Keeping up with the guys... minus 20 pounds

I don't just procrastinate when it comes to working out. The truth is, I HATE working out. And when I say hate, I mean LOATHE, ABHOR, and DETEST working out.


But in light of my aforementioned wedding, I joined a gym, Club H, to tone up and lose weight for the big day. That was my motivation. Now that my wedding is over, I don't have as much motivation for working out - unless of course you count the astronomical amount of money I'm spending on the yearly gym membership in New York City - which rivals that which I spent on my college education.


I've made working out easier on myself by at least doing exercises I enjoy, and skipping the ones I don't. But even then, I do the exercises half-heartedly. I'll do nine-and-a-half reps of an exercise at my own pace instead of 10, and tell myself I'll do exercises on five more machines but only make it around to three more.


It takes a lot to get me to the gym, and even then it takes more to get me to actually take advantage of the fact that I'm at the gym. I need someone to push me. That's why I usually end up going to the gym at a time when I can take one of the classes - pump, yoga, pilates, boot camp, and rebounding are my favorites. That way, I have an instructor telling me that I have 10 reps to go. I can't quit at 8 or 9 for an irrational fear that the others taking the class will notice and judge me.


However, not all instructors are created equal. Now that I've been going to the gym for seven months - and tried out a bunch of different classes - I know which ones to take to appropriately correspond to my mood.


When I'm feeling a 10 on the laziness scale, which is the laziest of all lazy - but not quite lazy enough to stay on the couch - I head to yoga with Johan. Now don't get me wrong - yoga is hard work, but it's totally minus the cardio, which is my arch nemesis of working out. So while I break out into a sweat while doing the complicated poses, some of which require intense concentration, I love the way the class ends. For the last five whole minutes, we practice shavasana, the dead pose, which is simply lying down in complete and total relaxation. Ahhhhh!


When my laziness factor is about an 8, I find myself in pilates with Christina. I need some semblance of liveliness for that class because it's difficult for me to not only concentrate on doing the exercises, but to also remember to hold up my pelvic floor (the muscles you use to hold in your pee, to put it bluntly).


In order for me to do cardio, my laziness scale needs to be less than a 5. On those (rare) days, I might head to Cheetah's pump class (yes, his name is actually Cheetah - so cool!). On the hotness scale of 1 to 10, he's about a 9.6. So while he provides amazing eye candy that I can stare at for 45 to 60 minutes at a time without looking like an obsessed weirdo (I'm studying the correct form is all, I swear!) that means he's too hot to pay attention to someone like me. And by "someone like me," I mean someone who dresses in old sweatpants and a worn T-shirt from high school with my hair twisted up into a ponytail, and not someone who dons daisy dukes with a belly-bearing tank top with my perfect curls pinned up into a perfectly messy updo to work out.


Therefore, in his classes, I might as well be invisible, even though I may be exercising in front of the women who primp BEFORE their workouts. And since I'm invisible, I can slack off a bit because he won't call me out on it.


Though Blake will not call me out, he will motivate me during his rebounding class. For probably 35 out of the 45 minutes of that class, we are all on our own mini trampolines bouncing around for exercise. Now before you think that that would be the most awesome class ever, I must tell you that you are not jumping on it to see how high you can go. It's actually the opposite. You are resisting the bounce, which KILLS your legs, but makes for a great cardio workout. On the energy scale of 1 to 10, Blake is always about a 15, so when he says GO!!!! GO!!! GO!!!!! (meaning, jog on the trampolines as fast as you can for 15 seconds) I am actually motivated to GO!!!


Now when I am feeling the extra few pounds that I'm carrying around my midsection and desperate to try and whittle it down to fit into my fat jeans, I'll make my way to the hour-long boot camp with Miguel. It's what I actually imagine boot camp to be. For the first round in his class, there are 12 stations where you do an exercise for 30 seconds at a time. The second and third rounds are for 45 seconds at a time, which is SOOOO MUCH longer than 30 seconds. It's definitely not OK to slack off in Miguel's class because he will come over and yell at me, "Girl, I know you can jump higher" or "Come on, sweetie, you can do it."


