tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52004659587125465362024-03-13T13:26:23.260-07:00Salubrious Insanitytinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-29749047516383922252010-07-13T15:43:00.000-07:002010-07-13T15:57:41.612-07:00Mission: DinnerSo hey--there's this boy, Marshall Reid (age 10). He's been doing something pretty darn cool.<br /><br />On a mission to eat more healthily, he's undertaken his own "<a href="http://pagingdrgupta.blogs.cnn.com/2010/07/13/boy-10-loses-11-pounds-on-monthlong-mission/?hpt=Sbin">Portion Size Me Challenge</a>." What this entails is finding low-fat, low-calorie substitutions for popular dishes every night for a month, using only wholesome ingredients. Think ground turkey and low-fat sour cream and ample fresh veggies for tacos.<br /><br />Without portion-cutting or calorie-counting or obsessing, Marshall has lost 11 pounds in about a month--while enjoying real food.<br /><br />Think of it as a lifestyle change.<br /><br />-Ttinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-45278075383157780122010-07-07T15:14:00.000-07:002010-07-07T15:33:01.558-07:00SpottedSpotted as I lunched in front of Coffee Society:<br /><br />Two older women, I'd say about 60 to 65 years of age, sipping lattes and chatting it up. Dressed in white shoes and argygle, clearly just back from a round of golf.<br /><br />Lady 1: "You were amazing out there!"<br />Lady 2: "I know! All my shots were going perfectly! It felt great!"<br />Lady 1: "You were amazing."<br />Lady 2: "Thanks, I know!"<br /><br />Pretty simple, nothing too special there. But I took notice because how often have I heard people sheepishly refute compliments? Accepting a compliment means you're proud of yourself and aware of your capabilities and talents. Love how naturally Lady 2 took it in stride!<br /><br />I discreetly returned my attention to eating.<br /><br />-Ttinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-16788426222136195102009-08-04T15:19:00.000-07:002009-08-04T17:30:25.135-07:00SchemesIt is well known that maintaining weight is an energy equation: calories in, calories out. The formula is a simple one of sums and differences--add up energy ingested, subtract energy burned. A total of 3,500 extra calories signifies one gained pound; conversely, a deficit of 3,500 indicates the loss of a pound. A straightforward computation indeed.<br /><br />However, eating is rarely so simple, because calories are far from the only factor of consideration. Vitamins, minerals, phytonutrients, fiber, macronutrients: in other words, the <span style="font-style: italic;">quality</span> of the food. Consider the example of Weight Watchers® brand <span style="font-weight: bold;">Golden Sponge Cake</span>:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqgqf0zvT_W6RVeGp_CitAEvg3AO2yJgqccvuyAuGcYGaeUEkMzbSBEKhGRUNB_xdIwUH1_fhL3vkn4MGQ4cloCKpa-lyWhqrdFcbjuNm55tUf22KPvUrnvZLCd7UT0BVIRc6_HpdXhZc/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqgqf0zvT_W6RVeGp_CitAEvg3AO2yJgqccvuyAuGcYGaeUEkMzbSBEKhGRUNB_xdIwUH1_fhL3vkn4MGQ4cloCKpa-lyWhqrdFcbjuNm55tUf22KPvUrnvZLCd7UT0BVIRc6_HpdXhZc/s320/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366266981202217618" border="0" /></a>The pleasantly slim, oblong box touts a reassuring Weight Watchers® logo. It contains six individually wrapped pastries that bear a remarkable resemblance to Hostess Cakes brand Twinkies®. They are fluffy and golden, plump with creamy white filling--but with only 80 calories and 3 grams of fat apiece, reasonably healthy and perfectly incorporable into a nutritious diet, right?<br /><br />Perhaps not. Past the Golden Sponge Cake's rather uncatchy moniker, 1 Point Badge, and charming exterior, there is nearly nothing comforting about its contents. And it has many, many contents, 44 precisely--the first of which is sugar. If that were not suspicious enough, consider the others: enriched flour, stripped of any nutrients it once posessed and fortified with non-absorbable ones. Monocalcium phosphate: what is that? A common component of agricultural fertilizers. Er... what is it doing in my snack? Propylene glycol: used in deodorants, antifreeze, massage oils. Artificial flavor: unlike in people and detective novels, I do not appreciate mystery in my food.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5L-mVnhehlbDe8tNzvfMpesG3vv_n12H8JmO-uRSCwl1xfe8b41vpX4zTziSafGhs81GwyLAiFqqaZRHWu9mQw4Md5bIIzxt-zSPsJMvFZEUhzBhH3wxqzSSTyy4IF8lLRLufzxK7jK0/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 191px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5L-mVnhehlbDe8tNzvfMpesG3vv_n12H8JmO-uRSCwl1xfe8b41vpX4zTziSafGhs81GwyLAiFqqaZRHWu9mQw4Md5bIIzxt-zSPsJMvFZEUhzBhH3wxqzSSTyy4IF8lLRLufzxK7jK0/s320/Picture+2.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366267369342658210" border="0" /></a>In Steve Ettlinger's delightfully probing book <u>Twinkie, Deconstructed</u>, the soft, buttery nature of the Twinkie is scrutinized carefully. Turns out that the 'butter' is manufactured from natural gas; the filling is shiny and voluminous thanks to cellulose gum. Horrifying indeed, but not much worse than the Golden Sponge Cake, despite its claims of health and guiltfree snacking. Both contain ingredients that, when isolated, would never be considered edible. Baking them into pastries should not alter that fact.