Yesterday morning, I had planned on an hour of yoga. I got out of bed, filled up my water glass, and sipped for a minute. Then, I climbed back under my covers and reset my alarm for 45 minutes later. [I used the other 15 to fold and put away laundry. Does anyone else hate doing that?]
Why did I blow off the morning sweat? Well, I was sore. Sore enough that on Monday, my quads were still burning while I was sitting at my desk, writing away the afternoon at work. Sore enough that I took the subway on a trip I would normally walk on Monday evening. Sore enough that I seriously considered popping some Advil on Tuesday morning. Sore. Seriously.
I happily took a day of rest on Tuesday, ready to wake up yesterday morning energized and eager to get back on the mat. Standing at my kitchen counter, I felt several muscle groups in my body still screaming, and I quickly changed my mind. My date with my mat would have to wait another day.
I no longer panic about taking extra days of rest. I’ve said before that I try hard not to equate the food I eat with the exercise I do, and that means skipping or shortening a yoga session should not affect how I go about my day.
Truthfully, I don’t think I could have developed this outlook if I hadn’t had to stop traditional cardio. Because though I often wish I didn’t, I know the calorie content of nearly every food in existence, and I also know how many calories I used to burn per mile running, on the elliptical, or on a bike. I was really good at math in school, and numbers stick in my head.
Yoga has helped me see exercise as a piece of a lifestyle, rather than a constant balance of addition and subtraction. Not only do I not have one clue how many calories I burn in a class, but I also don’t believe it matters. Yoga keeps my body going strong both on and off the mat – it forms a major part of what makes my life active, and that is far more important than counting any number. I’m no marathon runner or triathlete, so an obsession with perfecting the fuel equation just doesn’t apply.
I could go on [and often do] about how zen yoga makes me feel. But after this unintentional rest day, I’m excited to share something a bit more tangible.
The mat pictured above, along with the handy sport towel and rosin bag [to prevent slipping], is courtesy of a small company named Aurorae. I love their story: the company was founded by a cancer survivor whose life became enriched by yoga. There is no pretentiousness, no intensity in his tale – only a love for yoga and its effect on his life. He isn’t a yoga instructor or motivational guru – his products are simply meant for the basic, “everyday student.” That would be me.
Anyone who practices any form of exercise will tell you how important good equipment is. Mats that slide across the floor or flake away with every strike of a foot take a lot of joy out of a good yoga practice. So when I was given the opportunity to try out one of Aurorae’s mats, I jumped at the chance to finally enjoy a real, high-quality, yoga-specific tool.
I used it during the three classes that had me crippled earlier this week. I loved its extra-long length and heavier weight, which kept it from sliding whatsoever on the floor. It has great cushioning, and I’m a fan of the soothing pale violet color [each color is associated with a different relaxing meaning, which makes me smile]. My only complaint was that my hands slid a bit when I got very sweaty, and the rosin bag didn’t help too much. However, I laid the towel across the top of the mat, and that worked perfectly.
The generous people at Aurorae would like to extend this same gift to one of my lovely readers. I’m psyched, as I strongly believe everyone, regardless of skill level, gender, strength, or flexibility, can use a little [or a lot] yoga in their life. So, for a chance to win a mat, sport towel, and rosin bag:
- Leave a comment telling me a healthy piece of your lifestyle.
- If you’re a blogger, link back to this post for another entry [and comment to tell me you did].
- If you’re on Twitter, tweet about this post for another entry [and comment to tell me you did].
So if you’re connected through every form of social media, you can get three entries. 
You have until midnight next Friday, March 19th to enter. I’ll randomly pick a winner on Saturday morning. Good luck!
Whenever I’m in another person’s apartment [or house, condo, general abode], I am always a bit fascinated by the contents of their kitchen. I remember finding a jar of Peter Pan peanut butter in a friend’s pantry and thinking, “Oh. I forgot people still eat non-natural pb.” Another friend’s roommate had recently made the commitment to lose weight; yet I was still surprised when I found practically every Weight Watcher’s product in existence, from yogurts to individually wrapped brownies, inside her refrigerator’s door.
You can learn so much about people by what they keep on their shelves. Is she a snacker? A diet fiend? Does she order takeout every night? Does she eat breakfast each morning?