(Normally, I have an issue with random guys calling me "honey" or "sweetie," but Miguel's so hot, he could call me "crap bag" and I wouldn't care less. Plus, it's weird, but I actually want to do good so he'll tell me, "Yeah, that's it!" which is really what I need when working out - encouragement!)

And I got the best encouragement I've ever had today when I walked into Miguel's class and saw that it was made up of me and seven guys. One of them noticed the extra testosterone in the room and asked if I was feeling a challenge. Well, I couldn't let them down, could I?


So I worked out today harder than I have ever worked out in my life. Because there are usually girls in the class, Miguel sets up the stations with weights for the guys, and weights for the girls. But did I use the "girly" weights? Well, yes, but not on ALL of the stations. I had to prove that I could keep up with the guys... minus 20 pounds or so!


And I think I did a pretty good job - which is good because I'm not moving from this couch for about a week!

Cooking just got a whole lot more creative

I love to cook, and Brent loves that I love to cook.

Every Sunday afternoon, I pull down one of my MANY cookbooks and start flipping through the recipes looking for something new to try. I'm totally not a fish person, so I generally start with the meat or chicken sections and narrow it down by what both Brent and I will like.

For the record, Brent loves onions, which are found in many recipes. This is unfortunate because I HATE having to eat them. But I do eat them - the small ones that I can't pick out of my food, because I am a great wife and I make the dishes that call for onions with them instead of leaving them out like I'd prefer.

Throwing another wrench into the mix is that I am willing to try new foods, I generally DO NOT like anything that swims in the sea. (Exception: tuna fish. In a can, not looking at me from a plate.)

Both of these statements were never more proven then on the day a few months ago that I was invited to a friend's parents' home in Queens for lunch. Ignazio and his family are hard-core Italians, so I was expecting something along the lines of an amazing spaghetti dish with homemade sauce. Instead, I sat down to an eight-course (that's right: EIGHT) seafood meal. Though his brother had slaved over the soup he made from scratch, I will admit it wasn't as bad as I thought. The octopus salad was more of a challenge. The company was good, though!

My seafood aversion is important, however, because Brent eats salmon at least once a week. And I'd say he orders it at restaurants when we go out more than half the time. Though I will still not join him in eating the fish that stinks up our entire house for hours after its cooked, I have learned to make it for him. (And the award for wife of the year goes to... ME!)

Another thing I must note is that when Brent finds a dish that he likes, he'll want to eat it all the time for months until he gets so sick of it that he doesn't touch it for months. Lately, he's on a salmon, wheat rice, peppers, and olive oil kick, and wants me to make it for him EVERY WEEK. Don't get me wrong, I love to cook for him, but cooking the same thing over and over and over is just plain booooooooring! Plus, since I don't get to eat it, what's in it for me? So lately, I've been using my cooking as an outlet for my creativity - which is promptly destroyed once Brent starts eating, so I've started to take some photos of my creations.

The first photo is a dish I call "Butterfly Fishes" (And yes, I do know that the plural of "fish" is "fish," but the title is a play on the popular wedding song "Butterfly kisses." For those of you who don't know, I just got married so tons of wedding-related paraphernalia is still locked inside my head.

The second dish is one I call "Fishy Flowers" because that's just what it looks like to me.

Though I'm definitely not this creative when trying out a new dish, it's fun to experiment with something I know I can cook! Though with such simple ingredients, I may soon run out of ideas. That's when I improvise. Stay tuned.

Kayaking on the Hudson River

Right now, my wallet has exactly $2.23 in it. It had $28 more than that about five minutes ago, but I had to pick up a few things at CVS, which is two blocks away from my apartment. And because I live in New York, those few things at CVS - including starch, baked beans, and store-brand aspirin (I know, random, right?) - cost $28.

So I'm always on the lookout for cheap things to do here. I've done pretty good so far with outings at Central Park, random walks in different neighborhoods, and free admission Fridays to MOMA.

But not only was kayaking on the Hudson River today AWESOME, it was also FREE. As in, even after I spent 20 minutes paddling away between two piers, I would have still had $2.23 in my wallet!

