Posts from — November 2009

photo by rachelcreative

As much as I loved Thanksgiving—a lot, especially since the dessert table had five pies—it reminded me of a few things I’m not too happy about. And if I can’t whine on this blog, then where can I? Besides, it’s a rainy Monday. That alone deserves a little bit of complaining.

Here’s my gripe: The whole act of getting from Virginia to Massachusetts is humiliating when your knees are lined with chewed-up cartilage. Forget that sitting for an hour and a half on an airplane makes my joints feel like a vice is tightening my insides. The problem is my mode of transportation.

You see, I have to use a wheelchair. No big deal, you say. You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do to heal your knees. That’s what I thought the first time I parked my butt in one. But once you’re in the seat you realize it is a big deal. People look at you differently. Some soften their eyes like they feel bad that someone so young is trapped in a moving chair. Others are accusatory, as if my normal appearance means I’m faking the whole deal in order to skip the line at the Southwest gate. Even if people aren’t thinking I’m a loser, I feel like they are.

Some people tell me not to pay attention to what other people think. It’s easy to say when you’ve never rode a wheelchair. Maybe this is what overweight people feel, as if everyone is noticing their extra pounds and judging them for it. Maybe this is how other people with disabilities—missing limbs, paralysis, or even a limp—feel when they go through the airport. I sympathize with them.

In the end, it makes me feel crummy about my knees, about the fact they’re not fixed yet, and about the prospect of them never being fixed. Since my move, they’ve been sore and easily swollen, and I’m feeling closer to 85 than I am to 27. I fear they’ll never be fixed, that I’ll be wheeling through the airport for the rest of my life.

I’m hoping this feeling will pass, but for now, how do you get over hopelessness? Do you ever feel humiliated because of your body? What’s your solution?

photo by jennifer13

I dragged myself out of bed at the unnatural hour of 3 a.m. Yawn. But it’s for a good cause. The Man and I are flying up to Massachusetts to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. I’m not thankful for early a.m. flights or airport food, but I am thankful for a few other things. I leave you with my Grateful List.

1. The Man. I’m thankful that he’s my nurse, chef, housekeeper, chauffeur, personal shopper, and therapist when my knees are screaming in pain. And he does it all without complaining.
2. My family. Especially during this move, I’m grateful for my family’s help. My mother spent four days packing, cleaning, and painting our old apartment. Then she unpacked the new one. And The Man’s father and brother helped us move so we didn’t have to pay for pros.
3. Bones. The show got me through my first round of PRP. I don’t know how I would have dealt with the pain (Vicodin, perhaps?) if I couldn’t fixate on the would-be romance between the two sleuths.
4. Amazon.com. It’s a shopaholic girl’s best friend when her knees are too weak to hit up brick-and-mortar stores.
5. My new place. No more waking up in the middle of the night to click-clacking above us. Which means I’m also thankful for sweet sleep.
6. Silly Dancing. The last time I started feeling down about my knee pain, I watched this guy dance his way around the world and instantly cheered up.

What are you thankful for? Leave your Grateful List in the comments.

photo by ccyhan

There’s a lot of talk about giving thanks lately, but let’s be honest. For most people, Thanksgiving is about food. (If you think your relatives travel hours just to see you, you’re fooling yourself. Someone’s got to tell you.) Here’s a testament to the fact: People slave away for days prepping side dishes, buying a turkey, and baking pies. Others (ahem, The Man) spend the week leading up to the holiday—and I quote—“stretching the stomach so there’s more room for turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, and pie.” However you look at Thanksgiving, the holiday in some way revolves around the dinner table.

For the health-conscious, the holiday is one big, flashing-in-red-lights temptation. The midget devil on your shoulder’s working overtime: Try the mashed potatoes—you don’t eat them often. What’s turkey without gravy? Sweet potatoes are healthy, especially in casserole form. Take another roll … you don’t have to butter it. Forget salad, you can have that any time you like. Don’t even get me started on dessert.

