In this way, I can achieve two main goals: 1) look like wife-of-the-year every night I make a quality meal, and 2) avoid eating the monotonously bland menu of unseasoned chicken breasts and pre-packaged lettuce that I would be subject to if the Hubs were in charge of mealtimes. I believe that women have a HUGE influence over the health of their family just by choosing what meals and snacks will be served in the home and sent in the Justin Bieber lunchbox. 

Personally, when we have a family of our own, I want those little guys and girls to think of ground turkey meatballs as normal, and Goldfish crackers as a snack for bad kids who don't get to eat Mommy's air-popped popcorn with her while she watches Survivor. One of the coolest things I ever saw was a 5-year-old ask her Mom what a Snickers bar was, because she honestly had no idea what delightfully dangerous goodness lay underneath that pretty packaging. That's the type of Mom I want to be (sort of--I think my kids will be able to pick out a Snickers bar in a line-up), and I have the privilege of helping other Moms make healthy the new norm for their families, too. I get to show them how simple it is to cook a healthy meal, how capable they are of providing their kids with the nutrition their little bodies need to thrive and grow, and how much fun it is to have family races and bike rides that don't involve Mario Kart.

Aside from changing family meal times, one of my greatest passions is to give Moms more time with their children. One of the main reasons I chose my career is for the flexibility and power it gave me to earn an income without missing out on the big moments and the little moments that I want to enjoy with my kids. I really don't want to miss a thing. (You can thank me for having a continuous loop of that Aerosmith song in your head later...)   Now, I realize that some Moms are way happier with an eight-hour-a-day break from domestic life, and I totally respect that. But it absolutely breaks my heart to see a Mom who wants to stay at home go back to the office, or a stay-at-home Mom go without, just because neither of them realize that you don't have to sacrifice time for money or money for time. 

I personally choose not to subscribe to the faulty theory that bread-winning and baby-snuggling are mutually exclusive. I don't even have kids yet, and I can't imagine being forced to leave them just to take in a paycheck. Could I choose to leave them for a time? If it's shoe shopping or a Snickers sale, heck yes. No, in all seriousness, I believe that women should decide what's best for their families, instead of letting circumstances dictate their actions. One of my biggest dreams for my business is to have a team of amazingly gratified women who pay for their kids' braces, ballet, and baseball and *still* get to watch every game and recital because their career choice gave them the opportunity to do both.

It's almost as good as having your cake and eating it, too. If you follow the link to this easy, healthy cake, you can do both AND be a dinner goddess tonight.


Bonus Quote: The future destiny of a child is always the work of the mother.  
- Napoleon Bonaparte
Um.....I wonder where his Mom went wrong? Probably too much French bread.

Mission Mondays: Why I Do What I Do (And We're Not Talking Ice Cream and Cinnabons Here...)

Welcome to the newest feature of the Waist Management blog, affectionately to be known henceforth as Mission Mondays! This is designed to give you a little more insight into the meaningful side of a being a health and wellness entrepreneur/ health coach, not just the fringe benefits of looking up facts about Snickers, Cinnabons, and Oreos. Why do I do what I do? Why do I care about the obesity crisis in America? Whose lives have I seen get better? What makes me think you have any business reading about my business of helping other people with their business?  You will find answers to these and other compelling questions that none of you have lost any sleep over in this feature!

So, with all my confessionals about being in love with chocolate and growing up as an awkwardly nonathletic child, you may be wondering how in the world I became so fascinated by the world of health & wellness. There's probably not a short answer to that question. Or any question I've ever been asked. Which is exactly why I write blogs and why I haven't joined Twitter, with its oppressive 140 character limit.

While a love for wellness may be in my genes, I didn't really become aware of how powerful and life-changing wellness could be until I started working for a local chiropractor in 2004. (And, yes, I will unabashedly give a plug right here for Dr. Dale Goode ...the man is amazing!) Through his work, I saw that people who had resigned themselves to a life of pain became whole again without surgery and without medication that had harmful side effects. I saw the power of the human body to heal and correct itself, given the proper guidance of experienced hands. And, most importantly, I saw people regain hope. Hope that they could walk upright again, hope that they could sit through their grandson's high school graduation without excruciating pain, hope that they could swing a golf club or hold a grandbaby or simply just tackle their daily to-do list painlessly.

