Body Wrap

Body Wrap

I have to say that getting a body wrap is THE silliest, most futile effort that I've made to shed a few pounds. Normally, in preparation for something such as my wedding or a vacation, I'll watch what I eat and work out more regularly to achieve a frame that is about five pounds lighter. That usually starts a few weeks before an occasion. But when my dear husband surprised me with a trip to Costa Rica, I was very excited and also very unprepared. Almost instinctively, one hand slipped down to a love handle while the other fell to a saddlebag, and I felt around trying to gauge how much work I had cut out for me in less than a week. I immediately began scouring the Internet for the solution to losing five pounds or more in about five days.

Diet pills? Nah. I needed to do this without somehow poisoning my body. Lipo? Oh, nooo... I've seen that done on TV and I will NOT subject myself to such battery. Besides, with how much the procedure costs it's either that or the vacation, not both! I don't do liquid diets. That would just make me bitchy... So, I kept coming back to this body wrap idea. I knew it sounded too good to be true, but I was desperate. It took only an hour, cost $100, and boasted claims about losing 6-21 inches with one wrap. It claimed to rid the body of toxins, which are supposedly responsible for excess inches and cellulite. Plus smoother and tighter skin to boot. Since I didn't have to ingest anything, I gave it a try.

When I got there, the room smelled. It smelled like old sweat. I had a real problem with that. The woman had me take off everything except for my panties, and when I am disrobing for any type of procedure, I want to feel like the room is pristine. She came back in and proceeded to wrap me up tightly with ace bandages that were soaked in some cocktail of herbs and juices and berries meant to extract toxins and fat from my cells and into my lymphatic system. She wrapped me so tightly that it was uncomfortable. My whole body was wrapped, so I literally looked like a mummy. Then- gasp!- she asked me to get on the elliptical! What?! The whole reason I was there was because I had been avoiding exercise. She explained to me that I had to keep my body moving to let all the toxins flow right on out. She said I only needed to move a little bit; the goal was not to break a sweat and burn calories but to just keep moving. I guess.

She left me in the room with the elliptical and a movie and told me to keep moving for 45 minutes. Now, while I understood that the goal was not to get a workout here, it was impossible not to. I was barely moving, but when you are bound tightly with unyielding ace bandages, this is quite a feat. I was short of breath, but I kept it moving. And I felt very silly. I kept looking down at the tub underneath the machine that was there to catch all of the liquid straining off of me as I moved, which supposedly contained all my evil, unwanted toxins. All of the sense inside of me told me that pure physics just wouldn't allow this to actually work. So this magic formula is seeping through my skin, into my cells, rounding up all the toxins and fat it that could inside of each cell, then whisking it away, out of the cell, out through my skin, and down into this tub? Riiight... but I kept moving.

Forty-five minutes couldn't come fast enough, and when it finally did I was so grateful to have the constricting bandages removed. And I honestly believe that once they were, everything fell right back into place. See, all wrapped up tightly I looked great. Everything was sucked up and flat and smooth. It was like one big body Spanx. But just like when you remove those Spanx at the end of the day, everything gets let out, cellulite and all. It was a letdown. Sure, she measured me, before and after, and afterwards there was the reported inch or half inch here and there, but nothing to write home about.

I really enjoyed my vacation anyway, with my extra five pounds of upholstery and visible cellulite. Really, at an all-inclusive resort, by day three or four I usually gain back at least some of anything I'd lost anyway.

xoxo nkechi

30 Day Shred

30 Day Shred

Baby weight. I like to call it that because it makes me feel better about carrying these last few stubborn pounds. Truth is this isn’t weight gained from being pregnant and it isn’t just a few pounds. This is weight from eating and sitting on my ass. Weight to the tune of 15 pounds. I have always been a pretty active person and worked out. Never have I been the type to really “eat right.” I like food. I like good food. I also like wine and margaritas. Dieting is not an easy task for me. I would rather work out like a football player during two-a-days training sessions. Problem is, I haven’t been doing that. I’ve been pretty idle with sporadic runs here and there. May 1, 2009. Today is the day this changes. I decide that part of the problem is time. I have none. I hear about Jillian Michael’s 30 Day Shred and decide I’m going to give it a try. It’s a 20 minute workout combining cardio and strength and it’s only 20 minutes. I have watched Jillian kick the ass of all the contestants on the Biggest Loser, so I know she is hardcore. I went to Target to pick it up and get started.

Day 1.

