Jack and Jill Found a Beach Body of Water

Fitness centers, no matter how decrepit, leave me with nostalgia. Even the creepily empty Salus Center facility at Saint Louis U filled with cardio machines circa 1999, depressing lighting, and poor ventiliation-actually it’s more like working out in a sauna or steam room when I’m done with it-is still filled with fond memories of 6:00am workouts. 

I suppose it’s the association between endorphins/self confidence that creates that link between nostaligia and the facility. It’s the escape on that stationary bike before my hectic day. It’s the memory of a side by side elliptical conversation about pursing dietetics after high school. It’s the hilarious weight lifting routines with a friend who has since moved away. It’s feeling energized, happy, & healthy. 

It’s also a good thing. 
Considering the time of year. This kind of craving is much healthier.

I crave my home gym. My first gym membership. During my “winter vacations” (this may be my last…) I can’t wait to get at my father’s guest passes…at least after the holiday food bonanza and before the crazy New Year resolution crowd. During this break I stepped on the machine and the movie Knocked Up was staring back at me. 

Machines these days with their personal TVs. God, what I really need is a personal fan. And not like the cheerleaders-although that wouldn’t hurt either at this time of year. 

Of course the iPod was dead. It was feeling as holiday sluggish as the rest of us. So I had to plug my new Christmas present headphones into that personal machine TV. 

The Scene Went Like This:

Jack: ...there's gonna be some things that you are going to be able to get, that other people in the office don't get... one of them: Gym membership.
Alison Scott: You want me to lose weight?
Jack: [laughing] No, I don't want you to lose weight!
Jill: No, uh, we can't legally ask you to do that.
Jack: We didn't say lose weight... I might say tighten.
Alison Scott: Tight?
Jack: Tighter.
Jill: Just liked toned and smaller.
Jack: Don't make everything smaller, I don't wanna generalize that way... tighter.
Jill: We don't want you to lose weight, we just want you to be healthy. Y'know, by eating less.
Alison Scott: OK.
Jill: We would just like it if you go home and step on the scale, and write down how much you weigh, and subtract it by like, 20.
Alison Scott: 20.
Jill: And then weigh that much. 

 

It made me laugh aloud. Like one of those crazy “I can’t tell how hard I’m laughing because I’m wearing headphones in my own world” kind of laughs. The “Jill” character was spot on, hilarious.

A someone decided to book a trip to the Bahamas in January. It was between January 5^th and January 20^th. The thought of “baring all” by January 5th gave me a Jill in my head[phones]. Ok, more like a Jack. Tighter. And “tighter” wasn’t going to be possible by the 5^th…who am I kidding. Did you read my leggings blog? They finally got washed after like 14 days of wearing.

Game plan?  More protein and less starch to shed some of that water before I hit the water. I’m thinking more yogurt, cottage cheese, beans, turkey, veggies & hummus and less foods like I’ve been eating. And more of those nostalgic gym moments.  Which don’t always seem AS nostalgic at the moment. But I think I’ll reflect fondly on them while lying on a beach in January with a drink in my hand and a someone’s hand in my other hand and a song in my headphones. And hopefully no Jacks or Jills in my head[phones] because of meeting all of my healthy behavior goals. 

And maybe I can make the running in the sand and swimming in the water my new nostalgia.

Rule #1: Tis the Season to Enjoy

Throughout undergrad people often thought I looked well put together for classes.

Figure 1:The Put Togetherness Scale

Not put together ----Fairly put together---Somewhat put together----Well put together

Wearing jeans earned you a “well put together” even if you had greasy hair and toothpicks holding up your 2-day-old, mascara-ed eyelids. I liked wearing jeans. I felt more productive, awake and anti-button busted controlled. I didn’t realize that washing my sole pair of jeans like once every week and a half didn’t account for the anti-fabric stretch to accommodate food babies, control.

Before returning home for the holidays I bought a fabulous pair of corduroy leggings inspired by my incredibly fashionable friend.  I soon realized that these tight legged pants were really just faux restricting tights. I have been wearing (sans washing) them all break. (Break constitutes as 4 days-ew, I know).

