Operation Beach Body and the "C" Word Mystery

Every year, on my birthday (which happens to fall on March 21st--the first day of Spring) I start an intense routine which I call: Operation Beach-Body. I love to spend every spare moment on the beach in the summer- soaking up the sun, feeling the sand between my toes, taking an occasional dip in the cool, refreshing water. In order for me to really enjoy all this, however, there is a great deal of preparation involved. You see, I have this ridiculously unfounded, deep-rooted fear that the Coast Guard and a team of marine biologists will gather 'round for a beached-whale rescue mission the moment I sprawl out on a beach blanket in my bathing suit. Just because I am a nutritional consultant and recently made the transition from Vegetarian to Vegan, doesn't mean I am immune to winter weight-gain and a few lumps and bumps here and there.   I have those "OMG! I have to wear a swim suit in public" panic attacks just like everyone else. This is why I prepare well in advance for those hazy, hot, humid days by the seashore.

Here's my Operation Beach Body Routine:

Break out the swim suits.....
I have several but my faves: a one piece with a deep plunging neck-line and my push-up bra bikini- both black, of course. I remove them from storage and hang them over my bedroom door for inspiration. I won't even consider indulging in a late-night snack or skipping a work-out as long as those sexy suits are in view. I know I only have a few short months to squeeze my body into them or be forced to wear my "Good Christian Girl" bathing suit. I don't think so!

Shift into Hyper-Drive.....
I tend to get lazy in the winter. I try to slide by with a little daily yoga, some weight lifting (when I feel like it) and an occasional stroll on the treadmill. I want to show some skin in the summer so I know I need to step it up with consistent hard-core work-outs.

Skip the Comfort Food.......
No more mac and cheese, chili with homemade cornbread, pasta, pancakes or potatoes. When the first day of Spring arrives, I stock my fridge and pantry with lots of fresh fruit, green veggies, nuts, avocados, and lean protein like tofu, tempeh, and beans. I also make sure I drink plenty of water.

The Morning and Evening Skin Prep......
My skin tends to be dry so spring, summer, winter, fall, I religiously exfoliate and cover my body with cream and oil.  I don't want to look and feel like an old catcher's mitt. My Operation Beach Body Morning and Evening Skin Prep is something all together different. I am almost ashamed to admit this. Brace yourselves because I am going to say it--the dreaded "C" word! CELLULITE! I have it....that's right....those yucky, cottage cheese lumps and bumps that all women fear and try to cure or hide. Every woman in my family has cellulite. It's genetic. My mother is loaded with it. My poor Aunt Ann (God rest her soul), had it so badly, she actually looked deformed. It was as if her torso rested on two giant overstuffed sacks of marbles.

My mother and my aunt never really exercised a day in their lives so they are extreme cases. I am still young and fairly active, so I really only have a little touch of cellulite. But I know it's there on the backs of my thighs and I am self-conscious about it.

 I am absolutely terrified my genes will dictate the envitable--that my thighs will some day resemble those in this photo. To prevent the
'DeSanti Curse', as we affectionately call it in my family, I eat right, exercise, and use cellulite treatment creams. The creams cost me a few hundred dollars every year and it's a two-part system- a day cream and a night cream. It's so darn cold in my house I use only the day cream in the winter, as soon as I step out of the shower. On my birthday, that all changes. I use both every single day. The night cream is thicker and the application is a bit more complicated.

I must apply it liberally, massage it in with one of these, and let it dry......

I have been doing this for years. It hasn't really cured my cellulite problem but as long as I keep using these creams, it's less noticeable.


So on my 49th birthday, I broke out the night cream and my cellulite massager.  There I stood naked in front of my full length mirror for the first time this year. You can imagine my surprise when I turned to inspect the backs of my thighs and there wasn't any cellulite! 


I ran to get my glasses because I was convinced that old age had stolen my eye-sight and my mind. Even with the glasses....no cellulite!


 I racked my brains trying to think of what I did differently this winter. I wanted to join a gym this year, but couldn't fit it into my already hectic schedule so I worked out at home, as usual. I thought about subjecting myself to a treatment like this......

but......I just couldn't justify spending all that money!


What did I do that made my cellulite disappear?



Then it dawned on me! This past September I made two radical changes. I stopped drinking alcohol and I became a full-fledged Vegan. No Happy Hours. No Friday nights hanging out at the local bar. No glasses of wine with dinner. I stopped eating dairy, eggs and all animal products. There have been occasional slip-ups but as rule, these things are no longer a part of my life. 

Oh. My. Goodness.....this is incredible!

What am I trying to say? Well......I can't promise that giving up Happy Hour or adopting a Vegan diet will make your cellulite disappear, but it certainly worked miracles for me! If you don't want to make such drastic changes to your life, why not cut back on milk, cheese, eggs, and meat and limit your cocktails to one or two a week and see what happens? It's worth a shot. And even if you don't experience the same results I did, I promise you this......you will feel so healthy, vibrant and self confident, you won't give a damn about a little bit of cellulite!

I am still applying both of those creams daily, by the way. I don't think Mother Nature is playing an evil trick on me, but just in case she is, I want to be sure I've got it all covered! 

