Category — Healthy Living

photo by moriza

We need to talk.

(No, you’re not in trouble.)

It’s just that I’ve been seeing a trend around these interwebs and I thought, Who better to chit-chat about the trend with than my blog friends? It started with this article. And this one. And then this blog post. And some more that I foolishly let expire from my Google Reader before starring them. Suffice it to say, there’s been some gabbing going on about our plugged-in culture.

To sum up: Our brains need downtime to process information and do basic functions. Like think. The thing is, we’re always jamming information down our brains’ metaphorical throats. (If I could draw an even halfway decent brain, I’d totally illustrate that.)

We don’t just go for a run. We listen to music and watch TV and e-mail and Tweet and send important updates to Facebook like: “So hot outside.”

We don’t just watch TV. We watch TV and blog and read blogs and talk to our spouse with little grunts to let him know we still understand he’s alive and sitting next to us.

I’m going to let you in on a low moment for me. Don’t judge, or I’ll come beat you up. (Not really.) I’ve woken up and checked my e-mail on my phone before I even put on glasses. Yes, I’ve done that. (Shame, shame, shame.)

photo by brandon christopher warren

But researchers quoted in that New York Times article say uploading teensy bits of info to our minds on a near-constant basis never gives us a chance to be still and let all of that information sink in.

Without the downtime, I fear I might start talking in 140-word bites.

THE MAN: Hey, Trace, how was work?
TRACEY: Fine. #isitfridayyet #omgineedsleep

Right, so bad things would happen. Chaos.

So, what’s the solution? Well, one option is to unplug completely and endlessly annoy everyone you know by saying things like, “Sorry, I don’t own a computer. If you need to contact me, you’ll have to stop by.”

That, my friends, is not the answer.

But I don’t think shrugging it off as a byproduct of our fast-paced society is the answer either. Because, don’t you think, one of these days your brain just might put out one of those signs for you? Gone Fishin’.

For now, I’m working on balance. I might overload with micro tasks all day long, but one I’m off work, that’s it. It’s me time. I’ll pick a TV show and watch it without distractions. I’ll read in a silent room. On weekends, I shut the computer. I don’t read other people’s blogs. I don’t write mine. I may even have a conversation with The Man—but that might be pushing it.

That is, until I invent a device that downloads pertinent information straight to my brain. In seconds flat.

Do you unplug? Do you need to? Let’s continue the discussion in the comments.

photo by robayre

Aw, thanks for your well-wishes yesterday. My head’s still somewhere near the summit of Mt. Everest while my body sinks deep in the ocean (at least that’s how it feels to me) but I think whatever cold or sickness I have is fading. A good, good thing because I’m not about to spend my weekend feeling all flighty.

Two things today:

1. My 90-year-old massage therapist says you should try this:

The other day I mentioned how working at a desk all day contorts my muscles into some horrible knots, and you all pretty much agreed that desk work will be the downfall of all humanity. (That is what you agreed to, right?) Anyhow, I thought I’d pass on another tip I learned from a massage therapist I had once.

(Actually, I learned it from a ninetysomething year-old massage therapist who was a teensy little thing that didn’t even reach my shoulders. And yet somehow this frail woman dug in deep and hard and got all my knots out. Go figure.)

After she told me my back was in pathetic shape (yeah, seriously) and that I needed to stop doing so much sitting in front of the computer (yeah right) she suggested I get a back cushion. The idea is to lay on the cushion after a long day and let the pose work your spine into alignment.

The cushion I use (here’s what it looks like) places your head, neck, and back in perfect alignment and it helps aches and pains. Plus, it gives you a good idea of what good posture feels like, thus making it easier to stand up straight when you’re not, you know, splayed out on the floor.

2. Your Media Savvy Tip of the Day: Put your e-mail address on your blog.

Here’s the thing: Sometimes reporters who need to interview real humans stumble across THE MOST PERFECT SUBJECT EVER! and, naturally, do a Google search of their name. And then they might find a blog, which is great because they can study up on the person before an interview. But sometimes there is no contact info on the blog. None.

Do you know what a reporter does then? I mean, after crying and wishing this MOST PERFECT SUBJECT EVER! would have just put a derned e-mail address on her site? That reporter cuts her losses and moves on to someone else.

So if you like the idea of ever being featured in a newspaper or magazine article, a book, or television or radio story, the reporters must have a way to contact you. Here’s where I look first: On the homepage, the About Me page, or under a Contact Me tab.

I came across this today when I found someone who was perfect for an article I’m writing. I spent way too long searching her site for anything—e-mail address, phone number, twitter handle, address to which I might send a carrier pigeon. Nothing.