And that's exactly what my business is all about. Hope. Every day, I have the opportunity to offer hope to women who feel stuck in their bodies; by teaching them to feed their body right, they discover that losing weight is more than just wishful thinking. I offer hope to people whose stiff joints keep them from bringing their best on the court; by finding nutrients that reduce inflammation and improve mobility, they rediscover the joy of motion.  I offer hope to the Mom who doesn't want to miss out on all baby's firsts; by inviting her to join my team, she discovers how to earn a living without sacrificing a life. I offer hope to those stressed out by the economy, deceived by "job security," and disgruntled with the status quo. I offer hope to those who have just "learned to live with the pain" and those who believe that their best days are behind them, only to discover that there's more life in their body now than there has been in years.

I guess the key to that hope is discovering that their problem has a solution. That nothing is permanent, and, given the right tools, nearly any situation can improve. Through this industry, I've heard mind-blowing stories of MS patients walking again, fibromyalgia patients getting back in the saddle (literally!), and Moms carrying babies to full-term after suffering a series of miscarriages. And I've watched hope emerge on a smaller scale, too, as women drop dress sizes, go off their blood pressure medication, or realize that diabetes doesn't have to be "in the cards" for them.  I've personally watched the Hubs morph from musician to triathlete, and I went from meandering to marathoning, because I have seen that hope fuels change, and change fuels solutions, and solutions fuel results. At any rate, it's a game-changer!

So maybe the next time I go to write my job title down, I'll just scratch the Certified Trinity Health Coach and write "Purveyor of Hope" or something snazzy like that. That sounds pretty cool, don't you think?

Bonus Feature: Mission Mondays will also come with an inspiring or motivational quote at the end of each article, written or spoken by folks way more famous or eloquent than I am. You know, people who don't have food fantasies or people who have like, 3, blog followers. Check out this thought for the day:

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive."--H. Thurman 

(Thanks, Dr. Libby Weaver, for posting this on Facebook! Check out her amazing work, Accidentally Overweight, and remember to read it with an awesome Aussie accent in your head. Because she has one. And I want one.)

Forgive Me, Father, for I Have Cinn(abon)ed

If I were Catholic, I would invent a confession booth for health class teachers. It would be a tiny little box where they could purge themselves of the guilt of knowingly consuming bad food, even if they cannot purge the food itself. These booths would be set up strategically in vacation hotspots across the country, where these offenses are most likely to occur. Just outside the booth--which would feel uncomfortably small, due to the weight gain caused by offending foods--would be a line of other healthy people, furtively glancing around and hoping nobody else sees them there, but taking comfort in the fact that those in line with them blew it, too. When it was my turn to confess, I would start out like this: "Forgive me, father, for I have Cinn(abon)ed. I should have listened to my skinny shoulder angel, who warned me against the dangers of a high-glycemic breakfast; but I chose instead to listen to the tempting voice of my shoulder devil, who, incidentally, smelled like fresh-baked rolls and cream cheese frosting. Which is really almost irrestible." Then, the father--who would probably be someone like Dr. Oz -- would raise his eyebrows in disapproval at my justification, so I would add: "But inexcusable nonetheless." Then he would probably tell me to throw 500 Hail Marys (the football kind) and drink 70-ounces of kale juice to come clean. If I refused to comply, there would be some sort of health-teacher purgatory where you have to sweat to the oldies with Richard Simmons for six months before being released. Suddenly, kale would seem appealing.

Yes, I wish there were a confession booth for these things. But, since there are not, I am using this blog as one. Lucky you.