And the angel on your other shoulder? Yep, she’s got the day off.

You can always cook your own Thanksgiving meal, invite the family to your place, and hope grandpa doesn’t crack any is-this-turkey-or-cardboard jokes. (Just kidding. There are plenty of delicious, healthy turkey day recipes out there. If you’re able to do some of the cooking or bring a few of your own dishes, more power to you.) But if you’re visiting relatives who insist on cooking the meal solo, you’ll have to get creative—and disciplined—with your eating. The average person eats 4,000 calories during a Thanksgiving meal. And, yes, you read that right: double the daily recommended amount of calories for adults in one meal.

Read on for 14 tips on avoiding overeating—and next-day bloat.

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photo by planetchopstick

For the first time in 11 months, I’m not stressed out by sleep. I know, I know—sleep is supposed to ease stress the same way a giant hunk of chocolate cake does. Still, I haven’t felt this relaxed about going to bed since last January. That’s when we rented an apartment beneath a vampire bodybuilder. Or at least that’s what I think lived upstairs from us.

It started the very first night we moved in. I figured the man upstairs was putting in new hardwood floors. Since we hadn’t yet unpacked our clock, we had no idea it was 4 a.m. Ignorance was bliss. Ten months later the marching in formation at midnight wasn’t so easy to brush off. Other activities we stopped finding amusing: throwing the couch from one end of the apartment to the other; training a baby elephant, Barnum & Bailey–style; bench pressing on the floor—without a spotter; and doing step aerobics at 3 a.m. At least that’s what I assume was happening nightly.

Pretty soon, The Man and I would go to bed with anxiety. Would he start jazzercise immediately? Or could we catch a couple hours of sleep before the pounding started? How long would the noise last? It only got worse as the night went on. Our hearts would pound like we were prepping to deliver a big speech. To the United Nations. In German. We’d start counting the hours we had left till morning. Seven! Six! Four! Two!

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photo by mtsofan

It’s finally Friday (is it just me, or did this week go really sloooow?), so I’m finishing up work then spending the weekend tackling the massive box-fest that is my living room. If you’re bored at work you have a few spare minutes before your weekend kicks into full swing, check out some stories from around the Web.

I’ve never been a huge fan of pumpkin pie—why bother when pecan’s on the table, too?—but these chocolate chip pumpkin spice bars sound amazing. Plain and simple.

I love this leg-strengthening move that focuses on balance. Just make sure your knee never goes over your toe line as you squat.

I’m no Top Chef, so these kitchen tricks were super helpful. Here’s one: Keep celery fresh for weeks by wrapping it in Tinfoil before putting it in the fridge.

Researchers say exercise can make you less anxious. In my experience, it also reduces stress and ups body image.

If you envy Gwen Stefani’s abs (and, really, who doesn’t?), check out this in-depth interview with her personal trainer. Then whine a bit because you can’t afford a trainer.

photo by the one true b!x

If you’ve never been to a physical therapist, lucky you. That means you’re in pretty good shape. (Wanna share the good fortune with a friend?) In case you recently walked under a ladder, broke a few mirrors, and opened an umbrella in the house, I’ve written this guide to finding and making the most of physical therapy.

What is physical therapy?
The physical therapy (that’s PT in injured-human speak) specialty focuses on injury rehabilitation. The goal of PT is to improve physical functioning, like walking up a flight of stairs for someone with a meniscus tear, swinging a tennis racket for someone with shoulder tendonitis, or writing with a pen for someone with a hand fracture.

What does a physical therapist do?
Physical therapists are trained in the musculoskeletal system and will diagnose and treat injuries and muscle imbalances. A therapist’s toolbox includes exercise, physical manipulation (nothing crazy here; think moving a limb to improve range of motion), heat, ice, and some wackier devices—more on those later.