But if you’re happy never having the possibility of the media not contacting you, that’s fine, too.

Finally, today is the last day to enter my beauty giveaway. The details are all here, but the Cliff Notes version is this: 12 never-been-used beauty products, one winner, three ways to enter today.

Have a great weekend!

photo by JD’na

Aw, you guys were too cute yesterday with all your sisterly and brotherly love. I think yesterday was Official Mushy-Gushy day on here. (Not to be confused with the day I got all mushy-gushy about you.) And now the phrase mushy-gushy has lost all meaning. Darn, I hate when words do that.

So I’m not sure how many of you work in an office—and by that I mean spend eight to 11 hours with butt firmly planted in seat, face planted in front of the computer—but I was thinking today about my posture. Here’s how it went down:

I click my neck to the side, which cracks and stiffens. Then I massage my shoulders. I’m pretty sure there are marbles underneath my skin, woven into my muscle fibers. I work my way to my upper back where the marbles turned into golf balls. I stand up. Feel my lower back pinch. Crack it. And decide one day when I’m 90 and warped like the Hunchback of Notre Dame I’m going to say, “See, I told you office work would screw up your body.”

What I’m saying is sitting for that long can put a major kink in your back. And neck. And shoulders. When I’m a mega zillionaire I’m going to get a deep-tissue massage every day. Hey, if I’m that rich, I’ll buy each of you one every day.

For now, though, I’m going to do the best I can by trying to improve my posture. I have a friend whose perfect posture inspires me to sit up straight like a real lady (you know, the British kind that wears gloves and drinks high tea every day at noon and is, sigh, so on top of everything) but since she can’t be at my side all day long I’ll need to remind myself.

Step one (which I took a year ago): Buying a lumbar support cushion for my desk chair. Instant reminder to straighten up.

Step two (let’s call this “in progress”): Stop slouching at home. Just because they say curl up with a good book does not mean I must actually swirl into a catlike ball. Shoulders back. Chin up. Back straight.

That’s better.

Do you have good posture? How do you deal with long hours in front of a computer—and the havoc it wreaks on your body? (And if you don’t have a desk job … well, lucky you.)

And PS: Mosey on over here to enter my beauty product contest. The fun lasts till Friday. And when I say fun I mean you can win a package of 12 never-been-used beauty products.

photo from Sole

Hey friends, there is still time to enter my Totally Awesome Beauty Giveaway. All the fun (and rules) can be found here. The contest ends Friday, so head over and enter before IT’S ALL OVER!

The dilemma: You’re forced to use custom orthotics or else risk ruining your body mechanics by walking around on flat feet—yet you’d rather not wear closed shoes in 100-degree heat. Do you:

A. Suck it up and throw on a pair of socks and sneakers.

B. Forget the orthotics and slip on flip flops.

C. Duct tape your orthotics to the bottom of your sandals?

I vote for none of the above. Not that there’s technically anything wrong with duct-taped sandals, but it’s just not my thing.

Here’s a brief lesson for anyone who’s never had to wear orthotics (lucky you). They’re shoe inserts that help make up for a too-high arch or flat feet. Because you slip them in your shoes, you’re required to wear a pair that at least have a back and sides. So sandals are out.

For the first two years I wore orthotics I stuck to sneakers, even in summer. Which means that not only was I wearing socks and closed-toe shoes but I also could not wear skirts. (I think the skirt-sneaker look only works with fanny packs and Disney World T-shirts. Unless, of course, you have those cute sneakers which, incidentally, DO NOT FIT CUSTOM ORTHOTICS. Not that I’m bitter.)

Anyhow, then I discovered Sole flip flops, which have arch support and are designed by podiatrists. They’re not the cutest shoes, trust me, but they work well enough. And did I mention they don’t require socks? In summer. No socks. Amazing.

I’m writing about this because I was shopping for my second pair and I thought, Hm, maybe some of my flat-footed readers would be interested in these. And then I thought, Hm, maybe even people who have normal feet would want a pair because they’re really comfortable and so much better for your feet than regular flat flip-flops. (Well, as good for your feet as flip flops can be.)

But don’t think Sole is paying me to say this. Or giving me anything for free. They’re not. Sigh.

Anyhow: Bad feet + Sole flip flops = Happiness.

Anyone ever use Sole? If not, do you wear flip flops or do you heed every single podiatrists’ warning and stay far, far away from those dangerous shoes? (Me neither.)

Remember! You can still enter to win my Totally Awesome Beauty Giveaway. That is, if you like beauty products. Or if you have friends who like them. (Never underestimate the ability to regift.) Interesting in entering? Click here.

