'Language, for traditionally oral peoples, is not a specific human possession,
but is a property of the animate earth, in which we humans participate.'  
David Abram, Becoming Animal: An Earthly Cosmology

On a bright, sunny Sunday, the crisper, cooler weather enticed my fiancé, Rodney, and me outside to play.

Last weekend we took to the trails at the Celery Farm nature preserve, a 107-acre freshwater wetland in Allendale, N.J. (he’s a New Jerseyan by way of Brooklyn, and the outing was his idea). We walked for an hour or so in the late summer sun, climbing observation towers and checking out the chipmunks and butterflies scurrying here and there, and the turtles, herons, and mallards hanging out on Lake Appert. We also took more than a few self-ies (or us-ies, depending on your perspective). And we stopped to listen

When was the last time you actually listened to a forest, or a meadow or a field? Listened to the trees shhh-shhhing? The crickets sceeting? The hawks cawing? The earth breathing? You have to be still to hear, and it’s worth being still because they have so much to say.

Yes, we boosted our vitamin D from time in the sun, we upped our heart rate by ambling over roots, twigs and stones; and we spent good time enjoying each other’s company.

We also connected with the universe. Being outside, surrounded by nature, makes me feel grateful to be alive, and humbled to be a small part of this never-ending cycle of birth, life, and death. It reminds me of how we humans are but bit players on this broad stage of species; in our absence the show definitely will go on. I appreciate my time here, my place in this space, and my fellow inhabitants, and I leave de-stressed, and with my head cleared of cobwebs of less important things.  

As a city girl, I don’t venture outdoors enough. My idea of getting out usually is a walk along the Hudson River and a jog around my Harlem neighborhood track. That’s good, but it's not exactly connecting with the universe.

If doctors prescribed an escape to the park, to a trail, or even to a community garden, we’d all be better off for having stopped to listen and cultivate a closer, more meaningful relationship with nature, with the universe and with ourselves. Of the three, we humans stand to benefit most of all.

On our way back to his home, Rodney and I stopped at a farmer’s market to pick up ingredients for that night’s dinner (grilled chicken legs and thighs, summer corn salad, Greek salad and garlicky guacamole). As we headed to my home in the city later that night, I wondered what the herons and mallards were saying, and looked forward to returning to hear them again. 

I’m studying health in a graduate program where we work on campus one week of the semester – “in residency” – and then the rest of the time from home. In mid-February, I was in residency at Goddard College’s bucolic campus in the heart of Vermont.

Suffice it to say that they eat differently up there at Goddard, especially compared with my culinary experience in undergraduate school. No greasy pizza, no fried potatoes or piles of pasta, and thank goodness, no “mystery meat.”

Most dishes were smart, simple preparations of meats, whole grains, and whole, fresh vegetables.

My lunch one day was a tender miso-ginger infused baked cod with a shredded-carrot-topped kale salad. Dinner one night: curried tofu and chickpeas and carrots, a gorgeous green salad with beets and apple slices, and chunks of honeydew and cantaloupe mixed with cilantro and feta.

I’d never tried curried tofu, nor a melon-feta salad. And while there were some standbys that I recognized (grilled chicken breast, roasted carrots), I took advantage of the variety and stepped out of my culinary comfort zone to try something different, like sauteed rainbow Swiss chard and roasted Brussels sprouts with my quinoa and chicken.

Each dish opened my eyes (and other senses too) and made me eager to taste new flavors and combinations of foods. And boy did I taste. I filled my plates and left each meal full and satisfied (topped off by decadent desserts). I had enough energy for late-night studying and early-morning workshops, and when I came home at the end of the week, my scale showed that this way of clean eating agreed with me.

Paul Somerset, the campus’s affable and colorful executive chef, said that being an adventurous eater was just as important as watching your calorie and fat intake. “Being adventurous is about eating what’s available – what’s local and what’s in season,” he said in an interview during my residency. And in the dead of winter, “what’s available now is a lot of root vegetables, like potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, parsnips, rutabagas, beets.

“So the question is,” he continued, “how can I cook beets every single night and make it interesting?” One answer: a bright-red beet“hummus” made with lemon juice, olive oil and parsley.

Being adventurous is also about tweaking your favorite recipes to make them better for you, Chef Paul said, noting that just about everybody seems to be following a diet trend from vegetarian to raw to gluten-free.

“The good thing about that is that it has people asking about their food and connecting what they eat to their bodies. They’re asking, 'What is it? Where does it come from? How is it prepared? Do I enjoy it? Am I healthy?'”

