Putting Money Where Ones Mouth Is...

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By Danielle Moler

Well, my students really are quite a bit more observant than I thought.  I received the following direct message on Facebook from a student of mine over the weekend.  This student is a great singer and a really good kid.  He's got a rare voice type, and has overcome so much already.  I asked his permission before posting this.

So I've been reading your blog. I have seen your transformation from what u were and what u are now. I see that your happy and fit. There has been a big difference in you since you have lost weight, a good difference. I can honestly say that your class is the only class that I smile without trying, can be myself, and feel confident in all I do. But outside that room it is all a different story. A recent event happened that let reality hit me square in the face. Like I said I went to the doctor. Sat down, flipped through a magazine and heard my name. Got up walked down the hall, and was told to do the one thing I fear more then anything, step on the scale. I stood sideways, so I wouldn't have to see it, but the nurse said it out loud. "two-thirty one point six." like a sharp knife to my ears, I held back the tears. Thankfully I was facing away from the nurse as she ushered me back to a room. The only problem I have, I suffer in silence. My weight. fatty, upa-lupa, chubby- buddy, fatso-lot, mooby man, flab abs. Kids are real creative nowadays huh. The only thing that has ever held me back is my weight and I know this. I don't go out with friends cause most the time involves physical activity, and I sweat like a dog anyway, and get out of breathe just walking. Hate shopping cause I know that we don't look for the normal sizes but things with a big X on them, just knowing that they need extra fabric for me, I hate it. The sweater what a neat invention, something big, comfortable, and looks the same on everyone my safety zone. I envy you Aaron, seeing your success, wanting to be like you. Really don't know what I'm trying to say I just needed to tell someone. Someone who might be able to help. Just maybe.

Idk what I am doing sending this, but guess all insecurities go out the window when you have noone to talk to and nowhere to go.

Wow!  I was surprised, and then incredibly sad for a really great kid.  I hate that stories like this, and they are probably way more common than they should be.  While I'm flattered that students have noticed my own weight loss, I'm humbled that even one student would seek me out for advice.  Here was my initial response to his message.

Wow thank you. I'm so very glad you stayed in choir. I'm truly humbled that you feel like you can be yourself in my classroom. That means more too me than you know. As far as everything else you said, I'll comment on that later when I'm not so tired. But I will say this, weight loss is work, and you really have to dedicate yourself to it to make it happen, and really, that's the hardest part.  Have a good weekend.

I haven't followed up on that response yet simply because I'm not sure what to tell him.  The ironic thing is that this is exactly what I hoped would eventually happen, now I'm at a loss as to what to do to really help him.  I need to put my money where my mouth is, but how do I help him without blurring the teacher/student line?  Perhaps simply sharing with him what I did is the best idea.  I don't know, I've never been in this situation before.  And frankly, it's kinda scary.

Eating Healthy Can Like Totally Kill You, and Stuff!

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Aaron:

No, really!  It can!  

Yesterday, we were getting ready to cook some wild rice.  My wife had taken out some turkey to thaw.  We were going to mix them together in a wrap.  So, my wife put the rice on to boil and we went downstairs to work on some home improvement projects in our bedroom.  The wild rice mix we like usually takes about an hour to cook, so we weren't really in any big hurry.

After being in our basement for about twenty minutes we smelled something burning.  Janet went up stairs to check, thinking the heat was on too high and it had boiled over.  Suddenly, she yells for me to come upstairs.  I stepped upstairs and entered a cloud of smoke.  It was strong enough to make it very difficult to breath and caused my eyes to burn.  I entered the kitchen to see the wild rice burning and sending out a ton of smoke.

Janet:

Woah!  Wait a minute!  The Editor here.  I need to interject that I'm not a complete ignoramus in the kitchen.  So what if boiling rice continues to defeat me?  This time, it wasn't my fault.

A couple of weeks ago, our little darling dropped my favorite thermal mug on the floor and broke the inner sleeve out of it.  I glued it back together and waited an hour or so before I put it in the dishwasher.  Apparently a pocket of glue hadn't dried, which surprised me, as it usually dries before I have a chance to get my finger off of the mug.  The dishwasher spread the glue on several items that were washing with the mug.

Some of it had gotten on our $300 Carico pot.  I soaked everything in vinegar, which seemed to do the trick.  I thought Aaron had used the pot since my little boo-boo, but he apparently hadn't.  So, in an accident worthy of a Pinky and the Brain episode, the glue reacted to the heat, somehow all of the water boiled out immediately, and smoked enough for a Cheech and Chong movie.