Somewhere in my jean wearing rule (#22), leggings became acceptable. It’s a slippery slope from leggings to consuming 2 snicker doodles, 2 chocolate chip cookies, 1 chocolate drenched pistachio biscotti, 1 peppermint bark, 2 peanut butter kiss cookies, and 2 glasses of red wine. Oh! and 3 like almond-y cake square things. So good. The food, not the baby.

I don’t actually have rules. I have general checks and balances that keep me in line, or buttoned-in, and feeling good. My general rule right now is enjoy, stay active, enjoy, wear leggings…temporarily.

Others have food rules that put my “togetherness” scale to shame.

Figure 2: Standard Holiday Food Rules List

1. If the pan of brownies wasn’t cut evenly, evening it out for Gram [by eating] is the right thing to do.

2. If peppermint is good for digestion than 20 candy canes must be great after our deep fried turkey Christmas dinner!

3. If it’s green it must be healthy! That goes for those Mint Melt-Aways. Well, only like 50% of the chocolate box, duh.

.

.

8. If it doesn’t all fit in this Tupperware, well, there wouldn’t be enough room in the fridge or the ice-box cold garage to store more food. I guess I’ll just have to store some in my stomach..?

.

.

14. I have to eat Santa’s cookies! What if, what if…he can’t fit down the other chimneys because he had so many cookies to eat! I’d be doing him a favor.

15. A Yule Log must have lots of fiber.

.

.

182. Eggnog helps build muscles. That’s what they say.

 .

My holiday party rule is actually more along the lines of: buy a super swanky, new clutch that requires a hand (not an armpit) and occupy the other hand with some fantastic red wine allowing nil a hand for a Christmas cookie let alone 2 snicker doodles, 2 chocolate chip cookies, 1 chocolate drenched pistachio biscotti, 1 peppermint bark, 2 peanut butter kiss cookies, dot, dot, dot.

But apparently I’m a little guilty of breaking my rules. And rightfully so. Some rules are meant to be [legging] stretched around the holidays. My real rule is after all the baked-goods-gift-giving and holiday parties subside, start wearing clean jeans, again. AND be grateful that so many people love me enough to share their treats and parties with me. 

After the season, my “well put togetherness” will look just like it did in undergrad, [holiday] haggard and stuffed into jeans. 

The Icing at the Top

Vs.

Prospective Career Choices

Meg Murphy, NCHS Student

1. Occupational therapy

2. Nutrition

3. Art therapy

4. Interior design

 ...I guess ‘art therapy’ was the icy, or iced, bridge between nutrition and HGTV. 

These occupation selections used to seem so random to me. Looking at the list now, it makes a bit more sense: service, home, & creativity. They go together more than I thought.  

Cooking and food art is like Home and [vegetable] Garden meets the Food Network meets the RD. As a kid, the idea of putting together a gingerbread house was like a sugar high without even eating any of it. Possibly the best distraction for my parents, ever. Same goes for dying Easter eggs and carving pumpkins without the supervision necessary to avoid staining the kitchen or cutting off my finger.

All I needed was the blank gingerbread canvases and I was completely focused for hours. Maybe it was my "art therapy." 

I didn't completely write off the igloo either. I spent all day with my brother and neighbor creating the most elaborate icy fortress complete with nicely crafted "snow chairs" perfect for sitting and enjoying some hot chocolate.

I got a “taste” of the igloo again today. It confirmed that gingerbread house trumps igloo. And ice trumps active, sober 24 year old in gym shoes. 

When I walked out of my apartment at 4:45am to do data collection on one of my thesis participants equipped with backpack, exercise bag, lunch bag, and box full of chocolates and wine for friends and professors I realized that the Igloo was, in fact, St. Louis.

ICE! Everywhere.

A slide turned slip turned spill left me half way down the steps. It was the fall seen in Home Alone when Kevin McAlister prepped the concrete steps with the garden hose for the “Wet Bandits”-more like ice bandits.
Too late to do anything, hands full of stuff, I went down. Good thing a bottle of red broke my fall!!! ...That was the icing on top of the 5-step, I mean -tiered cake.