And this is my Daily Cyn......

Life is Like a Restaurant

Life is like dining at a restaurant.  You choose what you want from the menu.  If you don't like the dish served to you, try something else.  If nothing on the menu pleases you,  pick a new restaurant!  If you are still not happy, maybe it's time for some good old-fashioned home-cooking.

And this is my Daily Cyn............

Why Are My Abs So Sore?

My abs are killing me!

 I rolled out of bed this morning and noticed how much they hurt.  They hurt yesterday, too, but today it's even worse. They are sore, aching-- but a good kind of ache.  A healthy kind of pain.  You know what I mean.  Not an "OMG, I think I just pulled something!" kind of pain. It's more like I have discovered some layer of muscle I didn't know I had and if I keep on doing what I am doing, it will bring me one step closer to looking great in a bikini when and if summer ever arrives.

And, no.....this is NOT me in the photo, but a girl can dream, can't she?






This morning, over coffee, I tried to think about what I've been doing that's so different.

Why am I so sore?

I hate to exercise.  I force myself to do it.  I do pilates, yoga,  lift weights, walk on my lunch break, take the stairs instead of the elevator at work.   I do fifty sit-ups every morning, cursing as I count.  Thankfully, no one but my cat P'aqu is here to observe my amusing routine.  He jumps right into the warm spot I leave behind in the bed and watches me as I flop around on the floor like a fish out of water . Sometimes I cheat and don't do all fifty. Then I remember the cat is watching. I get back on the floor and finish....out of guilt.

"Forty-eight @#*!, Forty-nine @#*!, Fifty @#*! @#*! "

I wish I loved to exercise.  I would love to be a work-out junkie.  I would be tight and taught and not have to spend time browsing through catalogs for those MuMu-style beach cover-ups.

Sadly,  I haven't added anything to my normal, dreadful routine, so why are my abs so sore?

I remembered feeling the same pain last week, too. Then it dawned on me. The baby! My little two year old niece Gabriella was over this past Monday and she was here the same time last week, as well.  And the Monday before that.

Gabriella is a bundle of energy.   If I could bottle some of that energy and sell it, I would be a multi-millionaire. She tears our house apart, touching everything, dragging pots, pans, bottles and boxes from cabinets and closets. She chases the cat and dog until they collapse in corner, completely exhausted.  It take an hour to clean up the mess she leaves behind each time she comes to visit. But she loves her Auntie Cyndi (that's me).  She calls me " Ti-Ti."  I run with her through the house like a lunatic. She screams and squeals with delight.  I drag out my yoga mat, lay on my back, hold her up over my head, and she pretends to fly.  I extend my legs upward, balance her on my feet, and drop and catch her over and over.  I hold her upside down and carry her through the house. This goes on for hours. She loves it. She can't get enough. No one else in the family has the stamina to play with her this way.  I am forty-nine years old and by some miracle, I do have the strength and energy.  I must admit, I am worn-out when she leaves.  My sister called me this Tuesday morning and said, " What did you do to my granddaughter? It's 9am and she's still sleeping!"  Evidently, little Gabriella was worn-out, too.

Ahhh.....this is why my abs hurt!

I am lifting a forty pound child over my head and tossing her around like a rag-doll.  Which got me thinking......if I did that every single day, I would be so fit with very little effort.  I laugh so hard when I play with my niece and enjoy each precious moment.  What can be better than that? And I am getting quite a work-out.  I have the sore abs to prove it. 

 You know you have to exercise.  It's the only way to stay fit and maintain muscle.  But perhaps you can mix it up a little.  Lifting weights? YUCK.  Fifty sit-ups every morning? BORING!  Maybe it doesn't always have to be such torture.  Perhaps adding some fun activities to your normal routine would make it more exciting? Chasing the kids around the house, playing basketball, bike riding, roller skating, hiking, dancing, a night of great sex? Hmmmmm.....all exercise, but FUN exercise.

Don't forget to play, people! Enjoy your life. Get out there and move. Have fun.  Forget about yourself and just be crazy. Your body will reap the benefits and your heart and soul will, too.

And this is my Daily Cyn.........

Lessons in the Dirt............

When I was little, I would gather together with all my girlfriends and play "House".  This was the 1960's, so we all aspired to be just like our mothers-good wives and caretakers.   The thought of having a career outside the home when we were older never crossed our minds.  We copied what we saw every day--women changing diapers, shopping, cleaning, and cooking.  Cooking was the most fascinating of all.  That was when a woman was allowed to be creative.  So, armed with a collection of discarded Polly-O Ricotta containers and old tins, we would make mud cakes and pies from dirt in the yard. Then we would feed them to my brother.

My brother was a year younger than me and always tagging along.  All the other boys in the neighborhood were out and about playing baseball, football or some other kind of sport.  My brother Joe was never really the "sports-type" so he didn't get along with the boys.  They would run off and leave him behind.  The girls didn't really want him either, he was after-all, a boy.  If he wanted to be part of our club, he had to do whatever we said.  Desperate to be included, my beautiful brother willingly obeyed and allowed us to feed him spoonful after spoonful of dirt. 