<br /><br />Which results in a basic rule of thumb: if a food (or sub-food) needs to extol its own virtues by way of bright assertions of health, it doesn't really deserve them. No manufacturer would waste money promoting a product that is truly, irrevocably healthy--think fresh fruits and vegetables. Parsnips are not labeled "low calorie," nor are pumpkins stamped with the words "high fiber."<br /><br />Remember that products are marketed so that you will buy them. So buy real food, read the labels, and <span style="font-style: italic;">caveat emptor</span>.tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-75437894976947957362009-06-27T20:14:00.000-07:002009-06-28T00:04:14.483-07:00Yellow Starred PurpleA sweet, repetitive jingle rolls on endlessly, punctuated only intermittently by soft plopping noises. It is inexplicably satisfying to watch the pastel-hued lumps of virtual ice cream soar through an imagined sky that morphs realistically with altitude, albeit rather rapidly: starting from a muted cityscape, coursing through the stars, past the moon, a ruddy Mars, and (as far as I have gotten) white-ringed Saturn.<br /><br />Seafoam green mint chip! Golden lemon! Cream vanilla! Speckly blue tutti-frutti! The most magnificent rainbow 'wild scoop'! ... that strange but enticing nonetheless lilac dollop!<br /><br />Unfortunately, there is the matter of those vexing vegetables... that self-satisfied tomato, those sanctimonious white and violet onions. The villains of the game Scoops. Three accidentally stacked onto one's cone signifies death. Game over. Even brushing against one of these dastardly dessert-ruiners is enough to provoke a ghastly wail: "WHOOOAAAH!"<br /><br />Of course, in reality, it is clear vegetables are far superior nutritionally to ice cream. The game even offers a little disclaimer: "veggies ARE great apart from icecream!" Therefore, the issue here is not the negative portrayal of innocently fibrous, antioxidant rich onions and tomatoes.<br /><br />What is interesting about the game is that it offers a 1UP chance in the form of a special ice cream scoop. Imagine your complete dismay as you tilt your screen in hopes of snagging that beautiful chocolate scoop and instead hear a sickening squelch as a dumpy tomato splats on top of your cone. One life vanishes instantly; the rate of the falling ice cream slows as if to mock your failing. Now picture the renewal, the cleansing sensation that you feel when, as if by magic, a glittering amethyst scoop emblazoned with yellow stars careens gracefully down the screen.<br /><br />It is a savior! You regain a star denoting another life, and are imbued with new confidence and delight as you continue the game.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-s35MAzZdCeLe4qi8swImDB56_PSYkFK4Nsugh6X5W_WmmXZ66_bsE-KE_N8sMu31j3grJ6q4EDowUOGQDudWcjGmtw5QSbqSVNmazYiCeYp63UyjN1HCZnXeyCgYZ7coblMONp7O1SI/s1600-h/Picture+6.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-s35MAzZdCeLe4qi8swImDB56_PSYkFK4Nsugh6X5W_WmmXZ66_bsE-KE_N8sMu31j3grJ6q4EDowUOGQDudWcjGmtw5QSbqSVNmazYiCeYp63UyjN1HCZnXeyCgYZ7coblMONp7O1SI/s320/Picture+6.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352246252721260898" border="0" /></a></div><br />It is a pity that Scoops cannot mirror reality. Who would not enjoy polychromatic lumps of sweet, cold dairy falling from the sky? More importantly, who would not give anything for the real-life version of the godly purple scoop--an instant fix-all, a global panacea? Unfortunately, it takes time, effort, motivation to earn good grades, lose weight, cure a disease.<br /><br />Perhaps this can be for the better, however--sometimes things mean a lot more when you have worked for them. It can be so much more fulfilling to stand back and realize where exactly the outcome was directly impacted by your own efforts. Would you be as inclined to maintain your success had you not understood the struggle that came before success?<br /><br />Yes, WT, for the record, the tomato is <a href="http://www.askoxford.com/asktheexperts/faq/aboutother/tomato">scientifically a fruit</a>.tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-42986720979083306012009-06-17T11:40:00.000-07:002009-06-17T16:15:12.137-07:00Summer Sadness?<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt45bHMy4jkqiD1xRxyYZyuhnJXl2mzmSCvuTt3o4UTxoY5O3uH_v-ve0L4t0vMnFxwDk2fN68ycJPhnZIBbYFZAaHOc3tq7nFHdRGahrWhWsHpBSaTOc-kVFGqhlhrtYm0XRJMznAgA/s1600-h/Picture+1.png"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 206px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt45bHMy4jkqiD1xRxyYZyuhnJXl2mzmSCvuTt3o4UTxoY5O3uH_v-ve0L4t0vMnFxwDk2fN68ycJPhnZIBbYFZAaHOc3tq7nFHdRGahrWhWsHpBSaTOc-kVFGqhlhrtYm0XRJMznAgA/s320/Picture+1.