Eating to Run: One-derful, Wonderful Brownies

Healthy brownies? For those of us who love chocolate and who love sweets, this is a dream come true. I hesitate to post what seems like a product promotion, but on the other hand, one of the wonderful things about Weight Watchers is that we share discoveries and tips for menus, foods, and treats. And I'm glad to support positive entrepreneurs. So here goes.

I really respect folks whose business model is based on selling wholesome products that aren't poison. The folks at Vitalicious create snacks for people who care about what they eat. They are high in fiber, vitamins and nutrients. They aren't filled with chemicals and junk. And certainly no trans fats. I order the VitaTops (muffins) online by the case and freeze 'em.

I now enjoy their brownie baking mix. Its easy and ready in 25 minutes. I add some crushed pistachios to the top and I'm adding healthy fats and great taste. Best of all, each brownie, no kidding, is just one point (1 PT!) on Weight Watchers Flex Plan. I believe in spending my money to support decent small businesses rather than the corporate junk-marketers of "low fat" or "snack well" poison. So I order these products online from Greenwich Village-based Vitalicious and they show up at our front door ready to mix, freeze or serve.

As a runner and a mom, I'm loving that this Vitalicious Brownie Mix has added fun and fiber to our house. Best of all, they've passed the five-year-old-boy test. So enjoy! Eat healthy and love your brownies.

Layout Design (c) 2007 Ann Hetzel Gunkel / Photo: David Gunkel; Digital Supplies: Thao Cosgrove's Friendship Collection at Scrap Girls

Just Do It...The Fitness-Industrial Complex

Here's the deal: as a runner, I never have nor will I ever wear that corporate sports logo with the swoosh (TM) on my person. Their business practices, including marketing to the urban poor and using sweatshops around the globe, revolt me.

But their marketing has been brilliantly successful: it taps into our idiotic fascination with sports celebrities, our seemingly bottomless narcissism around self-transformation (just do it!), and our relentless passion for appearances. Let me be perfectly clear: You do not need to buy stuff to be a real runner. Your running does not need to expand the GNP.

What is wrong with this picture?: Middle aged yuppie-type walks out front door with siren on coffee cup sleeve, heads to SUV suitably dressed for an expedition to the Andes, and uses fossil fuels to journey to something called a "health club." I have lots of associates who really believe that the wrist curl performed while writing a check to that health club is getting them in shape. And trust me, its the only curl of any type they'll be doing for the next couple of months.

I am convinced that it is preferable to step out your front door, run, and be done. If you need an all-terrain vehicle, special gear, and a "club" to be healthy, something is amiss. I adore that my father-in-law began running decades ago (when it was only for "nuts") in his old basketball hi-tops and some beat up clothes. He could care less about gear. And by the way, all these years later, he's still fit as a (non-logoed) fiddle.

Having said that, I wouldn't encourage you to run without good shoes and a wicking t-shirt. Running in your old cotton t-shirt is cost effective, but uncomfortable. And you will stink. A wicking t-shirt, some basic "breathable" running pants or shorts, and shoes that fit are good tools to have. I use 'em and I like 'em. But I won't wear a swoosh. And my healthy pursuits aren't about to fuel the fitness-industrial complex.

It's Freiburg Weather...

It's Freiburg Weather. That's shorthand in our house for "Ann is going to hate this." When I awaken to hear my husband say, "It's Freiburg Weather," this means my run will suck and I will loathe the day I decided to take up running. Well...a little.

Let me backtrack. Somewhere around fifteen years ago, my husband and I found ourselves living in Freiburg, Germany when we received postgraduate Fulbright and DAAD Fellowships. This is a big deal for philosophy types. Freiburg is the place where Husserl "invented" phenomenology and Heidegger, perhaps the most important Continental philosopher of the 20 th century, wrote and taught. Anyhow...we found ourselves living in an attic apartment in "die Wiehre," a district that wanders right into the paths and foothills of the Black Forest.

The Schwarzwald has a distinctive microclimate: mountain-y, humid, foggy and damp. No matter what the weather, your best clothes are always slightly sweaty. It's like dropping Seattle into a German forest. I hated that climate--I was sick most of the time (and learned lots of medical terms in German.) Nonetheless, we spent lots of time climbing and hiking in the Schwartzwald out our front door. Lots of those journeys were hell on earth for my humidity-hating Slavic constitution.