Actual Photo of Epic Rice Fail

Aaron:

Luckily, we didn't burn our house down, but now we had a whole house full of toxic smoke. We opened up every window in the house and grabbed a couple of fans to push the smoke out.  The smell, however, is still here.  I don't think anything is permanently smoked damaged, but the smell is going to be around for a few days. We forced our young son to stay downstairs where the smoke wasn't as thick, which really didn't make him that happy, as his Thomas choo-choos were upstairs.  And since the kitchen smelled bad and was smokey, we ordered pizza and had a makeshift picnic on the floor of our bedroom downstairs.  It turned out to be kinda fun!  And the smoke made it smell like we were camping.  Good times.

The most disturbing part about this little accident is that our smoke detectors didn't go off, both of which are brand-new and are supposed to have a ten-year battery.  I guess will be getting new detectors very soon.

So, while an exciting way to bring the year to a close, I guess the lesson to all of this is to always be careful and attentive while cooking.  Nothing really bad actually happened, but if we had waited a few minutes longer who knows what could have happened.   And, in retrospect, we probably should have left the house while it was airing out because I'm sure the smoke was toxic.  So eating healthy can kill you, if you're not careful.

You know what sucks?  I really wanted turkey wraps.  Even though I've noted in the past I love pizza.

Janet:

I know, dear.  There, there.

P.E. Has to Change, Part 1: The Problems

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Photo by uwdigitalcollections'

The following is a dramatic reenactment of a key moment in Janet's (The Editor's) P.E. experience. Names have been changed to protect the sort-of-innocent.

Teacher:  Ok, kids, today we're going to play kickball.

Class (including Janet):  Yay!

Teacher:  Let's pick teams.  Ok, Timmy, you pick team one, and Sheila, you pick team two.

Class (everybody but Janet):  OK!

Janet:  Yay!  I'm going to be picked last.  Again.

Five minutes later, Janet has been picked last, even after the kid with two broken legs.  It is now Janet's turn to kick the ball.

Teacher:  Ok, Janet!  You're up.

Janet approaches the ball with trepidation, though still filled with the heady exhilaration that affects all elementary kids when it is his or her turn.

Janet:  (To herself)  Ok, just kick the ball.  Doesn't have to be far, doesn't have to be fast.  Just kick it and don't look like a douche...just don't look like a douche...

Pitcher:  I'd better do it slow so she can see it coming!  (Snickers with glee.)

He pitches the ball at a speed that may outpace a caterpillar, but not by much.  Jeers and cheers from the other kids about Janet's remarkable lack of coordination ensue.


Teacher:  Stop it.  That's not nice.  (Other kids point and laugh mockingly behind the teacher's back.)  Janet, just kick the ball.

Janet:  (To herself)  Ok, just gotta make like the Mighty Ducks and go from zero to hero.

Janet squares up to the ball, runs to kick it, but kicks too soon, bringing her foot down on top of the ball instead of the side.  It rolls from beneath her and she falls flat on her butt.  Hard.


Pitcher:  Ha!  She looks like a douche!  Laughter from the class washes over Janet's humiliated and very sore body.


Tinkly music brings us back to the present.  Doo-dee-doo-dooo!   Doo-dee-doo-dooo!

For those of us who were not blessed with the ability to avoid tripping over one's own feet, P.E was an hour of social mayhem.  P.E., especially in high school, taught us one thing:  that we were horrible at most organized sports.  Looking back now as an adults who have struggled with weight and fitness, we wish P.E had taught us more about how to actually succeed with physical skills and less about how to dodge bullies in the locker room.  From our perspective, the way that P.E. is traditionally structured only works for athletes, and it teaches those who aren't naturally gifted to hate, or at the least dislike, exercise.  We hate athletics, not because we're lazy or uncoordinated, but we just can't take the humiliation of failing in front of others and exposing ourselves to ridicule.

Aaron and Janet are far from the only ones who have had this sort of experience.  Rita Barry, the editor and creator of Fitblogger, says, "Oh, I don't know if there's enough words in the universe to communicate the terrible, horrible dismay that was P.E. for me.  I was heavy, uncool, tragically so, and it was really just a lesson in humiliation.  So much focus was put on sports and proficiency in them, as opposed to health and why this 'gym' thing was even important.  Gym for me became a lesson in avoidance, blending, and hiding more than it was about learning, challenging myself, or discovering a love of physical activity."  