I had been bugging Brent to have a picnic for awhile, and he finally took me up on my offer now that I had the day off. Though I envisioned heading to Central Park, he suggested going two blocks in the other direction to the river that separates New York from New Jersey. So we packed a picnic lunch of Whole Foods sandwiches, cherries, Diet Coke, and dog bones, and took Chloe down to a little park by the water.

When we got there, we settled on a bench that was half in the shade (for me and Chloe) and half in the sun (for Brent, who is working on his tan) and watched the colorful kayaks on the water. We were sitting there munching on our lunches for awhile when Brent mentioned that he thought kayaking was free. I, obviously, didn't believe him because last I checked we lived in one of the most expensive cities in the country. And nothing THAT fun could be free, could it?

But the park is right along the bike path that he rides along, and he insisted he remembered seeing a sign for free kayaking. So, obviously, I went to check it out. The next time Brent saw me, I was in a bright red life jacket sitting on a matching kayak waving to him from the water. And when I yelled to Chloe, I could actually see the confusion on her face as she was staring at me from the boardwalk.

Though the entire back half of my jeans were soaked within seconds of sitting in the kayak, I had a blast paddling around the small area between two piers or just sitting on the kayak looking down river enjoying the motion of the waves.

Free AND fun! What could be better?

One month anniversary

Remember the time that you were in high school and you would start "going out" with someone and you would celebrate ridiculous milestones, like your one-month anniversary (mostly because it was unlikely you'd celebrate a two- or three-month anniversary with said person)?


I admit that I was one of those people. And apparently still am.


Though I expect to stay married to Brent well past our two- and three-month anniversaries, I still squealed with excitement when he handed me a dozen amazingly beautiful red roses for our one-month wedding anniversary.

"So what are you planning on getting me for our second-month anniversary?" I joked to him while I had my head buried in the fragrant flowers.


"Hopefully just remembering it," he replied. "And maybe a kiss."

I'll take that!

Ka-Boom!

Holidays are a tough time to be in the city away from my family. I spent this past Christmas in New York, and while I was with my family - Brent and Chloe - it wasn't the same as being with my WHOLE family back in Toledo.

The 4th of July is yet another holiday where I desperately miss home. It's not a big holiday for some families, but it's a HUGE one in mine.

The reason I love it is because it's always in the middle of the summer, and it's always on the combined several acres of my parents' house AND at my aunt and uncle's house. (They live right next door to each other.)


When I'm there, I can hang out in shorts and bare feet surrounded by tons of kids (my dad has 10 brothers and sisters - most of whom are married and have up to six kids each - and some of THEM have kids of their own!) and choose between playing volleyball, horseshoes, or corn hole; swimming; eating, or just hanging out in the shade talking.


The relaxation is punctuated with breaks of watching my family blow up a Christmas tree (seriously, check it out on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjaLmL95umQ) and, of course, an amazing fireworks show put on by my Uncle Chris in his backyard that draws a huge crowd every year.


It's just a nice, relaxing, fun day to spend with the people I love.


The 4th of July in New York is a whole different ball game. On one hand, the fireworks display put on by Macy's over the East River is nothing short of spectacular - at least that's what I hear.


Since this was the first year I've been in New York for the 4th of July, of course I wanted to see the fireworks, and dragged Brent along with me.

So, we met up with Brent's former boss from Toledo, who was in town with his wife and their three college-age kids, in Little Italy for dinner. (Their son, Jake, is the college kid who has stayed with us a few weekends while interviewing for jobs in the city.)

Afterward, we started walking toward the East River thinking that we'd find some place to sit down and enjoy the show. W-R-O-N-G!

At first, we followed a few groups of people who we presumed were also heading toward the river to watch the show. And the closer we got, the more groups we saw. As we turned a corner to go down 20th Street, as instructed by the Web, it was like the floodgates opened. People were pouring down every street leading to the river as the entire New York police force were attempting to corral them away from the streets that were open.

So instead of going down 20th Street, we decided to head down 24th Street. Four blocks away from where we were "supposed" to go for the best view of the fireworks would make a difference, right? W-R-O-N-G!

