Daily Grind

Browsing through the web, dealing with toddlers, and a sink that reproduces dishes like rabbits getting it on, is draining. Not physically draining, just mind draining. Feeling like there is no end in sight and yearning for that feeling when you’re doing something amazing. Something exciting and adventurous, possibly a little bit dangerous.

Don’t get my wrong, I L.O.V.E. my kids. They are my pain in the asses and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I am a woman though, with likes, dislikes, wants, desires, NEEDS people. I have needs people. HAHA, who doesn’t. I want to go and experience life. I can’t do that while at home with my dishes getting it on.

Some people say having kids ruined their life. That having kids will keep you from your dreams by changing the endless diaper or having to stay up all night long. They’re wrong.

Having kids, not to be depressing here, has made me think of my mortality. In a good way. Having kids has brought my life, my death and their life, their death into focus. This isn’t depressing. This new awareness about life and death by having kids has given me new meaning. I want to live my life to the fullest so my kids see that. I want  to be happy and have excitement in my life and have them want that and strive for that in their lives. Lead by example, have them see that, want that for themselves. If I’m not happy how can I expect them to be happy?

Can’t be happy with a sink full of dishes and nowhere to go. Go out and get your dreams. Don’t try, but DO.

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Stop trying to hit me and hit me (via Bridge Over Everywhere)

Comical yet true. “Stop trying to hit me and hit me” from Morpheus envelopes multiple faucets of the world of today in its most basic form. Many people try to accomplish many things in their daily schedule, yet never quite get the most important done. When one has the word try in their vocabulary as a staple, their achievements get lower, their stress increases. A mass majority gets so bogged down with trying to do something they have lost their autonomy, their true self. The inner child that has limitless imagination and limited experience to not know that doing something could be hard is not fun. When we stop trying and just do and go after what we want, our happiness increases and we get back the excitement and adventure of life.

Stop trying to hit me and hit me I am still a little suspicious of Plinky. It strikes me as a celebrity reporter blended with a talk show host with an agony aunt with an agenda of asking people to 'tell me your feelings'. Considering that a significant portion of this suspicion is rooted in my distinctly introverted and indistinctly anti-social nature just being suspicious of questions in general, I'm willing (for now) to give it the benefit of the doubt. Today Plinky (I have to … Read More

via Bridge Over Everywhere

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Chimney Rock.

July 11, 2010 1 comment

Scenery from Chimney RockWeather, perfect. Sunny with clouds. Home alone with my little devils, I mean toddlers. Hell. Home alone with two very active boys and nothing to do. Didn’t get to work out yesterday morning and now home alone with them. Don’t get me wrong, I love my boys more than anything. Just, it’s been so hot lately that they’ve been getting cabin fever. Temperature today is around 85 degrees so time to get out. Do something. Chimney Rock.

First, let me say this, don’t bring small children up to the rock without proper supervision. Leashes, tethers, multiple adults for one child, alarms that go off when a distance of two feet has been breached, ALL good ideas. I say this jokingly but seriously good ideas. I remember a couple years ago there was a toddler, I believe around four years old, who fell off the trail and was killed around Chimney Rock. Children are balls of energy, so don’t let them out of your sight and if they’re old enough to talk and respond intelligently, tell them to stay with you.

Having said that. It IS a great place to go with your family. It’s in the great outdoors. They have guard rails all around at the top and a very cool elevator that goes up 26 stories in thirty seconds, that you have to get to through a cave. There is a waterfall on one of the trails and the scenery is beyond breathtaking. Take a digital camera. The gift shop is nice. They have ice cream and water you can buy, overpriced but isn’t  it everywhere?

When you go be prepared to work those glutes! I would suggest bringing a bag with goodies inside. A small first aid kit, sunscreen, hat, WATER, trail mix, possible extra clothes if you’re going to get wet, theres a waterfall and creek, and did I mention water and a camera?

Very good trails all over, from beginner to expert. Bug repellent. Have you ever gone through woods and been chased by a deer fly?? Not good. I have, not at Chimney Rock but at the Asheville Arboretum,  and let me tell you. Running for your life and swatting at the air immediately around oneself like a mad women, even if you really don’t want to touch the thing, and praying that this 50 yards is the yards that the fly from hell will leave you alone, is not fun. B-u-g R-e-p-e-l-l-e-n-t. You can thank me later.

So we went, we saw, we took pictures, we left. OK, so we ate some ice cream too. They were so tired they fell asleep the entire ride home. Plus.

Big hint here. If you go after 4pm, your ticket is good the next day also. Score. If you’re not too tired that is.

Also, there are some cool shops around the entrance to the park And a river that you can wade into. Today when I went, people were everywhere, in out on around by near the water. Looked nice. You should go.

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Sh*t Happens

My normal day would be to wake up and go to the one place on earth where people converge to sweat, grunt, squat, and lift. I usually go to this magical place, and I say magical because if you go long enough and hard enough your body will miraculously change shape, by hitting my alarm at 5am. However, today, on this fateful day, it was not meant to be. My alarm, a.k.a. cell phone, died in the middle of the night a slow and quiet death. Don’t feel bad, it was quick. Not charging my beloved  for the past 4 days had given it no will, power, to do my bidding and wake my ass up at 5am.