A more subtle, but possibly even more damaging, effect of traditional P.E. instruction is the unsaid, but often implied, belief that athletics are the pinnacle of human achievement, and those who are not athletic therefore do not matter.  Think about Principal McGee's line in the movie, "Grease:"  "If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter."  We believe that two problems result from this belief.  First, Janet figured if she couldn't be an athlete, then she wasn't anything, and she believed that for a very long time.  Second, in Aaron's experience, he found that that attitude turns kids off to anything physical.  With the thousands of non-physical activities available, like video games, movies, television,  Facebook, and BLOGGING, it is very easy for a kid with low self-esteem to throw themselves into activities that are unhealthy in long durations.  We should note that we, as Band Geeks, are perfectly aware of the damage this attitude can also do to our music programs, especially if it is held by those who hold the purse strings.

Many schools require health classes in addition to P.E., which we don't think is a bad thing in and of itself.  Though, in our experience, it was taught like life science.  Information was presented and tested.  You turned in your quizzes, you got your grades.  There was no teaching that pushed students to apply the information in the course.  (Janet would argue that this is the number one problem for every subject in education today.)

Both Aaron and Janet are music teachers, and we feel physical education has a whole lot more in common with music education than is apparent at first blush.  Both teach tricky and refined physical skills.  Both have social components that need to be addressed.  Both programs are being cut at many schools.  Finally, and sadly, we find that in many ways physical and music education fail us because certain factors are not being addressed en masse by educators.

A class doesn't have to involve humiliation in front of one's peers.  In music classes like choir and band, the possibility of public failure is just as high as in a P.E class, especially when we ask students to perform something in small groups or by themselves.  BUT, IT CAN BE ADDRESSED IN A POSITIVE MANNER.  By helping those students achieve and by creating a class culture of support, our students learn it's OK to take risks.  We believe that the use of Human Compatible Learning in physical education will work to everyone's benefit, including the athletes.

In our next post, we will explain how this method can be applied and its benefits.

In the comments, tell us about your experiences in P.E.  What did your teachers do that was effective for you and your health?  Or was your experience more like ours?  See what other Band Geek readers have said about theirs on another post.

School and afternoon runs!

Photo by Kr. B

Every Wednesday my school lets our students out a half-hour early so that the staff can have a PD hour, which stands for professional development.  Most of the time this hour really isn't all that fun.  Though last week I talk to colleague of mine about going running once a week after our meetings on Wednesdays.  She happens to be the cross-country coach and is an avid runner.  Lucky for me she is always looking for someone to run with.  So today during our PD hour I had to do everything in my power to keep my mind on the task at hand and not jump forward to my afternoon run. 

This was the first time I've gone running with somebody else. It's also the first time I've on roads and not a track or a treadmill.  We only went for a short run, 2 miles, because my colleague had to get back for a first aid training class.  I have decided that I enjoy running a lot more with someone then by myself, she was very nice a kept a slow pace since I'm still fairly new to running any length of distance.  Running out in the county and not on a track or a treadmill was also awesome, I loved the feeling of being outside somewhere and not confined to a track or a room.  I'm definitely getting into this whole running thing.

We will try and run together every Wednesday so long as the weather doesn't get to cold or nasty.  If I ever get in enough training, she already said she'd run a half-marathon with me.  She has run several.  It is so nice to run with someone who has had a lot of running experience, but is still willing to take a newbie under their wing.  Yeah for wonderful people in the world.  My hope is that everyone who is new to running has someone like this to help them get started.

The first 5k of the season up here in Montana is in March I believe, I've agreed to run a 5k with another friend of mine sometime this spring or early summer, but then I want to see if I can train up to a 10k before the summers over.  Two good initial running goals I think.  I never thought I'd enjoy running as much as I am. I can't wait for spring!

Band Geek's Guide to the Gridiron

(Please note that the following is the Editor's overly anal and fussy perspective on college football.  Aaron just wanted me to scream and flash the crowd cam.)

A few weeks ago, one of our former students, Roy McKenney, mentioned that he was the drum major for this year's marching band.  He told Aaron that they were performing at the home football game at the University of Montana in Missoula, MT.  (Roy has lost 35 pounds, by the way!  Go Roy!)  Since we, the Geeks, would be in Missoula for our education conference, we elected to stay an extra night and watch them march.  There was only one problem.

Janet had to watch a football game.  She also had to ignore Aaron's chihuahua-like leaps of joy.

I received my Master's from U of M, so I guess I'm supposed to cheer for the Griz.  I went to classes over the summer, so I never was exposed to the psychotic fan fervor that defines U of M.  I had never been to a major sporting event, and I would probably feel more comfortable getting a root canal.  During a root canal I would just have to lay there and be sedated, and I would know exactly how to to behave.  Football game?  Not so much.

I decided that I would document and study the behavior I saw at the game so I could figure out how to act at any future sporting events.  I tried to see everything from a neutral standpoint.


First, I noticed that I missed the memo on what color to wear.