Sometimes I see a new health food creation on a blog and I’ll think, That’s genius! Sometimes I’ll sigh, Why didn’t I think of that genius first?!

Example A: Egg whites in oatmeal. That’s genius!

Example B: Almond butter–stuffed dates. Why didn’t I think of that genius first?!

Then sometimes I think: You crazy.

Example C: Kombucha. Ha, yeah right. You crazy.

Talk of the fermented tea is just about everywhere, and as much as I wanted to hear the health benefits all I really heard was this:

Bacteria.

Big giant colony of living bacteria.

Big vat with tea and a giant mushroom of bacteria and yeast.

Mama bacteria patty breeds baby bacteria patty.*

See where I’m going with this?

Drinking it sounded about as appetizing as eating a vat of worms. And in case you don’t know me, I’d rather scoop my eye out with a spoon than eat a vat of worms. (There. That was your daily dose of yuck.)

Anyhow, I really didn’t see the point of drinking tea spiked with bacteria even if it was laced with water from the Fountain of Youth. And then.

You knew that was coming right? And then a family friend said she swore by it. And Averie pinkie promised that I would love it because A. I love tea and B. I love vinegar and this tea tastes vinegary.

Hmm, she had a point. Sometimes I drink tea while eating a salad with vinegar. Kombucha couldn’t be much different than that, right? Besides, I take a probiotic. Isn’t this bacteria just like that? Or the live cultures in my yogurt?

I wasn’t about to just get over my fear, but then I came across this at Whole Foods.

Low and behold, Kombucha exists at the grocery store. So I got it.** (That is, I got it after I checked the bottle to make sure there weren’t any weird floaty mushroom babies in there. All clear.)

I went with the flavored variety so maybe any disgustingness would be masked. At least that’s what I told myself before I took a sip: Oh, Tracey, don’t worry. You won’t taste yeasty bacteria. It’ll taste just like quince.

And you know what? It was good. It tasted like fruity beer. And beer tastes good.

Even The Man liked it. And that’s saying something.

I don’t think I’ll be making my own any time soon—the mushroom still freaks me the heck out—but it’s good to know the bottled version is refreshing and (dare I say it?) tasty.

*No, I did not steal that from a National Enquirer headline. Swear.

**How’s that for carpeing the diem?

Have you tried Kombucha? Thoughts? Do you believe the hype? And now that Kombucha is more or less MIA at the grocery store, how do you get yours?

If you’ve been living under a rock, you may not have heard about Caitlin’s Operation Beautiful campaign and book. (And, um, welcome back. May your new digs be much warmer, softer, and more welcoming than your previous abode.)

Here’s the deal: People write meaningful things like “You’re beautiful no matter what” or “Hey, hot stuff” or whatever on Post-it notes. Then they go stick them all over the place for girls to see and smile about. And, no , I’m not talking about an Operation Beautiful note on the inside of a toilet stall (for a good time, call … www.operationbeautiful.com?) but more like a Post-it on the mirror. Sometimes they deface public property with uplifting sayings, which is OK because usually it’s already been defaced, and the words those people scribble on aren’t always so nice.

Anyhow, when Miz talked about the book the other day she mentioned that she likes to leave behind words she’d hope to hear. She asked what random note of kindness we’d like to see. And that got me thinking. One day I hope to randomly see a Post-it that says, “You rock—no matter what.”

Here’s why.

Let’s say you have terrible knees that hate you with every ounce of cartilage in them. Pretend you can’t do much at the gym because said knees will make you pay for it later on. It’s all pain all the time, which isn’t as fun as it sounds. Anyhow, since you were once majorly active you start feeling like crap, what with the severe lack of exercise and all.

You know how exercise can make you feel better about yourself? Yeah, well it works the other way, too, friends. Lack of exercise and movement in general can make you feel like a waste of space whose only purpose in life is to create a solid couch cushion dent.

But then one day you walk into a public bathroom at Panera or somewhere and you see a pink Post-it that says, “You rock—not matter what.” And then you start thinking, maybe you do rock. Maybe you rock more than you’ve been giving your stupid, weak, noncompliant body credit for and—goshdernit—a pair of faulty knees aren’t going to stop you.

That’s why I love the whole Operation Beautiful idea. It’s not even just about weight. Because we all have something we feel like absolute crap about. And once in a while it’s nice to hear from a stranger that you’re not a freak; you’re beautiful just the way you are.

What makes you beautiful no matter what?

