Lowered Weight, Raised Confidence

Well, the weather has perked up a bit and my mood, likewise. Getting back into the Rhythmball "swing" (little pun there) of things and wondering why more people aren't giving the sport a try. I think it might have something to do with lack of confidence.

It's funny -- we Americans have this reputation of being brash and self-confident, but when it comes to athletic abilities that brashness goes right out the window. I was talking to a certified personal trainer this week, telling him about Rhythmball. He hopped online and looked at the Rhythmball home page. This is a guy who does martial arts and is in top physical condition, and yet his first impression upon seeing the little movie on the home page? "Wow. I could never do that."

Why is it that we're raised to believe that we can do anything, and yet inherently doubt our own physical abilities? I'm no Martha Graham -- in fact, if I were a celebrity (working on it) I could be in a show called "Falling Down with the Stars." And yet, I managed to keep the ball on the Rhythmball paddle consistently after only one practice session, and had most of the first set of tricks mastered after only two or three go-arounds.

It's not that hard, people! It can even be done sitting down if you want to start off easy or are a "wheeled" individual (in fact, Rhythmball was originally developed to help people in wheelchairs improve musculature, circulation, digestion and more). And now the box of new clothes my mother-in-law sent me are mostly too big, which is continuing to bolster my confidence. It's well worth the $30 (ok, $29.95 plus shipping and handling) if you're looking to improve not only your body, but your outlook and, hey, even your physical confidence! I haven't tripped over my own feet in weeks. It's a beautiful thing. And it's totally fun, too. But that's for another day. Time to go Rhythmball!

Rhythmball, self confidence, adaptive recreation

Rhythmball Benefit #49

My friend Kris came over for a visit today with her seven-month-old baby, Eli, who has eyes so blue they look purple. I have a soft spot in my heart for Eli because he weighed even more than MY baby did at birth -- my kid was 9 lbs. 4.5 oz, and Eli was 11 lbs. 7.75 ounces. Yowza.

I let Kris settle in before sweeping her baby onto my lap, where I bounced him for a little while until he got restless. I stood up to hand him back to his mommy and he practically floated up to the ceiling.

"Kris," I said, "he's light as a feather!"

"Lynn," she replied, "he's 21 pounds!"

Which makes me wonder how heavy he'd feel if I hadn't spent the last two months Rhythmball-ing and all last week helping Melanie move her shoes and makeup, and also makes me wonder how much my nine-month-old weighs. He goes in for his well-baby check this week. Anyone want to place some bets???

baby weight, baby games, baby please take a nap

Another sweat-inducing activity

Last week I announced that only canning is as sweat-inducing as Rhythmball. I'd like to revise that statement, having spent all of last week helping a Southern woman move. I usually don't rely on such generalizations but having spent hours packing her 1) makeup and 2) shoes, I belive the designation is important. We must have packed eight tall cartons of shoes. Eight! And of course they had to be split into "Fall shoes," "Winter Shoes," and "Shoes" designations. Frankly, last week was all about sweating and designating. I packed her bathroom, pantry, and kitchen, plus made a trip to her storage unit to help load up two enormous trunks -- think "Rope" enormous. All this, and I still managed to get in two Rhythmball sessions. But after being the only person helping a Southern woman move all week, that exercise might have been a bit superfluous. My friend did, however, note that I'm strong. Good combination of Rhythmball and toting around my enormous baby.

And why was I the only person who helped her (save my DH who came on the last day)? Because she's lived in New England since 1998. She was feeling pretty bummed about the fact that none of her peeps came by, but I let her know that when our pastor moved this summer, DH and I were the only ones who helped him pack.

But that's another rant for another day, possibly on another blog.

motormouth, moving, shoes

Becky? Is That You???

Can It!

I have found the one activity more sweat-inducing than Rhythmball: canning. This weekend was all about putting fresh fruits and veggies into jars and processing them in a boiling-water bath. Hadn't done it for two years so I was a bit rusty, but nevertheless productive. Here's the count:

Peach-pineapple jam: nine half-pints, two pints
Mango salsa: six half-pints, four pints
Tomato butter: nine half-pints, 13 pints
Tomatoes: three pints, two quarts
Blueberry jam: six half-pints, one pint

Thanks to Carolyn from my church for the boxes of jars, and DH for watching baby both afternoons. I still have half a box of tomatoes, which I think will be turned into tomato salsa. And then I'll tear out all of my basil plants and make a mess of pesto, which I'll freeze. Yummmmmmmmm....

canning, sweating, compulsion

Huh.

My blog is worth $1,129.08.
How much is your blog worth?

This blog has accrued more "interest" in two months than my other blog did in more than a year. Weird. Too bad I can't cash it all in and get me some liposuction. But that would be cheating, yes?

Speaking of liposuction, perhaps you've already seen one of my favorite Web sites. Or maybe not...