The video says to start on level 1 and work you way up. Ok. Easy enough. Each workout is 20 minutes long. Perfect. Gym clothes on. Shoes laced. Time to start. The music is dreadful. The workout is too easy. I didn’t even sweat. Maybe this isn’t the way to go. I go for a run and think about how pissed I am that I wasted 20 minutes listening to reject techno.

Day 1, 4 hours later.

I didn’t want to give up completely. I start level 2. This is no joke. I’m sweating like a pig and cursing at the TV in between grunts.

Day 2.

I hate chair squats and v-fly. Damn you, Jillian.

Day 3.

I decide to shred in the morning and go for a run in the fabulous Houston 90 degree weather. I’m going to die. Shred + Run = Hardcore workout. I feel like Rocky.

Day 4.

I really don’t want to shred today, but it’s only 20 minutes, so I guess I will. I’m really sore. Damn you, Jillian.

Day 5.

It’s Cinco de Mayo. If I’m going to shred, I need to do it before festivities. I shred in the morning before work and get everything done just in time to make it for margaritas at 4pm. I am sure this is not what Jillian had in mind while on this program. Jillian probably does not approve of the many tacos and chips I had today either.

Day 6.

Shredded. I think the alcohol from yesterday is seeping out through my pores. Afterwards, I go for a run. Strangely, I feel energized and have a strong run.

Day 7.

It’s another Shred + Run day. Gotta love Houston weather. 93 degrees. Die. I also decide to check my stats today to see where I am with this Shred business. No weight lost. Nothing. Not even ½ a pound. How do I know not even ½ a pound? Because I have the Tanita scale that will register that ½ pound weight loss to make you feel ½ way better. It didn’t register anything. If I were on the Biggest Loser, I would be below the yellow line today.

Day 8.

Shred + Run in the morning. It’s getting better but really, the chair squats and v-fly blow and I wish Jillian would stop making me do them. Also, Natalie (one of the workout models) is a space cadet. Jillian asks her questions and she just smiles and stares off into space.

Day 9.

Shred + Run. I feel awesome and my husband says I’m hot. Yeah. I feel like a rock star.

Day 10.

It’s Mother’s Day and if I’m going to get my shred in, I need to do it in the morning. I don’t. Apparently my family believes in the gift of food for Mother’s Day, so it’s an eat-a-thon. No shredding and I feel like a whale. Thanks, fam.

Day 11.

I shredded twice today. Double shred. Die.

Day 12.

I’m thinking about moving to level 3 but I think I’ll just hang around at level 2 a little longer. Plus, I can curse Jillian on cue.

Day 13.

I decide to move up to level 3. WTF is this!? Am I being punished? I’m a human pogo stick with all these plyometrics. I think I want to return to level 2 but if I do I feel like Jillian is going to jump out the screen and yell at me. Plus I’ll feel like a loser. I’m really not about that.

Day 14

I have the freaking munchies. I don’t want to shred but I definitely don’t want to double shred tomorrow. I decide to run and shred later. I can’t grasp the idea of doing rock star jumps today, but maybe after I run I’ll feel energized. Fail. I baked cookies, and ate 4.

Day 15

Since I skipped out on shredding yesterday, it’s a double shred day. Double shred on level 3. I am surprised the TV is still in tact. Later that evening I have 3 glasses of wine.

Day 16.

Great run, level 3 shred. Awesome! Thought I would check in on the Tanita today as well. Nothing. This isn’t going well. Where are those cookies I baked and why is there an empty bottle of wine in the fridge?

Day 17

Run. Shred. I don’t hate the plyometrics as much anymore… so I celebrate with margaritas. Cheers!

Day 18

At school today, another student comes up to me and tells me how great I look and wants to know how I lost so much weight. Wow. According to Tanita, I’m still flabby. Yay! I did get my shred in.

Day 19

Same student again comes up to me, this time she gives me a hug and tells me she is so proud of me. Well, jeez… how fat was I? Today was a shred+run day.

