Wednesday Workout!

Hey Beefcakes, it's time to pump you up. I mixed up my TV references in that sentence. I hope you forgive me.

I ran four miles with the dog yesterday so naturally my right knee is killing me and the dog is full of piss and vinegar. In 18 days, I will compete in my triathlon and after that, I don't think I'll be running for quite some time. Anyways, due to the pain in my knee, I was going to save this workout for tomorrow but after reading through workout #3, I think I might give it a whirl. It's mostly upper body. Although, swimming, which I will be heading off to do in about an hour, is upper body too. What's a girl to do?

On to the awesome:

30 Push-ups.
30 Arnold Presses. Hold your kettlebell (or 15lb+ weight) at shoulder height, palm facing your body.  Lift weight straight up until arm is fully extended, and at the same time twist so your palm faces out. Return to start, weight at shoulder height, palms in. That's one.
30 Double Crunches. Those who know yoga will understand when I tell them to get into half boat position. For those who don't, check this picture out. Now, lower legs and upper body apart from each other as if you were going to lie down, but stop about halfway down. Go back to half boat pose. That's one.
30 Jumps. Jump straight up in the air as high as you can, bringing knees and feet up as high as you can.
30 Russian Twists. We know these by now, right? :)
30 Recline Presses.  Grab your kettlebell or 10lb+ weight in one hand and sit sideways on a chair so you can lean back. Lean back about 45 degrees, weight at shoulder height, palms facing forward, and lift weight straight up. Return weight to shoulder height. That's one. Do 15 each side.
30 Front Horse Lifts. Get into horse stance, which we talked about last week, with the kettlebell or weight on the floor in front of you. Grab weight, lift straight up above your shoulder (not above your head), and then return to the floor. That's one. Do 15 each side.
15 Burpees. This is a burpee.
30 Low Pulls with Weights. Grab that chair again. Grip the back of the chair with your left hand, placing left knee on the chair. Make sure your back is flat and your butt sticks out, so your body is lower to the ground (Todd and I call it hooker butt because we are 14 year olds). Look straight ahead. With the kettlebell or heavy weight in your right hand and lift up as if you were trying to start a lawn mower. Lower weight but never completely to the ground. That's one. Do 15 each side.
30 Calf Lifts with Weights. Stand straight, feet shoulder width apart. Hold as much weight as you want. Lift up on your toes, engaging your calf muscles. Slowly lower down til feet are flat on the floor. That's one.

Enjoy!

The Usual Suspects.

Don't let all the pink fool you.

Don't let that innocent look beguile your senses.

This trio is up to no good. Especially that crazy dude in the middle.

Hide your dolls, hide your teddy bears, hide your fruit pouches. Cause these bad butts are on the loose.


Brought to you by Alexandra's recent obsession with sitting her buddies up against the wall and then joining them for a moment of reflection

Poor/Lazy Man's Cassoulet

Poor man's, lazy man's, slutty (aka easy) cassoulet. Whatever you want to call it, it is WAY easier than the previous cassoulet recipe I posted, requires fewer ingredients, takes less time and tastes just as great

Cheap and Easy Cassoulet
Serves 2

1 cup great white northern beans
4 strips bacon
3-5oz chopped carrots
1 large stalk of celery, finely chopped
1/2 large white onion, diced
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
2 tsp dried thyme, divided
8 - 10oz white meat chicken (we used tenders), cut into large chunks
1 cup water
2 tbsp tomato paste
1/2 cup Panko crumbs
Olive oil
1/4 cup parmesan


Soak 1 cup GWN beans overnight.*

Set oven to 375. After their soak, drain them out of the old water and put them in 2 cups cold water, and set to boil. In a cast iron skillet, cook the bacon. Put the cooked slices on paper towel and set aside. Dump most of the grease in your bacon can, and then add your veggies to the skillet of grease.

Cook until soft, about 2-3 minutes, add 1 tbsp thyme and then your chicken pieces. Push aside the veg so your meat has a chance to brown. Once that's done, mix your water and tomato paste to make a sort of veggie broth. Add the tomato water stuff to the skillet until it's just barely reached the top.