I’m relatively sure that visitors to my kitchen would be quick to realize I am both a health nut and a foodie. As my sister lives on a short list of essentials [pita, hummus, Fage, cereal, frozen blueberries] supplemented by whatever I cook or purchase, the refrigerator and cabinets are pretty much my domain. Here’s a peek inside the fridge:
I like to call this the oatmeal shelf, where essentials like almond butter, flax, and soy milk sit together, ready for their daily usage.
Down at the bottom is where the magic happens:
I love the day after I’ve done a grocery haul, when the fridge is just overflowing with produce.
This is the alternative PB&J zone: tahini, peanut butter, homemade pistachio-cashew butter, maple butter, raspberry preserves, strawberry preserves.
Greek yogurts get their own space – mine is the 2%, my sister’s is the zero. [As a side note, I recently spotted Fage 5% for the first time and had to try it: it was un.be.lievable.]
Beverages live at the top:
Yup, all we have is wine and water. Neither my sister nor myself have ever enjoyed soda, so aside from coffee and tea, it’s either hydrating H20 or a bottle of this goodness. [And this is just what's in the fridge: there is another area where we store all the red, plus backup white].
Plus a Costco-sized container of hummus and loads of tupperware from all the good cooking.
Unpictured, there are also various condiments with which I occasionally cook: miso, Bragg’s, dijon mustard, sesame oil, barbecue sauce. There is usually a carton of organic eggs, but we’re currently out. [Our fridge is not missing bread, by the way: it's in the freezer.]
I think this is a good reflection of my love of the basics, the real, and the homemade.
What’s in your refrigerator?
How beautiful was the weather this weekend? Fifties and sunny, I wore dresses and light jackets and went sock-free, and it was glorious.
I also repeatedly forgot my camera this weekend, which I suppose goes to show that sometimes, life is meant to be captured more by words than a camera lens.
So, a weekend of pluses and minuses, though happily more on the positive end.
Plus: Gazing at the gorgeous Alice in Wonderland costuming and coveting the red, white, and black dress. Also, sneaking nearly everything from the Whole Foods salad bar into the theater, along with a container of chocolate-coconut balls.
Minus: $14 movie tickets.
Plus: Unbelievable weather affording long random strolls around the city, just because.
Minus: Getting all excited to use my Groupon for half-off organic groceries with free delivery, only to discover that there are no delivery slots available until March 24th. Sometimes, New York makes me sad.
Plus: Girly catch-up over multiple glasses of grenache blanc at anotheroom, a dim little den that serves only wine and beer. Perfectly complemented by an evening that made me want to cool off with glasses of white.
Minus: Skip ahead if you are bored by yoga-speak: for some reason, my lower back is super tight, and it took me nearly half a class to manage to successfully arch into upward-facing dog. Forget about bow. Slightly pathetic yoga – though I did hang out in crow and an advanced tree arm balance for a while, so all was not lost.
Plus: Not wearing boots all weekend, for the first time since…November? My flats [however worn they may be] were so happy to see daylight.
Minus: Union Square Trader Joe’s on a Sunday at 5 PM. Thankfully, I had fabulous company to help ease the insanity.
 a vegetarian burrito with mole sauce, accompanied of course, by a mimosa.
Plus: Brunch at Crema, aka the classiest Mexican food I’ve ever had. Though they were out of the dish I originally wanted, I was quite happily stuffed by the meal’s end, and I may have stayed chatting with my brunch partner for an hour after our plates were cleared. I am so good at dining.
Plus: Sisterly commentary on the Oscar red carpet. [Plus: Rachel McAdams and Sandra Bullock. Minus: Zoe Saldana and Charlize Theron - which is sad, because I like Charlize.]
Happy Monday, everyone!
What were the pluses and minuses of your weekend?
Last weekend, I bought a bag of pistachios on a whim, and now I can’t seem to get enough of those little green guys. I’m particularly loving them with dried cherries in oatmeal, but they’ve been manifesting themselves in various ways in many of my recent meals.
One of those non-breakfast appearances was in this recipe, a spicy, almost raw pistachio-pea dip, which I recently whipped up for a quick and easy dinner. [Obviously, I modified the recipe, adding a bit extra lemon juice and cayenne and skipping the step of heating it up.] My only thought as I scraped the bowl of my food processor and licked the spatula: delicious.
I spooned half the batch into a little bowl and assembled what looked remarkably like a party platter.
 carrots, celery, cauliflower, kashi crackers, and a bowl of yummy green.