Tired, sore, and smelling of booze can really give people the wrong impression of how you’re handling the holiday season. Smelling of wine at 4:50am is only acceptable if one is at a holiday party, decorating gingerbread houses, intensely, until 2am like my dear friend Melissa.  

(Correction it wasn’t gingerbread houses…it was gingerbread villages. That would have given my parents freedom for years).

Walking into my now, chosen profession’s department reeking of wine, I realized what I should have put on my list of “prospective career choices” ... massage therapy.

Do you "C" the Difference?

“I eat well. What are you asking? About my diet? Ohh, well I’m not on a diet. I mean, I’m not trying to lose weight. I know I should be walking more. I used to do diets. I eat vegetables. I don’t have much of an appetite so I don’t overeat, ya know?” states the 80 year old patient without any major past medical history.

There’s this funny misconception that a “diet” is what people know of as a “fad diet” or a “diet that results in weight loss.” There is also the misconception that “diet” is something that has a definite time limit and that is strictly based on nutrition. I believe that “one year older and one year wiser” claim, partly because that’s the direction I’m headed and I need for it to be true, but really because my 80 year old patients typically know more about what a dietitian is and does than do my peers. Well, my 80 year olds with significant past medical histories, that is. Precisely the reason why I immediately knew my patient hadn’t spent much time in a gown with a call button. 

I’m not exactly sure when the word “diet” became the connotation it is today. There are indeed weight loss diets but there are also consistent carbohydrate diets, low sodium diets, high protein/high calorie diets, pureed diets, celiac diets, renal diets, post-gastrointestinal-surgery liquid diets-not to be confused with the water-lemon-syrup-cayenne-concoction-“detox”-disaster diet that causes slight euphoria due to drops in blood sugar with the extra bonus of lean body mass loss…

This doesn’t even touch on calorie needs, food preferences, access to food, cooking ability, hand–to-mouth coordination, chewing and swallowing issues, etcetera. So where “diet” became “A diet” is unbeknown to me.

And to be honest, makes it very difficult for me to explain what a “dietitian” actually does to a person without past medical history or understanding of healthcare. I mean the first three letters spell “die”…a major turn off. And the first four letters are sometimes heard as a “you think you’re better than me?” Let alone the fact that every other allied health field uses the word “therapy” after their profession: respiratory therapy, physical therapy, occupational therapy, speech therapy…dietitian?

Maybe if it were “nutrition therapy” people wouldn’t assume “diet” as “A diet” and we could skip over the whole, “I know my hospital badge says “dietician” but it’s actually, officially spelled “dietitian” by the dietetics professionals” situation. I mean, hospitals, which are required by law to staff dietitans, can’t even get the spelling of my profession [w]right, how can I expect the public to understand what it is I am?

• It's correctly spelled dietiTian because it is the practice of dieteTics, likewise, a physiCian is the practice of physiC, or the art of healing.

One major problem is that the word “nutritionist” isn’t even a credible title, however; it is far more recognized by the public than “dietitian.” A dietitian must complete a 4 year undergraduate degree in nutrition, be matched to an American Dietetic Association accredited internship (comparable to a residency), and sit for the Registered Dietitian Board Examination while a “nutritionist” can be Joe Shmo who took one nutrition class online from Jane Doe “the Nutritionist”. 

My food science class’ final project was to develop a new or alternative food product to meet consumers’ needs and acceptance. Usually students create products for the heart healthy and diabetic population by finding ways to reduce calories and sugar. Every project done this year was exceptional but the one that tickled me most was the quick bread product. The type of fat used in the bread was altered to enhance fat absorption meeting the needs of cystic fibrosis patients. I can’t say the general public, who came to taste-test and evaluate the acceptability of the products, were as happy with this particular development as I was considering some may have been under the impression that they were taste testing food from “A diet”itian student.   

Political Dirt

There was a political WWF (WWE these days?) smack-down on the Laura Ingraham Radio Show regarding childhood obesity. “Smack-down” may not be the correct term considering only one person was doing the quote on quote smack-talk but, none the less, this is politics and that’s how smack-downs are done.

