Haul you need is love
I was raised in a family that celebrated every holiday it could. I suspect that comes, in part, from the fact that Momma Buns is the queen of many things, including finding the perfect paper goods for any occasion — on sale — at Party City. As my sister and I grew up, she put that talent to the test as often as possible. I remember waking up to find that Momma Buns had decorated the kitchen with red foil hearts and made pancakes (a rare treat on a school morning). Other years, I remember her sitting with me while I scrawled my classmates’ names on Snoopy Valentine’s cards, or my whole family passing gifts wrapped in pink tissue paper around the dinner table. (As I grew older, mine was usually a romantic comedy or super-weeper newly out on video. Untamed Heart, anyone?)
So even though I know that many people think Valentine’s Day is manufactured, romantic silliness, for me, it brings to mind really great celebrations of the deep affection my family and I have for each other. So I love it. And I love you guys. In the spirit of that love-fest— even though the actual holiday was yesterday — I’m going to unabashedly share some fitness-related stuff (plus a few randoms) that makes my heart sing. Cool?
“Golden Years” by David Bowie
I first heard it in the movie A Knight’s Tale, which makes me uncool. But my adoration of choreographed dance scenes already makes me uncool, so whatever. Now, the song is on my running playlist—and it’s very useful as a workday afternoon mood-booster, too.
Love Your Muscles with Crunch
Savasana
Toward the end of every yoga class, the instructor asks everyone to lay on their backs, heels together, toes flopped apart, arms by their sides, palms open. Sometimes our eyes are open; often, they’re closed. We lay in this position, known as savasana (suh-VAH-snah) or “corpse pose”, and relax everything. Sounds like sleeping, you say. It’s seriously close, but so much better. Often, the poses right before savasana are challenging, and laying down and focusing only on breathing and relaxing seems like a reward. In Bikram yoga, sometimes the only thing that gets me through a rough class is the thought of how sweet the savasana will be at the end. I lay on my mat and think about how the ground is supporting me, holding me up, and how I don’t have to do anything except find little snarls of tension in my body and then let them go. Even if you’re not into yoga, try giving yourself a few minutes of motionless chill-out time after a tough workout sometime. It’s pretty awesome.
Puma’s Dizzy Barrel Bag
When my old gym bag bit it, I tried to make do with tote bags and backpacks and the like. No good. I resisted buying a new one because I didn’t want something huge and clunky, but I needed something big enough to fit a change of clothes, my sneakers, and toys like my interval timer, my iPod, a magazine, my weight gloves, etc. Behold, Puma’s Dizzy Barrel Bag. It’s pretty great, kind of stylish, and (right now) on sale! Gym bag woes, cured.
So cute, right?
I’d love to hear what gets your heart pumping, too. Gadgets and gear? Workouts? Instructors? Personal accomplishments? Something completely unrelated to fitness but awesome nonetheless? Tell us about it in the comments section.
Hauling for Survival
Team Haul Buns. It’s kind of a thing now. If you need proof, here’s exhibit A, taken at yesterday’s Cycle for Survival event at Equinox on Fifth Avenue in New York.
Team Haul Buns, sweaty and victorious!
The fundraiser, started five years ago by Jennifer Goodman Linn and her husband, Dave, is a whole bunch of back-to-back Spinning classes. Teams of riders raise money that goes directly — 100 percent, every penny — to Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center to research and treat rare cancers. The Linns had a good reason to start the annual event: Jennifer was diagnosed with sarcoma at age 33. She died in July, and this year’s event was a beautiful continuation of the mission she started.
It fills me with so much pride to say that the eight members of Team Haul Buns raised more than $3,000 this year and SERIOUSLY represented yesterday.
Steph and Rose rode hard in the first hour.
When we weren’t riding, we were cheering. We were dancing. We were taking pictures and being silly and kind of just loving the incredibly energy in the room.
Erika, Tammy, Steph and Dee pump everyone up.
