How Noah's Ark came to play on Thanksgiving day...

Last night I glanced at myself in the mirror as I was sleepily undressed. I often take a visual assessment of my body when presented with the opportunity to do so; nude, alone with a mirror and forgiving light. I murmured to myself, "not bad for 48years old, good muscle tone, no stretch marks and boobs are still up where they should be." All this considering, two 50+ pound pregnancies and giving birth to part Sumo babies via C-sections. The only interventions I've had over the years, have been my passion for exercise, laughter and maybe some good genes.

"Note to self: Need to hit those pesky lats a bit harder, could always use more cardio, perhaps, a triathlon is in order."

This visual scrutiny set off a mental inventory of what I had consumed throughout the last 24 hours of this Thanksgiving holiday. I've never been a big eater and seldom overeat, I simply eat to survive and would be perfectly happy if they developed a full day's supply of meals in pill form. However, I do enjoy those nostalgic tastes of the holidays, which trigger certain memories from the past. There's eggnog, for instance, I love to knock a few back during the holidays. The best and only "homemade" eggnog I've ever had was made by some good friends, it was my first Married Christmas in 1992. That eggnog was so sinfully good, probably jacked my cholesterol count up 10 points just by touching my lips, but worth it!

Pumpkin pie is another trigger for me. I like it warm, with a mountain of whipping cream. Memories of pumpkin pie go back as far as I can remember.

Back to my food inventory...I consumed two small glasses of (alcohol free) pumpkin eggnog (which was to stave off the overwhelming craving for pumpkin pie that I experienced before dinner). After a normal sized dinner that I actually didn't finish, I had that piece of pumpkin pie with that mountain of whip cream. Ah, the day was complete.

"Am I the only one that loves leftovers?" Throwing together a rerun of last night's dinner in minutes, is almost like someone else prepared it for you (in my strange way of thinking). After the leftover lunch, my daughter helped herself to the banana cream pie she had helped her father prepare, this triggered my need for just one more piece of pumpkin pie.

Thinking through my itemized list of indulgences: 2 eggnogs, 2 pieces of pie with mountains of whipped cream and 2 glasses of wine. Interesting (but not "odd"), how everything came in twos? Now as I'm brushing my teeth, the Noah's Ark song pops in my head. You know the one, "the animals, they came on, they came on by twozie, twozies...elephants and kangaroozies..." My mind suddenly flashed back to summer camp where that song and others echoed loudly from the mess hall (and yes, I remember the lyrics to most). Ah, good times...

Now laying in bed with the Noah's Ark song playing through my head, I attempt sleep. When my eyes shut, a vision of two slices of smiling pumpkin pie boarding the ark, followed by two dancing wine glasses with sexy legs, eggnog pulling up the rear, all in sync with the music...ugh, enough! Time to turn off the music, and switch thoughts. "Let's see, exercise...I can counteract the music and dancing food, with thoughts of exercise." I normally avoid this practice, as it always brings up my heart rate and is not conducive to sleep. However, I needed something powerful to kill this ongoing Looney Tunes production. I began envisioning myself teaching my Stroller Strides class, I suddenly snickered, "OMG, it's another twozie...I teach classes every Tuesday (Twozday?) and Thursday at the Carbondale Recreation Center." The music started playing again, only this time, my imagination threw in a double vision of myself. There I was (x2, scary thought, I know), following the dancing food, pushing my BOB stroller up the ramp whilst performing walking lunges (in perfect form, may I add).

Wow! I began to question just what I did consume to trigger these thoughts. Perhaps, personal training and group exercise wasn't my calling after all, fitting in better with the gang over at Pixar, or Disney at the very least?

I eventually did get to sleep last night, and slept soundly after the Ark had finally set sail.

I awoke today, thankful for a healthy life, good memories, a vivid imagination, a career in fitness and the happiness it gives me to share all of these with you...

The New Survivor (Dad's Edition)

THE NEXT SURVIVOR SERIES

Six married men will be dropped on an island with one car and 3 kids each for six weeks. Each kid will play two sports and either take music or dance classes. There is no fast food. Each man must take care of his 3 kids; keep his assigned house clean, correct all homework, and complete science projects, cook, do laundry,and pay a list of 'pretend' bills with not enough money. In addition, each man will have to budget in money for groceries each week. Each man must remember the birthdays of all their friends and relatives, and send cards out on time. Each man must also take each child to a doctor's appointment, a dentist appointment and a haircut appointment. He must make one unscheduled and inconvenient visit per child to the Urgent Care. He must also make cookies or cupcakes for a social function. Each man will be responsible for decorating his own assigned house, planting flowers outside and keeping it presentable at all times. The men will only have access to television when the kids are asleep and all chores are done. The men must shave their legs, wear makeup daily, adorn himself with jewelry, wear uncomfortable yet stylish shoes, keep fingernails polished and eyebrows groomed. During one of the six weeks, the men will have to endure severe abdominal cramps, back aches, and have extreme, unexplained mood swings but never once complain or slow down from other duties. They must attend weekly school meetings, church, and find time at least once to spend the afternoon at the park or a similar setting. They will need to read a book and then pray with the children each night and in the morning, feed them, dress them, brush their teeth and comb their hair by 7:00 am. A test will be given at the end of the six weeks, and each father will be required to know all of the following information: each child's birthday, height, weight, shoe size, clothes size and doctor's name. Also the child's weight at birth, length, time of birth, and length of labor, each child's favorite color, middle name, favorite snack, favorite song, favorite drink, favorite toy, biggest fear and what they want to be when they grow up. The kids vote them off the island based on performance. The last man wins only if...he still has enough energy to be intimate with his spouse at a moment's notice. If the last man does win, he can play the game over and over and over again for the next 18-25 years eventually earning the right to be called Mother! After you get done laughing, send this to as many females as you think will get a kick out of it and as many men as you think can handle it. Just don't send it back to me. ... I'm going to bed!

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