Also: I get how strange it must seem to remind you that you can still enter my Totally Awesome Beauty Product Giveaway while talking about Operation Beautiful, but you know what? I think it’s OK to love beauty products while at the same time appreciating yourself for who you are. There, I said it.

photo by natashalatrasha

You guys are spot-on when it comes to unlikeable actors and actresses. I’m not responding to comments on yesterday’s post because doing that would mess up the count and all, and I’d hate to run a contest where I’m the one who royally screws up the entries. So I’m keeping mum. But I will say Matthew “No Shirt” McCaunahey and Jessica “I’m Too Sexy” Biel are at the top of my Hate List. (Which The Man hates, by the way, because Jessica Biel happens to be in man movies like Stealth and Blade and A Team. I refuse to see a movie with her—yup, I dislike her that much—so The Man’s forced to find another movie buddy to catch those totallyawesomeamazing movies.)

Continuing this ramble (I swear, I so didn’t intent for my bashing to go on this long) I agree with Jessica and Ameena, who threw Will Ferrell under the Craptastic Actor bus. I assumed I was the only one who didn’t find him funny. But, thank goodness, I’m in good company. I can’t force myself to sit through another movie where he pretends to be an idiot, gets naked, and yells incoherently. The end.

Not really. Just the end of my rant.

So the other day I was talking to my mother about acupuncture because her brain is nearly exploding and there isn’t enough Excedrin in the world to treat it. In other words: She gets constant headaches and the drugs just don’t cut it anymore. I’m in the process of convincing her to try acupuncture since there’s good research that says it works like a charm. (Well, really the research says something more like “acupuncture leads to persisting, clinically relevant benefits for primary care patients with chronic headache, particularly migraine.” But c’mon, you know my summary is just as good.)

Anyhow, our conversation got me thinking about acupuncture in general. Here’s something I bet you don’t know about me: I tried acupuncture on my knees a couple years ago.

I was in the midst of having a midlife crisis of sorts—my knees were kaput and The Man was carrying me around the house like a mule. Not cool. So I scheduled an appointment with an acupuncturist who was a former NIH doctor and begged her to heal my knees. ASAP, if possible.

I had two sessions and I’ll tell you what:

1. It doesn’t hurt. I’m not sure why I thought those hair-fine needles would somehow make me flinch with pain, but they didn’t. (And now that I get a 4-inch needle full of blood platelets jammed into my knee for PRP I laugh at Old Tracey and her stupidity.)
2. It’s relaxing. My acupuncturist’s office was part doctor’s lair, part spa. Minus the cucumber-flavored water, deep tissue massage, and $200 bill. There was a bed and dark room with soft music, and after the doctor was done jabbing me with needles she let me snooze for a half hour.

I’ll be honest: It didn’t work for me. I know, this is a shocking ending to what you must have assumed would be a glowing review. (I’m tricksy like that.) I so wanted it to work. I gave it two tries. But the fact is, the needles made my Baker’s cysts on the back of my legs ache. And I already had plenty of pain thank you very much. So I stopped going.

The thing is, I still think acupuncture has its place, if not on my legs. I still think it can work, and I think it’s a smarter move than, say, chugging a bottle of Excedrin daily. So I’ll let you know when my mom goes—and whether she’s cured of her daily mind-exploding headaches.

And also: My Totally Awesome Beauty Package Contest is still going on, so head here and enter if you want to will 11 different beauty products. Weee!

Have you ever gotten acupuncture? Would you?

photo by kenziemc
How gorgeous is this shot? Love it. Wish I had taken it.

Holy moley. It’s basically August and I have yet to sit out in the sun or see an ocean or wear shorts. It’s a cryin’ shame.

Remember those days in school where you had to write about what you did on summer vacation? Yeah, me neither. I think that happens only in the movies or in Pizza Hut commercials. But anyway, my point is that if I ever got stuck in a Pizza Hut commercial and had to tell about this summer it’d be a snoozefest. It would go something like this:

I worked and then one weekend I went and got an eye exam and then we went to the office and it was neat. But then we went again and it was boring because we kept going all the time and I didn’t want to because it was so nice out. That’s why I wanted to go to the beach but we couldn’t. Then one time we went to The Man’s sister’s house because it was Fourth of July and there wasn’t fireworks but we didn’t care too much. Only we wish there were. This summer I got two nieces which were OK I guess but kinda boring because all they do is sleep and I wanted to play but their moms said no. Dumb. And then I went back to work and that’s all I do but I have to or else I don’t get allowance.

Yes, it’d be written like that because I’d be 7 and that’s how 7-year-old’s write.

Anyhow, take it from grown-up me, this summer has been kind of lame-o. Minus a couple trips, it’s basically been winter minus the snow. Sigh.