Put in the oven for about 20 minutes. In the meantime, crumble your bacon as fine as you can and mix it evenly with the Panko crumbs. After the 20 minutes are up, pull out your skillet and evenly sprinkle the bacon crumb mixture on top. Drizzle the olive oil over the whole shebang, and pop back in for another 10 minutes. Sprinkle the cheese on top, plate up and enjoy!


* If you don't have the time, start boiling them a couple of hours before you want to start dinner.

Nothing Says Love Like "Here, Hold My Banana."

Ages ago, I posted about last year's Warrior Dash that Todd and I ran together. Well I finally got off my ass and bought the pictures from the event.

Here is the second to last obstacle: jumping over fire. Why my head is like that I don't know. Maybe I broke my neck. But yes, I am flipping off the cameras. It's like I knew in advance that the promoters ran out of fucking turkey legs before I even got through the mud and to the food truck!

Just when you thought Todd couldn't look any taller, or any more like a giant eagle about to take flight...:

Todd beat me through the mud pit (under barbed wire), but the sweet, sweet man waited for me, hand outstretched, so we could cross together. Believe it or not, tears sprang to my eyes as I just typed that sentence. It's such a metaphor for marriage. Now I sound like a contestant on The Bachelor.

The moral of the story here, so far, is do not wear cotton clothes if you intend to jump in a 4' deep mud bog, because you instantly lose agility, gain 15lbs and your pants start sliding down your ass.

True story.


Anyways, this is where Todd said "Here, hold my banana" and then he dipped me, and kissed me. Any woman will tell you, for a man to pull an impromptu dip-and-kiss without being asked in a fierce whisper "You know what would be awesome? If you dipped me and then kissed me!!!" is just about the most awesome thing ever, no matter how much mud is streaming down your legs:

Here we are, happily married couple, happy parents, a united force against all opposition, all mud, all fire jumps and 25' tall cargo nets. We are WARRIORS.

Oh my God, I love that man.

Lemon Garlic Salmon with veggies

I did this off the cuff the other night and had to share.

Lemon Garlic Salmon
serves two

12 - 16oz fillet of salmon
Olive oil
2 - 3 cloves garlic, finely sliced
1 large lemon, thinly sliced, ends saved (you may need two)
Parisian spices*
8oz squash and or/zucchini, thickly sliced (optional)

Set oven to 375. Prepare your baking dish with foil, a long enough strip to fold over the salmon. If you don't want to add the veggies, use a smaller pyrex in order to keep the lemon juice around the fish. Brush your fillet with olive oil.

Add the garlic evenly on top of the fish.

After that, squeeze one of the ends of the lemon over the fish to coat with lemon juice. All attempted photos of this step sucked, so forgive me for not showing this step.

Blinded by the light! Now add your lemon slices. If you ran out of lemon, use another lemon half for more juice.

This is what it looks like after the veggies are added, the Parisian spices are added, and more lemon juice is drizzled all over everything. Oh, and toss in the lemon ends:

Now fold the foil over and crimp to seal. Pop in the oven and either start some rice or kick up your feet.

This is after about 20 minutes. I opened the foil, cut it down the middle and threw back in for another 10 minutes or so. Maybe even less.

All right, 10 minutes are up! Plate it up, add that rice if you are having it, and add capers to your salmon. Have a tall sexy man hold up a plate so you can photograph it and then rip the plate out of his hands, run to the sofa and eat it.

YUMMO

Triathlon Training Update: Sink or Swim

When I did my triathlon run through at Gold's Gym back in January, and timed my swim in their 15y pool, I did it in 14:07. I was extremely proud of that time and was eager to email the triathlon manager to share the good news. Color me slightly tiffed when he replied that I needed to do it in a 25y pool, that the inclusion of that many more turns in a shorter pool could speed up my time instead of detract from it (which was my thinking). He told me to get myself to a 25y pool by March 11th (my event is on the 25th).