The opponent wasn’t there to defend herself, most likely because she was on the move.

Politicians may not understand health, rightfully so, they studied politics, but one thing I am sure of is that they know money. Or at least know how to manage it. Let’s ignore the fact that Dr. U. S. America has done some serious overdraft spending lately.

Did you like how politically correct that was not to assign a gender to America? And I made America look smart! (2 smackdown points for Murph). 

America spent $147 billion last year on obesity related illness according to the U.S. government. Obese Americans spent 42 percent more per year for medical care than non-obese. 

Let’s break it [smack]down further. There are direct and indirect costs.

• Direct: hospitalization, medication by weight dosages, DM2, HTN, CAD, CHF, ESKD, OA?, the abbreviations could keep flowing.

• Indirect: low productivity due to sick days from work because of an obesity related abbreviation and larger cars to seat larger people so they can drive through the drive thru. I meant to say more accommodating wheelchairs in the hospital and back pain medication for the nursing staff. 
  

Or, you  know, paying shipping costs of pants ordered over the internet because sizes in the store aren’t what they used to be. I’m just saying. Just saying, it’s enabling. 

At Saint Louis University, I had the opportunity to help the H.E.L.P. Grant. The Healthy Eating with Local Produce Grant buys local, sustainable food from Missouri farmers and processes it to serve lunch at inner city schools. Vegetable gardens, set up at these schools, teach students about healthy, sustainable practices and nutrition educations from dietetic interns top it all off! It literally helps children get back to their “roots” while emphasizing nutrition, activity and sustainability. 

And speaking of sustainability, maybe Dr. America wouldn’t be doing so much over-drafting if we were buying from ourselves. And maybe we would have better nutrition education programs and healthier school lunch programs if we saved some money for ourselves and had it to spend on some glossy, new textbooks.We could make Dr. America smarter yet!

…But America just has to be the popular country at the lunch table. 

And, unfortunately, sometimes there are bullies at the lunch table. “Take her anti-obesity thing that she is on. She is on this kick, right. What she is telling us is she cannot trust parents to make decisions for their own children, for their own families in what we should eat,” ...says the 46 year old grandma. 

Ding, Ding. Zing.  

I wash my hands of any political "dirt"

Vegetarian Turkey

Gobble Gobble

Maybe not the healthiest, non-processed choice but seriously how cute are these? 

And totally vegetarian friendly for those friends you are thankful for.

Britain: Losing Pounds=Gaining Pounds

The other morning I woke up to an NPR British correspondent talking about an “old, rotund contestant” on Strictly Come Dancing. I’m convinced that every popular US show (Dancing with the stars) is really just a glamorized version of some existing British show. I can say this with some certainty having lived in England for five months, obsessing over “Deal or No Deal,” and returning to the states to see how we managed to screw up our version. 

It goes something like this:

Common, compassionate British people in all of their unabashed rawness holding shoeboxes,

To…

Sequenced, spray tanned, plastic surgery patched up models holding leather, black brief cases. 

(At the round table on the 98^th floor: “…I’m picturing models! And they’ll all be blinding the audience with the sparkles form their teeth, eyes, outfits, and coins in those brief cases! Can’t you see it now?! It will be a great success! What do you say American Network? Do we have a Deal…or no deal?)

All of the character got sucked out of the show. The whole point I enjoyed the show. To see these drab-wearing British contestants show up day after day, patiently waiting for the random selection of their name so they could quit their box holding position for the chance to win 250,000 pounds was pure joy. I felt like I knew these people. Like they were my neighbors. Like we could have gone for a pint together.

Britain was the only place I managed to lose a lot of pounds while gaining a lot of pounds (it’s called the price of a pint…on both ends). But something about that culture made it easy for me to do so. No, not the giving away money, although that is easier after pints. And I can’t blame it on the lowered drinking age because, well, I can honestly say that the US college system has their own drinking age.