But sometimes, the hell miraculously gave way to wondrous surprises: a magical vista, the transformative power of pine scent from the damp forest floor, a moment of sunny clarity, or just plain relief that the journey was over. One of those surprises followed a long, wandering climb where I sort of lost my bearings. After hours of crankiness (definitely up there on the "for better or worse" list my husband has endured), we stumbled upon a lush green clearing dotted by a lone grazing cow (complete with picture-book bell clanking around her neck). At the edge of the clearing, like an apparition, was a tiny ramshackle wooden cabin. From it, emanated the most amazing smell. In this tiny shack in the middle of nowhere, Schwarzwalders were cooking up sublime Pfannkuchen--giant cast-iron pancakes filled with apples and dusted with powdered sugar. Oh my god, that was a nice moment.

So when I awaken and I hear, "It's Frieburg weather," I sigh, put on my running shoes anyway and hope for the best. You never know when a pancake-filled apparition will be waiting around the corner.

NSV - Episode 2: Cheering Section

Some days when you least expect it, you will find that total strangers will cheer you on your running journey. These are some of the most delightful--perhaps because completely unexpected--Non Scale Victories.

One miserable morning, after a winter ice storm, I was out running, bundled up in four layers of polar fleece, following the only tolerable path I could find--the trail left by Chicago snowplows and salt trucks down the middle of my neighborhood streets. Parents were sliding along the thin covering of ice as they whisked kids off to school. Suddenly a crossing guard moved a barrier out of my way cheering, "God Bless you! Good for you! Go for it!" I suddenly felt a surge of energy.

Two blocks later, a mom was pulling her kids in a wagon inching down the slippery Chicago sidewalks. I'd never seen her before in my life, but she obviously lived somewhere on my running route. She yelled to me, "I've been watching you run since last year. You look fantastic!"
[I'm vain enough that the possibly creepy aspect of I"ve been watching you" left me unphased.] Wow! Now I was on fire.

These unexpected moments of encouragement and praise are a real reward for dedication to one's daily run. All of sudden, a middle-aged mom feels like an Olympian at the finish line. Complete strangers reach out to congratulate, encourage and boost my spirits.

That winter morning, following a nasty Chicago ice storm, I ran my first 8k ever. And I'm sure what put me over the top was the surge of energy from folks I don't even know by name. Thanks to each of them, wherever they are.

Running to Eat: St. Joseph's Day Zeppole

One of the best things about running and healthy eating is that celebrations are not about deprivation. This week our family celebrated St. Joseph's Day in a big way as Italo-Americans and Polish-Americans in Chicago tend to do. (We belong to the latter group.) Let's face it, how cool is it when there is a patron saint of pastry chefs? Really cool!

This meant a giant St. Joseph's Day Table (a large public feast), repeated consumption of spectacular Zeppole (amazing Sicilian St. Joseph's Day pastries), and much merriment. Such lively excess might have once spawned feeling of guilt for me. But now, oddly, its quite the opposite. As my WW leader says, I don't let a lapse become a collapse. That frees me up to really enjoy special events--because they aren't a landslide into dietary hell. They're just celebrations. No more and no less. They don't carry moral weight, they're not a test of my willpower or character, and they don't have to loom large on my worry-horizon. And when they're over they're over. So, as Chicago polka legend, the late Lil' Wally used to say, "Live it up!"

If you want to know more about how cool St. Joseph's Day is in Chicago, visit my Polish Traditions website or check me out in the Chicago Sun Times.

Tips For Special Events:

1. Don't go to the party ravenous. (An apple or high fiber snack beforehand helps.)

2. Always, ALWAYS keep track of your POINTS (TM). They keep you accountable. Is a zeppole worth an extra 6k run? The answer to me is, Yes!

3. Have a plan. Think about what you really want to enjoy. Don't miss out on what's special, but always ask "Is this item really worth it to me?" If it's not, skip it for the good stuff! I plan and write out my points before parties, special events and restraurants, finding that a plan really makes a big difference. If I graze or "wing it," things don't go nearly so well.

4. Remember, this is not about dieting. Dieting is evil. Enjoy your life on St. Joseph's Day and every day. Viva San Giuseppe!