Our seats were in the student section, and I soon learned that the word "seat" was a misnomer, as there wasn't enough room to sit.  We stood sandwiched in with thousands of students, most of whom were working on their own type of sedation, though the drug of choice seemed to be Everclear.

Some seemed to be channeling the spirit of the bear, a ritualistic gesture designed to incite the murderous power of the beast to said football team.

This guy seemed to be channeling the spirit of a condom.

Also present were walking, dancing avatars for the team.  As cool as it was, how a guy driving a mini fighter jet in a bear suit will make them more likely to win, I haven't a clue.

There were several of our former band geeks present.  Roy, the drum major...

Logan, Roy's little bro, playing trumpet.  (2nd from left, center row.)  Logan lost a great deal of weight, as well, though I don't know the amount.

Andrew, another former student, playing saxophone.  Andrew doesn't need to lose weight.....dammit.

Here's the most puzzling aspect of the game.  I get the basic rules.

Get the ball in the other team's end zone.
Prevent them from doing the same to yours.
Don't die.

Ok.  Got it.  But does anyone else find it even a teensy-weensy bit hypocritical to go to these games to see guys get the piss pounded out of them, and then be all concerned when they get hurt?

Then again, band geeks everywhere owe a debt of blood to the players on the field.  Few would come to see the band by itself.  Sadly, no one has figured out how to make it a contact sport.

Band Geeks Unite!

The Band Geeks, Aaron and Janet Morgenstern, are pledging to step away from their keyboards, horns, and mallets and focus on their health, with the hope of balancing Geekdom with their repressed inner Jocks.

 All are welcome, even Orc Dorks, Choir Goobs, and all others whose stereotypes include a decided lack of social skills and a fondness for fundraiser candy.

Life is not a race, it’s a journey, and for many of us, getting healthier shouldn’t be a competition.

Musicians know how to do things together.

If a foot race was run like an ensemble, we would all run across the finish line at the exact same time with our feet pounding at an identical tempo (well maybe one or two people would rush and end a bit early).

Musicians know how to build each other up.

Many band geeks rush into the arms of the music department because we feel accepted and valued, and to give us a creative outlet that we cannot find elsewhere.

The Band Geeks: Aaron and Janet, strive to create an environment in which our students feel safe to try something new, despite the risk of failure.  We would like to create that same supportive and fun culture on this blog for whomever would like to live a life long and healthy enough to gripe about one’s grandkids’ music.

Talk to us.  Tell us your stories, and join Band Geeks everywhere as we run, arm in arm, across the finish line together.

And then there was RUN!!

As I think I've said before, I'm a music teacher.  This weekend I'm in Missoula at a music convention.  This is actually one of my favorite events each year because I get to see a bunch of my band director buddies from other towns.  However it't been rough on my diet and workouts.  UGH!!

I ate horribly today.  And I felt gross because of it.  I guess I should be happy that eating badly has that effect on me now.

One of my students who's participating in our All-State Music Festival is also a cross-country runner.  The state meet is Saturday right after the music festival is over.

Since she needed to get some running in, and our hotel had a few treadmills I thought it'd be fun to join her running.

Now do realize that I've been working out regularly since June, so I'm in much better shape then I use to be.  But I've been doing Power 90, not running.  So I wasn't quite sure how that would translate.

Turns out it translates well.  I was able to run 3 miles easily.  I never lost control of my breath and I actually felt like I could have kept going.

This is exciting news to me since I've had this thought in my head for awhile now that I'd really like to be able to run races someday.  Well a 5k is in the cards now!  I think I just found a new life goal.  I would really like to be able to run a marathon someday.  In fact, I will run one someday.  Yeah for music festivals and treadmills!

A Romp through Skeeterville!

A couple of weeks ago I invited a bunch of my students, both current and former ones, to a game of Ultimate Frisbee, the game traditional for band geeks, orch dorks, and choir goobers alike.  I set up a event on Facebook and got about 16 of us together.  After much debate, we decided to play at a place called the Experiment Station, which an agriculture museum and laboratory.  A lot of events are held there, and there was a nice, open grassy area on which we could play.  It was great to see some of my former students, one who just graduated from college.  That little fact is making me feel old!  The only problem was...mosquitoes!!!  LOTS of them.

We've had a wetter than normal summer and the bugs are loving it.  The moment I stepped out of my car I had at least 8 of them on my legs.  Of course these are the type of mosquitoes that laugh in the face of repellent and merely point and snigger at Skin-So-Soft.

They're all like, "Hmm what's that wonderful smell?  I know!! Human meat with a slightly tangy sauce of OFF!!"

"Watch out though," said Zippy the mosquito, "humans can pack a huge punch once in a while!"