No, it was the judgment-free people and absence of stress accrued from un-attainability. I didn’t feel like I had to be tan, sparkly, or slightly augmented to have fun and feel good. Pretty British people conversed with British people. I mean…

And the interesting thing is that I never saw one obese British person. Nor did I see many, if any, obese people in Europe while I traveled (unless they were looking at a tour guide book on the euro rail wearing a Cowboys cap).  

Maybe it’s their good genes? Maybe it’s their use of public transportation and more physical activity? Maybe it’s their energy conservation frugality and refusal of centralized heating (or any heating) that cause an increased shiver/fidget factor? Maybe it was my “pint” goggles..?

Or maybe it was their lower level of judgment and stress?

 Yes this want-to-be-dancer is overweight but using the word “rotund” to describe her wasn’t even on the American “Rotund-ness” Scale. And if this 63 year old former British government minister exudes body confidence while being physically active, than she most likely has a better health status than the Americans who engage in harmful behaviors to remain stick thin under pressure or who use food as a coping mechanism under stress.

Maybe it was the lack of American picturesque perfectionist to match or the lack of a full length mirror that decreased my stress in England. Either way, I felt happy. Yes, I was a bit heavier but not unhealthily so. And happiness is health. Who knows, maybe if I had bought that mirror I would have changed my “view” point even if I was in Britain amongst British and their mentality. But after my enlightenment I have gained my own confidence, health, and happiness since returning.

Thanks for Giving me a Great Day

It was chilly in Saint Louis on Saturday. It dropped from upper 70s to lower 40s within two days. A real whip in the face to Matt, visiting from Chicago, who believed that “Saint Louis never got cold!” and had previously claimed never to believe my packing suggestions again.

Well it’s about time Saint Louis! The weather, as well as the visitor, reminded me of home. Of the windy city. Of the Murphs. It also caused my desire to grab coffee at a café, see a matinee, and sip on a glass of wine by a fire. So we did. 

The weather, like holidays, has this effect on me. It makes me crave certain foods or drinks. Or food or drink related activities. And it makes me miss home and family and friends. 

I’ve always believed that humans are very connected to the earth. When voiced, I usually hear the response “you’re such a hippie.” I’m actually really okay with that.

But it’s got to be true.

We exhale and eat plants that use our waste as fertilizer and make oxygen! What a beautiful cycle.

Also like that thing called the circadian rhythm and seasonal depression…I’m linking them all to low availability of vitamin D.  And I would care to bet that those in Seattle and Portland could back me up.   

So what’s the benefit to my weather related cravings?…seasonal eating and seasonal produce! The way earth and man intended. (And probably candy corn and conversation heart companies but that’s just pure American capitalism…also known as monopoly).

What made this holiday-seasonal-missing-family-craving even better was that my chosen café selection had the most delicious sandwich I had ever eaten. Literally called “Thanksgiving on Focaccia.” Basically America on a sandwich without the side of candy corn. 

It cured me of all my yearnings. 

Well most of them. 

It was like a really good preview for the main Murph event, seated around our table of seasonal, traditional food in sweet home Chicago. 

Sugar and Spice and Everything Nice

While working on my thesis, I became distracted with the concept of using foods as terms of endearment. If you know me, you know I have some interesting terms. One such term being “babycakes.” 

You can’t whip this one out on anyone. Believe me, I've tried. When the words “thanks babycakes!” instinctively poured out of my mouth after talking to my 25 year old brother, I decided to use caution. Especially before I thanked the 55 year old male, UPS delivery handler on impulse. It came out “thanks baa-okay, thanks!!” That could have been awkward. Even more so if I had stopped after babe…

• Sweet Pea
• Pumpkin (Pie)
• Sugar
• Honey Bun, shortened to Honey (not to be confused with Hunny)
• Sweetie Pie
• Babycakes..? What does that even mean? The thought of it really kind of creeps me out

They’re all sweets!

I think I genetically inherited this trait from mama murph. (Of course after my awkward endearment encounters I have to look to my parents as a source of blame).  But in all seriousness, she came home from work and recounted a conversation with an 80something year old that included several such terms of endearment only to be interrupted by the 80something year old saying “I’m confused, why are you calling me foods?”

Why? Because they’re all sweets! Translation: you’re sweet. ie: “Thanks sweetie!” 