I loved that our team was a mix of experienced Spinners and newbies — we even had a baby on board when Erika (who’s expecting her second daughter this spring) rode.
This is George's "I love Spin bike seats" face.
We sported team tee shirts and created a poster for people we love who’ve fought cancer.
By the time it was over, we were already making plans for next year’s event. Yeah, we’re totally doing this again. Thanks to Cycle for Survival and Equinox for such an awesome event. And SO MUCH thanks to everyone who supported our team. If you’d still like to give to this very worthy cause, you can do so here. Thanks!
Ju and I rode cleanup.
Belle of the ball
I like to think that I have good ideas. It’s just that sometimes, I have them far too late. Like just before our wedding, when I decided that instead of a traditional guest book, I wanted to scan photos and mementos from my 11-year relationship with Mr. Haul Buns, artfully arrange them in a custom photo book, and have it printed in a week’s time. (P.S. — That didn’t happen.) Or when I came up with the plan, a week before the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon, to run the race dressed as Belle from Beauty and the Beast.
Not so hard, you’re probably thinking. After all, it IS October, Halloween is just around the corner, and with the Interwebs these days, getting a costume at any time of the year isn’t that much of a chore. True, but I didn’t want to be any old tale-as-old-as-time-Belle-in-the-yellow-gown. I’ve done Disney races before, and there are always about a million Snow Whites, Tinkerbells, and yellow Belles. I wanted to be different. I wanted to be Belle as you first see her on screen, skipping around her small, provincial town in a white-and-blue frock.
Go ahead, sing along. You know you want to.
Before I go any further, let’s address a couple of things:
I’m not a huge fan of running in costume, unless I am in Disney World. Then, all bets are off. I’m also not a huge fan of gnawing on giant turkey legs or waiting in line next to a deodorant-challenged South American tour group for 40 minutes to take part in a two-minute recreation of Peter Pan’s flight — unless I’m somewhere with “Magic” and “Kingdom” in its name. Then, I do these things with a zip-a-dee-do-dah in my heart. It should be noted that Mary, a friend who flew in from Arizona to run with me, had zero desire to do wear anything other than what would keep her going until she crossed the finish line. And that’s a totally respectable POV.
When I do run in costume, I don’t want my costume to look like yours. Sorry, but it’s true. That usually means I have to make it from scratch. Which is a problem, because …
I don’t sew, craft, knit, crochet, weave, embroider or hot glue gun. I’ve been working on a cross-stitched advent calendar for my mom for FOUR YEARS. Bottom line: I’m not skilled in the domestic arts. So for my first costume a few years ago — Pocahontas, which I wore in Disney’s inaugural Princess Half Marathon — I manhandled a khaki crewneck tee shirt until it turned into an asymmetrical buckskin tunic and hoped no one noticed the wildly uneven stitching, which looked like it had been done by a palsied crazy person. Still, from a distance, and with the addition of a necklace and a ribbon bicep tattoo attached to my iPod holder, not too bad methinks.
It definitely says "Princess Kimberly" on my bib.
This year, though, I needed true talent on my team: Enter Momma Buns, crafting queen extraordinaire. I sent her this:
And this: (Don’t be alarmed that my model seems to have lost about 15 lbs. between the front and back views. She’s fine.)
Jason Wu, look out.
If this were one of those awesome, crafty blogs that I love to read (Future Girl, CraftyPod—I’m looking at you), I’d have step-by-step photos and easy-to-follow directions for you to make your very own Belle apron. It’s not. I showed up at Momma Buns’ house on Saturday afternoon, and the apron was ready to go. “In the future,” she said in pretty much the same tone she used when I was in sixth grade and forgot about a science project until the night before it was due, forcing me to stay up all night drawing pictures of bird beaks and her to spend the wee hours scanning stacks of library books for the perfect profile view of a scarlet macaw, “a little more notice would be helpful.”
In my opinion, Momma did a pretty rockin’ job. I added a plastic rose and some blue ribbon to tie back my ponytail, and we got this:
With Mary at the start
Be our sweaty, funky guest
Not too bad, right?