"Naw, no worries," said Bob.  "There's only a few of them and oh, 16,000,000,000 of us.  HAHAHAHA!!!"

The game was a ton of fun, though, and I was able to keep up for the most part.  We play a non-competitive version, so we don't keep score.  Anytime one of the teams scored, we simply change sides and kept playing.  It's a great game for getting exercise because you run, and run, and run some more.  I played it a lot in college and H.S. and we introduced it to the Huntley Project kids.

Three years into my teaching career I took over the band program at my school.  We are part of an organization called the Tri-County Honor Band.  This group is basically an honors band made up of the best players from all of the small schools in the area.  It rehearses for three months and then goes on a week long tour.  The first tour we went on I found out that other students really enjoyed playing Ultimate.  This was also when I discovered how completely out of shape I was!  I played with them for an hour.  The next morning I could barely get out of bed, and my legs hurt for a week afterward.  This was when I realized I needed to change my lifestyle.  Granted, it took me another three years before I actually did anything about it, but that was the moment I knew I didn't want to be fat and out of shape the rest of my life. 

I started working out regularly on June 8th, 2010.  My starting weight at that point was 230 pounds.  YIKES!!  As of this morning I'm down to 208.  My eventual goal is 195-190.  Things are going well.  I feel great!  Except for the bug bites!

Custard's Last Stand

The Editor here.  My husband and I celebrated our 8th anniversary today, though it was really on the 3rd of August.  Aaron's sister got married that day, so we put off our dinner until today.  His mother gave us a creme brulee torch, and I just finished making chocolate pots de creme.  Aaron's on his way home to enjoy the chocolatey goodness, and as I sit and write, I reminisce about our mutual love of creme brulee.  Though it's definitely not on the Beachbody diet plan, they can sit and spin tonight for all I care because it's our ANNIVERSARY.

A few years back, I decided that I must be a bitchin' enough cook to make creme brulee and not have to buy it at fancy restaurants.  We borrowed a friend's torch the first time, and damn!  Not bad, if I say so myself. 

The second time I made it, I didn't have any of the proper (insert French accent) "accoutrements" to make it correctly, but I grew up with the Montana spirit of (insert hick accent) "jerry-rig the sumbitch."  We had just used a thousand degree heat gun to remove tile from our bathroom floor.  Janet thinks, "Hmmm....a thousand degrees should do an awesome crust."

In many ways, I am just like my dad.  We both love creative problem solving and ingenuity, but unfortunately, we both occasionally think our bitchin' ideas don't require the use of safety equipment or common sense.  For those of you who have never used one, a heat gun is like a blow dryer on crack.  Aaron, to his credit, had just started the sentence, "I don't think this is a very good...." but Janet didn't listen.  I sprinkled the top liberally with white granulated sugar, and grabbed my trusty heat gun.  Drooling in anticipation of carmelized awesomeness, I flipped to high. 

Did you know that really hot sugar burns and flies?  I didn't!  As soon as I turned the superheated air onto the top of the custard, flaming sugar threatened to ignite our ceiling.  It flew willy-nilly and burrowed into our skin, not badly, but it sure didn't tickle.

I've noticed that I keep getting equipment from my husband for our anniversary that involves the correct process for making creme brulee.  Coincidence?  I think not!  Tonight, we enjoyed for the first time creme brulee made properly with our own equipment.  Look out, Paris!  Here I come!

Adventures in Biking

Having grown up in mostly small communities, I spent a great deal of my youth on a bike.  One day, I was happily pedaling along.  I was probably twelve blocks or so from home when it split in half.  Apparently I was too heavy for it.  Imagine for a moment a 2nd grader trying to carry two pieces of a broken bike home, crying the whole time.  Boo-hoo for me.  Luckily, a nice teenager was walking by, took pity on me, and helped me carry it home.

Due to the laws of physics, I've had a lot of crashes.  My first was when my older sister thought she could teach me to ride it without training wheels.  Thanks to Gretchen, I still have trust issues.

The worst crash I ever took on a bike was when I was 9.  My dad was a director of a Lutheran Bible Camp in Nebraska at the time, which made me and my siblings camp brats.  The crash occurred when I was riding my bike down a steep hill to the beach of the lake that was at the camp.  I was riding full bore down the hill.  Ah, the ignorance and invincibility of youth.  I hit a log that I didn't see in the tall grass.  I flipped up over the top of the handle bars and the bike went flying over top of me.  I must have somersaulted in the hair because I landed on my shoulder blades.  Of course this was before traumatic brain injuries were really "in vogue," so I did this with my noggin exposed.  Somehow I walked away from that one.  Many years later, I discovered helmets.  Helmets?  They make those?  Cool.