NSV - Episode 1: With this ring...

At Weight Watchers, there is an adage that one must celebrate the Non Scale Victories (NSV). This really is an important idea because obsession with the scale will make you miserable and set you up for failure. In short, the scale cannot be controlled but your behaviors can. Moreover, if it's only about the scale, you miss the whole point of a healthy lifestyle.

Today's NSV: This week the magntitude of my accumulated weight loss hit me in a strange moment. I was talking a mile and minute and gesturing wildly (in short, a normal moment for me) when suddenly my wedding ring flew right off my hand, sailing across the room. I found myself at the jeweler admitting that I couldn't put off these sorts of adjustments to my new body. Right now that ring is at the shop, being resized. Its the first time in seventeen (17!) years that I've been without that ring for even a minute, let alone days. It feels strange, to be sure. But it's a lovely reminder of how far I've come. And yes, I'm much smaller than I was even on my wedding day almost seventeen years ago.

And my husband, not a jealous sort at all, suddenly wondered if it was a good idea for me to be on the town, looking hot without a wedding ring on....God Bless Non Scale Victories!

Welcome

I want to welcome some new readers--all my pals from Weight Watchers, especially our fearless leader, Peter. If you're new to this Blog, please start at the first posts and go backwards from there:

Introducing On Beyond Running

Becoming a "Real" Runner

Thanks for visting ON BEYOND RUNNING.

Ashes to Ashes....Eat my Dust

What an amazing symbol of middle-class childhood in the 1960's: the Brownie Scout ashtray lovingly crafted for my dad. Wow! What were they thinking?

All it took was a treasured photo, glass ashtray, some glue and some felt. Viola! A coffee-table symbol of childlike fidelity and adoration reminding the parental unit to think of me every time he lights up another Winston. Stunning. My mom found that trinket just the other other day, some 35 years later. And I've been looking at it in shock ever since.

But, mostly I've been feeling sad for the Brownie in the photo, staring back at me mutely from the bottom of the ashtray. She's so smart and sweet. And already so chubby way back in 1969. She doesn't have a clue that 40 years of plus sizes and the Big Girl Shop are coming her way. What a bummer.

I come from immigrant stock. That generation of caregivers thought they were giving us the American dream when they gave us unlimited access to soda pop, HoHos, twinkies and chips. Parental love American-style meant shoestring potatoes and trips to the Red Barn on Harlem Avenue. I didn't learn about mindful eating, whole foods or anything of the sort. And pretty soon I was whisked away from the super groovy Lemon Frog shop at the Six Corners Sears in Chicago straight over to the Chubby girls section. Pretty soon, there would be the abject terror of my total inability to perform the dreaded "flexed arm hang" in the President's Physical Fitness Challenge. (Remember those?)

I feel sad for that Brownie Scout Ann Marie--she had a lot of shit coming her way and she didn't have a clue. But I also feel glad for her. Because now that she's not chubby anymore, that girl in the ashtray can say eat my dust.

Newbie Notes for the Beginning Runner

If you're reading this and thinking about hitting the road as a runner, these are some beginner's tips I've learned through experience.

1. See your doctor first. Its safer, smarter and a good thing to do. I have a series of standing appointments with my physician to hold me accountable for my lifestyle changes and to touch base. When you see your BP, resting heart rate and cholesterol numbers become amazing, you'll be thrilled. It really works. Plus, she gives me a sticker for being good and I feel like my five year old son!

2. Consider doing this is conjunction with nutritional goals. My Weight Watchers meeting is filled with runners who swear that joining WW made a huge difference in their athletic performance. I concur. Oh, and one of those nutritional changes that counts is drink a lot of water. What corporations now call "hydrating," we used to call "drinking." Whatever you call it, it's important to do if you're working out.

3. Don't be a moron and go out there thinking you're the next Bruce Jenner or FloJo Joiner. You're not. You're never going to be. Running farther and faster than ever before on day one is a big mistake. You'll burn out, hate running, become injured and the whole she-bang will be over. For lots of us, going for a 12 minute jog is a good starting point. Its how I started. And for me it was more than hard enough. What you'll find is that 12 become 15 and 15 become 17.....Pretty soon a 5K is no big deal. But that takes time. Patience, grasshopper.