As for the race and the rest of the weekend, I think I shall sum it up in photos:
The rental place gave us a minivan. Mary ruled the back seats with an iron fist.
At the expo, Mr. HB and I re-enacted a scene from Fantasia. Yeah, I'm the hippo.
Our bed at the hotel. As Mr. HB put it, "It looks like a City Sports threw up in there."
My legs, hoisted high at the pool during a mid-afternoon sun session, in a vain attempt to make them feel rested for that evening's run. All it got me was weird looks from Mr. HB ...
... who maybe shouldn't have been so quick to judge. (I kid! I kid!)
Post-race, with my biggest fan/personal cheering section/logistics manager, and our pal, Richard, who took this great shot! Now, let's hit Epcot for the after-party!
Changed and chillin' with Dopey and Snow White after the race. In the cosmetics aisle of an Orlando Walgreen's the night before, Mary and I hatched a hee-larious plan to wear ridiculous Nicky Minaj-type fake eyelashes to the party. One of us carried through with this plan. One did not. I'll let you figure out who's who.
Haiku winners!
Hi haulers. Life got crazy last week, and then there was Rosh Hashahnah and baking, and then there was the Disney Wine and Dine Half Marathon and this:
time to get my workout on
so the pounds be gone
Maggie’s haiku:
My sneakers against pavement
Salubrious life!
Both Maggie and Stephanie will receive a copy of My Run: The Terry Hitchcock Story. Great job, ladies! And thanks to everyone who sent in poems!
CONTEST: Five lines to glory
You budding bards may be wondering exactly what you’ll win if your poem is chosen in the Haul Buns haiku contest. Aside from the admiration of your fellow haulers, the authors of the top two haikus will win DVD copies of My Run: The Terry Hitchcock Story.
My Run is a documentary about Hitchcock, the Santa-looking guy on the left in the awesome track suit, a widower who ran the equivalent of 75 marathons in 75 days to raise awareness about the challenges single-parent families face. If it sounds a little strange, it is; Hitchcock was a middle-aged guy in just-okay health who hadn’t run very much before he undertook his journey. But his story is also incredibly moving, especially if you’ve ever gone about doing something that seemed absolutely impossible at the outset. My Run is super motivating, especially for runners; when it was in theaters, my run group went, and we cried like babies.
Thanks to the folks at My Run for providing the DVDs for the giveaway!
Watch the trailer below, and then start crafting those haikus!
Be silly. Have fun. And please don’t take yourself seriously. Send your haikus to haulbuns [AT] gmail [DOT] com. Feel free to submit as many times as you like by 11:59 p.m. EDT on Thursday, Sept. 22, 2011.
So, that was my Saturday . . .
I accidentally signed up for two fitness events on the same day planned a huge day of fitness fun this past Saturday, starting with New York Road Runners’ Fitness Body, Mind, Spirit Games in Central Park. As Steph and I were walking along Central Park West to the race, a couple in an old-school sedan pulled up alongside us and asked for directions to 67th and Madison. I crouched down next to the car and told them how they were going to cross Central Park at the 72nd Street transverse. They asked if there were any bridges to go under. Only then did I realize what they were towing behind them.
As it turns out, I was giving directions to Harry and Barbara, two members of the Waterloo German Band, who had driven their car and freaking awesome float all the way from Illinois to Manhattan for this year’s German-American Steuben Parade. (Check them out in action; pretty impressive.) Once I routed the couple around the park — and away from any low-hanging overpasses — they thanked me. As then as we were walking away, they honked, beckoned me back, and very sweetly asked me to mail some postcards for them. Why the heck not? They had literally hauled a larger-than-life cuckoo clock replica behind them across six states; it was the least I could do.