Today, my wife and I dug our bikes out of storage about 5 weeks ago and I got them in working order.  I couple of flat tires later we were ready to begin biking.  I grew up biking in towns, my wife grew up on a ranch twenty miles from the nearest town.  Yeah.  Doesn't really prepare you for traffic much, does it?

(The Editor notes that, though she grew up away from people who try to mow others down with bumpers, she did have a very traumatic collision with a chipmunk, though the rodent recovered after showing it to her mom inside the house.)

All things considered, she really did quite well.

It was a ton of fun to be back on a bike again.  About a week ago, our neighbors gave us a seat they weren't using and we were able to ride with our son.  We went down to the bike trail that runs along the Yellowstone river.  The first leg of the trip was great.  A nice 3 mile stretch...no big hills...not a lot of traffic, and since we were moving the bugs were leaving us alone, except the one I swallowed.  It wasn't my fault.  He started it.  My son has discovered that he really likes riding on the bike, so he was happy as well.

Then we got adventurous.  At the end of the trail was a few paths that lead down to the river.  I thought it'd be fun to bike those since we do have mountain bikes and I remembered trail biking as being a ton of fun when I was younger, and yet, I forgot how much fun riding a suspension-less bike over river cobbles could be.  The boys are just now coming back out of hiding.  I now know that trying to go up soft dirt banks with a two-year-old behind you is extremely difficult.  Somehow I managed not to crash, though I did have to walk the bike up one section.  My wife seemed to be doing better than I, but she had just one person on the bike.

(The Editor notes that she actually flipped backwards after hitting a huge rock on an incline, but shhhh.  Don't tell Aaron.)

We got to the river just as the sun started to set.

Old-Guys Rockin

In addition to being a band director, I also play in two separate bands.  I play saxophone for a rock band in Billings called the Midlife Chryslers.  I also play guitar and sing for a Celtic/folk group called Banish Misfortune.  What's really funny is both groups are constantly debating new names.  For example, the newest name that my folk group really likes is, "All Folked Up."  Kinda catchy, and the rock group comes up with a new one just about every week.  Unfortunately, the rock band is fairly well known around are area and I think we are pretty much stuck with our current name.

The Chryslers just played a gig last night at St. John's, which is an assisted living/nursing home complex here in Billings.  St. John's started hosting a Thursday night concert series a number of years ago.  The concert series runs all summer and is free to the public.  They like us because our average crowd ends up being 3,000 plus.  The concert was a blast, as usual.

We even got a little local media coverage this time, though I'm only in a couple of clips since their main focus was on the doctors who make up the majority of the band.  I'm going to post the media clip separately from this post.

The only problem with playing in a large rock band is the amount of time it takes.  We started setting up at around 2:00 pm for a 7:00 pm gig, and I got home afterward at 11:00 pm.  By that point I was too tired to even want to think about doing my workout.  I suppose missing one day isn't going to hurt me all that much, but I was still not particularly happy with myself for not getting it in before I left my house at 1:30.  I guess that's the way it goes sometimes.  Collectively my two band have 3 more gigs in the next couple of weeks so I'm really going to have to watch my schedule and get my workouts in.  This will be good practice for when my normal job starts back up again at the end of August.

Tired Thoughts

Working out this past week was tough!  The program that I'm doing is called Power 90.  It's a six-days-a-week workout designed by a gentleman named Tony Horton.  It starts out nice enough.  You do three days of the sculpting circuit training and three days of cardio with one day off each week.  The program is divided into 8 levels.  Levels 1 and 2 aren't bad.  They teach you the moves and slowly allow your body to get used to working out six days a week.  I just switch over to levels 3 and 4 two weeks ago.  At this level the intensity and length of both workouts are increased.  I'm tired.

My time commitment has jumped from about 35 minutes each day to around an hour.  This really wouldn't be that big of deal, except that I've been working out in the evenings.  I'm a bit of a night owl and I can't seem to get my workout in before ten o'clock.  I should be doing it right after my son goes to bed at eight.  I can't quite seem to get myself to do it then, though I'm not sure why.  Anyway, I'm being a stay at home dad this summer and my wife is working at a hardware store.  My son is an early riser, usually 6:30 or so, but sometimes as early as 5.  I've been going to bed around 12:30 a.m.  Not much sleep time for Aaron.  I don't think I can sustain that for the rest of the summer.

On the bright side, I'm about half-way through my program, though I need to find one to do after this one is over that's a little shorter for when my schedule gets busy again when school starts.

Janet's Story

"The time has come," the Walrus said, "to talk of other things...." 

