Archive for March, 2010


(FTC disclosure. POM Wonderful sent me a free case of POM Wonderful 100% Pure Pomegranate Juice. They have not asked me to review or blog about the product, nor do I receive any compensation for doing so.)

So the nice people at POM Wonderful sent me a case of POM Pomegranate juice to try! First things first, the bottles are adorable, aren’t they?

I like to envision that one is a boy and one is a girl and they’re all “Hi babe-eh.”

The first thing I did was take a look at the provided health benefits of the POM juice and learned that red wine has the second highest antioxidant potency POMĀ  has uniquely high levels of powerful antioxidants. I LOVE ANTIOXIDANTS!!

I love this information!! THANKS POM!! (source: POM’s site)

The next thing I did was take a sip and find that it is really tasty stuff. Really tasty like I could just chug a bottle in a couple of seconds. Which is why I don’t drink a lot of juice because I could easily consume a few hundred extra calories in a day just drinking delicious, healthy juice. So I did this:

I do this sometimes with Cranberry juice, too. It’s good for your bladder. Real cranberry juice, not the sugary 5% juice crap.

Yes, I drink out of big, plastic cups. And I don’t like ice in my drinks. Now you know. When I come to your house and accept your offer for a glass of water, I expect it to come in a big, plastic cup with no ice.

Then, while I was enjoying my carbonated POM juice and seltzer drink I went to the website and learned that POM is, like, really healthy. And I tried really, really hard to read that whole page but then I got distracted by all those studies and then decided to do this:

I r not Chuck! I. R. NOT. CHUCK!!!!!

Then it was dinner time so I went and made a salad with Pomegranate Vinaigrette and I was all excited to share my recipe with you until I looked a little harder and found that POM already did that. And a bit more. So, whatever. I’m not the first person to think of making a POM salad dressing. La dee da. But you know I will find a recipe that they HAVEN’T made, and then I’ll MAKE it, and then I’ll share it.

And you’ll all be impressed, won’t you?


He Said Girly Like It Was An Insult

"I typed mine."

"Typing your bracket is girly."

"Typing my bracket makes it look NEAT."

I meant neat as in tidy, not neat as in "neat-o", just in case you weren’t sure.

Oh Summit Trainer, You Have Much To Learn About Me

Last week I mentioned the evil, hateful machine that had me gasping after 10 whopping minutes. Turns out it’s a LifeFitness Summit Trainer. I wasn’t worried about the fact that it burned me in so little time, the step mill did the same thing the first time I got on it.

The cruelty of this machine is that the motion is step-like, similar to a stepmill, but there is no momentum, like the elliptical. If you don’t move the machine doesn’t move so the motion is initiated by your legs. Your very sad, unhappy legs.

After my chest/back workout last night I had my sights set on sweaty, heart thumpy, air gaspy cardio. I headed to the cardio room, pointed a fan at me (highly recommended), and bitch slapped that Summit Trainer for 40 minutes.

I am so earning my one Guinness tomorrow night.

I Don’t Want To Give It Away, But This Is Funny Stuff

Now what kind of blogger would I be if I kept the really funny, mildly embarrassing stuff from you?

For Valentine’s Day HP got me a gift certificate to get a one hour massage. A massage! That I didn’t have to pay for! It was a pretty damn good Valentine’s gift. I made my appointment for Saturday and trekked out in the rain for a morning of relaxation under the hands of a total stranger.

Now I wouldn’t say that I’m a massage expert or anything. I’ve only had a handful of professional massages in my life but they’ve all been pretty similar in set up and execution: Masseuse shows you room, leaves room so you can undress, you undress and get under sheet, get massaged.

Right? Have you had other experiences? Perhaps like the one I had on Saturday? It went like this:

The masseuse showed me the room. It was a really small room. I’m not being judgmental, it was just smaller than any other room in which I’ve been massaged. She indicated a shelf where I would put my clothes and then said that the robes were on the back of the door and she’d be back shortly.

It didn’t occur to me until I was undressed but – robe? What for? And then I looked at the massage table and saw that there was no top sheet. Soooo…. ?? I didn’t know what to make of it.

I looked on the back of the door and saw a couple of towels and then a robe. Ish. Sort of. It was actually a hospital gown. But, um, ok. So I put it on just as I heard her light knock at the door, checking to see if I was ready for her.

Leaning my head out the door while hiding my body behind it I asked her, “uh, is this right? Does the, um, flap go on the back?”

I’m pretty sure she wanted to bust out laughing when she said, “Oh! That is a gown for Colonics.”


I defended myself with, “Oh, well I was confused. I’m not used to a robe I’m used to a sheet on the table, and there’s no sheet so…”

“Oh a sheet! Yes, we can do that!” She laid a sheet over the table and I awkwardly positioned my naked self under it.

All the awkward melted away (for now) (foreshadowing!) as she massaged my head, neck, back and legs. Aaahhhhh maaasssaaaaaage. It was a good massage, similar to any other massage I’ve gotten before.

When it was time to flip she quietly – so as to not disrupt the earth sounds in the CD player or waft the incense – told me about the lotions she was using. This one has a light exfoliant, and this one is firming. It took a nanosecond for me to envision my thighs in her hands and I feebly apologized, “I’m sorry you have to touch my cellulite.”