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348438779928647010" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:78%;">photo credit: Bram Janssens</span><br /></div><br />Summer: a cherished season of rippling crystalline blue water, of bright flashes of swimsuit prints, of the nostalgic scent of mown grass at dusk. For schoolchildren, a three-month respite from book bags and lectures; for everyone else, a stretch of delicious sunshine and greenness.<br /><br />However, this morning I chanced upon an eye-opening <a href="http://www.blogger.com/post-create.g?blogID=5200465958712546536">article</a> about summer depression. The phrase seems rather paradoxical: how could balmy, sunny joy possibly have anything to do with gelid, dark melancholy? I found myself lifting an eyebrow, but the disorder and its causes are actually quite intuitive:<br /><br />Summer Seasonal Affective Disorder:<br /><br />The more commonly cited (as well as appropriately abbreviated) SAD occurs during the wintertime months of low sunlight, dissipating like a vapor in the warmer months. Symptoms include fatigue, need for more sleep, and increased appetite, which often result in weight gain--rather reminiscent of a bear in torpor. However, Summer SAD, which enshrouds June, July, and August, results in just the opposite: restlessness, trouble sleeping, and consequential weight loss.<br /><br />Causes:<br /><br />Though not well understood, SAD seems to originate from a disruption of the body's biological clock that regulates sleep, mood, and hormones--a disruption that is linked to levels of light absorption. Additionally, the article cites other seasonal changes that can throw people off balance:<br /><br />- Changes in living patterns: Shorter days and the promise of glorious sunlight often entice people out of bed, but at a cost. Both parents' and children's routines are thrown into disarray when school and its regulating force is temporarily halted. Vacations alter established routines of eating, sleeping, and activity.<br /><br />- Body image issues: Magazines splayed with attractive models clad in minimal swimwear, social gatherings at the pool--summer is the season of skin. However, for those less confident about their bodies, the heat can signify the onslaught of anxiety, fear, and feelings of inferiority. Even intensive diet and exercise plans (often established at the beginning of 'bikini season') can produce negative effects, triggering pressure to succeed and hopelessness with failure.<br /><br />T<span style="font-style: italic;">oo much</span> sunlight, if there exists such an idea, can lead to summer depression. So can reveling in the glory of short nights, barbecues, pool parties, vacation. The article advises sufferers and would-be sufferers to recharge, eat properly, and understand their limits. Enjoy, but with caution.<br /><br />It appears that the lesson is that moderation ought to be exercised whenever possible--even when summer and its shimmery smile beckon.tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-64304493452451329222009-02-14T10:22:00.000-08:002009-06-17T22:58:16.455-07:00Be Mine<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkS474VAJIada3bIFVQJvHkjsGiWL9cKS5GCuZYzldp29PSVC-HSppNsAHDptKVinau0YoQHMtq1N234Vg0A_Oz5J0UvTzBqhEbL7LbEiOw9zr7Rl_suR28HWQAZ53ZAH75hB74Szkgk/s1600-h/IMG_4818.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEkS474VAJIada3bIFVQJvHkjsGiWL9cKS5GCuZYzldp29PSVC-HSppNsAHDptKVinau0YoQHMtq1N234Vg0A_Oz5J0UvTzBqhEbL7LbEiOw9zr7Rl_suR28HWQAZ53ZAH75hB74Szkgk/s320/IMG_4818.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302720482721032978" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">photo credit: Christina Ma</span><br /><br /></div>This February the 14th, will you choose to savor a crisply sweet-tart apple, or lavish yourself in the glacé decadence of a buttery apple strudel muffin?<br /><br />The choice is yours.<br /><br />Happy Valentine's Day.tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-38650274399917030932009-01-16T22:38:00.001-08:002009-01-17T21:33:27.105-08:00SAT StuporAs a high school junior with a weekend to spare, I am fully aware of the possibilities in which I could be indulging. Momentarily relieved from the black onus of finals, homework, and various social obligations, I am free to frolic, cavort, and caper to a reasonable degree (it is junior year, after all, and the horizon teems with leaden clouds). <div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">parties? picnics? photography? a facebook binge? ... a rave? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; ">Appealing pursuits indeed, but what have I been doing in my spare moments? SAT class and practice exams. Something certainly appears to be askew. After all, preparing for the SAT exam (January 24--just a week left!) does seem to lack the 'fun' factor so desperately craved by many. Hours spent in a stuffy hotel room, enshrouded in the almost visible stupor of ennui of 16 high school students, do not necessarily bring about an <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">alacrity</span> to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">assimilate</span> information. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"></span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(And it is true that despite most valiant efforts on my part, the paper-thin practice tests have yet to be labeled satisfactorily with a color--ecru with a gray pallor is the closest I have come. Additionally, something truly must be done about the surfeit of candy the instructors use to stimulate our attention...)</span></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>However, SAT class is quickly becoming my love. I deeply appreciate the opportunity--that my parents are able, and willing, to pay to give me information to do well on an exam--information that I perhaps could glean for free from an old prep book in the library. But it extends past this. </div><div><br /></div><div>I feel empowered. I know I am doing as much as possible to ensure success on the SAT. I head to each class and approach each practice exam with a sense of purpose. My score will be directly influenced by how hard I work now, and that is unambiguous. I am not letting any 'unforeseen circumstances' alter my performance; I am committed and steadfast and unrelenting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Admittedly, the SAT is just a standardized test that in all probability does not come close to measuring the intelligence, or scholastic aptitude, of the taker. Claims that it lacks socioeconomic equality probably have some basis in fact. However--this feeling of confidence and preparation is one that is universal, legitimate, and is something that I will strive to achieve more often.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, yes, I have been missing out, but I have gained so much more.</div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-9796915639750776732009-01-01T22:18:00.000-08:002009-01-17T10:17:57.554-08:00How to Write Effective New Years Resolutions!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC76LerUjegvytDs2lwFIzfQ3a-07nFc84xrnANUBFl9jSnQ73X-q1ogD6qWwRgPAoVy3VDTeeQjiM0kTcAztVdbn8t3u-V15XoVaM97VZK2Kkd5IMWIJp_70m50tlwM-TN4sZgX2iADg/s1600-h/Picture+2.png"></a><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">Happy 2009!</span> With a new year come fresh opportunities and energized resolve. However, an unsettling convention seems to have developed from the once-optimistic creation of new years resolutions. From the well-intentioned but doomed 'to change my life for the better!' emerges a darker shadow of doubt, desperation, and impotency. <div><br /></div><div>Indeed, upon trawling the vast infinitude of blogosphere, I have found several heartbreaking examples:</div><div><ul><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"It's tragic though, because I know deep down (as much as I deny it) that I won't follow most of these resolutions anyhow" </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">one doleful blogger admits. </span></span><br /></li><li><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-weight: bold; font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">"10 New Years Resolutions I Know I'm Not Going to Keep"</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: rgb(34, 34, 34); font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> adorned another's list.</span></span></li></ul><div>Why is it that resolutions are so simple to set, yet far easier to shatter? The truth is that disillusionment is entirely preventable. Here are a few guidelines:</div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">1. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Articulate definitive and organized objectives.</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li>If you don't know what you want, you're never going to get it.</li><li>Establish your reason for going after the goal. </li><li>Try grouping your resolutions in categories (Health and Fitness, Relationships, Work)</li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">2. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Details, details, details.</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li>Identify what has prevented your success previously and find ways to overcome such obstacles.</li><li>Under each main resolution, specify <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">how</span> you are going to strive to accomplish it.</li><li>The more specific you are, the less room you have for error.</li></ul><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">3. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Proliferate.</span></span></span><br /></div><div><ul><li>Remind yourself of your resolutions often. </li><li>Make several copies of your list and post them where you will notice them.</li><li>Enlist <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">supportive</span> friends and family to remind you of your goals.</li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">4. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Set periodic goals.</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li>Rather than wait until December 31st to consolidate your progress, hold monthly (or bimonthly evaluations.</li><li>Set mini-goals that add up to a larger achievement.</li><li>The main idea to keep goals burning freshly in your mind.