Well, I drove my butt on down to the YMCA in downtown Tucson, where they proudly boast a 25y pool. I was nervous; what if this Jim character was right and my time would now be horrible? I had been really proud of that 14:07, as far as I was concerned it was my personal best, it was only three minutes slower than the chick who had WON last year's early spring triathlon. I mean, I know nanoseconds mean a lot in the sporting world, but this is my first triathlon. I'll take anything. I suited up, goggled up, slipped into the pool, which was not as cold as I'd remembered and, considering I largely left the Y because their pool was outdoors and not as warm as Gold's Gym's pool, I felt sort of stupid. Anyways.

I clicked on my stopwatch and began. My God, is swimming 25y without a turn a lot more exhausting than doing even 30y in a 15y pool. I felt worn out after just five laps. The entire time I swam, this sort of shit was running through my mind:

I can't do this. How am I going to do this triathlon? What was I thinking? Oh my God, I can't breathe. My time is going to suck. That dude from Tri Tucson was right and my time is going to be like 17:30. My arms are going to fall off. Don't forget to swivel your torso! Crap, lengthen your stride. I'm going to drown. I hate swimming. I hate you, Jim. Stupid 25 yard pool. Oh my God I still have 16 laps to go. I'm doing to die. God this pool is so much cleaner than Gold's. I can't do this. Keep your arm outstretched while you breathe! Oh man, I can't breathe. I'm going to be exhausted after this, how the fuck am I going to bike 12 miles and then run 3? I need a drink. And a cheeseburger. I can't do this. TEN MORE LAPS?!?!

And then it was over. I stood up, ripped off my goggles and hit stop on the stopwatch and looked down. What the hell?

12:44:40.                                              12:44:40.                       12:44:40!!!!

I stared. I laughed and I said "No way. No freaking way" which made a girl, who had just walked in, look at me like I was crazy. Hell, at that point in time, maybe I was. Tired and high from my workout, from my new PR, from my miniature victory. I laughed again, and remembered that I threw my goggles behind me and since they are clear, I couldn't find them. So I hunted around for them a little bit, and then a thought dawned on me.

The stopwatch was broken. It got wet. It died. It stopped working at 12:44:40 and I just kept on swimming, five minutes past that time, thinking I was a freaking superhero. I put my goggles down and picked up the wet stopwatch. I gulped, and hit the button again.

It kept going! I stopped it again, and since my glorified time of 12:44:40 was no longer showing on the watch face, I cleared the time. But it was as plain as the runny nose on my face.

I shaved 1:23 off my time. Ooh, how magical that looks! I am 1:23 faster than I was a little over a month ago. TAKE THAT JIM. And lady who won last year? Suck it! I'm going to KICK YOUR ASS

Woo! See, the high you get from a workout? It lasts a lot longer than you think.

Review: Mansfield Park

For those who haven't read Mansfield Park, it's about Fanny Price, who at the tender age of 10 or 11 is transplanted from her poor, overcrowded home in Portsmouth to the fabulous, sprawling estate of Mansfield Park in the countryside, per the request/demands of her aunt and uncle, Lady and Sir Thomas Bertram. They were presuaded by her other aunt, Mrs. Norris, who is a busy bodied old bitch, to take in at least one of the Price children to relieve the burden caused by Fanny's mom never closing her legs for her drunk sailor husband, Mr. Price. Good times. Lady Bertram is a beautiful lump of uselessness and Sir Thomas is the kind of guy you'd expect to go "Hem-hem-hem!" and bluster a lot in that affected British way. At least I did. He's well meaning but comes off poorly, gaining no affection from Fanny for most of the book. Probably few of the readers, as well.