Some of Chef Paul’s tips to mix up your menu: 

• Try healthy substitutions in traditional recipes … like using coconut or almond oil in your collard greens. “It’s not fatback,” he said, “but it’s an oil that’s good for you.”
• Go “gluten-light:” Instead of gluten-free bread, he suggested, “avoid bread altogether in favor of whole grains and rice.”
• Balance it out: “Have a slab of ribs with your special barbecue sauce, but made with less sugar … and then go heavy on veggies the next day.”
• Embracing new foods doesn’t always mean to give up or change up less-than-healthy favorites beyond recognition. Some dishes you can’t mess with, like fried macaroni and cheese. “If you’re gonna have it, then it’s gonna be the real deal – not light cheese or anything like that," he said, and quickly added: “But you can’t have that often. Only like once a year, because that shit will kill you.”

Chef Paul sent me home with a few of his great recipes. Try them and let me know what you think!

A.  Yes, it can. But, you probably won’t keep the weight off.

Inevitably a client will bring this question up. And here's what I share: Fasting helps you lose weight if you're eating less and not giving your body enough calories, it uses its own stored fat for fuel.

But unlike the way gradually reducing calories and working out burns stored fat, fasting throws your body into starvation mode - which can slow down your metabolism and make you more ravenous than ever. 

Even so, there’s a place for fasting. So let’s explore how it can work for you.

“Different strokes for different folks”– the same applies for how to fast. Some regimens involve only liquids, while others have you eating just one meal a day, or eating only raw foods.  The latest trend is intermittent fasting - where you restrict your calorie intake but only at certain times.  One method like this is called “5:2 Dieting,” where you eat normally for five days but seriously restrict calories on the other two days. That can help combat binge-eating and upending your metabolism. 

Fasting isn’t something to try carelessly or as trend. Make sure your doc approves, especially if you have health complications. And seriously consider why you want to do it. Some people fast as a part of their spiritual practice. Some fast for a more earthly reason, like fitting into an outfit for high school reunion. A good reason to fast, in my book? As a way to ready your body for a healthier lifestyle.

Aside from weight loss, fasting can be a preventative health tool - a way to detoxify and give your digestive system a break, while allowing you to get in touch with your taste buds and appetite again.

Still, you don’t want to go on a seven-day juice cleanse only to pop open that bag of chips on Day 8.  Make sure you commit to easing into a healthier lifestyle by not only planning for the fast itself but also for what happens afterward. 

Ideally, a health consultant or nutritionist can help you determine whether fasting is even appropriate for you, and if so, how to start – and finish – the best regime for you.

Want to know if fasting might be right for you? Contact me at robin@robinstone.com.

Down in front with my old Zumba crew.
 

I have never considered myself much of a fitness buff.

Family and friends, on the other hand, would beg to differ. I’ve been called a fanatic, been told that my vacations are “Outward Bound” adventures, and dubbed by my niece “that crazy health lady.”

What I am is a mover. I walk, jog, run and golf. I vibe to P90x and 20 Second Fitness. Back in the day, Tae-Bo was my thing. Before that, Jane Fonda (I’ve still got my three-part step). And way before that, I taught low-impact aerobics at a local Living Well Lady. I don’t like to sweat, but I’ve always I loved how I feel when I move my body.

Intellectually, I know how exercise boosts those feel-good chemicals called endorphins. After an intense workout session, I’ve even felt the “runner’s high” that we’ve read about. 

But it wasn’t until when I needed it most – when I was so down and out that it was hard to get out of bed and get dressed for the day – that I saw how exercise could lift you up from the depths of deep despair.

Cancer was killing my husband. The doctors referred us to hospice. My son was 10 and writing letters to his future self to come back in time and bring the cure. After a stressful day of work and tending to family, I found that nights became my friend. Before I rested, and as I said prayers for comfort, for peace, and for the strength to go on, I started walking on my treadmill. Almost every night I walked. Sometimes at 8 p.m., sometimes I got out of bed at midnight. And then I slept hard. On weekends I walked with girlfriends and at the rise-and-shine hour of 7.

I asked my therapist about medication. I hated feeling so bad. She didn’t dissuade me but she did ask, “What are you doing to take care of yourself?” I told her about all the walking, and confided that I was worried. Was it an addiction? Who walks at midnight? Keep going, my therapist assured me. I’m glad she did.

