Monday, October 6, 2008

Step Away From the Nutella

One of my goals before I arrived was to get back in shape. The three months living in temporary housing prior to our departure meant living with the bare necessities, lots of dining out and a few extra pounds that found their way into my saddlebags not my check-in bags.

I was doing okay. Alternating yoga with walking around the lake by our place. Lots of salads and whole grains. And then IT happened. Our home was invaded by a jar of Nutella. Bought with the good intentions of treating a guest to her favorite breakfast spread, the sweet hazelnut concoction quickly became a bad nightmare. Now, I've never been one to harbor a chocolate addiction and I've had Nutella on several past occasions without incurring disastrous results but there was something different about this jar. This jar talked!

Every single time I went into the kitchen it would start in on me. "Alexia, why are you ignoring me? I miss you. I won't hurt you - I promise. If you skip the bread it's really not that many calories. Just one spoonful. A small spoonful. Pleeeeez?" I was defenseless against this thing. I've had a spoon dangling out of my mouth ever since.

Anyway, you know how when you make fun of someone mercilessly it always comes back to bite you in the butt? Well, my friend KMOH is an incredibly talented creative person, a small business entrepreneur and, despite the fact that she favors wearing house slippers to NY photo shoots during blizzard weather, I have a great deal of respect for her. Until the day she pulled out the pedometer.

Looking to get rid of a few extra pounds, she'd committed to walking 10,000 steps everyday. All well and good. But when every trip to the bathroom was followed with a step count "28 there and 30 back. I think the extra two steps were to the sink," it wasn't long before we were mocking her endlessly. "I need to get a refill on my coffee. If I take two giant steps and three baby steps does that count as 7 regular steps?" Or, "If I sprain my ankle and I'm on crutches, do I get to count three steps for every one?" You get the idea.

Well, guess who bought a pedometer? Yup. But in fairness to me, the last time I saw KMOH she looked awesome so I figured maybe there was something to it. Sign me up for the 10,000 step program. And may God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change - especially if it's my waistline. I finally sat down to program the pedometer and all was going well. You have to put in your height, weight, age, etc. All standard, no surprises. Then I got to the body fat analyzer. You have to hold your thumbs at contact points on the pedometer and then it assigns an icon to your profile.

There are five icons ranging from a stick figure up to a big round blob. I'm thinking I'm going to hit icon 3 which is metz a metz. Ummm no. Up pops the little fatso icon. I'm thinking are you kidding me? It's not that bad. Is it?? Curses on Nutella and all gooey sugar substances everywhere. Oh, and while I'm at it, those warm Bavarian pretzels too.

I quickly scan the directions again. It says to get better results I should lick my thumb pads before making contact with the analyzer. I stick both thumbs in my mouth entirely and quickly go to the loo because it never hurts to get rid of a little water weight. Back from the bathroom (12 steps in case you were wondering) and now with fully wet hands, I throw back my shoulders, hold my breath and try again. No luck. I am icon five. I am Beachball Pinhead.


Beachball Pinhead at Lake - note Oktoberfest Beer


I am so depressed. The only thing that can possibly make me feel better is... Wait did you hear that? There it is again. Louder this time. Can you not hear that??

As soon as I get the spoon out of my mouth, I'll go for a lap around the lake. Okay, okay four laps. That's 9,865 steps in case you were wondering.








4 comments:

Roper said...

You just want to check out the naked people around the lake.

Unknown said...

Aaah, hello. KMOH here. So. Sporting the pedometer? Slippers during an 8 hour day on your feet is acceptable in most cultures - encouraged in fact.

I miss you so much and am kicking myself with slipper feet for not hanging with you more.

You'll be back. And when you do. We will swim in a bucket of Nutella - another thing you share with me. I think three best inventions in the world are....fire, the wheel, and Nutella!

Traci Joy said...

Girlie, I'm just understanding what it means to walk and ride the bus. Geesh, clearly I've been spoiled with only walking form car to door and door to car. This whole walking from a bus stop to destination is a "whole new world!" I feel like Jasmine in the movie Aladdin, but with leg pains for actually using them for what they were meant.

In an environment where kegs are completely acceptable and expected...my first trip to the gym yesterday to take off the additional inches, made it quite difficult to roll out of the bed this manana!

MISS YA MUCH!!!!

Unknown said...

Hey, You Nut:

My wife discovered Nutella while in Paris as she gulped down a crepe across from the Eiffel tower.

For our trip home, we stuffed two giant jars into our suitcases just in case we couldn't get it back home.

One week after we arrived, the first jar was empty. Needless to say, my wife and her spoon wiped it clean. The second jar is currently on life support. But my wife has nothing to fear, just two blocks from us is an Italian specialty shop with Nutella temporarily implanted on the shelves.

Oh, most importantly, you're not fat! Not even close, but enjoy the walks anyway.

Much love and kisses,

Bill