</li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">5. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Prepare for failure.</span></span></span></div><div><ul><li>Slip-ups are inevitable, but they don't signify defeat.</li><li>Analyze what went wrong and rectify your mistakes.</li><li>Never lose faith.</li></ul></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">6. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153);">Don't be afraid to dream big.</span></span></span><br /><ul><li>As long as a goal has been carefully identified, specified, and formulated, there is no justification in sticking with stunted, stodgy hopes. </li></ul></div></div><div>I fully intend to achieve my goals--because I have set myself up for success. So here's to a healthy, empowered year.<br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><br /></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC76LerUjegvytDs2lwFIzfQ3a-07nFc84xrnANUBFl9jSnQ73X-q1ogD6qWwRgPAoVy3VDTeeQjiM0kTcAztVdbn8t3u-V15XoVaM97VZK2Kkd5IMWIJp_70m50tlwM-TN4sZgX2iADg/s320/Picture+2.png" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286774362782284642" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 261px; " /></span></div><div> Sample Resolutions: notice the detail.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-76929230710982367402008-11-26T21:11:00.000-08:002009-01-17T10:18:56.958-08:00Update, 11/26In the online profile of an acquaintance of mine, whom we will call H, I stumbled across the following quotation:<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>"Drugs, alcohol, cigarettes-- it's my body. </div><div style="text-align: center;"> I can do whatever the hell I want...so f*** off."</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><b>Really...?</b> Other than the obvious implications of this statement, a more profound assertion is being brought to light:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"What's wrong? How many silly things can you find in this picture?"</i> the back cover of children's magazine <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Highlights</span> queries innocently, referring to drawings in which, perhaps a tree is upside down, or shoes placed upon the hands of an ingenuous youth with a baffled expression. Designed for young minds, the nonsensical discrepancies in the pictures are often quite obvious.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The problems in my friend's profile registered just as blatantly, but with a far more sinister undercurrent. Drugs, alcohol, tobacco-- what links them? They hint at a life lived on the edge, yes. They communicate a thrilling vein of subversiveness; after all, society dictates drug use as taboo, alcoholism is an issue that is rampant but suppressed, and tobacco smoking is a practice much frowned upon. Unfortunately, there is a valid supporting explanation concerning their illicit nature--each practice shatters the body, bringing it to <a href="http://www.reslife.okstate.edu/handbook/Abuse.pdf">crumbling ruin</a>.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Yet in her profile H conveys an understanding that narcotics can lead to disastrous effects; that she is willing to take the risk--because it is <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;">her own</span> body, and presumably is excited by the promise of a fleeting frisson of stimulation. She maintains that the responsibilities of any crushing consequences will be borne by herself only. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">However, in thinking such, H displays a naivete comparable to that of the cartoon-child on the back cover of <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Highlights</span>. Her actions would affect those close to her--friends, desensitized to its danger, might rush to experience the jolt of drugs or alcohol. Family and loved ones would inexorably be hurt by her decision of self-abuse--those who have supported her throughout her life, horrified and devastated by her choice. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So, in thinking that 1. it was acceptable to damage her health and self-worth and 2. that any harm would be shouldered by herself only, H is no different from the wide-eyed child who fails to realize nothing is askew with the picture.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-32907014525062749922008-06-29T08:58:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:20:34.796-08:00Update, 6/29One recent afternoon after disembarking the school bus from Leland (and consequently breaking free from the torrential screams and tortured wailing of first-graders that typify the 40 minute ride), I noticed a sight that piqued my interest. Beyond a low stone wall in the courtyard of the Cupertino library, a wildly curly head bobbed up and down rhythmically at a frantic pace. I could discern immediately that the untamed mane belonged to R.B.