I gain .00001 pound every few minutes

My dad once sent me a scientific study that proved it was possible to gain weight without eating anything. (And he wasn't reading the National Enquirer, either.) Apparently, merely smelling something delectable -- baked goods, cheese, even a fragrance as mild as jelly beans -- triggered a physical response in the body, and the chemicals it produced added a fraction of a pound each time these pleasure centers were activated. I filed this information in my "Why the Universe is Unfair" folder, but I thought of it again this morning while I was getting a coffee that I could nurse through a three-hour interview. I swear I could smell the baked goods at Caribou through the glass case. (OK, no more italics.) I must have been hallucinating. I have been staying away from such things for the last week, save for one chocolate croissant, and these were probably withdrawal symptoms. And while I know I would have to sniff about 100,000 croissants to gain a pound, there seems something perverse about this kind of cruel chemistry.

Calf-roping, sorta like

Ellyn Ritterskamp:

My calf muscles were so tight I was almost afraid to go to sleep. I wake up most nights with horrible cramps in my legs anyway (I know I need more potassium), and this seemed like a sure recipe for more.

And then I found some calf stretches to do against the wall, and now I'm not afraid to snooze.

Crazy easy, these internets.

Onward.

What's your go-to snack food?

Elizabeth Templin McCamic

I'm not sure I can eat another carrot.

There. I said it. I really needed to get that off my chest.

Is anyone else ready for all the fresh fruit and vegetables that come with spring and summer? I am. We've been eating a lot of soup, chili and vegetables like cabbage, cauliflower and broccoli this winter.

I'm ready for strawberries, blueberries, watermelon, nectarines and tomatoes. I am craving snap beans, squash and okra - all those foods that are best eaten fresh from the ground.

In the meantime, I'm looking for healthy snack ideas, especially things that might travel well to and from work or that I could have ready to eat at my house after a long run.

I try not to snack much, but when hunger hits me it's nice to have a healthy option on hand.

Jews and Italians

Lawrence Toppman:

I realized over the weekend that my love of things bad for me comes partly from childhood, which I spent at the intersection of two of the most food-centric ethnic groups on Earth.

My father's family was Jewish, and my best friend's family was Italian. (My mother's family was mostly of English descent. The English are to fine cuisine what Paraguay is to Major League Baseball. Only in my 30s did I learn that my mother's dad was French, but he split too early to leave any culinary impression.)

Both of those cultures fight depression and settle problems by eating. Can't get a date? Ess, ess mein kind! Having difficulties in school? Eh, paisan, some fettucini carbonara! My house and my friend Nick's always smell of food in my memory, which translated to the smell of happiness.

I thought about that while the gloomy weekend dragged on. The gray skies seemed to say, "Wouldn't a pumpkin cookie cheer you up? Hey, those bananas are getting old: Find some vanilla wafers and make a pudding!" I covered my ears, psychologically speaking, and had navy bean soup instead. Result: Half a pound lost last week. Back down to 190.

The impossible dream

Lawrence Toppman:

Things that don't exist, never did and never will: El Dorado, Atlantis, world peace and (most importantly, now that I'm hungry again) the perfect food.

By this I mean something that 1) I could eat in reasonably large quantities with no harm to my waistline and 2) I can find easily and 3) tastes delicious and does not cloy the appetite. Really, I think such a thing is a chimera. Blueberries come closest for me, but -- no, not perfect.

One can eat 3-ounce portions of almost anything alluring, but I'm still hungry at the end, and my taste buds scream for more. I can stuff myself on things I like in small quantities (carrots, oatmeal, apples), but I get tired of those after a few days. I have bent my mind to this problem while walking the inescapable treadmill, but without success.

Why didn't God or Nature (or whatever force you'd name) make Brussels sprouts as delicious as chocolate mousse, or pumpkin scones as nutritious as broccoli? The day I learn the answer to that, I'll expect to find a leprechaun at the end of the rainbow in my back yard.

Dressing around the trouble spots

Ellyn Ritterskamp

I just read a book about how to dress around your trouble spots. It made me realize we can still buy nice clothes now, and not wait for the day down the road when everything is just right. Wearing baggy clothes just makes us look baggy.

So today, I am going to get a proper bra fitting (they say 80% of American women wear the wrong size, as we should be refitted every so often) and find some nice pants that fit. I will still lift weights and walk, but there's no reason to wait for weight loss to have clothes that look good.

We will give the guys a pass on the bra fitting. Most of them.

Onward.

Taking that first step is often the hardest part of working out

Elizabeth Templin McCamic

After a little time off, I had to get back to my running schedule last week. It was hard to get back into it after a few days off, but my legs seemed to remember how to run.

It just took me a while to get myself out there again. I spent much of last week feeling tired and a little under the weather. I'd come home from work and feel much more inclined to rest or nap than throw on my running gear and head outside.

Sometimes the hardest part of working out for me is taking that first step. It can be so hard to stay motivated and do what I know is good for me rather than do what I'm more inclined to do (which is curl up with a book or movie in my cozy living room). The internal debate process can be exhausting. Then, after I've thought through all the pros and cons, I'm worn out just from thinking about going for a workout.

I finally went to the gym for a short four-mile run on Wednesday. Then I didn't run again until the weekend, when I finally (FINALLY) made myself take this training seriously again.

And, of course, my 10-mile run wasn't nearly as bad as I'd feared it would be. I started hurting a little around mile seven, but by then I only had three miles to go (I can do anything for the time it takes me to run three miles, I thought). I pushed through, went home, stretched and hydrated. And I feel ready to go for the week.

I'll be out of town again this weekend and out of my normal routine. I'm hoping to dive right back in when I return and not put it off for so long. I really don't have that much time to spare between now and race day.