Fanny herself is timid, trembling, lacking in any sort of individual opinion and is  frail as can be. A ride on a horse wipes her out (or knocks her up, as they said back then, which never ceased to amuse me). Her personality is largely shaped by her cousin Edmund Bertram, the younger son and most morally-bound child at Mansfield Park. He is the kindest one to her when she first comes to the house, and always keeps her comforts in mind until some tart comes and plays the harp at him, then he leaves her in a sweltering wood so he can talk clergy at this tart. The other children are Tom, eldest, Maria, eldest daughter, and Julia. They all sort of suck.

Other players are the Crawford siblings (on of whom is the harp tart), who come in and sort of screw everything up. Mary and Henry. The create a bunch of dramz.

Anyways, so the whole story revolves around a love triangle, or if you want to get really specific, a love scribble where everyone seems to love/admire someone else or if the love is mutual there is a conflict of moral interest. There's a play. Morals are put into question. Fanny is affronted. Edmund is stupid. Sir Thomas comes home and Lady Bertram wakes up. Mrs. Norris flaps her hands.

I sound harsh, but this was honestly my opinion as I read this book. Austen kept it entertaining enough with her writing, but I found no character I could admire or respect. I did feel bad that no one really missed Sir Thomas when he was in India, but then again, since Mansfield Park was built on slave labor, maybe I don't feel so bad after all.

Fanny as a heroine is absolutely peculiar and really not likeable either. She is described repeatedly as having a character and opinion and mind mostly shaped by Edmund himself. His interests are hers, his opinions are her facts and rest on pedastals, Edmund Edmund Edmund. Um, lame? She seems void of any backbone, spirit, individuality (except in thinking Henry Crawford is a complete asshole) or even loyalty to family.

When she returns home, it's ~too loud~ and the food is ~not refined~ and ~where is my East room~ She appears only to love Mansfield Park for its comforts and serenity and not for the idiots who raised her, and if you haven't guessed it, because of Edmund, which seems really weird, but hey, Patty Hearst fell for it so whatever.

So the first part of her life is spent pining for her family and I hope to hell pining for some respect and true affection for her as a person, and not as a silent companion (Lady Bertram), a whipping boy (Mrs. Norris), a foil (Maria and Julia), or worse, a meek blow up doll with a bible and a major case of hero-worship (Edmund, ugh). And when she finally goes home to Portsmouth, she's like, I hate these people, they are so crass and below me thanks to nurture vs. nature and all my siblings suck except for Susan who is the only one even remotely like me. So this selfless, mild-mannered heroine actually kind of stuck up and highfalutin' and has to order takeout every night to avoid the family meals. It's like the opposite of Overboard but without the awesomeness of Kurt Russell and Goldie Hawn.

And don't get me started on Edmund. You know, when Stephenie Meyer was creating the fiasco that is Twilight, she chose the name Edward because that was the name of the hero in Sense and Sensibility, and Edmund was the hero of Mansfield Park. And I think she shaped Edward Cullen on old Edmund Bertram because E.B. basically gets to shape his beloved to his standards of femininity from the age of 10 onwards, tells her what to do, when to do it, when she's tired, when she should go riding, etc.

Oh, and he's an absolute idiot who can't even tell that when a woman says "Hey I think the clergy is stupid and you are too and it's too bad you aren't eldest with all the money and no requirements to work for it" that, since you are to go into the clergy and don't give a shit about money so much, that she is not the woman for you.
And when she is all "I love society" and you're like "towns breed indecency" and you don't listen and assume that she's simply been corrupted by others and isn't thinking for herself? Sometimes a chick just isn't into the same shit that you are. That's another part of his horrible personality. He doesn't accept Mary for who she is, instead he tries to do the same crap he did to Fanny. And when it doesn't work, well thank God the prototype was lying around doing needlework in his living room I guess.
Captain Obvious: I didn't like Mansfield Park. I read a bunch of critiques and reviews and essays on it (well I skimmed like four) and while there's not as much Edmund hate as I have in them, there is still a lot of controversy on Fanny herself. I wasn't pleased in the end, I wasn't happy with anyone, and I should have just wikied the book plot.

Northanger Abbey better beat the pants off this book, because I'm already 150 pages in.


Grade: D-