-- a bumbling, male middle-school student who nearly always arrives late in the mornings, panting as he struggles to board the bus before it departs. <div><br /></div><div>R's customary grunt upon hearing his name during roll call was mirrored repeatedly and vigorously. Upon leaning in closer, the source of his intensity became perspicuous. With eyes fixated on his hands, R engaged himself in devouring mouthfuls of hot dog at a speed closely associated with Takeru Kobayashi, six-time World Champion Speed Eater. No ordinary bread-encased sausage, this specimen was a dough-swathed behemoth. Mere seconds passed before R assimilated the final chunk and stumbled off to dispose of the wrapper.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Why did you eat that hot dog so rapidly?" I inquired rather intrusively as he returned. R blinked and made a guttural, inarticulate sound-- of a resonance that revealed he had just recovered from a fit of minor asphyxiation. "So quickly that you choked?" I added. </div><div><br /></div><div>R replied that he didn't know in a flat tone, his shifting gaze revealing a lack of interest in conversation. I pressed on relentlessly, insisting that he ought to eat less swiftly in the future--supporting my claim by telling him that gradual digestion would lead to greater enjoyment of the pinguid treat. R's eyes glazed over. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Well, when I eat something I like, the taste doesn't really matter," he attempted to clarify, though only muddying my perception of the matter. His explanation seemed vexingly counterintuitive. </div><div><br /></div><div>"But," I argued quite vehemently, "taste is the only reason you would even <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">enjoy</span> the hot dog..." Plainly exasperated with the tedium of our discussion, R shrugged and sauntered away. </div><div><br /></div><div>This exchange stayed with me the rest of the afternoon as I observed eaters (and children) from a seat outside the Coffee Society café. At one point the camp director made a rare visit, buying himself those paragons of sugary ruin-- a cookie and root beer ("What!? I like them!"). This blatant display of insalubrious behavior bothered me unduly, but even more aggravating was the fact that his eating paralleled R's almost exactly--the identical motions of shoveling food into the mouth, the indistinguishably glassy stares. Several minutes later, he too had finished (his period of ingestion was prolonged by the approach of several parents). </div><div><br /></div><div>Neither appeared to derive any enjoyment from the consumption of his adored foods; eating had become a habitual motion, almost unnoticed by the eater. Earlier this year, an assembly was presented at school: the dangers of using the internet as an escape for daily pressures. Similarly, R's long day of struggle with geometry and the camp director's stressful interactions with demanding parents and irksome staff must have created a need for a distraction, a diversion from the pressures of the day-- a need that was filled by comforting favorite foods.</div><div><br /></div><div>And yet, how much contentment did the hot dog, cookie, and root beer provide them? Most likely not enough, if their mechanical actions are any indication. Perhaps this justifies the abundance of overweight individuals who also have underlying emotional issues, the innumerable compulsive overeaters, the multitude of eating disorder sufferers-- instead of dealing with their difficulties head-on, they eat.</div><div><br /></div><div>Awareness is key.</div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-36963948964672943332008-06-22T08:30:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:21:21.633-08:00Update, 6/22The obvious imminence of two free days otherwise known as 'the weekend' not withstanding, what would elicit 1,300 primary-school aged persons to look forward to their first Friday upon the commencement of the 7th Annual Math Enrichment Summer Program? After all, there are six more weeks--out of the remaining six Fridays, one is designated as a movie outing; another, a full day of frolicking underneath the golden Californian sun at a theme park. Indeed, what could the contrasting stifling 95˚heat and oppressive air conditioning that defines Friday, June the 20th, 2008 possibly have to offer these fresh-faced, ebullient youths--? <div><br /></div><div>--an odorous (though not so far as miasmic) entity. A commodity that does not strain the wallets of parents (and camp directors) who already feel the pressure of soaring fuel and grain prices. It evokes a faint memory of foreignness, yet simultaneously projects a notion of homey familiarity- a slice of Americana. <br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Strong-smelling, economical, universal: pizza. Pizza: oleaginous, caloric, composed almost entirely of simple carbohydrates and saturated fats. It is clearly not fare for the health conscious; in other words, it is an 'artery clogger'. Though it provides little nutritional value, one triangle can contain upwards of 300 calories. </div><div><br /></div><div>The stuff of free Friday lunches, pizza assumes the role of a savior, providing a moment of bliss into which students can sink after a week of cramming dense mathematics into their brains. An intermittent occurrence, certainly; though pizza is available daily at the snack bar, most students do not make the choice to purchase the greasy goodness.