These days Americans are all too quick to reach for a prescription – after painkillers and cholesterol-lowering meds, antidepressants are the country’s most-prescribed drug. A part of the reason, as in this recent report, is that doctors are so quick to prescribe meds when movement might be enough. When you are feeling low, it’s important to know that you have a choice.

After my husband made his transition, I added meditation and golfing to the mix of what I was doing to take care of myself, and I walked and walked and walked. At some point, an older woman passed me on the neighborhood track, salt-and-pepper dreadlocks bouncing with each step. More encouraged than outdone, I started to trot. And so I became a runner. Growing up with chronic asthma, I had always told myself that vigorous exercise was beyond me. But once I started, and my asthma stayed in check, I saw how challenging exercise bolstered not only my lung capacity and my endurance, but also my spirits.

Walking gave me the motivation to get up and go on. I had a son to parent, a life to lead and dreams to fulfill. Running gave me the confidence to do more than I thought I could. Moving works. You may need more if you are down and depressed, but exercise is a good place to start. Studies show it, and I’ve lived it.

One of the most common complaints from many clients is they just don’t like to exercise. It’s inconvenient, it’s awkward, it’s ... sweaty (especially their hair). They’d rather just cut calories, often through super restrictive dieting and detoxes. Which, we know, can’t last and often lead to rebound weight gain.
 

Folks will debate “dieting” vs. exercise til they are blue in the face, but research shows that even if you eat too much to do you good, exercise will help. One recent study suggests that going from no exercise to some exercise (say, walking briskly for 20 minutes) a day could lower your risk of death. Not disease or disability. Death.

The benefits are not just about weight and waistline; here are other reasons to work out:

Fewer infections: Moderate exercise boosts your immune system. Studies show that people who exercise catch colds less often.

Great sex: Aerobic activity increases blood flow, enhancing your libido. Stretching, yoga and strength training keep you agile and flexible, affecting the intensity and quality of doing the do.

Protection from cancer: Studies have shown that no matter their weight, people who increase their physical activity can reduce the risk of developing colon cancer by 30 to 40 percent compared to those who don’t exercise. Physical activity recues breast cancer risk in premenopausal and postmenopausal women.

Beat stress: Regular aerobic exercise helps reduce stress hormones and promote endorphins, those feel-good hormones. And for some who battle depression, exercise has been proven to be as effective as antidepressant meds.

Slow down aging: Increasing aerobic activity can shave years off your age. One study of highly fit older women and men showed that they had younger people’s levels of balance, reflexes, metabolic health and memory ability.

Mental sharpness: Aerobic exercise increases a protein that’s key to brain health. It contributes to the brain’s ability to maintain old network connections and develop new ones.

Deeper sleep: Get at least 150 minutes of exercise a week, and you’ll enjoy better sleep and feel more alert the next day, one study showed. That is, unless the person you’re sleeping with has apnea. In which case you need to get them on your program. Exercise combats that too.

You don’t have to be a gym rat to get your workout on. Go take a walk – just do it double time. And then reap some of the rewards above. Did I mention great sex? Now that's worth workin' up a sweat. 

Photo illustration from blackwomendoworkout.com

Mom and me, summer 2013
 

“I’m sorry,” Mom said when shared the diagnosis in 2008. It’s what we were supposed to say to her, yet she worried about the toll the disease would take on her family.

In July she lost a calculated and hard-fought battle against lung cancer. And yet she won in so many ways.

She chose a clinical trial, booking chemotherapy on Thursdays, wedging it into her three-league bowling schedule on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

When she lost her hair, Mom bought a wig. It was close-cropped and mousy brown. A few months later, she bought another that was bigger and blonder. “That’s more like me,” I remember her saying. In the last few weeks of her life, she had another wig on layaway, and was determined to claim it.

Long retired from the postal service, Mom spent summers traveling to places like Reno and Kansas City for her women’s bowling association, and to Martha’s Vineyard for fellowship with house loads of women and kids. When my sister Terri and I weren’t home in Michigan for holidays, Mom visited Terri in Las Vegas or me in New York City.

She kept up with her monthly women’s card club meetings and her girlfriends’ birthday club, and continued to volunteer as a poll worker on election days. She shopped too much – buying stuff that filled her closets and garage, and that often became gifts. “What else can I do?” she would ask, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. “Go sit down somewhere and wait to die?”

Clearly, Mom had no time for being sick – or for dying.

Between the bowling and the trips and the cancer that eventually consumed her body, Mom taught us about living. In these new days without her, where the wounds of her absence are still fresh and tender, I choose to remember not just the song of her voice and her loving, easy, loving manner; not just her dry wit and adventurous spirit, but also the strength of her determination. Among the many life lessons that I’ve learned from her, these resonate most profoundly and bring me comfort. Some even make me smile.