No matter what street we tried, we couldn't even get within TWO BLOCKS of the East River. There were so many people that we physically couldn't get any closer than standing with thousands of other people in the middle of 24th Street, which police had closed off, in the rain.

The photo I included shows my view of the fireworks - between two buildings, behind a huge tree, a "no parking" sign, a "don't walk" sign, and thousands of people's heads.

I think we heard more fireworks than we actually saw. But what we saw was awesome - fireworks in the shape of boxes, smiley faces, and ones that stayed glowing and suspended in the air.

But by the time it was over, I was soaked to the core, more than 40 blocks away from home, and, judging from the crowd, had about a negative 500 percent chance of making it on a subway train or a taxi anytime soon. Sigh.

Needless to say, being at the New York City fireworks was something I felt like I had to do once. Next year, though, I'll be happier to watch it on TV.

Our amazing honeymoon, part 2

NICE, FRANCE

As I said in my previous blog entry, the second half of our honeymoon was spent in the south of France. After a five-hour ride on the TGV train, we got off in Nice, which was very nice!

Our hotel wasn't as nice as the one in Paris, but it was a five-minute walk to the boardwalk and beach! One thing I will say about European hotels is they are literally smaller than my living room in New York City. They were JUST big enough to hold a queen-size bed, a narrow table, and a tiny bathroom. But since we weren't in the hotel for more than sleeping at night and our afternoon naps, I didn't mind.

Our second full day in Nice was Brent's favorite part of our honeymoon. And no, his favorite part of the trip didn't include anything that had to do with his new wife. He is a guy after all. So his favorite excursion was watching the Ironman Triathlon along the beach ALL DAY on Sunday. And yes, apparently we had to watch the whole thing. He watched, I read a magazine. We're a match made in heaven!

And since the first part of the race was held in the water, I used it as an excuse to lie on the beach. Unfortunately, the "beaches" in Nice are made up of huge, flat rocks. There is no sand, which is good for me because I HATE sand. But the rocks, as you can imagine, were not the most comfortable thing to lie on. Nevertheless, to Brent's utter surprise, I looked totally European on the beach, as in I went completely topless. Which he documented with my camera, of course.

Unfortunately for me, I apparently "did it wrong," according to Brent. What I did was put down my towel, sat on it, took off my top, put on sunscreen, and then relaxed with my magazine.

What I was supposed to do, according to Brent, was act somewhat modest and take off my top while lying on my stomach. Then, after 15 minutes, I was supposed to nonchalantly roll over to get some sun on the girls.

Now how does he know this? Apparently while I was admiring the view of the sea and people-watching along the boardwalk, he was admiring the view of the topless European women on the beach. Sigh.

MONACO AND MONTE CARLO

Our first excursion away from Nice was to go to Monaco and Monte Carlo, which is a 20-minute train ride away. We spent the day there admiring the amazing views of the harbor and the architecture.

Our first stop was going to the palace at the top of a huge rock to see the changing of the guard ceremony, which was extremely precise!

I wandered around the shops afterward while Brent rested after crutching up tons of stairs.

Afterward, I unfortunately, I made the mistake of letting Brent choose where we went to lunch. Let me reiterate that we were in Monaco near France. So, of course, Brent chose to take us to a little place called "Stars and Bars" which boasted traditional American food. Yep, this is the guy I married!

I of course hated that idea, so we compromised by eating paninis in a little park overlooking the water before heading to the bar for a drink.

When we were cooled down, we decided that the Monte Carlo casino didn't look too far away, so we started walking there.

After an excruciatingly hot and painful upward walk, we finally got to the casino and were rewarded with a nice view of several Ferrari's and other fancy sports cars.

After wandering around Monte Carlo for awhile, we decided we had had enough of the sun and headed back to Nice.

One of my personal favorite parts of our trip was when we decided to visit a vineyard. I mean, we were in France, right?

So after some research, Brent and I boarded a bus to head to Chateau Cremat up in the mountains of Nice. Unfortunately, the bus could only get us so far, so we had to hike about a half a mile, which Brent was not too happy about doing on crutches. But he was a trooper.