</div><div><br /></div><div>A complaint may seem superfluous--to what purpose does it serve to make a case out the fact that once, just once, free pizza is generously distributed to hardworking juveniles? After all, a few hundred calories are not a crisis, considering a lifetime of consumption. Who am I to protest, anyway? I have most assuredly ingested my share of pizza. So it really is not so much the pizza that is the issue--that the kids are being presented with unhealthy sub-foods as a compensation, a reward for behaving well during the week is what is bothersome. Edibles, deleterious ones at that, are acting as a substitute for approval and love.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Growing up, Kathryn [Murphy, of the Biggest Loser, Season 2] was loved with food. 'In our family, food was very much connected to approval, comfort, happiness, and reward,' she recalled. She was a chubby kid, and her weight would eventually balloon to 217 pounds."</div><div><br /></div><div>Of course, a summer program is not instituted to dole out love and affection, but this idea may well implant itself into the as-of-yet impressionable minds of juvenescence. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just a thought.</div><div><br /></div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-50166933705079930052008-05-24T13:09:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:26:32.650-08:00Update, 5/24<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It conjures visions of tree-huggers and fruit sample trays at Whole Foods, of alternative cleaning products and recycled totes. What is this word? Organic. </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In the years of late, there has been a huge stir in the commercial world-- how can we, the public, control the manufacture and production of commodities that don't contribute to the progressively toxic state of our environment? Organic products--that is, matter grown, or fed '</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">without the use of (synthetic) pesticides, fungicides, or inorganic fertilizers, and prepared without the use of preservatives'</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">-- are becoming increasingly widespread as the population learns more about the malignant effects of chemicals in our water, land, and air.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Pesticide-free cucumber, $1.49. All-natural lotion, $40. Sustainable cotton tee, $18. Alternately: One gallon of regular unleaded gasoline, $4. A bushel of corn, $6. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">It adds up, especially in an uncertain economy. So we forgo the 'unnecessary luxuries'; the earth can wait a while, perhaps until the sluggish dollar regains some vivacity. Certainly, we don't </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">need </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">to eat an organic strawberry when a conventionally grown one results in less pocketbook pain. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Or do we? We need to evaluate: why do we want to help the environment? Earth isn't going anywhere; whatever damage, however heinous, we wreak on the landscape is not enough to wipe away the existence of a massive planet. But it </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">is</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> enough to efface humans from the face of the earth, to instigate the cellular and organ dysfunction that stems directly from pouring chemicals into the body. </span></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">In essence, by trying to help the biosphere, we are actually attempting to assure the continued quality of our own lives. It is a closed system; we cannot survive without helping the earth, and the earth will decay if we don't start to take care of it.</span></div><br /><a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/53548/organic_foods_on_a_budget.html=">Invest</a>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-88214654014084602502008-05-18T08:51:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:24:09.104-08:00Update, 5/18Swim season is over-- it ended yesterday with the annual BBQ, which entailed amazing burgers and numerous awards, gifts for coaches and farewells to seniors. A bittersweet ending as usual. I can honestly say that the amazing passion of our coaches and the incredible camaraderie of our team made life worthwhile the past three months. <div><br /></div><div>But as with all good television shows, swim season takes a yearlong hiatus. And with this newfound break come different responsibilities. Because of the rigorous daily practices, I dismissed the notion of watching my calorie consumption, assuming that whatever ghastly foods I absorbed would 'burn' themselves off. I let my mom go off on her weekly hikes alone, and said goodbye to the gym and park. </div><div><br /></div><div>No more. