I have a problem...

I have a serious problem. Some might call it an eating disorder, I call it a workout disorder.

I cannot workout without thinking about how I am going to reward myself with food, after my workout. Usually it is just a 100 calorie pack of cookies from Trader Joe's. Sometimes it goes as far as deciding to get ice cream that evening, then the rest of my run is taken up by weighting the benefits and differences of mint chip vs cookie dough ice cream.

But today, I hit a new low. I was starting my 30 minute walk when I went by my favorite sushi restaurant. I walked in and picked up a takeout menu. I read the menu throughout my entire 30 minute walk. All the way from Armitage and Halsted to Halsted and North (and back) I pondered what sounded better, crab rangoon or shrimp and tofu egg rolls. Do I prefer tuna/avocado maki or namassake maki?

I highly recommend ShineMordia. I will work on my disorder...but what is wrong with rewarding yourself, everyday, after you complete a routine task?

A tale of my two cities...part one

No, I will not start with the Dover Mail.

Cincinnati and Chicago both have special places in my heart, and both bother me to no end. The next few posts will explore my love/hate relationship with each of my two cities.

Cincinnati is where I started. In many ways, the best thing about Cincinnati are all of it's nicknames: The Queen City, The Queen of the West, The Blue Chip City, The City of Seven Hills, and my personal favorite - Porkopolis.

These names bring a sense of charm which, frankly, Cincinnati does not always show. At a recent work event the CVB of Cincinnati was an exhibitor. While other cities showcased their city's stellar cuisine, Cincinnati had a full court of Cornhole.

Why not have a head to head competition of LaRosa's vs Chicago style pizza? Why not bring a girl some Skyline? Why the HECK didn't they bring me some ever lovin' Greaters! (feel free to order me some by clicking on the image to the left).

But that is not to say Cincinnati is all bad. I happen to enjoy Newport on the Levee very much - but actually, that is in Kentucky. Goetta Fest has it's quirky fun aspects - but actually that is in Kentucky too. Hmmmm.

Mark Twain said:

"When the end of the world comes, I want to be in Cincinnati because it's always twenty years behind the times."

There is: Art Museum, riverfront, Mount Adams, Mount Airy, Skyline, LaRosa's, Greaters, Buskins, Playhouse, the old Riverfront Stadium...and my family. My family has been and will remain to be in Cincinnati forever. From First Avenue to Lombardy Street to Pontius to Sarah's Oak Drive my family will be in Cincinnati and that will make me put up with Cornhole, and Kroger's' and the riducious flight to CVG. It is my hometown, my first city.

Look for part two on Chicago in the coming days...

My first 5K

I will be running my first 5K this September 15th. It is for the Chicago AIDS Run/Walk. I paid the extra 5 bucks to get the chip to time my run, but honestly, I am a little scared I am not going to make it. Okay, that isn't quite true. I am afraid I am not going to make it on my terms.

6 months ago I would not have considered myself competitive. But watching other runners pass me on the trail, well, pisses me off. I guess that is good motivation, but is that the kind of person I want to be? The kind of person that constantly compares herself to everyone around her?

By the end of this week, I will have my first 20 minute run in. If I survive that, I think I will make it - but i doubt I will be setting any records.

Check out my AIDS Run/Walk website. And feel free to sponsor me if you are able.

Why do people think it is okay?

Why do people think it is okay to put their baby in a "My mom is a fox" onesie?

Why do people think it is okay to eat ice cream out of the pint container while walking down the lake front running path?

Why do people think it is okay to wear spandex?

Why do people think it is okay to do these things? Is it okay if I tell them that it's not? I have seen all of these things recently. It was painful, but I survived. If you see any of the above, please help me help them and tell them that is is not okay.

Ring, ring, ring

My social responsibility phone has been ringing a lot lately. Who knew I was so popular?

Today I went to see Michael Moore’s Sicko and now I am watching Live Earth. A pretty uplifting Saturday, hun.

I begin with Sicko.

It is hard to watch people in pain. And unless the leaders in Washington begin to hear to US people speak (and we have to speak) nothing will be done. I have never wanted to live anywhere other than the United States so much before.

I highly suggest everyone go see the movie. If you see one Michael Moore film in your live, this will be the easiest to get through. Yes, it starts with someone stitching up his own laceration (thank you Grey’s Anatomy for teaching me that word). But once you get past that there is much less gore.

And now for a lot of Gore, Al that is. By chance I watched An Inconvenient Truth the other week. The documentary left me enraged, depressed, and at a loss of what to do. (And that was just because of the election jokes). But seriously now. I felt like that this problem has snowballed into an inescapable future. And the fact that our government leaders are not interested in addressing ways to make a larger change.