4. Don't be afraid to walk. Lots of runners have a macho thing about toughing it out. I personally am not a big walker. But lots of folks find that walking when you can no longer run and then running again is a great way to make it work. It's still exercise and it still "counts."

5. Do NOT use weather as an excuse. I live in Chicago. I run year round. If my husband (who runs daily) and I can both run year-round, so can you. If its winter, wear 4 layers of clothes. You'll be fine. My best run this winter was the 8k I did the morning after an ice storm.

5. Do NOT use your mood as an excuse. There are lots of ways to blow off a fitness plan. Indeed, the number of ways is infinite. Here's the deal: You lay down the law that fitness is non-negotiable and that's the end of the discussion. I schedule my runs in my palm pilot--they are as important as dentist visits, meetings at work, and everything else I manage to do. That's the deal. If you wait til you're "in the mood," you'll be waiting til the cows come home. Just lace up your shoes and go out the frackin' front door. If you're really filled with dread, make yourself a deal: "I'm going to run for five minutes. If I still hate it today, I will stop after five minutes." You know what, once you're out there, you'll find yourself adding five more "as long I'm out here anyway." And pretty soon the run is done.

Runner's Axiom # 1

If you join me in that strange shift from "person who hates to run" to "person who has to run," you will notice some odd axioms emerge from your experience.

Runner's Axiom #1:

The more you run, the more you run. Tautology is supposed to be avoided, I know. But this one is true. The more you run, the more you need to run. The more you run, the more you want to run. The more you run, the more you love to run. Partly, your body just gets better at this thing and you need more distance, speed or what-have-you to push the limits. I think this is part of the addictive quality that attracts so many Type A personalities to our activity. This one will sneak up on on you, but some day it will simply be a self evident truth. That's the day you will have morphed from person who hates to run to person who has to run.

The [Meta]physics of Running

Philosopher-types tend to love running. That includes me. But it's not for reasons you might suspect. Every new-age pseudo-spiritual theory about the zen of running is a ruse. Running will not give you anything like a nirvanic escape of selfhood. Running is not The Secret, a pseudo-spiritual capital-hugging panacea for the anxieties of modernity.

In fact, running is deliriously brutal most of the time. (If Sade were around, he'd have dumped the dungeon for the track long ago.) Most days, running smacks you square in the jaw with lots of self truths you'd rather not think about. (Like the amount of chateubriand and bags of chips you've actually consumed over the past twenty odd years. Like just how slow you actually are.)

Running is a philosophical pastime. You want Heideggerian Dasein ["authentic being there"]? The minute you hate that first half-mile, you'll be forced to confront the taunts of Das Man. Trust me.

You want phenomenological analysis? Running is a bodily experiment in Husserlian consciousness, messing with time as protention and retention, every step protends the next footfall and retends the last. Its like living suspended at the instant where the illusion of time grabs us....Somehow if I just keep going, maybe a little farther, I'll get to peep around the corner where space/time bends. Or.....maybe not.

Its no accident that physics is all about the laws of motion. For those of us cultural theorists who find Foucault fun and quantum mechanics sexy, running is a playground for postmodern post-subjectivity. And don't let the granola-humanist types tell you otherwise.

In Praise of Spring-like Chicago

I post this entry, Five Degrees of Separation (from January 07) by way of celebrating today's run: what might be called my first Springtime jaunt after a long winter of chilly workouts.

"In six months, I've really become dedicated to my fitness commitment. How do I know? Simple: five degrees of separation. Five degrees Fahrenheit is what separates me from an outdoor workout. That’s my rule. If it’s below 5 F, I do a 60 minute workout tape indoors. the rest of the time? Rain, sleet, snow, cold-- I'm out there, running a 5k. that’s a level of dedication I'm proud of."

Photo/Layout Design © 2007 Ann Hetzel Gunkel; Software: Adobe Photoshop; Papers & Embellishments by Thao Cosgrove at www.ScrapGirls.com

Eating to Run / Running to Eat

I love food. Everything about food. Its my favorite topic of conversation, favorite past time and even a favorite subject for scholarship. My best meals are accompanied by plans for the next meal or memories of past meals. I do not plan to jettison that love. Nor do I need to.