I can’t blame my absence totally on my phone though. I did wake up, probably around 6-ish and saw sunlight streaming through window, realizing that it was later than normal I proceeded to have an internal dialogue about about the pros and cons of getting up. My lazy self won and I fell back into the ether of dreamland.

When I finally managed to roll out bed, literally roll out of bed, I started to get ready for the day. Something was missing. What was it?  Pants? Yes, put them on. Makeup? Yes, just a little bit. Breakfast? Ate that banana like there was no manana. Hmm, something was still missing. Oh. I know.


If you didn’t read my post I suggest you read it. It describes the high in such eloquence and command of the English language that Ernest Hemingway would be proud….maybe.

What I didn’t get into was the after high. You’re pumped for the day. You’re ready for the day. Bring it on, whachyougaawt?!?!? Kind of attitude. It helps, tremendously, when you have 2 toddlers to care for, both boys.

So I missed a workout and the after high. I feel not ready for the day. Maybe I can sneak in some weights when they go to sleep. Oh, it won’t be the same as being in the atmosphere, but I’ll take it.

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Women and Muscles

Ok so this is on my About page but on the off-chance you will not read it…

PetiteMuscle. Who says muscles have to look manly? Why, if you do want to get physically fit, do you insist on lifting dumbbells that weigh less than your Yorkie?? Why, when you look in the mirror and turn around and see that cellulite, do you insist on not doing lunges and squats?

There is all this talk about about how women should train different than men, blah blah blah. I’m thinking….we aren’t different species. Maybe in how we process information, yes, but last time I checked we each have the same muscles, same bone structure. Obviously, we have minor differences, carry fat primarily around our hips, thighs, and butt, yes. Also, we have different amounts of  fast twitch and slow twitch (Type II and Type I, respectively) however not that much difference.

If you see men in the gym, and I know you do, you see them lifting heavy, hopefully with correct form. They get excited over .5 inch of gain! Think about that for second. They lift heavy, probably are taking whey protein and whatever else, they have a natural advantage of having testosterone, and they get excited over .5 inch of gain of muscle.

Then you have women. Who, I believe, usually doesn’t take any supplements, doesn’t have the testosterone level that men have and are afraid are lifting heavy because they don’t want to look all muscular. Does that make sense?? NO.

When you see those very muscular women who compete in body building and they look like…well you know, don’t be scared of looking like that. They usually take steroids, protein, supplements, hormones. They eat like crazy and thats their job to look like that, I’m not saying they live in the gym but you get the picture.

So next time you notice something that you’re not particularly fond of. see: cellulite, jiggly parts. Lift heavy enough that you will feel it, and have to work when you lift weights. You will get thinner faster and have less jiggly parts.

And in my humble opinion, along with other professionals, weights first and then cardio.

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Weight Lift Days M-W-F

Home in Bed- 5:00am. Hit the damn phone. Snooze for 3 minutes and hit phone again. Remember that phone is on last leg of life so I stopped acting like a cave woman and returned to normal human behavior ie. turned off the alarm through peaceful ways. YAWN. STRETCH.  Grumble about how I have to wake up at 5:00am to workout because of kids. Think about my body fitting into those jeans and I’m off in fantasy land while getting dressed for some serious working out.

Car- Alone time. Time for me to be the rapper that deep down, like Way down I know I am, you too. Turn up that radio/mp3 and do a little hip rotation and chest press while bobbing your head to that beat. Singing at the top of my lungs, “I yeah yeah you shoould yeah yeaaaaah ishinkijst…”  words dont matter because I’m alone. Of course I’m also doing that thing with your hand that All good rappers do…you know what I’m talking about, don’t play. Tone it down a bit, OK a whole lot, when someone is next to you at the red light. You Don’t Know Me! One hand on the wheel and other doin’ its thang.

Gym parking lot- Even though you’re going to the gym where ideally you SHOULD get all sweaty and out of breath and feeling your muscles work you still gotta check out that mirror. Hmm, do I look good? Should I slap on some eye liner? lip gloss? maybe some mascara?? Watching my reflection in the mirror I think, Nahhh I look gooooood. OK maybe some mascara. Ahh, America and its photoshopped everyone. Keys? check, Card? check, Log? check, Water? check,…Hell just put it all in a workout bag. I swear. Got to have a damn purse/bag for everything. Would we have it any other way??

Gym- A full body workout! Lift to failure, Oh it feels so good to be working muscles and feeling them strain and say, You’re crazy! Can’t you feel when you do that you hurt me? I thought you loved me?? Don’t you?…The lightest weight I lift is 15lbs. On a good day 20lbs. Talking dumbbells here, not a bar. Lifting heavy feels good. I’m not a bodybuilder nor do I aspire to be one. That feeling where you know you’re pushing yourself is awesome. A high thats legal. In the mood with your mp3 blasting rock and hip-hop and rap into your ears, probably at a too high volume. Seeing your body change little by little over the days and weeks. Shoulders muscles, definition in you arms, and the oh so sexy lines of your legs and back with the well defined waist getting smaller and smaller. Standing up taller, shoulders back chest up with a damn brilliant smile on my face. Bliss.

I’m writing this on a Tuesday night and working out tomorrow. I’m motivated.   🙂

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