Just like millions of other people, I've always been at least husky, and lately, I'm overweight.  I managed to get out of Obeseland last summer when I got all of the baby weight off, but I'd still like to get to a healthier weight.  Just warning you, I'm not making fun of fat people.  I've almost always been one, and I have to find the funny side, or else I would cry.

Even as a grade schooler, I wanted so badly to be skinny like the other little girls.  They made fun of my identical twin and I a great deal, as were not only bigger than them, but my Mom made all of our clothes and I let my dad come up with my show-and-tell items.  "This is a model of a carbon dioxide molecule," I said in a little voice.  "Notice the single bond between the carbon and oxygen atoms...."  Looking back, I was a pretty normal size, but I didn't see it that way.  I saw my grandmother and mother struggle so much with their own weight that it was constantly on my mind.

My BMI was on the high side of the normal range all through junior high and high school, but the difference between me and my peers was even more obvious.  Gym class was hell.  It always made me achy to run, and I was so tight and uncoordinated.  In no other class do the teachers demand that you fail spectacularly in front of a crowd of kids who are sharpening their wits by coming up with devilishly wicked descriptors of your ineptitude.  Did someone write The Gym Bible and I missed the memo?  “Thou shalt maketh thy fat kids, nerds, and geeks climb ropes up to the heavens, for they shall be purified by humiliation.  Woe to ye who have mercy and pickest them for kickball first.  Thou shalt humble them by picking them last, lest they grow confident and sure and no longer help thee with thy math homework out of the vain hopes of making friends.  Yeah, though you tread through the valley of the shadow of obesity, thou shalt fear no doughnuts, for they have all been devoured by thy chubby ones.”

The pain that had been irksome in gym class began to spread and intensify in college.  First I lost the ability to tilt my head back.  Then my wrists and hands were painful.  I had sciatic nerve pain racing down my legs.  The muscles between my ribs would spasm so hard I couldn't breathe.  All this began while I was still a healthy weight, though, so I couldn't figure out what was going on.  I had tons of diagnoses:  TMJ, malformation of the spine, depression, anxiety, tendonitis, etc.  I was seeing a chiropractor, which helped, but the relief never lasted very long.  I was plagued by poor memory.

A few years and another surgery later, I'd had enough and went to see a spinal surgeon.  He said I was indeed deformed with a minor type of spina bifida, but I shouldn't even notice it.  He sent me to a rheumatologist.  Finally, I had a diagnosis that explained everything:  fibromyalgia. 

What's fibromyalgia?  It changes depending on who you ask.  Remember how achy and stiff your muscles felt when you had a very high fever?  That's how I always feel.  Medication helps, but doesn't keep me symptom-free.  I've been doing exercise programs for the last few years.  It's incredibly difficult.  If I do too much, I don't feel it for several hours, so I have no way of knowing at the time that I need to slow down or stop.  If I do too much for too long, I have what's called a flare, when the symptoms are so out of control that I can barely move.  Flares typically last a week or so, and it makes working as a general music teacher hell, especially since I have to travel to all of the teachers' rooms to have my classes.

I am able to do the Sculpt circuit on Power 90 without much difficulty because it is low or no impact.  I just have to be very careful with pushups to keep from flaring my shoulders.  The Cardio circuit is another thing all together.  Bouncing, especially side to side, sucks, so I ride a bike or go swimming on the cardio days.

It's hard, but it's worth it.  I'm not getting a dramatic transformation like Aaron, but I do feel better.  I'm so impatient to transform into the woman I want to be, and it can be very discouraging to make no progress.  So, if you're out there and struggling, I feel your pain.  I hope you can reach your goals, just like I hope to reach mine.

From the wisdom of magnets comes this thought

My good buddy Steve has a set of those refrigerator magnets that you can use to spell out different sentences and words.  His happens to be a troll word set.  My favorite saying that we wrote out was, "You Are Suck!"  That is totally how a feel right now.

My Celtic band had a gig tonight for a bunch of kids.  It was a ton of fun, but two other groups that were suppose to perform backed out at the last minute.  So we went from warm-up act to main event.  Normally, I'd be thrilled about that.  Not today though.  I failed to mention that this was an outside gig, on a baseball diamond, in 106 degree weather!  So we played for an hour non-stop in blazing sun without any shade.  Yeah, you are WAY SUCK!!  In the end we had a great time and the kids loved it, so I guess that's the most important thing.

It also meant we got home late and I hadn't done my daily workout yet, though I'd argue that playing an hour in intense heat was a workout.  I learned a valuable lesson in  sticking something out tonight.  It's now 11:30 at night and I just finished an hour of cardio.  UGH!!  Every core of my body said go to sleep and skip your workout.  But there was this one tiny little voice in the back of my head saying don't do it.  You're doing well, don't start slipping now.  Thank goodness that little voice won out.  I proved to myself tonight that I can do this even when it gets hard and I don't want to.  That being said, I probably didn't workout quite as hard as usual, but I did it.  That's all that matters at the moment.  "You Are Suck"; maybe, but not tonight.