Each evening when we came inside, my mom would wash us up for dinner.  She would ask Joe the same question every single day. "Son, have you been eating dirt?"  My brother would swear up and down he did not and Mom would let it go. He didn't realize those dried clumps of grit and sand collecting in the corners of his mouth were a dead give-away  Of course I wasn't about to say a word about it.  I would get a whipping for sure if I let on that I was feeding my brother dirt. 

This went on for quite some time and my mom never pushed the issue.  Then one evening it all changed. It was a Wednesday and we were having spaghetti (every good Italian housewife served spaghetti on Wednesday).  Mom lovingly placed huge plates of pasta and meatballs on the table for me and my dad.  

My brother was served a big bowl of dirt.

Tears streamed down my brother's face as he stared at the meal set before him. "Where's my spaghetti?" he cried.
"Well, " Mom replied. " Since you enjoy eating dirt outside all day, I thought you would like to have it for dinner tonight!'

Dear friends, I remember this day as if it happened yesterday. It was painful. It was awful.  The tears and humiliation were truly heartbreaking as my brother and I sat there and sobbed before our parents.  


Joe cried because his secret was out.  I cried because I was such a mean and heartless sister. After much begging, pleading and promising to never again eat dirt, eventually my brother got his big dish of spaghetti.  I got a spanking.

After that day, my brother never ate dirt again. And I refused to allow anyone to try and feed it to him.

You might think this is cruel and unusual punishment but there was a method to our mother's madness.  Certainly she did not want my brother eating dirt.  All those germs and bugs and God knows what! But there was a deeper lesson here.  She wanted to heal something inside of each of us. 

My brother's need and desire to be part of a group caused him to suffer humilation and lower his standards.  He subjected himself to abuse. He allowed himself to be pushed around by his big sister and her friends and eat dirt.  He didn't want to eat dirt.  He just wanted to be accepted.

My lesson was a bit different.  I also wanted to be part of the group but it ran deeper than that. Not only was I willing to stand by and watch my brother subject himself to such stupidity, I was the one who actually fed it to him. I was the older one and he trusted me.  Whatever I said, he would do because he wanted my love and my friendship.

People will feed us what allow them to feed us.  We also allow others to be abused by standing there and letting it happen. This is how a victim is born.

 No group, organization, friendship or love is worth sacrificing what you think is right or good.  If it tastes awful, it is awful and it is harmful.  Perhaps not physically harmful, but certainly damaging to your spirit. Never allow anyone to spoon feed you something you don't want to eat.


If my mother had not done what she did, and my brother continued to allow us to feed him dirt, he might have become a man with no mind of his own and constantly abused by others. He is not like that now at all. He is strong and kind and thinks for himself.  As for me, I could have grown into an unkind, uncaring, abusive woman, standing by and allowing others to be hurt, at my own hand or at the hands of others. Thankfully, that is not who I am.

Don't eat dirt. Don't allow anyone to feed it to you, don't feed it to others, and don't stand by and watch someone feed it to another person.

And this is my Daily Cyn.........
 

Trapped

We all exist in some kind of cocoon. We wrap ourselves tightly within it and hide.  Why wouldn't we? It's warm, and cozy, secure and familiar.  We have no idea who we really are and because we are afraid of the pain involved in emerging from our little cocoon, we remain shut in and closed off from everything that exists beyond our familiar little shelter.

In our cocoon, we have a clouded vision and version of the world beyond.  All sight and sound is distorted because we are trapped inside a filter.  We cannot see or hear clearly. So.... we remain, wrapped up in our insecurities and our fears. We cannot see how beautiful we are.  We still think we are caterpillars with no real purpose other than creeping and crawling upon the earth. 

 If we continue to stay in that place we will eventually die.  We will become so trapped that we will lose all hope, dry up and wither away.  We long for something beyond our little world but are too afraid to emerge and take a peek outside. And so we stay-- trapped, confined, stunted. We have no idea that we have wings because there is no room to spread them.

Gather the strength and the courage to break forth from the protective shell.  Everything we need, we already have.  Break free and leave it all behind.  We are gorgeous butterflies--ready, willing and able to fly.  The world is waiting to see our beauty...........

And this is my Daily Cyn.......

10 Ways to Save at the Supermarket | Eat This, Not That

I am all for saving money, especially in this economy! Here are ten ways to save at the Supermarket!!

10 Ways to Save at the Supermarket Eat This, Not That



And this is my Daily Cyn......

Industry-Wide Use of Meat Glue Sticks Together Scraps of Meat To Sell You Prime Cuts

Those Prime cuts of beef you pay big money for might be nothing more than scraps of meat held together with meat glue! YUCK! Does this bother anybody? It SHOULD! If you eat meat, be aware of who and where you buy from. Eat locally. If you want to avoid this all together, stop eating meat. Become a vegetarian or a vegan! I can help you with that. Email me or message me for more info... Here's the article/video about the Meat Glue.... Industry-Wide Use of Meat Glue Sticks Together Scraps of Meat To Sell You Prime Cuts And this is my Daily Cyn......