Here's the difference between loving food and mindlessly eating. (More or less the difference between the evil macho-industrial diet complex and a healthy change like Weight Watchers):

On a diet, you wake up and think, "Everything I manage NOT to eat today will get me to my goal." It's a disciplinary practice of self-deprivation. Its a goal charted around a negative space--what I DON'T eat. Before you've even stepped out of bed, you're doomed.

When you love food, you wake up and think, "Everything I WILL eat today will get me to my goal." Its about the energy of choosing well and loving food. About choosing well to fuel my runs. Its a goal charted around positive space--the geography of cuisine, the joy of what I DO eat. Before you even step out of bed, you've succeeded.

I learned from feminism ages ago that diets are evil. They are sexist disciplinary practices that create self-policing, self-hating docile bodies--aimed at making women, in particular, take up less cultural space (literally and metaphorically.) I don't do diets. That's why I've really found Weight Watchers to be an interesting experience. Its not a diet. Its a lifestyle. And its no accident that my foray into running coincides with that change.

Now I eat to run and run to eat. I don't run from eating.

I can't tell you what a difference this makes.

Becoming a "Real" Runner

The real change that matters when becoming a runner is your self-perception. In the end, how fast or how far you run are really and truly irrelevant. What matters is that you run. If you run, you are a runner. A real runner. It took me almost two years to figure out this simple fact. John "The Penguin" Bingham described my former self (and my first 5K race) with frightening accuracy,

For a long time I was embarrassed to be standing in a group of runners with a number pinned to my chest. How presumptuous, I thought, that I should try to join in. How outrageous of me to think that I, a waddling middle-aged [wo]man, could be one of them.

I remember standing at the starting line--no, actually standing well away from the starting line--when the nervous energy began to build at one race. I found myself trying to hide in the crowd, afraid that the race director would spot me, the imposter, and ask me to leave. "Hey you!" he calls out in my nightmare. "What are you doing here? This is a race for real runners."

It never happened, of course. [124, The Courage to Start, John Bingham, 1999, Simon & Shuster]

Now that I've learned my metaphysical lesson about the runner's reality principle it all seems so obvious. I spent hours of anxiety and hours of wasted effort worrying about being "found out." I was worried that the chubby mom on the block would look like a loser running through the neighborhood each day. I was afraid that someone would spot the poseur who had the audacity to pretend she was a real athlete. "Real runners" were those emaciated types with short shorts--a body type and mindset (I thought) that left me out.

But one day I figured it out--somewhere between my second 5K and my daily run in subzero Chicago winter. A real runner is someone who puts one foot in front of the other. And runs. Not as fast as an Olympian. Not as far as a marathon winner. But as fast and as far as she can. And that's more than enough. That's a real runner.

Introducing On Beyond Running

I'm your worst nightmare: a fitness convert. That's me, the buzzkill ex-smoker in a crowd that is metaphorically lighting up. This is the how-to and highlights of one middle-aged mom's conversion from couch potato to runner, from Cool Whip to Cool Max. For how and why I did it (and why you might want to try, too)...keep reading.

In two years I went from couch potato to runner. Not exactly a speedy transition, but patience is just one of the lessons I've learned from the running life. For the first year and a half, I ran about 1 mile a day, three days a week. Let me be perfectly clear: I hated it. Every second of it. All the time. Each time out, I waited hopelessly to improve and each time out, I thought I was going to die.

And then a few things changed...One, I decided to make health and fitness a priority. This coincided with my mid-forties and the realization that neither my health nor my fitness were particularly good. Two, I saw my physician (she runs too!) and decided to join Weight Watchers against my (supposedly) better judgment. That was a great move. When I started to consider the whole package: food, health, and fitness, stuff started to happen. I started to improve. I started to get faster and run longer. I moved from running pants marked with a double digit followed by a W (semiotic code for fat lady) to single digit jeans. I started to run races. I started to like it. In short, I became a runner.


"THE DISCLAIMER" I am not a physician, nor do I play one on TV. I have no expertise in health or fitness save my own experience. If you are looking to me for medical advice, get your head examined. But better yet, if you want to start running, do what I did--see your doctor. I owe endless thanks to our family physician, Dr. Jane Bang, M.D. who set me on this path.