I’ll spare you the remaining details of the day-to-day because it’s all shred, shred+run. There was also some Bikram thrown in there, but not consistently. All in all, 30 Day Shred is a good workout. For me, I feel like I need more cardio which is why I combined running. All “run” days meant a 3 mile run in 30 minutes or less. I did notice that while I was actually doing level 3, it was hard, after I did not feel like I had a hard workout, so I started to alternate between level 2 and level 3. Also, keep in mind I didn’t really “diet.” First, I don’t do diets. Second, this was one of those months where it seemed every time I turned around there was a reason to eat and drink (I think that may be every month, though). I know numbers talk so, here is what 30 Day Shred did for me:

WAIST -2.5

WAIST (LOWER PART) -3

HIPS (TRUE) -1.5

HIPS (WHERE MY FAT POCKETS ARE) -2.5

THIGH R -1 L -1.5

ARMS R -2 L -2.5

POUNDS -3

FAT % -6.5%

xoxo

din

Mesotherapy Injections Part 2

Mesotherapy part 2

 

After my success with mesotherapy first time around, I figured I would give it a try after my son was born. All the fantastic results from Mesotherapy Part 1 went to shit after I ate my way through my second pregnancy. I weaned my son off breastfeeding, did workouts here and there and figured it was time to melt the fat sticking to the outside of my thighs like winter storage. This time around, I came across an office in Houston and decided to give them a try. Plus, the injections were ½ the price of Mesotherapy Part 1. Great, right? I schedule my appointment and look forward to fitting into my clothes again.

 

I arrive at the office and begin completing all the same types of forms I completed during Mesotherapy Part 1. I know what to expect this time around and I had already prepared to lay low for 2 weeks because of the swelling. First step, I am weighed. 135 pounds. Not only does the scale tell me my weight, it continues to insult me calculating my body fat percentage and BMI. Do I really need to know all this to get these injections? I mean that is why I’m here, too much fat. I don’t need to be reminded of it three different ways by a machine. After the scale taunts me, I am taken into a room where the nurse pulls out a tape measure. “So we can track your results. It’s just part of the procedure” I’m not a tape measure person. I track results by sight and fit. But… ok. She continues to measure and then begins on my waist, arms, pretty much everywhere. Um, if I am here for my thighs, why are all the other measurements necessary? I don’t ask questions but I wish she would get right to the shots. Finally, the assessment of how large I am is complete and it’s time to get to work. Now, Mesotherapy Part 1, I basically dropped my pants and the doctor injected. This time, she asks me to disrobe and get on the table. I follow orders and wait on the table. It’s freezing cold in the room. The AC is on full blast and there is no cover. In she walks with ice packs. Ice packs? She wraps my legs up with ice packs explaining she wants to numb my legs so I won’t feel pain. I tell her I have a pretty high tolerance for pain, and the injections won’t hurt me. I also tell her I have zero tolerance for freezing ice packs smashed to my legs for 30 minutes. She tells me, “it’s just part of the procedure.” She leaves the room so I can go into hypothermia privately. After about 20 minutes, she returns and asks if I am comfortable. “No.” She apologizes, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Finally, the injections. She begins doing all her preparations as I literally freeze my ass off. Really, I think I lost like 5 pounds during the “prep time.” She injects away on my first leg and then starts to massage it. I don’t remember this so I ask her what she is doing. She tells me, “it’s just part of the procedure.” This “massage” is the worst thing I have ever felt. My leg is still frozen, I have just been injected like 15 times and here she is rubbing me the way you would rub a dresser if you were sanding it. I don’t even want to move on to leg two. Around this time, I start to wonder things such as, “whatever happened to good old diet and exercise?” and “what the hell is wrong with me?” and “I hope I don’t get cancer from this.” I got lost in my thoughts and stopped paying attention to what was happening until the massage assault on my second leg started. “You do know I am here for mesotherapy, right?” She tells me yes and, “it’s just part of the procedure.” Do they give them scripts?

 

Finally, it is over and I can leave the torture room. I pay and get out of there as fast as I can. The worst part is over. Now I can sit back and swell up. So I thought. The torture room was just the beginning. Yes, I was swollen, but not like Mesotherapy Part 1. It was more uneven. I also had very, very, very bad bruising. I looked like I belong in a Lifetime Movie of the Week. Even my husband noticed the difference, “you didn’t look like that last time.” Thanks. Two weeks went by and it was time for my checkup. The swelling went down, but not completely. I was also very sore and tender. I figured I would bring it up at the checkup. I arrive and I am put through the whole scale, BMI, tape measurement hell again. “You gained inches.” “Yeah! Because I am still swollen!” She said I should come back in a week so she can see the progress. I went home, and a few days later, still swollen and sore, I decided NOT to return ever again. The soreness lasted MONTHS after the injections. Lessons learned: Shortcuts are not the way to go; I have to put in the work and effort. Secondly, not all mesotherapy is equal. 

xoxo 

din