The offense occurred at the end of my most recent vacation. The hubs and I had traveled to Las Vegas to spend time exploring Sin City with his family. There are plenty of sins to be sinned there, not the least of which is gluttony. You don't find many cities boasting of a place like the Heart Attack Grill, where they keep an EMS staff ready at all times to cart off any ill-fated customers, and give free food to those weighing over 350 pounds. Truly, I find the whole concept abhorrent, and extremely ironic, since Vegas is also the home to some of the most incredibly fit people I'd ever seen in the Cirque du Soleil shows. In general, my eating habits fall somewhere between Heart-Attack-Grill-bad, and Cirque-worthy good. While I don't *expect* myself to eat perfectly on vacation, eating an entire Cinnabon was a pretty egregious offense. And I paid for it dearly, with an almost-immediate sense of mental fatigue and fogginess and an irresistible desire to sleep every second of the first two legs of our return flight. In short, I experienced typical responses to a severe glucose spike.

Today, I had the courage to face my demons and find out how much damage that gooey monster really did. I knew it would be bad when the carb content was a three-digit number. My "It's vacation" indulgence was a doozy. In fact, I gasped audibly when I saw the nutrition facts, proving that my skinny shoulder angel is still alive and well. Turns out that Cinnabon's manufacturers have managed to cram the calories of two slices of pizza, along with the sugar content of two Snickers bars into that one little roll-in-a-box! And the 13 grams of protein do nothing to combat the astronomical glycemic load of 78. No wonder the hubs said he had never seen me that exhausted. My body was basically using as many resources as it could to process that bad boy, which is why I had no energy whatsoever. That, and my brain thought it was drowning, poor little guy.

I hope and pray that I am not the only one who has ever blown it this bad. If you've never eaten a Cinnabon, don't. It is so much easier to resist forbidden fruit if you've never tasted how good it is. I consider the hubs entirely to blame for introducing me to Cinnabon, and if they ever do invent a health food confessional, I'll be sure to throw him under the bus along with my sweet-scented shoulder devil. But, if you have ever indulged in a Cinnabon or anything else with a GL equivalent to four slices of pizza, consider these top three coping mechanisms, which are guaranteed to work at least as well as a confessional booth, and don't pose the threat of Richard Simmons in spandex:

1) Walk It Off-- Any sort of aerobic activity increases your insulin sensitivity, giving your body a fighting chance of processing at least some of the influx of glucose effectively. I probably should have done laps around the airport terminal instead of checking my Facebook before boarding. Or run another half-marathon on the Tarmac. *That* might have been just enough to level me off!

2) Share the Blame-- Nothing lightens a glycemic load quite like sharing an indulgence. If the hubs and I had split that delicious temptation, I might not have slept through nearly four hours of flight time; though, considering the in-flight movies were not complimentary, I'm not sure how much of life I truly missed out on.  Regardless, I would have put my body through half as much stress, and probably been able to write more of an advice column than a confessional.

3) Overcompensate-- True story: One of the top doctors in my company actually chugs a glass of this fiber supplement  whenver he knows he's going to have a slice of cake. The fiber slows down the entire process of converting food into sugar, so that cake isn't *quite* so detrimental to his system as it would be otherwise. The biggest mistake you can make is "saving your calories" for something bad by passing up an opportunity to consume something good. Without good food to taper the effects, your body actually reacts to the bad choice more severely than it would with a little fiber or protein in its system.

So, until they invent the health-nut confessional, the next time I overdo it, I think I'll take my own advice and do something good for myself. And I'll probably try to avoid big errors like this in the first place, because I would really hate to run into Richard Simmons. That seems like punishment enough for anyone.

Ice Cream Stains on My Race Jersey

So, you know that part in my personal introduction where I told you that I might reveal how health freaks mess up sometimes? I would now like to make good on that promise by telling on myself. And it won't be pretty. Which is why some of you will love it.