Don’t feel sorry for yourself

In the nearly six years that she battled cancer, Mom sought to keep her illness to herself and a few of those closest to her. She recalled the troubling responses to friends who had made public their diagnoses. If you don’t feel sorry for yourself, she said, you have no idea whether other people feel sorry for you, and you really don’t care.

With my son, Zach, in 2012.
 

Take a chance

She chose a clinical trial. Black folks are underrepresented in experimental treatment programs – that’s no surprise given our legacy of medical mistrust stemming from brutal and unethical “research” like the Tuskegee syphilis study. A result: doctors are not as clear about how new medical treatments might affect Black patients. There’s no way to know for sure, but I believe that taking a chance bought Mom some time. Of course rates vary for people and their circumstances, butdata show that only 1 percent of stage 4 lung cancer patients survive at least 5 years after diagnosis. Mom lived for nearly 6 years. “I thought this might help me and somebody else,” she said when I once asked what motivated her to try the experimental treatment. And then she smiled. “And they said I wouldn’t lose my hair.”

 Even in illness, your dignity matters

After the experimental treatment was followed by traditional lines of chemo, Mom’s hair had fallen out and returned in uneven patches. She kept it covered with a wig in public and a soft black cotton terrycloth turban at home.

I returned to town the week before Mom passed. When I first saw her in the hospital, I thought not about how tiny and fragile she looked, or how labored her breathing was, but where was her turban? In the rush to get Mom relief from late-stage symptoms, the turban was left at home.

At the hospital the next morning, I greeted her with a grin and a kiss, and asked, Mommy do you want your turban? She smiled and nodded yes. She raised her head slightly and I gently fit the turban on. She whispered, “thank you.” Mom wasn’t vain, but decorum was important – even when receiving company in the hospital.

Say what you need to say however you need to say it

In April, a particularly bad scare brought Terri and me to Michigan. Mom did not ooze sentimentality. We laughed but rarely cried together. As we sat near her hospital bed, Mom told us that she loved us and that she tried to do her best by us. She acknowledged that she may not have been the most effusive mom, and that she even may have been too harsh at times, but whatever she did, she did out of love. We all hugged and cried that day. Terri and I wondered why Mom seemed to be making peace when the doctors did not reflect any sense of urgency. Even so, Mom seemed relieved to share what she needed to share.

Mom's 70th b-day party, with my Stepdad, Oct. 2013.

Make your wishes known

One of the last instructions that Mom gave was that she wanted to go home. And so in her final days, we made arrangements to bring her home from the hospital. Back when she was diagnosed, she also gave instructions – in the form of a living will. She made it clear that she wanted no extraordinary measures to resuscitate and keep her alive if she could not function on her own. She designated her husband, my stepfather, Allen, and me to make medical decisions in the event that she couldn’t. She made those tough choices to spare us all heartache and confusion later. I thank her for her ability to think through the unthinkable.

Have faith
On Friday, July 18, Mom was released from the hospital to hospice care at home. She was scheduled to host her monthly women’s club meeting that Sunday, and all through the week she had been planning her menu. She had asked Aunt Gwen to make the spaghetti that everybody likes, and reminded Cousin Michele to bring the cheese and crackers. Terri and I were assigned salads, lemonade and ice tea. Don’t forget dessert, she said, instructing us to thaw a yellow pound cake she had made and stored in the big freezer in the garage.

Even in her last days, as she no longer ate or drank, she planned away – and asked again and again if we had fetched her new hair from the layaway.

On Sunday morning, July 20, we reluctantly cancelled the club meeting. At 9:50 that evening, Mom made her transition, surrounded by her girls and her oldest granddaughter, her husband and a hospice nurse. All that day it was bright and sunny. I couldn’t help thinking that had she not been ill, Mom would have been with her girlfriends or in her garden or out shopping some more.

With my sister Terri and the girls, 2005.
 

Keep going

At the hospital a few days before she came home, Mom’s doctors gathered my sister, stepfather and me around a light box with a sonogram picture to help us understand how the cancer had advanced. As he illuminated the image, one doctor pointed out the white masses that indicated cancer in her liver. “You see, this one’s from April,” he said. “April?” We all responded at once. She had told none of us about that major development. Looking back, it all made sense. 