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Hello</span> FitDay (a calorie and nutrient counter), <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">hola</span> elliptical, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">adieu</span> rowing machine, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">zdravstvuite</span> daily trials and tribulations. I've returned to the real world, where calories don't vanish by themselves and muscles atrophy. </div><div><br /></div><div>As the homebound contestants of The Biggest Loser know, falling into old habits is effortless. But once they realize that they are worth it, they make the choice to set a path where it is more difficult to veer off-- by putting frozen yogurt in the freezer, and weighing themselves every week. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Willpower is overrated," Jillian Michaels declares, "you eliminate the need for it by destroying the temptation."</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div></div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-74601483513618196972008-05-08T15:08:00.000-07:002009-06-17T23:03:26.792-07:00Update, 5/8This morning, I woke up at 7:30 am, exactly 30 minutes before the start of first period: obscenely late. Blinking in a combination of confusion and dismay, I hit (end) repeatedly on my cell phone, convinced that I must have, in my stupor, pressed some wrong button. However, upon stumbling reluctantly from a warm haven of down and cotton into the cold, hard kitchen, I found that about 40 minutes time had indeed vanished!<div><br /></div><div>I had gone to bed approximately 35 minutes later than usual, around 11:38. This appears early, no doubt, considering that we, as participants in the modern rat-race, require extensive time and effort to achieve our numerous goals. It is not uncommon-- widespread, really-- at my school for students to sustain their studies and activities with fewer than 4 hours of sleep per night. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nightly, without fail, I obtain at least 7.5-8 hours of sleep. A dearth of rest never makes it easy for me to focus completely in my endeavors, either physical or mental. I am quite aware that it is obvious that not everyone necessitates the same number of hours; after all, many very successful people are refreshed and function well with fewer.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, it is not how many hours one gets that is important. We hopefully are already aware of the potential health effects sleep-deprivation can have (hormonal imbalances, mood shifts, etc.) through mass-media distribution, so that is not worth discussion. The real issue here is that the restless are not putting themselves as the highest priority. In order to achieve our objectives in life, we compromise our health-- eating on the run, skipping exercise, disregarding natural sleep patterns.</div><div><br /></div><div>We make excuses: "Oh, I'm putting myself on the back burner because I'm helping others." Unfortunately, to help others to the best of our ability, we ourselves first have to be fit physically and mentally.</div><div><div><br /></div></div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5200465958712546536.post-45691509269619897352008-04-26T14:09:00.000-07:002009-01-17T10:25:46.426-08:00Update, 4/26On Wednesday, April 30th, the annual WBAL and PSAL Championship Prelims will once again befall high school swimmers contained within these the South Bay private school leagues. For everyone on the team who has not yet qualified for CCS (Central Coast Section), this meet is crucial--it is not only the last all-inclusive meet of the season, but also the second-to-last chance to qualify.<div><br /></div><div>Clearly, the pressure is on. And as with any other high-pressure situation, astute high school students find ways to gain an edge through preparation (the SAT comes to mind). Upon reflection, it may actually be the coaches who are zealously monitoring the food and sleep intake of the athletes. </div><div><br /></div><div>"Avoid all fatty foods," "Get plenty of sleep starting a few weeks before," "Plenty of vegetables and fruit," Bart reminds us, insisting that these temporary lifestyle changes will provide increased vitality and stamina.</div><div><br /></div><div>It is this sound advice that all members of the team follow obediently as they bend over in the lunchroom to grab a banana, whilst sadly but willfully ignoring the titillating scent of the tray of curly fries. This small act of acesticism soon forgotten, the athletes (in the past) proceed to shave many seconds off their previous best times, and later reflect that eating well and sleeping are, in fact, advantageous. </div><div><br /></div><div>But after leagues, they restart pulling all-nighters and devouring pizza with ranch. After all, the goal has been achieved; the team has won. So they ask, "What's at stake now?" </div><div><br /></div><div>The answer? Your life.</div>tinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15909675091628569716noreply@blogger.com6