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Watching what I eat

01.25.2009 by Ray Niekamp // 5 Comments

bacon-cheeseburger-friesNutrition is a topic that has never interested me. I eat what I like, pretty much, and have been lucky because not only is Mrs. Noob an excellent cook, but she does pay attention to nutrition, and cooks healthy meals. So my weight has never been the problem that it could be. I’m just heavy.

But I’m at the point where I’ve decided that watching what I eat has to be an integral part of my overall fitness regime. I jogged for 28 years before my knees gave out and I took up biking. During that time pounding the pavement, I learned that it doesn’t matter how much you exercise, if you eat like a pig, you’ll still gain weight.

My weight is probably 30 pounds higher than it should be. I can’t seem to crack the 200-pound threshold, although I came close while training for the century last summer.

The problem is, that in my late 50s, I need to bring down my weight. I’m already taking pills for high blood pressure and high cholesterol. I know that if I embark on a regular exercise program — not just riding the bike when I feel like it, and the weather looks good — I will be able to bring those things back to their normal levels. What’s sad is, I’ve done it before, and then backslid.

Lately, I’m getting inspiration from my son. He’s set himself a goal of losing 150 pounds, and has already lost 60. He combines daily workouts with careful eating habits, and aims to drop only a couple of pounds each week. It’s working for him. Now, if I really put my mind and effort to it, maybe it can work for me, too.

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Categories // fitness Tags // food, weight

Spin class

02.26.2008 by Ray Niekamp // Leave a Comment

If it’s up to me, I’d rather ride. But when the weather turns sour, an alternative is called for.

Two weekends ago, Saturday morning dawned with a downpour. I wasn’t going to be able to get out on the bike at all. But my wife recently joined a high-end fitness club, and she invited me to use one of her guest passes to come to a spinning class.

I wanted to see the inside of the club, so I agreed. Quite the place. I got a locker in a very posh locker room, and changed into cycling shorts and a jersey. Most spinners wear padded cycling shorts – something I didn’t know. The “spinning studio” is on an upstairs level, with dark wood floors and subdued lighting. The instructor recognized that I was not a regular, and came over to make sure I fitted the “bike” correctly.

A spinning bike is not like the exercycles you might find in the same workout room as the stairclimbers. These put you in a riding position closer to what you would find on a road bike. You can increase and decrease resistance by turning a knob, if you want to create the sense that you’re climbing hills.

The room filled quickly. Of the 40 bikes, about 35 were taken. An older gentleman in full team kit took the bike next to mine, and started spinning slowly. The instructor encouraged everyone to spin easily, to warm up before class.

My wife made it a point to get me two earplugs. She said I’d need them when class began. As usual, she was right. The instructor plugged her iPod into the sound system next to her bike, and cranked it up. Throbbing techno music blasted from speakers throughout the room. The sound was so clear, I had to check several times to make sure my earplugs were actually holding.

The instructor said she was going to tax our anaerobic thresholds, and leave us gasping. We started pedaling faster. I was sweating in no time. She told us to back off, spin easily for a minute, then she hammered down. We cranked up the resistance, we stood up on the pedals. The gentleman who had started slowly next to me was pumping like crazy – going faster than the pace the instructor set. I plopped back into my saddle. “Don’t you dare back off!” she yelled, pointing at me.

That’s pretty much how the rest of the session went. A series of mad dashes and gasping easy periods. When it was over, I was soaked through. We sprayed disinfectant on the bikes and toweled them off. It wasn’t biking, but I thought it would be a useful substitute if the weather failed to cooperate in the future.

Downstairs, I spent ten minutes in the steam room, followed by a cold shower – then a Mediterranean breakfast in the club’s cafe. I suppose fitness clubs do have something to offer. I’ll have to have my wife get more guest passes.

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