Technorati, Liposuction, Cheating

Month-and-a-Half's Progress

Well, with the heatwave and everything, I'll admit I've not been Rhythmballing as much as I should. So I was a little concerned when I decided to go out and buy some new clothes the other day. I shouldn't have worried. The skirts I tried on in size 20 were all too big! They were supposed to fit around my hips but they just sagged. I tried on some 18s and was able to zip them up -- they fit around my waist, but as that's where I prefer to wear my clothes I was happy about it.

I was bummed when none of the tops fit, but was vindicated when I tried on a bra that was 2 inches AND one cup-size smaller than what I'd been wearing! When I got home, I tried on my pre-pregnancy bra with a size 38 band and it fit!!!! I'm wearing it today and it's sexy as hell.

The great thing about getting active is it's definitely improving my well-being in other ways... I'm drinking fewer alcoholic beverages and eating lots more vegetables. In my pre-Rhythmball days I'd go grocery shopping, dump out the rotten veggies from my refrigerator bin, put fresh ones in the bin, and repeat every week. Nowadays we're eating almost all the vegetables before they have a chance to go bad. I'm especially enjoying snacks of baby carrots dipped in spicy hummus -- low fat, with enough zip to make my taste buds happy.

I've also ordered a new instructional DVD. When I was beta-testing the original, I realized that it was in Chinese format! My TV wouldn't play it, but my multilingual Macintosh does, so I've been watching it on my laptop. But now that I'm trying to work on the more advanced tricks, my laptop screen is a bit too small to really watch what's going on. The CEO of all-things-Rhythmball ordered a slew of North America format instructional DVDs, and I'm looking forward to getting mine and practicing Rhythmball in front of our new flat-screen TV. While wearing my new, smaller bra. :)

HARD NUMBERS:

Pants size June 30, 2006: 22
Pants size August 14, 2006: 20 (but fit into size 18 skirts at Old Navy)
Bra size June 30, 2006: tight 42G
Bra size August 14, 2006: 40 DD / 38 G
Overarching Goal: Fit into my black leather pants by Christmas (God bless us, everyone!)

Fitness, Weight Loss, Bra

Snakes on a Rhythmball Paddle

I cannot WAIT for "Snakes on a Plane." Oh ho, laugh if you will, but in these days of movie plagiarism, this recent offering at least appears 1) new and 2) creative. I am getting very tired of seeing the same movie advertised every decade. From the morphing of "The Cutting Edge" to "Save the Last Dance" to "Step Up," don't the movie studios realize that we aren't spending money to go to the theaters because we've already seen everything they're showing? Like, decades ago?

While I'm ranting, I might as well continue: we saw "Syriana" a couple of nights ago. OK, we saw the first 35 minutes of "Syriana." After the (spoiler) kid died in the swimming pool accident (I blame Al Queda), we turned it off. It was the sloppiest screenwriting I'd ever seen. I could just picture the script meetings:

A: I can't figure out how to tie in the Pakistani guy.
B: That's OK. Just add 10 more characters in 12 different locations. We'll dazzle the audience with our foreign settings.
A: When you say "dazzle," don't you mean "bullsh*t"?
B: You mean there's a difference?
A: But how do I get the audience to care about my characters if I introduce 40 of them in 30 minutes?
B: Kill off Matt Damon's kid. Gets 'em every time.

Frankly, if a movie is going to kill a character who is under the age of 16, there should be a warning label on the box. Because it's really messing with my movie-viewing sensiblity. When DH and I went to see "Me and You and Everyone we Know," I couldn't allow myself to lose myself in the sweetness of it because I was completely convinced that someone was going to get hit by a car. And then, at the end of the movie, nobody did get hit by a car. We watched it again on DVD the other night and I enjoyed it so much more, knowing that nobody was going to meet a tragic end.

Less than a week until "Snakes on a Plane"! To pass the time, I've been leaving Samuel L. Jackson voicemails for people. You can do it, too!

Snakes on a Plane, Unhealthy Obsession, Need to Get Out More

New Proposed Rhythmball Slogan

"Like Tai Chi, but Funner."

Whaddaya think? Comments, please.

Just when I start feeling good...

I'm in a drama club of playwrights and actors here in Mytown, and last night we read one of the participant's new plays. She asked me to read the part of the rabbi. "I didn't work too hard to get outside actors to read," she said, "because a lot of the people in the group fit the roles I'm having read." I felt pretty good about being asked to participate until I sat down and read her Dramatis Personae. "Rabbi Adele: hip, slightly frumpy. 40s." And then I wanted to die. Frumpy??? Forty??????!!!!! The only way I got through it was by channeling Jon Lovitz: ACT-ing! I must be a hell of an actress if I can get people to believe I'm frumpy and 40. Yeah, that's it. Uh huh.

Acting, Frumpy, Despair