What’s a girl to do? Why, cram it all into one month, of course. Which is why I deem August the Great Month of Excitement And That Sorta Thing. I’m visiting my new niece this weekend, have next week off, dinner with a friend during the week—yes during the week, which is a big deal for this old lady—out-of-town friends visiting over the weekend, and a wedding the following Saturday. Jam-packed, and that’s only the first two weeks.

What ever will I do with the rest of the month? I have an idea.

photo by planetchopstick

Eh, I’m kidding. Sorta. I do love my sleep.

This may also be on the to-do list seeing as all of this peanut butter and jelly consumption has given me a big craving for veggies:

photo by fotoosvanrobin

And finally, August will continue my five weeks of giving you all free stuff. (Cue chorus of elated fans.)

On Monday, I’ll announce the winner of the first Totally Awesome Beauty Package Contest. Today’s your last chance to enter (here), so use it or lose it.

Also on Monday: I’ll reveal the next Totally Awesome Beauty Package Contest. The fun just won’t end.

And now a question for you: If you had plenty of disposable income and a month to spend it, where would you go on your summer vacation? What would you do? (To force you to get creative, here’s a rule: You can’t save the money or use it for practical things like groceries, a house, or car payments. That’s a bore.)

photo by johnburke

Quiz time.

What’s worse than eating peanut butter and jelly for lunch?

Anyone? Anyone?

OK, I’ll tell you. Eating peanut butter and jelly for lunch for the past week straight. I know you’re all on the nut butter bandwagon, and I’m not dising on peanut butter in general. Still, eating it for a week straight is enough to make me hate the stuff from now until eternity. You’d think swapping jelly for honey would make a difference. But it doesn’t. The downside to going three weeks without grocery shopping. Is there an upside to that? I don’t think so.

So I just read a study that said having solid relationships is associated with living longer. The study says that people with strong relationships live an average of 3.7 years longer than those with weaker relationships. I know this study is talking about relationships with people you’ve, you know, actually met. And that’s why I’m thankful for my friends—the ones I could pick out of a lineup.

I guess I owe all of you a big fat Thank You, too. Because I think blog relationships totally count. One of the researchers even said: “[Friends and family] help support good health habits: They remind us to put that seat belt on and ask us about that pain we’ve had, have we had that checked out? That may be the biggest factor.”

Sound like anyone in particular? Like, maybe the entire health blog community? Yes, yes it does.

So, friends, every time you leave a comment here I gain another hour of life. It’s like It’s a Wonderful Life: Every time a bell rings an angel gets its wings. Or something like that.

It’s really sweet of you because, as you know, my cranky knees make me about 85 years old and at this rate I’m going to be a centenarian before I hit my real age of 45.

I’m going to get a bit mushy here. Consider that a warning if you have a heart of stone and need to skip this part.

I didn’t consider the community when I started blogging. I considered the fact that there were probably other people out there with knee pain who might want to know my story. (Because everyone obsesses about their injury like I do and wants to know every single detail of everyone else’s injury too. Right?)

Well, imagine how shocked and awed I was to find out that there were real live people on the other end of this Internet thing, and these real live people happened to be really cool and fun and supportive and a lot of other gushy words. In short, you’re great.

Hey, Tin Man, come on back. I’m over the whole mushy part.

I’ll end with something a little more manly to balance things out. Grunt, grunt. You guys are, um, you know, kinda cool.

Oh, by the way, if you haven’t heard, I’m spreading the love. I’m giving away 16 beauty items on Monday. Friday is your last day to enter, so head to this post to join in the fun.

What do you get out of the blogging community?

photo by cristal filgueiras bittencourt

You know those people who get so sucked into a TV show that they stay up really late watching it and then feel exhausted the next day and are super grumpy? Losers.

I’m so glad I didn’t get hooked on Veronica Mars, which happens to be on Netflix’s Watch Instantly list, which also happens to be free for Netflix members. So glad that’s not me.

Because that would be embarrassing. I mean, that show was cancelled in 2006.

(I know this because, incidentally, I used to love the show and thought it was one of the most well-written teen shows at the time and cried My So Called Life kind of tears when it was ended.)

But, yeah, they’d be total losers.

They’d be especially pathetic if they were looking forward to the weekend solely because they wanted to finish season two. As if there’s nothing else going on that weekend! I bet they make excuses for their laziness by doing laundry during the show so they can pretend they did something meaningful on their days off.

I bet people like that stayed up to all hours of the night watching series like 24 or Prison Break. I bet they look like zombies by morning, dark circles ringing their eyes. Serves them right.

Yup, I’m glad that’s not me.

What are you so not doing this weekend? Wink, wink.