She – quietly again – giggled and assured me that I have very little cellulite (Oh I bet you say that to all the girls!)

“No, you have very, very little! Whatever’s in your head, it’s not like that in reality. But I use this firming cream and you won’t see it at all, it’s lifting and tightening, I use it on your breasts as well.”


I’ll admit that I kinda lost my zen at that point. My breasts? She’ll use it on my breasts? Is that what she said? Or did she say “You can use it on your breasts”?

She went on to massage my feet, my quads, my arms. And then down came the sheet and she massaged my stomach (!!) and, wouldn’t you know it, that girl stood above me and made large swooping motions, and massaged my boobs.

I guess she wasn’t so much massaging them as lifting them. She never touched my nipple or areola at all, just the breast tissue. But still. Imagine laying on your back with someone standing by your head and then taking the palms of their hands and just lifting your boobs up.

Over and over again.

In my younger years I would have been terribly embarrassed, uncomfortable, and totally freaked out. I would have died when I accidentally put on a Colonics robe, or shriveled when she giggled at me, and I would have just laid there in fear when she pulled down the sheet. But, you know what? There’s no way I could have known what the robe was for, or what her process is, and she certainly didn’t touch me inappropriately (albeit, a bit oddly). All I could think about while I relaxed and enjoyed the rest of my rub down (post boob), was “Damn this is good blog fodder.”

Were You Hoping For More Poor Quality Food Pics?

Well good news for you then! I am madly in love with my Cherry Oat Muffin Thingys, although next week I might skip the fruit just to dab into the world of lowering calories. For maintenance, however, I totally dig the cherries.

Since returning from the Great Chocolate Debacle of Irish Wake 2010 I’m at 3 days, 3 workouts, 6 salads, 0 drinks. I know some people really can’t fathom the idea of eating the same thing every day but I just enjoy it so!

Do you know what else I enjoy? Homemade salad dressing! Maybe this weekend when I make a few batches I’ll share my concoctions. They are nothing fancy, but I like them a helluva lot better than the bottled stuff.

Do you know what I don’t enjoy? This new contraption at the gym that is some kind of hybrid of a stepmill and an elliptical machine. Kind of. I don’t know exactly what it is except to say that it’s a terrible, terrible invention. Heinous, really. Evil. My goal on Sunday is to get through 20 minutes of it after my leg workout and I have to say I’m not looking forward to it.

I guess at some point I should weigh myself, or take some measurements or something so I can track my progress. That sounds highly undesirable, so I think I’ll just keep trying to cram my thighs into my jeans and when they zip up comfortably I’ll know I achieved my Rad. Also at that time? Be prepared for gloating, air high fiving, and possibly tears of joy.

And a very large glass of wine.

Oh, You Wanted A Picture Of My Salad? Ok!

I managed to go halvies on cardio yesterday: half walking on 10″% incline @ 4mph and half jogging at a tortoisey 5mph. Today I feel pretty good though, so I should be back to HIIT.

What’s that? You want to hear more about this delicious looking salad? Well ok!

That there is a little shredded romaine, shredded zucchini, shredded carrots, chopped tomato, sliced radishes, sliced beets with a couple spoonfuls of leftover beans and covered in homemade goddess dressing. ‘Tis marvelous.

I wanted fresh beets, but they looked really small and extra dirty at my store, so I went with canned. I don’t mind the canned, they’re pretty tasty.

I’m a big fan of visualization when I work out. Do you guys do that? What do you envision? Right now my big day dream is fourth of July. I keep picturing myself in a bathing suit on the boat or wearing shorts watching fireworks. It’s pretty effective.

Do You Know What That Means?

Do you know what five days of emotionally draining travel will do for you? It will make you fucking tired, that’s what.

I think I managed to eat my weight in junk although I didn’t really drink much. Actually I think I had four drinks, total, the entire time we were gone. But, uh, there was a pastry chef? Who’s a close friend of the family? Who made homemade dark chocolates? AND THEN FORCE FED THEM TO ME I SHOULD TOTALLY PRESS CHARGES.

Antioxidants anyone? Yeah, I didn’t think so.

So today I more than thoroughly enjoyed my Cherry Crunch Oat Muffins (I skipped the Fiber One to keep it truly less processed and subbed one cup of almond milk for one cup of the egg whites cuz I felt like it) and had a big salad for lunch consisting of shredded carrots, shredded zucchini, sliced radishes and chopped tomatoes covered in homemade goddess dressing. Tonight I’m having a big salad for dinner with homemade orange vinaigrette. I plan on more of the same all week.

That part is easy. The food part, I mean. I still have to go work out. But, like, ohmygod I’m so tired. So I’m heading downstairs right now, right this second so I don’t back out, getting on the treadmill, cranking the incline and just walking at 4.0mph for 45 minutes. I think that’s all I’ve got in me.

And hey, at least I can watch the Food Network while I do it.



Amyella (pronounced Amy-ella) is a pseudonym for Amy Levitt, a fitness and health food fanatic and a beach girl at heart. She has been sharing her sometimes nonsensical thoughts and self-amusing stories online since 2002 and currently spends a good deal of her time wrangling her 90 pound Rottweiler and 60 pound Boxer. Which is quite a show.
The origin of the name Amyella.

Here's my deal. It's wicked exciting!


Find the recipes here: Amyella's Recipes
Fitness Training Log

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