Thursday, February 13, 2014

On Lists.

Who else has had just about enough of the trending articles featuring lists of obscure opinions?  Is it just me, or have Facebook and Twitter become one long collection of editorials disguised as numbered lists? 

"41 Reasons Nieces and Nephews Prepare You to Be the Best Parent" 
"10 Reasons Lesbian Break-Ups are Worse than any other Break-Up" 
"22 Conversations Every Cat Owner has had with their Pet" 

Don't get me wrong, I love a good list as much as the next girl. In fact, I could make a list about why I like lists. 

Lists are sequential, and therefore easy to read. Also, most lists are titled in a no-non-sense way that lets the reader know exactly what they will be reading and for how long: "17 Things You Should Know Before Dating a Runner." No more, no less. Cause ain't nobody got time for that. Furthermore, in today's attention-deficit world, a list can be understood by scanning the numbered headers and hastefully ignoring the sub-content. Quick and easy.  

However, since when did people start getting published for quick and easy material

Another thing I am wondering: who decides how many numbers compose the final list? Are there only 19 reasons why "being a late bloomer made you a better person," or are those in fact the 19 most important reasons? I imagine the author of the article "21 Signs You were Raised by Lawyers" sitting at his computer, writing the 21st ambiguous indicator of lawyer parents and thinking, well, that's all I got.  And then the beauty of the list, is that a conclusion isn't even necessary.  21. The End.

In fact, I could have made this post into a numbered format with ease, but I thought I'd spare the satire for another post.  

You're welcome.  

Sunday, February 2, 2014

An Ode to Mustang Sally

Allow me to begin by saying this: I got a new car over Christmas break, and for that I am beyond thrilled. I could not possibly be more grateful. 

However, the new purchase is replacing my very first vehicle.  When I was sixteen I got a 2006 Ford Mustang. It was a cherry red cloth top.  We bought it because my dad said blondes look good in red convertibles...

I adored that car.  My summers were made infinitely better just by cruising down the parkway with the top down.  I measured my days by whether or not they were "top down" appropriate, and my favorite days were driven with the top down with the heat on, wrapping my legs in a warm embrace.  

That car brought me to my first date with Loverboy.
Got me in my first accident (one of the most memorable life lessons I've received.)
Got me to highschool graduation. 
Drove me to college.
Picked up my little sister when she couldn't drive.
Offered me an extra hour in the sun in traffic on the way home from the beach. 

I even learned to pump gas on that car...

And this morning, February 2nd 2014, Groundhog day and Superbowl Sunday, my parents drove off onto I-64 north toward New Jersey in my precious red car.  I think there is a Mustang-shaped hole in my heart. 

On the bright side... it is a cold, rainy Sunday with expected freezing rain and snow over night.  I don't anticipate my parents putting the top down any time soon, and I think I'll get good use out of the four wheel drive of my new SUV.  Her name is Nissan Nina. She's red too.


**disclaimer: My dad is keeping Mustang Sally at least for a little while.  So as Loverboy put it, it's like I'm going off to college and I'll see her on breaks :) I can't be totally heart broken just yet...

The Closest I've Ever Come to Dying

I am almost positive that I just came the closest I have ever come to dying.  

Every time I take one of the classes in the Les Mills Grit Series I experience one of the most intense 30 minutes of my life.  Tonight? The first of the cardio series.  I pushed myself in the last set of sprints to be the first to finish like I've never pushed myself before.  I was successful. And then I wanted to let my shaking legs collapse and drown in my own puddle of excessive sweat.  Just kidding. (?) 

As a result, I am still trembling slightly even as I type this - two hours post work-out.  During the 30 minute training I reached my maximum heart rate, kept it there, and burned 402 calories. Impressive enough for a half hour workout.  And then I let my heart rate monitor do it's thing for another hour after the class.  In that hour post-Grit, I sat my butt down in the Gym's lounge, drank a bottle of water and a protein shake, and burned another 400 calories. 

In concluesion: 30 minutes of Grit + 60 minutes of nothing = 802 calories burned.  
Thank you, Les Mills After Burn Effect :) 

And now excuse me while I go work on my Beach Body some more...Body Pump up next.
PS: Check out what other high intensity classes Beach Body has to offer here

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