And then, I proceeded to devour it all. [Well, actually, it was more refined than that. I'm a pretty slow eater.]
Still, I got to thinking about the oddity of this meal. We’ve been so ingrained to envision our plates in a certain way: a protein, a carb, a vegetable, a fat. Though I haven’t relied on that philosophy of perfect balance in a long while, there does seem to be a general consensus on how a meal should look, whether it be a plate with all the elements or a one-dish salad or stew.
As time has gone on, I’ve bent my perception of what constitutes a meal, partially as a result of the increased creativity inspired by my vegan leanings. I think it’s actually easier to eat boring meals when they are carnivorous – when I began relying on vegetables, I suddenly felt a world of non-traditional possibilities open up.
That’s how I ended up surrounding a delicious, dense dip with raw vegetables and whole grain crackers and digging in, sans fork or spoon, for dinner. This meal had all the components that a normal one would have; it just looked a little different.
Variety is the spice of life, right? That certainly applies each time I assemble food on my plates.
What makes up a dinner for you? Have the elements changed over time?
Over the weekend, I made my weekly trek to Trader Joe’s, withstanding the crowds and fifty-plus person checkout lines for those can’t be beaten prices. I’m a dedicated bargain hunter, clearly.
The concept of heading to TJ’s and leisurely browsing is entirely foreign to me. I can’t enter those doors without a detailed list and a specific mission. I know exactly where the goods I need live, and I pick up most of them while standing in the line that snakes around the outer aisles. I think the Union Square store gives new meaning to that health adage of “shopping the perimeter.”
This week, one of the items on my list was coconut milk. Sure, in an ideal world I would buy fresh young coconuts whenever I desired, but with hefty price tags, not to mention the involved task of cracking one open, sometimes you’ve got to go with the easy, shelf-stable kind. I’ll be the first to admit that I am imperfect in eating 100% fresh foods.
At TJ’s, I asked a Hawaiian-clothed employee where I could find a coconut can. I ditched the line for a moment, and I came upon this:
 why, trader joe? why?
The only option: light coconut milk.
This gets me in the same way that Better ‘N Peanut Butter and Slimcados do. Why mess with a perfectly natural thing? And worse, why offer only the fake version?
What’s a purist to do? I didn’t want to have to go to a third grocery store [I had already done my produce run just before]. I really wanted to make some coconut rice this week. The ingredients were fine [just coconut milk and water, so I suppose it was made "light" as a result of being diluted].
So I bought it. I put it on my pantry shelf, and every time I have opened that door this week, it has annoyed me.
 a complete meal: veganomicon tamarind lentils+swiss chard, coconut kasha, steamed asparagus [$1.99/lb - spring must be on its way!]
I know it’s a far-fetched dream to live in a society [especially this country] that is free of all diet products. But still, I can’t help but feel frustration for those of us who freely enjoy real, unadulterated food, as we are constantly plagued by watered down, light versions of foods that are perfectly fine as they are.
I never ate much in the way of diet products. The few fake replacements I did at one point choose are long gone from my life – Splenda, earth balance, egg whites, for instance. I happily choose natural sweeteners and basic, organic butter when the need arises.
I still got my coconut rice, but my faith in Trader Joe’s is just a little bit shaken.
coconut-pistachio kasha [for one]
- 1/4 c uncooked kasha
- 1/2 c coconut milk
- 1/4 c water
- 1/4 t coriander
- 1/8 t ground cardamom
- 2 T raisins
- 1 t lemon zest
- 1 T unshelled, unsalted pistachios
Bring coconut milk and water to a boil in small saucepan. Add kasha, coriander, cardamom, and raisins. Return to a boil; lower heat and simmer, covered, 10 minutes, until liquid has been absorbed. Remove from heat and stir in lemon zest and pistachios.
Light milk or not, this meal took me away to a sweet and savory world of Asian taste. There is something so wonderful about traveling through flavor, about bringing another culture into your life through the plate in front of you.
Although, I have to say, had I made this in India, I can guarantee light coconut milk would never have been an option. I suppose that next time, I’ll simply have to crack open a real coconut myself.
Were you ever an aficionado of “light” products? How do you feel about them now?
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about. my name is leslie, and i'm navigating twentysomething life one meal at a time. the whole plate chronicles my love for fresh foods, a positive body image, and a balanced life. thanks for stopping by!
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