On June 15, Mom was on a plane bound for Las Vegas. She wanted to meet her first great-grandchild, Micah, who was born the week before to Bridgette, Terri’s oldest daughter. My aunt Zeola called me. “She wants to go,” she said. “Do you think she’s strong enough?” I asked. “Probably not,” my aunt replied, “but she wants to go. What can we do?” Doctors instructed her to wear an antiviral facemask from airport to airport. Her immune system was just that weak. And so she took her 90-pound self, and with a wheelchair escort, boarded a flight to Vegas where she held her great-grandson and counted his fingers and toes and cooed over him for a week. Then she returned home and asked about her next round of chemo. Let’s wait and see, her doctors said, knowing they could do no more.

We buried Mom in a favorite gauzy peach dress, along with her new wig, a dusky blonde that perfectly complemented her skin. We tucked her bowling shoes and a deck of cards in the casket, with the last book that she was reading. It was our way of acknowledging that her transition wasn’t the end but a pause in her busy schedule.

I am grateful to Mom for showing the courage to look death in the eye and not blink. To embrace life and squeeze out every drop. To go ragged, worn, tired, spent.

As the pastor who eulogized her said, Ora Lee Hughes never gave up – her body just gave out. She knew she didn’t have a say in when she would go. But she would be damned if she’d just sit down somewhere, waiting to die.

Have you heard of interval training? It’s at the core of trainer Shaun T’s crazy workout sensation known as Insanity. If you can get through Insanity – even halfway through – high-five to you. If you’re like the rest of us, then you may need to set your sights a little – OK maybe a lot – lower than that hour-long high-intensity drill.

Good news: New research backs up the theory behind interval training – where you exercise in intense bursts at maximum capacity with short breaks in between – and suggests that a little goes a long way.

“There’s very good evidence” that high-intensity interval training provides “many of the fitness benefits of prolonged endurance training but in much less time,” Chris Jordan, the director of exercise physiology at the Human Performance Institute in Orlando, Fla., and one of the study’s authors, told The New York Times.

The researchers studied the effects of a seven-minute routine of 30-second bursts of intense activity intermingled with 10-second rest periods. This workout ain’t easy, but researchers likened results to taking a long run and a visit to the weight room. Hmm. Seven minutes of Insanity …

Check out the research and the moves.

I once had a client who swore she didn’t like to exercise. “Nope, nah, no way,” were her responses to my suggestions to do yoga, lift weights or try a spin class.

She found workout routines boring and was adamant that boredom kept her from including regular exercise in her routine. Instead of reminding her about the benefits of exercise for weight loss, which she already knew, I suggested that she not do anything she felt “forced” to do, but to consider what kind of movement she liked.

“Really?” she said, “All I like to do is dance.”

And really, that was all she needed.

I suggested she put together a “move your body” soundtrack and sent her fun DVDs like Shaun T’s “Hip-Hop Abs.” And I encouraged her to commit to dancing for 30 minutes straight at least twice a week.

Not everybody likes the gym, or to work with trainers, or to even put on a sports bra. But I don’t know anybody who doesn’t like to dance.  Getting your groove thing on goes beyond burning calories; it can even lift your spirits.  Just get moving and keep moving until you work up a sweat. Start in the privacy of your own home, and if you’re adventurous enough to give a class a twirl, sign up at your local community center or Y, your house of worship or more formal studios.

From salsa to African to tap to belly dancing, you can find a class that suits your taste and level. If you’re a couple, take a class together as a new way to connect.  If you’re single, try a dance class to meet and mingle. 

Dancing boosts our bodies and our moods: It burns calories (anywhere from 250 to 500 per hour) and builds endurance and muscle strength – improving posture as it works your core.  It also releases those feel-good hormones called endorphins.

Dancing also helps your mind and memory. Studies have found that folks who practice ballroom dancing have a reduced incidence of dementia.  Evidently, the mental concentration you need to learn new dance moves keeps your mind agile, like crossword puzzles or learning a new language.

 So if you’re like my client and all you like to do is dance, then get on the good foot – and get it in!

So they still know how to let the good times roll in New Orleans!

I had an amazing experience there recently, as well as the honor to share the stage with some phenomenal women to discuss smart, simple ways that we can take better care of ourselves.

The panel, "Health Journeys and Transformations," was part of ESSENCE magazine's spectacular ESSENCE Fest, a 4th of July weekend jam-packed with great music, empowering, uplifting dialogues, rich, flavorful food and parties all night long!  

The panel covered a wide range of topics, from how to eat more healthfully to the importance of getting in regular exercise to thriving in spite of health challenges such as diabetes, digestive problems or severe alopecia (hair loss). 