Where can you find a physical therapist?
Chances are, if you’re in enough pain to need a physical therapist, you’re in enough pain to visit a doctor. And though most states don’t require you get a doctor’s note before signing up for PT (my second didn’t need a scrip, my last did), it’s a good idea to see your doctor beforehand. Many will have a list of preferred therapists they work with and trust—mine did. Some physical therapists work in doctor’s offices or hospitals, and others work out of private practices or gyms.

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photo by targophoto

Sometimes I like to think of myself as superhuman. I may not be faster than a speeding bullet (or a speeding third grader), but at least I fight evildoers like chronic knee pain and hopelessness daily. I work for healthy, happy living for all. Or at least me.

In my other life—you know, the one I go to from 9 to 5—I’m like a sedentary Clark Kent. I write. I sit at a desk. I type, slouch, and stare at a computer. If you work an office job, you know what that means: I feel more like Quasimodo than Superman. My shoulders are tight, my neck is stiff, and my back is way out of whack.

An hourlong deep-tissue massage usually leaves me de-kinked but, alas, those rubdowns don’t come cheap. (A gift certificate for one would be greatly appreciated as a Christmas gift. Hint. Hint.)

Here’s an alternative: strength training. A recent Danish study found that five simple exercises improved function and lessened pain in women with tightness and tenderness in the muscles that run from the back of the head, down the neck, and into the upper back.

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photo by jek in the box

As you know, I’ve been packing/moving/unpacking for forever a couple weeks. It’s in times like these—you know, when the kitchen is more or less nonexistent—that people fall into one of two cooking camps:

a) Those that persevere despite obstacles, saving a sauté pan, a set of good knives, a cast-iron skillet, a sheet pan, and some mixing bowls for the final box. These are the type of people who’ll whip up home-cooked soup in the microwave between stuffing wires and shoes and sheets into boxes.

b) The ones who eat out. For a week.

You can probably guess which camp I fall into. (Hint: It’s not A.) For the past five days, I’ve eaten nothing but restaurant food, sandwiches, and snacks. I’m starting to feel it. Today marked the first real lunch I’ve had in a while, even though it was a childish peanut butter and honey sandwich with a side of tortilla chips.

My kindergarten-inspired snack got me thinking about no-fuss convenience foods. And by that I don’t mean Slim Jims from 7-Eleven. I’m talking about meals you’ve made a thousand times and can rely on in a pinch—when you’re short on time, when your food supply is low, when you’re feeling particularly health-conscious, or, in my case, when you’re still living out of boxes. Here’s what I turn to…

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photo by T. Scott Carlisle

In the middle of packing, moving, re-painting, and cleaning my apartment, I imagined my Monday post like this:

Hi all, Superhuman Tracey here. Just stopping by to tell you that I worked my butt off this weekend, moved my life to the new apartment, and didn’t feel any knee pain! Off to do some unpacking and furniture arranging.

Things started well enough: Thanks to super-helpful family members, we were able to move the entire apartment in a day, paint three bedrooms back to bland taupe in a weekend, and unpack our whole kitchen. I, of course, didn’t lift a single box—hey, I had strict orders from The Man!

But that doesn’t mean I wasn’t active in other ways. I helped my mom paint our old apartment, which meant I was up and down about 5 gazillion times. Plus, since the elevator was hauling boxes, I climbed and descended three flights of stairs. Add a little unpacking on my feet, slamming my knee into a box—twice—carrying a somewhat heavy bag to the new apartment, and stepping up and off of a chair a dozen times and you’ll see why I’m not as cheery today as I had imagined.

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photo by jill

Happy Friday the 13th, all. I have a big weekend of moving ahead of me, and plenty of leftover packing to do tonight. While I work up a sweat, check out these links from around the Web:

Next time you’re feeling down, try eating some of these mood-boosting foods.

Learn whether it’s absolutely necessary to cool down after a workout–or if you can skip that final step.

My favorite kind of study: Chocolate can tame stress.

Jennifer Garner’s trainer shares four quirky breakfast ideas.

I wish I read this last week when my chest was riled up: seven foods that can halt heartburn.

Have a good weekend!