But now I am watching Live Earth. I am being treated to performances from artists I am too cheap to buy a ticket to attend one of their regular concerts (Madonna because I can’t afford it and Phil Collins because it isn’t worth the money). In addition, I am given simple things that I can do to reduce my carbon emissions. In some ways I am kicking the rest of the world’s butt: Whoopie is telling me to take public transportation once a week instead of drive. I wish I could do that! The only time I don’t take public transportation is when I catch the heel toe express.

Reuse plastic bags
Change your light bulbs to the small florescent ones
Unplug charges when the are not charging

Oh yeah – recycle, stupid!

Just do it. I am going to try. Sign the 7 Point Pledge – and keep it.

http://liveearthpledge.org/msn.php - live earth 7 Point Pledge

Butt what?

“You can get a good look at a t-bone steak by sticking your head up a bulls butt, but I would rather take the butcher’s word for it.” Tommy Boy

I have seen a lot of butt in my life. Usually it is more bad than good. After my morning train ride (see Homeless butt) I felt this was a fitting tribute to all of the butt in my life.

Good butt

Butt steak – Butt steak is something my friend F and I discovered at the Three Farthings bar. Picture it: Chicago, 10pm on a Friday night. F and I just left an okay display of the Chicago theater scene. All we wanted was a light bite to eat and a glass of wine in an environment that would be conducive to conversation. We ended up at the restaurant portion of the Three Farthings. F, who is admittedly NOT a foodie asks me, a semi-foodie, (but not Semi-Homemade!) “What is Butt steak?” Three tequila shots and ½ a butt steak later, F and I were very pleased with our new discovery. The only thing I know about butt steak is that it is damn good.

*clarification* F and I split the steak, but I did the 3 shots.

Sir Mix-a-lot butt – Though you wouldn’t know if by looking at us, my sister and I can recite every word of Sir Mix-a-lot’s Baby Got Back (aka Big Butts). It is true. I am not sure how it happened, but it did. “Oh My God, Beck. Look at her butt. It is so big…” just tempt me – I will do the whole thing…

Bad butt

Old lady butt –The most dreaded aspect of working out at a YMCA, or my gym, is the possibility of locker-room old lady butt. This is when you are silently and discreetly changing into your workout clothes and out comes naked old lady, fresh from her post-workout shower. She has no shame and has, apparently, earned her right to be naked in a public locker-room. Of course her locker is next to yours so you get a full view of her old lady butt as she searches the bottom of her locker for her unmentionables.

Homeless butt – After writing the piece about the CTA only a short day ago, my senses were rudely awaken this morning as I stepped onto the train. Before 7am, I was confronted with homeless butt. A man had sprawled out over four seats. He was sleeping on his stomach and his pants had come down to expose full on butt. Once I had identified exactly what I was looking at. I made my way in the opposite direction and found myself a seat. It is just another day in the big city, right?

My only words of advice would be to be careful out there – “Excuses are like butts; everybody has one and they all stink!”

Train, train, go away.

I love the CTA! Really, I do.

I love stepping into the dirtiest, smallest train station; paying just more than I would at Starbucks for my usual (venti, with room, earl grey, one bag, no honey), trek up the stairs and miss the train by seconds; then stand around in the beating sun (though it is only 7:20am) and squeeze myself on the next, already packed, train. I love it! Really, I do.

I have always thought there was something romantic about trains. I think initially the cross-country, turn of the century (20th, not 21st), Hogwarts-esq trains are what caught my eye, but those trains don't go to the loop. Everyday I imagine giving my case to the porter, when really my bag is laying on the grimy CTA floor. I fool myself into hearing “Cattle have strayed onto the tracks and now some farmhands are trying to shuffle them off. " When actually it is the, “The train has stopped momentarly, waiting for signal clearance ahead," recording.

On the train I can read my book, or sleep, or daydream, or talk obnoxiously on my cell phone; but so can everyone else - that is the beauty of public transportation. The CTA is a communal experience. You may not know your neighbor, you only weakly smile at them going to the laundry room; but you are instant friends the when the brown line takes the curve over North Ave a bit fast. When the two of you step into the train car and the bouquet of odors enters both byour noses, you are two peas in the same stinky pod.

You do not have the opportunity to create these relationships sitting at a stop light. When driving, you isolate yourself from the experience of society functioning as a unit. And though there are days when I crave to jump in a car, peel out onto a boulevard and do a quick three point turn, they are few and far between. I will always plead for the train to come again another day.

AK