It's interesting to me that sweets became associated with positive affirmations/positive pronouns. Or just positives in general, ie: “niiiiice, sweet deal!” 

Then somewhere in the 90s people started using “fatty or phat” to describe their “fatty deals” and “phat girlfriends.” You know that last one came about by some panicked boyfriend who was being interrogated by his girlfriend regarding a “not so sweet” comment he had made.

Anyways, back on track…So I think I’m going to test drive a vegetable as a term of endearment. Translation: You’re looking healthy and fabulous! I less than three (<3) your healthy heart. I hope your diet is reducing your chances of adverse cardiovascular events!

“Parsnip” and “turnip” came into my mind probably because they’re still starches (made of glucose=sugar=sweet) but I may have to opt for the really hardcore vegetables.  

This holiday season I’m going to approach my cousins with “Hey, broccoli! How are you?” If it works on them, I may have to include it into my appreciative "thank you" for my male, mail carrier in hopes that he will carry it on. Handling others hearts with care. 

Doesn't this idea just bROCKoli..?
Too far? Did I take it too far?

In a Beat

Technology continues to boggle my mind. 

You know when your father is staring at his phone and saying “What is this envelope on my phone?  And how do I make it go away without getting charged for opening it?” There were some choice expletive deleted-s in that quote, mainly targeted at phone service companies, but I chose to save you all. 

…Yea, I’m kind of like that. I’m a premature version of “wait wait, slow down. Remind me, what does that button do again?” Probably a huge reason why I never got Zotero working on my computer the other day…

In my own defense: 1) Why bother concerning myself when I have ten people around me that could name and locate the number of petting zoos within a 100 mile radius in 30 seconds flat, and 2) Something tells me that technology and obesity are positively correlated. Throw in a growing sense of entitlement and you’ve got an American.

During my nutrition education lesson today I touched on this concept. Show of hands out there, (I’m dead serious, I figured out what that button does so I can see you and your hand!) how many of you would go through the trouble of milling wheat, milking cows, collecting eggs, and baking a pie  from scratch?  Now, how many of you would pick an apple off of a tree? How many of you would choose a pie if it took about a minute, and about a dollar, and you didn’t even have to set foot on the ground (I’m totally not referring to a certain fast food’s apple pie here).

I know exactly what happened to that apple I picked off the tree. .

Get the message?

The kicker to this whole convenience/technology standpoint was that I was teaching valuable lessons to Canadian high school students today in Saint Louis Missouri. How you ask?

Live over the internet of course, silly. 

It’s an interactive lesson. So when I asked “show of hands” I really was dead serious. And speaking about dead, Ray Vollmer, the Adventures in Medicine and Science coordinator, displays my nutrition lessons’ consequences by showing the students healthy and diseased hearts from people who have donated their bodies to science.  Pretty wild, huh? 

 
At the “heart” of my power point lesson we discuss the categories of fat, the types of fat that make up those categories, the food that makes up the type of fat, and the impact of those food/fat on your health. Then at the end we play games like “which are healthier choices?” and “True or false questions.” 

I’ll give you a feel of it.

True or False, eating late at night will cause you to gain weight? 

False! Yes, our metabolisms are subject to timing of eating but the bottom line is that if you exceed the amount of calories, regardless of time, that you need to support your weight (no matter if it is coming from excess carbohydrate, protein, or fat) you will gain weight.

The reason behind the myth? People probably make poorer choices and have lower energy to prepare healthier meals at the end of the day. They also have fewer opportunities to burn calories if they’re home bound and bed bound.

Thanks for playing along! I hope you believed in my ability to use technology so much that you verbalized your answer to your computer screen. Classic example: mama murph compensating her own technology knowledge deficit by puffing out her chest and loudly and very articulately verbalizing “yes” to the credit card screen at the grocery store checkout lane rather than verifying the amount  by pushing the green button on the screen. Even though the checkout woman was politely choking her laughter when she corrected my mother, you’ve got to hand it to the lady…this is the way of future. 

But no matter the way of the technology future, our bodies rely on good ole balance, variety, and moderation.