Much later in the day, Steph and I were lamenting the fact that we hadn’t taken a picture of the float before the clock rolled away. As we were telling Mr. Haul Buns (or, The Artist Formerly Known as The Fiancé Formerly Known as The Boyfriend—whichever you prefer, because I’m fairly certain he doesn’t prefer either) about our day, I pulled out the postcards to show him and bam! They were Waterloo German Band postcards! Harry and Barbara, you guys rock — mostly because your cards proved to the skeptical Mr. HB that the float actually WAS festooned with a stuffed deer head.
Anyway, after our Good Samaritan stint, Steph and I ran the Fitness 4-miler. The Biggest Loser‘s Bob Harper was there on behalf of Quaker, and TBL‘s season 11 winner Olivia Ward and her sister and teammate, Hannah Curlee, were on hand to cheer for all of the runners. Steph got thisclose to meeting Bob, but his press person scuttled him away from fans just before the start of the race. This photo is all we have to remember our almost-encounter with The Blonde One.
Maybe he ran away from us because I was yelling, "Believe in yourself, trust the process, change forever!"
Happy with our times, and with me gingerly nursing the knee I’d scraped when I took a header getting into the start corral — sigh — Steph and I took the 2 train down to South Street Seaport for Women’s Health magazine’s Are You Game?
This pretty awesome day of (relatively) free group fitness classes and swag giveaways was so much fun. TBL‘s season 11 trainer Cara Castronuova was there to teach a boxing class; during a Q&A, she told us all that women should be able to throw a nice, clean punch. Seems like good advice.
(Photo: Stephanie Pinsdorf)
Though we got shut out of a few classes because we hadn’t reserved spots (a definite must for next year), we took part in two really great sessions: Rock Yoga, a vinyasa class set to songs like Guns N’ Roses’ “Patience” and Aerosmith’s “Dream On” — it shouldn’t have worked, but it totally did — and La Blast, a cardio ballroom class developed by Dancing with the Stars’ pro Louis Van Amstel. Amstel was even there to teach the class; from the moment he told us to shake our boobs and think with our pelvic regions, I knew I’d have a pretty great time. Afterward, Steph and I weren’t about to let this blonde, male reality TV personality get away without taking a photo with us.
Harper, this coulda been you.
CONTEST: Haiku, do you?
I was going to use one of those old etchings of bald William Shakespeare, but this is so much nicer, right?
You haulers are a creative bunch, and now you’re going to have the chance to prove it. All you have to do is 1) “like” Haul Buns on Facebook, and 2) create a haiku, or three-line poem, about being active. You could base it on your own experience or completely make something up. I don’t give a fig. But I DO care about sticking to haiku form: First line is five syllables, second is seven syllables, third is five syllables. Your poem doesn’t have to rhyme, but it can. It might go a little something like this:
The sun’s not up yet
And yet I don my Fuel Belt
I must be crazy
— or —
My hips never lie
But at Zumba they shimmy
Watch out Shakira
Be silly. Have fun. And please don’t take yourself seriously. Send your haikus to haulbuns [AT] gmail [DOT] com. Feel free to submit as many times as you like by 11:59 p.m. EDT on Thursday, Sept. 22, 2011.
But what do we win, you ask? Come back on Monday for that little detail!
Buns Watchers
As I mentioned in an earlier post, summer 2011 was busy and awesome and busy and life-changing and busy for me. It kicked off in June, when The Fiancé and I became Mr. and Mrs. Haul Buns.
Photo credit: Brian Phillips Photography
Then we spent a beautiful mini-moon in Lake Placid . . . where my chronic Achilles’ tendinitis flared up so badly that I was unable to run for about six weeks. Goodbye to the running I’d hoped would help me work off everything I’d consumed during the lead-up to the wedding and the sweet days of bliss in Lake Placid. (Seriously, I drank nothing but wine, sparkling and otherwise, for about two weeks. It was heavenly. I can’t wait until I’m old and insane and can do that all the time.) And goodbye, too, to this:
Yep, my involuntary respite from running came right at the time that I was supposed to start training for this year’s New York City Marathon. As you guys know, watching the marathon last year got me all pumped up to run it again this year. But I’m going to defer so I can come back strong in 2012. And I’ve definitely got racing plans (for shorter distances) in the near future. More on that later.
