All posts tagged: Workout

Keep Climbing: How Bouldering is Similar to Recovery

Athletic, I am not. Drunk or sober, it makes no difference — “active” activities have never been an important part of my life. They’ve never been a part of my life period, with the exception of reformer Pilates, which I only recently started seriously practicing on a regular basis. I was into doing at-home yoga for a time, but that was back when I was often quite sauced, so my video-guided workouts consisted of a few cat/cow poses, maybe a couple of downward dogs, followed by a straight-up vodka martini while I sat back on my mat and watched the rest of Rodney Yee’s masterful technique. It was just a couple of months ago that my husband convinced me to try indoor bouldering, courtesy of Groupon’s discounted class and weeklong membership to Brooklyn Boulders. And THEN I remembered that I not only liked it, but I had also made a metaphorical connection to recovery while our instructor was explaining the basics of the bouldering technique. And once I hit that climbing wall myself, I realized just how …

Songs We Worked Out To in the ’80s (If We Worked Out At All)

Aerobic Lady from Buns of Steel (Photo: YouTube) Back in the 1980s, working out wasn’t inextricably linked to music, the way it is today. There weren’t Zumba songs or “Jock Jams.” We didn’t listen to playlists oriented by BPMs. We didn’t have a handy, clippable iPod touch. Yes, we had our Sony Walkmans, but I had nightmares of trying to “jog” with that thing affixed to nylon shorts and watch it crash to the ground. While the ’80s saw the advent of aerobics, and Jane, and Olivia, of course, we did our jumping jacks to whatever music was bouncy. I remember taking a “dance fitness” class in 8th grade and my young teacher playing the Moody Blues “Tuesday Afternoon,” which we thought was the coolest thing ever, if completely inappropriate for Jazzercise. So we conducted a purely unscientific poll of friends, asking people what music they worked out to back then, and found a wide range of tunes — from the obvious to the obscure. We say, whatever moves you. Good For:  Aerobics 1.0  “Can You …

Worst in Class: Attempting the New Workout “Beastanetics”

(Illustration: Kat Borosky/ TueNight.com) I have never been remotely sporty. The only Olympic event I watch with any regularity is figure skating, and the sole game my softball team ever won was the one I missed. When we ran long-distance in high school, one of my stoner friends and I discovered a shortcut that gave us time to smoke half a joint in the woods and still amble out in time to meet the rest of the class as they were winding down their jog. I hesitate to say it because it’s such a cliché, but it’s true; I was always picked last for teams in school. However, this wasn’t particularly scarring for me because I didn’t want to there in the first place. Not surprisingly, as I’ve gotten older and fatter, my athleticism has deteriorated even further. Muscles I never even knew I possessed now hurt and even worse, my joints scream in revolt if I jump or run too vigorously. I take the same supplements they give Labrador Retrievers for bum hips. Yet, …

A History of My Life in Diets

It’s time. Or at least that’s what I’ve said every time, since about 1982. It’s always time and never time to lose weight. There’s always a new artisanal grilled cheese shop waiting for me to experience. Damn you, Brooklyn. But this time it’s different. This time I’m in pain. You mean vanity hasn’t prompted me to try and lose weight? Nope. The fact that I’m a fashion hound and can’t shop anywhere but tasteful and drape-y Eileen Fucking Fisher? Nope. That I do my best to afford a first-class ticket so I don’t have to worry about oozing into my neighbor’s seat? Nope. The fact that my little niece likes to giggle and say to me, “You’re fat!” and then slap my belly with her pint-sized paw. Nope. And funny, that thing called love. My husband and I like to tell each other, “Every day is not a celebration.” Because sometimes, happiness is yet another great excuse not to worry (or care) about losing weight. How did I get here? Years and years, my friend. …

The Truth About Fitness Trackers: How Well Do They Really Work?

Last spring, I participated in my first triathalon. While I was training, whether I was in the pool, running, or on the bike, I began to notice some very fancy-looking fitness trackers that fellow workout fanatics were wearing. And I decided that I, too, wanted to track my progress as I prepared for my first major fitness milestone. But what kind of tracker did I want? A Fitbit? The Nike Fuel Band? A Jawbone UP? I began to ask around to see what people liked and why. I knew that I needed one that worked in the water because I love to swim, but I also didn’t want to spend a fortune. Luckily for me, soon after I started my investigation, I ran into a friend at a party who was wearing a very sleek-looking, modernistic watch. But it wasn’t just a watch! It was the $120 Misfit Shine — an attractive tracker that works in water AND doesn’t look like an aircraft-to-land satellite tracking device. Eureka! I had to have it. A depressing fact …

Just a Moment: When I Met Richard Simmons

(Photo Credit: Christina Chang) It’s my first trip back to NYC after having my first baby. I am meeting a friend on West Broadway, hoping to squeeze in half an hour of shopping to feel, you know, somewhat like the pre-baby version of myself. I pop into a consignment store and find a fun pair of shoes for $34. As I bring my find to the counter, I pull out my wallet and hear, “You. Are. Beautiful.” Sleep deprived, sans make up, stringy hair. This person can’t be talking to me. I turn to see a familiar face, but it takes me half a minute to place him. The hair has thinned, he’s a smaller version of his former, fit, self. But the voice is undeniable. It’s him. And he’s not talking to me. “You are gorgeous,” he says to my friend. She laughs. I can tell she doesn’t register who he is. He turns to me, “You’re pretty, too.” Ah, the consolation… but nice of him, nonetheless. “I need a picture with you two! …

You Spin Me Right Round: The Benefits of Finding a Workout You Love

I approach my workouts as a chore, like doing the laundry. When you hit middle age, not exercising is not an option — at least not if you cringe when see the widow’s humps on little old ladies and swear you won’t let yourself look like that as you age. So you stretch and you sweat and you check the clock on the gym wall, hoping you’re not spending too much of your day on this nonsense. But sometimes you get lucky and find a fitness outlet that you not only enjoy, but actually even look forward to. I discovered Spinning in the ’90s, about the same time that I was diagnosed with rheumatoid arthritis. It was a great fitness alternative to the treadmill when the joints on my hands and feet swelled up and I could barely walk. I got on my stationary bike and followed the instructor up and down imaginary hills, making like Lance Armstrong (before we found out he was doping, of course). Spinning is more of a team sport than …