25
Oh how I've missed the gym. I can't always get the juice up to go, but when I do, I ALWAYS feel better. Someone should remind me of this when I complain about feeling, well, anything negative. Being there, my heart rate rising, my body pouring sweat as I push forward, makes me feel in control of this lump of a body I've been given. [that is not a slam on myself: we're all given lumps, it's up to us to shape them as we choose] Of course, some of us get Charlize Theron lumps and some get Roseanne Barr lumps, but we can all make them into whatever we choose. Thus, the gym.
To be truly motivated, I need a good playlist. Today, I had an average heart rate of 124, I went 65 minutes on a Total Body Elliptical machine with a distance of 5.07 miles and 548 calories burned. This basically means I burned off my breakfast. Word. How did I do it? With this playlist:
The Believer--Common feat. John Legend (Warm Up)
God is a DJ--Pink
Umbrella (workout mix)--Power Music Workout
Independent Women, Pt. 1--Destiny's Child
Lapdance--N.E.R.D.
Womanizer--Britney Spears
Shake Ya Ass--Mystikal
Wind It Up--Gwen Stefani
Right Round--Flo Rida
Fergalicious--Fergie
Move Ya Body--Nina Sky
N**** What, N**** Who--Jay-Z
When I Grow Up--The Pussycat Dolls
Grown Woman--Mary J. Blige feat. Ludacris
Carry Out--Timbaland feat. Justin Timberlake
Everywhere I go--Lissie (Cool Down)
So Are You to Me--Eastmountainsouth (Cool Down)
Are some of these songs ruthlessly offensive? Yes. Does the feminist in me cringe at lines like "B**** ride a d*** like she's making a baby"? Yes. But I'm not really listening to the lyrics. I'm pushing myself to the beat, and try as I might, I can't get myself motivated to workout while listening to Nickelback or Creed. I need something dirty and pulsing and a little bit wrong, but I balance it with my lady-power anthems to feel a little less like a traitor to my gender.
Lunch out with the girls and then healthy dinner on deck--Healthy Choice, actually. I'm going to add a salad and extra vegetables to it to make it more filling, but I'm not in the mood to cook today. So thank you frozen food industry for supplying alternatives to bowls of Golden Grahams (my typical go to when I am too lazy to cook).
50
Finished Tomato Red last night as predicted. I don't want to give anything away for those of you who might want to read it. Woodrell has a pattern, at least in the three I've read by him so far. Set up a tragic situation with people who could not possibly be any more flawed, reveal something almost redeeming about them only to have that trait morph into something sinister/evil/just plain MESSED up, insert major tragedy (sometimes more than one), and then watch all the shit hit the spinning-so-slowly-it-barely-disturbs-a-fly-in-the-outhouse fan. And all of this takes place in the deepest dankest dens of the Ozarks. It's not pleasant, and it's not always easy to read, but I'll be damned if it isn't well written.
I started a novel last night that I picked up on the dollar clearance shelf at Half Price Books. I cannot tell you how many gems I've discovered there solely based on an intriguing title or back cover blurb. I'm not sure yet if this one falls into the gem category, but I'm going to stick with it. The book, An Experiment in Love, by Hillary Mantel (Brit, raised Catholic, attended a convent, lost her faith and at 18 began studying law at the London School of Economics), focuses on the relationship between three young girls in school in England in 1970. It's been alternately clever, descriptive, and slow thus far, btu there's something dark beneath the surface that's keeping me interested. I will most likely finish it tonight, so look for more on it tomorrow.
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