One of the delights of the Fest was meeting the talented and suave actor Blair Underwood and his lovely wife and children. They all look to be the epitome of health!

Here are some of the highlights from my whirlwind weekend:

For video: Panelists included Denise Warren, far right, founder of Body by Denise fitness center in New York City, and Laschaunda Cogburn and Michele Bercy, two of her clients who, combined, have lost hundreds of pounds!

Talking "Health Journeys and Transformations" before more than 3,000 people. Dr. Aletha Maybank, left, myself, interior designer and author Sheila Bridges and moderator Sharon Boone, ESSENCE's health editor. 

The one and only fine and friendly Blair Underwood! So great to connect with him and his fam. Catch him in "Ironside" on NBC this fall!

Greeting guests at the book-signing for my book No Secrets No Lies. During that power hour, I also had the pleasure to get to know the gorgeous and talented interior designer Sheila Bridges, whose searing new memoir, The Bald Mermaid, explores her experience of losing her hair to alopecia.

My all-access Talent pass.

Panel's done-- now time to play!

Caught Les Nubians schooling folks on their Afropean soul in one of the intimate superlounges.

Did I mention the crowds? More than 500k -- a record for ESSENCE in New Orleans! 

Many of us have a hate-hate relationship with calories. If you’ve counted then till the cows came home but lost not one pound, you know what I mean. But here’s how calories can be our friend.

We typically fall into one of three calorie-counting camps: The counter, who tallies every last one of them, the guesstimator, who rounds off, and let’s say the ignorer, who eats “what’s good” for them. All three have pros and cons, and all influence how we lose (or gain) weight. 

Counters have a solid sense of calories and fat, cholesterol, sodium, and for those on eating plans, “points,” but when focusing on numbers alone and not nutrients and other values in food, counters can end up making not-so-good choices. Ever substitute an order of fries for a hearty salad because they have about the same calories count? You already know which is better, but if you’re in counting mode, you tell yourself the swap is OK because it’s even – even though you know it’s not. If you’re a counter, you may also feel like a ship without a rudder navigating a restaurant menu or dinner party spread because you have no idea how much salt (or sugar!) went into that pasta dish. 

“Guestimating” works because it gives you a general sense of your calorie count. But guestimators can run into trouble when they “round down,” shaving calories here and there. If you round your calories, you may end up consuming more than you think. The only person you’re cheating is yourself. 

The Ignorer who pays no attention to calories and focuses on “eating what’s good” is on solid ground with clean, whole foods. But challenges lurk because “what’s good” can be vague, and when stressed or frustrated, what’s good may be a “treat” of something sweet (cake), chewy (candy), salty (pretzels) or crunchy (chips) instead of real, whole foods. 

Whether you’re a counter or an estimator or you play it by ear, calories in are calories in. What we need to focus on more is calories out. 

Think of it like bad budgeting: in order to lose weight, you must run a deficit: Calories in must be less than calories out. For maintenance, of course, calories in must equal calories out. You can’t cheat your checkbook because the numbers don’t lie. So let’s shift the spotlight to the cals you burn. Here are some estimates for an hour workout for a 200-pound person (see more exercises courtesy of the Mayo Clinic): 

Low-impact aerobics: 455

Bowling: 273

Bicycling (10 mph) 364

Rollerblading 683

Running (5 mph) 755

Stairmaster 819

Walking (3.5 mph) 391

Other ways to zap cals: 

Invest in a good pedometer so you’re counting your steps each day. The rule of thumb is 10,000, which equals about 5 miles. If you’re not losing enough, take more steps. Inactive people walk about 3,000 SPD. Don’t be one of them.

Stand when you’re on the phone, reading, or working at your computer. Studies show that sitting for long periods of time is not good for your health and in fact can cancel out all that work at the gym. And too many of us (me included) spend too much of our time glued to our computers, tabs and smartphones. So stand up and even – God forbid – step away. And keep steppin’ for a bit. 

Next time you’re inclined to count calories or guestimate or ignore the numbers, base what you eat on the number of calories you’ll burn. Light activity = light breakfast, lunch and dinner. A half-hour of high-impact Zumba plus stretching and walking = heartier dining. Keep counting or guessing or whatever you’ve done, but beware of the downsides, and at the end of the day, make sure to run a deficit. In a week or a month, the losses will add up big time. Want to tailor a diet and exercise combo that works just for you? Book your consultation now. 

Have a Healthy Day! 
Robin