Just over two weeks ago, I finished my first half-marathon. It was a beautiful feeling. While I took longer than I had planned to, I still relished the sense of accomplishment that comes when a dream like that is realized. I got more than a little giddy at having my first legitimate finisher medal. And I love the technical tee that I got in my enrollment packet. It's soft, breathable, and, obviously, super cool because it comes from a flipping half- marathon. I wear that bad boy whenever I think I can get away with it.You would be amazed at how many times it has made it into the wardrobe rotation in little more than 14 days.

Just over a week ago, it was Free Cone Day at Ben & Jerry's. The Hubs and I are pretty frugal folks, so that word "free" caught my attention. The Hubs and I are also supposed to be pretty healthy folks, but Ben & Jerry's had me at hello. I was going to go get me some of that scrumptious stuff and cross my fingers that none of my health class students caught me there. And the only reason they *would* see me there is if they too were indulging, at which point I had my handy "judge-not-lest-ye-be-judged" retort ready. After all, I get to read their food diaries.

Guess what I wore to Free Cone Day? Yep. My race jersey. The Hubs went in one of his triathlon jerseys, and we laughed heartily at ourselves and our hypocrisy as only two people obsessed with health can do. Because it's really not that funny otherwise.

Guess what I dripped all over my race jersey? Yep. My Free Cone. Which, incidentally, I had upgraded to a waffle cone with an extra scoop of ice cream. It was only $2, and it supported the schools. Of course, I could also have supported the schools by getting the new frozen Greek yogurt varieties, but I wasn't interested in small cones, or offerings that did not include chocolate. And the chocolate is exactly what landed on three different spots of my race jersey. The diet gods sought their revenge for my poor choice, and they got me where it hurt the most.

NOTE: This picture is from Google images. It isn't me. It doesn't

look a thing like me. Heck, if my skin were that tan, I would care less

about being caught with a face full of chocolate. Or ice cream. Or both.

Thankfully, my jersey is fine now, thanks to a little pre-treatment with Dawn dishwashing liquid, which I am not paid to endorse, but now feel I ought to be. It looks like nothing ever happened, and it is ready to be worn on whatever food adventure carries me off next.

For the most part, my body looks like nothing ever happened, but that can't be quite true. Every time we eat something with a GL over 20, we send our glucose levels on a roller coaster ride that causes weird things to happen. Things like arterial spasms that we never feel. Things like energy depletion that we do feel. Truth be told, ice cream served at home isn't *that* bad on the glycemic load spectrum. A half-cup serving, on average, has a GL of about 8. While I don't heartily advocate it, because it's really not what any dietician would dub a balanced snack, it certainly isn't the worst blood sugar offender out there. 

So what's the big deal about my ill-fated foray on Free Cone Day? In the world of glycemic loads, size really does matter. Have you ever seen a half-cup of ice cream? It's less than you think. It may have been the size of the single-scoop Free Cone, but I know that those upgrades put it over the top. In fact, I checked out the facts for the closest competitor I could find, Cold Stone Creamery, and found out that even their smallest offering, the Like It-sized serving, is over three times as large as that half-cup serving we are supposed to have. And guess what that does to the GL, my friends? It suddenly turns ice cream into a glycemic nightmare. If you don't believe me, check out one of my favorite websites, NutritionData.com and see the GL of your favorite flavor for yourself. Fortunately for me, they don't have a listing for "Ben & Jerry's Free Cone, Super-sized for Maximum Cellular Damage." 


On the flipside, size matters in another way. If you split a treat--or any food for that matter--with someone, you can cut your glycemic load in half. Assuming you're not a territorial pig who eats all but one bite. And assuming you and that someone can agree on ice cream flavors, which would never happen in our home. The Hubs is a wonderful man, but let's just say that his taste in women is, in general, far superior to his taste in ice cream flavors. His ice cream choices don't exactly raise the bar too high for his taste in women, but if you're reading this, I trust you think he's done all right in choosing a life partner. I mean, I ran a half-marathon for crying out loud. That trumps lame-o Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream any day of the week.

Wanna know what we did when we went home from Free Cone Day? Watched Biggest Loser and did crunches during commercial breaks. How ironic is that?