Back to the point. I wasn’t running. I was drinking cava and eating brie and having a grand old time making googly eyes at my new hubby, but not so much with the cardiovascular activity. And even though I went back to weighing in at Weight Watchers immediately following our return to real life, I wasn’t really doing what I needed to do.
The summer passed. I continued to weigh in each week, but every single time, I found a reason not to go to one of the weekly meetings. I’d go up a few pounds, down a few pounds, up, down, up. My thinking ran along these lines: “Hm. The scale said I gained half a pound. Interesting. [beat] Do we have any more of those peanut M&Ms left?”
Anyway, I slowly got back into my workout groove, but just couldn’t seem to get my WW mojo working. So last week, I finally went to a meeting. It was held in a church hall. It was a little noisy. But my tush stayed in that chair for the entire meeting. And this week, I lost a little weight. Just a little, but it’s a start. Again.
Helping motivate me: Weight Watchers’ Lose for Good program, which helps raise money and donate food for hungry children and families. But you don’t have to be a member to fight the good fight; your local WW center would be happy to take any nonperishable food you’d like to deliver. For a list of locations, go here and click “Find a Meeting” at the top of the page.
Bring Your Sneakers to Work day
This Friday is Run at Work Day, according to the Road Runners Club of America. Since the RRCA are the good people who saw fit to make me a running coach, I wanted to spread the word. It’s a pretty good idea, regardless of whose it was: I’ve slowly worked my way back to doing something active on my lunch break — I was really good about it when I started my current job almost two years ago, but then I got lazy. For the past few months, I’ve made a point to get out of the office for an afternoon treadmill seession or Spinning class a couple of times a week, and it really makes me feel better about work, life, stress, all of it. (Isn’t it annoying when the fitness magazines are right?) If you get any kind of break in your day, a brisk walk (or any kind of physical activity, really) is better than coffee, chocolate, or any of those old reliables we use to keep us going.
I know. You’re so busy. Or you don’t have a set lunch break. Or the company will grind to a halt without you. Screw it. Your health and happiness are more important than whether Larry in Accounting has his TPS reports by 3 p.m. In fact, why don’t you ask Larry if he wants to walk or run with you? Pretty soon, you and Larry will be the cool kids. Everyone in the office will want to be part of your run/walk club. You’ll have to put people on a waiting list. There’ll be team shirts, jackets, water bottles! Bob Harper will show up, begging you to tell him your secret to motivating people to lead healthy lives. And you’ll pause in your lunchtime 5K to say, “Well, there’s this awesome blog I read called Haul Buns…”
Bam. Now, who’s in?!?
Will it help if I tell you Larry from Accounting looks like this?
"Hi! Want an excuse to get sweaty with me?"
And you thought Spanx were bad
Every once in a while at the gym, I’ll see people who wrap themselves with non-breathable pieces of plastic or rubber or foam, usually around their midsections, in an effort to lose water weight by making themselves sweat more while working out. Those people look silly. If you are one of those people, I still love you, but you look silly. Dudes also do this, but I’ve noticed that they usually opt for the entire body rubber warm-up suit or the sweatshirt-over-towel-around-the-neck-over-sweatshirt approach. Guys, did Martin Lawrence teach you nothing? (Perhaps the first time that sentence has ever been typed.)
I try to avert my eyes in these situations, but there’s only so much to look at while you’re on the treadmill, and I find those super-uncomfortable-looking swaths of man-made materials oddly hypnotic. It’s like a shrink-wrapped trainwreck. I always wonder if the Velcro will pop off and go boomeranging around the cardio room like a bat freed from the zoo.
Anyway, those people would probably dig these new “fat burning” undies, which seem like Spanx on steroids. Side note: These CAN’T breathe well. Why must the flattening of the female abdomen always require turning the lady garden into a hothouse?
