I would have posted earlier, but I got to laughing hysterically at Stephen Colbert’s bit about Sarah Palin’s Paul Revere ramble. I’m going to count it as my core workout. I think I’ll be sore in the morning. I’ve been running around like a nut for the last 48 hours, so I’m just catching up on all the revisionist history and lewd tweet news.
I drove up to Austin yesterday and sat in this:
It’s called a Bod Pod and I was wearing my bathing suit and this lovely cap when I was shut inside.
How I came to be sitting undressed in an egg-shaped spaceship is surprisingly straightforward. My friend Meredith Terranova is a talented nutritionist in Austin. And when she read about my adventures in Vitamin D deficiency, she kindly offered to hold my hand nutritionally for a while. I am very grateful for the extra scrutiny and feedback.
In any event, Meredith worked some magic and arranged for me to get my resting metabolic rate and my body fat measured. The Bod Pod (Bod Pod!!!) calculated my fat poundage. The little girl who worked the instruments said she wasn’t sure exactly how the contraption worked. “It has something to do with air pressure and muscle density.” I haven’t had a chance to look up a more detailed explanation. The test itself was anticlimactic, just some quiet whirring noises for a minute or so. Then I was dressed and headed into another little room. A young fellow told me to lie down on a table and then left the room. Lights off. Now I’ve never had my resting metabolic rate measured, and I felt a bit awkward lying there with no idea what might happen next. I thought about how I should have made time to research resting metabolic rate testing. Then I thought about how strange the dimensions of the room were. It must have measured something like 7 feet by 25 feet. There wasn’t any furniture besides the table I was lying on, and I had just gotten around to thinking about how it would have been almost impossible to get a couch and chairs in there when the guy came back and put a plastic hood over my head. It was dark, but it seemed like there was a hard plastic face shield with a hose coming out of it surrounded by soft plastic that was tucked under my upper torso. Young Fellow told me to relax for the next 20 minutes. “Try not to go to sleep. But don’t do any math problems in your head either.” And he left. I spent the next 20 minutes trying to ignore the addition and multiplication problems that kept coming to mind.
Meredith and I left with all the numbers and percentages and headed to a Whole Foods where I stuffed myself silly. I’d been fasting since breakfast and it was 5pm. (Sorry family budget.) We talked until there wasn’t any traffic left between Austin and San Antonio. And it looks like a big piece of the Vitamin D deficiency was my fat intake. Yes, I was probably not eating enough fat. Un-American. Paul Revere would shake one of his bells at me I’m sure — because I’ve been told this before. I was working so hard to get the carbs, proteins, and calories right, that I ignored my friend Fat. And, of course, Vitamin D is a fat soluble vitamin. Well, shoot. Guess I can start using sunscreen again at least.