Slight Change of Lingo

The Editor now controls the keyboard....BWAA-HAAA-HAAAAAA!

If you haven't already extrapolated it, the Editor is Janet, sometimes known as Mrs. Morgenstern, Mrs. M., or the Bringer of Anality.  Like Aaron, I'll be posting my story soon, but I had a quick, random thought while doing the Sculpting Circuit of Power 90.

I've been a lifelong recluse, book nerd, and annoying provider of random facts you'll never need, but I have never, not once, been a jock.  I've always been larger than the other girls my age, though not obese until I had my little boy, and the only thing I was good at in gym was body-checking the popular girls into the cinder block walls.  (Our gym teacher's motto was, "Make it bleed, Cupcake.")

After starting Power 90, terms like, "Bring it, foo!" "Boo-ya!" and "That's the way I roll," have been slipping into my vocabulary.  Is there something innate in exercise that makes those particular idioms make sense?  Who knows?  I hope I don't sound as stupid saying those things as I feel after the momentary rush of having cool lingo passes.

Aaron's Story

My name is Aaron Morgenstern, and I’m a 30-year-old music teacher in Billings Montana.  I’m married to a wonderful wife and we have a two-year-old son.  I play in two bands, one as a saxophonist in a ten-piece classic rock band, and as a guitarist in a Celtic/Bluegrass/Whatever-We-Want-To-Play band.  I also sing in a semi-professional vocal ensemble.  These three activities, being a father and husband, and my day job take up most of my time, much to the chagrin of my wife.

I have made very little time over the last eight years to take care of myself.  I wasn’t in great shape in college, but I was young enough to be able to rock climb on a regular basis and play ultimate frisbee with my friends twice a week, eat pizza, and still keep my weight reasonably low.

That all changed when I started my career.  Being a band director is a great job.  I love working with high school students, crazy, I know.  Unfortunately, music at the H.S. level is a HUGE time commitment.  It’s not uncommon for me to be to school by 7:30 in the morning and not get home until 10:30 or so in the evening.  Between concerts, pep band, and other music trips, the hours can be quite long.  I still love it, but it has caused me to pay very little attention to my health.

I weighed somewhere around 200 pounds when I started teaching.  This year, at the end of the school year, I tipped the scale at 230 pounds.  YIKES!  I didn’t feel all that well anymore, and when I would play ultimate frisbee or rock climb I could hardly move the next day.  There was also my my wife and son to consider.  Being a parent has completely changed my perspective on life.  I love being a father and I love my son.  I realized that if I didn’t do something now about my health, my son could potentially lose me to some horrible disease long before he should.  There is a strong history of type 2 diabetes on both sides of my family.

My wife has gently be prodding me to do something about my weight and health for several years.  (Ahem.  The Editor, I mean, wife, wasn't exactly gentle.)  My biggest excuse was not having the time to do it.  Sounds familiar, right?  My doctor has a great quote in his office:  “People who don’t make time for diet and exercise now will have to make time for illness later.”  That was me.  So, I finally decided to do something about it.

My sister in-law had a copy of Tony Horton’s Power 90 fitness program.  She lent it to me and I’ve been using it for about a month and a half now.  I was going to buy his P90X program, but it’s hard to say no to free.  I’ve actually been able to stick to it.  It was hard at first, I was a lot more out of shape than I thought I was.  I was pretty much constantly sore the first week.  I felt just like I did after I would go out a play a game of frisbee or some other physical activity.  But it kept getting better, each week I wouldn’t be quite as sore and I started to notice that I felt better.  I had more energy, which is good for keeping up with a two-year-old, and the workouts have gotten easier.

I’m not quite halfway through the program of 90 days, but, as of today, I weigh 215 pounds.  I’ve lost 15 pounds since June 8th.  I think that’s pretty good for 6 weeks of working out.  I still have a long way to go.  Figuring out how to keep healthy habits during the school year will be tricky between eating fast food on every pep band trip and trying to make time for workouts in an insane schedule.

But, I finally feel up to the challenge.  Getting in shape has become a bit of an obsession.  ("A bit?" the Editor asks, thick with sarcasm.)  My younger sister just ran a half-marathon.  I’m starting to think it might be possible for me to do that at some point in the future.  As of right now I’m very motivated and excited about how I’m feeling and starting to look.  Good luck to all of you on your own journeys.  Let me know how you are doing.