When we got there, we saw that the chateau was on a hill so high that we literally had a 360-degree view of Nice. It was beautiful! The tour guide took us on a personal tour all around the chateau, and showed us every aspect of the wine-making process, including where the grapes grow, where they go to make the wine, and where the wine is stored for a few years until it is ready to sell.

When our tour was over, we then had a chance to relax and sample all the different types of wines - red, rose, and white. We usually drink red, but I honestly liked the white wine the best. But we still bought one bottle of each along with a second bottle of white wine for my parents for a gift. Brent's parents got chocolate and cookies!

Though it was hard to leave such an amazing place - France, that is! - I definitely didn't mind getting back on a Luftansia airplane - one that came complete with pillows, blankets, free booze, several meals and snacks, and 10 different movies to choose from to pass the time. Though we flew coach, I have never felt more like first class, which was how I felt most of the time during this amazing honeymoon with my amazing new husband!

Our amazing honeymoon, part 1

It was beautiful. It was relaxing. It was amazing. And it was a dream come true.


Our honeymoon in France was exactly what we needed after the wonderful, yet stress-filled months leading up to the wedding of my dreams.


Here are some of the highlights from the first part of our trip:



PARIS, FRANCE



The first four days of our honeymoon were spent in the city of lights: Paris!


Unfortunately, my brand-new husband was still on crutches from surgery, so we had to make sure that whatever we did, there wasn't a whole lot of walking, and if there was, that there was plenty of time for rest breaks.


The other difficult part about visiting another country is the language barrier was extremely difficult at times. Yes, I did study French for four years, but that was in HIGH SCHOOL and some in college. So I was rather rusty. And Brent didn't even know how to say "bonjour."

Though I will give him credit for trying. For example, a Frenchwoman dropped her phone and he said to her, "Oh! You dropped-o your phone-o!" (Yep - Brent studied Spanish in high school.)

So the first day was spent walking down the Champs Elysees toward the Arc de Triomph, which honors those who fought for France. Underneath the beautiful monument is the tomb of the unknown soldier from World War I.


The next day - after we got our bearings a bit - we decided to hop on one of those tourist buses that travel around the city and stop at all the touristy places because those were the places that I wanted to see. Brent was less than enthusiastic about the crowds at those locations, but we both appreciated being able to see the city while traveling from spot to spot.

The first of the two days we rode the bus, we got off at Napoleon's tomb and the Hotel des Invalides, which houses the tombs of military leaders and is home to several museums and a modern hospital.

Afterwards, we hopped back on the bus and took it to the gorgeous Notre Dame Cathedral. Brent waited outside while I went inside and toured this amazing church - while mass was being held - but it was nice and quiet so I could appreciate its beauty both inside and out.


Our third stop was the one I was most excited about because it was something I was greatly anticipating - the Eiffel Tower. Those of you who attended my wedding know that Brent proposed to me at the top of the faux Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas and promised that he'd take me to the real one on our honeymoon.

But after I waited in line for about 45 minutes for tickets, I met a very upset Brent at the entrance.


Apparently, being on crutches was getting painful and the street vendors had hassled him to buy their trinkets one too many times. (You'd think that living in New York would make it so that you were relatively immune to people asking for change, etc., but it does quite the opposite. It ups the annoyance level tenfold. I am lucky if I only get asked for money once on my two-block commute to work.)

So though he was not in the best of moods while we were heading up the tower, I made the most of it, clicking photos of Paris from above, much like I clicked photos of Las Vegas from the faux tower.

A few days later, I was able to see it all lit up and sparkling from a spot near our hotel room, which I only have one word for: magical!

We spent the first part of our last day in Paris at the only museum that I could get Brent to go to: The Louvre.

Though we were only there for a little over two hours, we got to appreciate the sheer beauty of the building itself as well as the Mona Lisa and the Venus de Milo.

There were also a lot of local artists there replicating the famous works of art. Now I'm not a professional artist, but it was nearly impossible for me to tell the difference between the originals and the local artists' creations.

Though Brent wasn't too impressed with Paris, I learned a lot about it during my years of studying the culture, so I was able to truly appreciate its history, and absolutely loved our time there.

Stay tuned to my next posting on the second part of our honeymoon in Nice, France!