Anywhoo, while on today’s lunch break, I decided to stalk the twitter feed. I came across an excellent little treadmill workout that Fitness magazine tweeted Sunday afternoon during The ING New York City Marathon. Most of my workitout routines as of late have been treadmill-dependent, but I needed a little zsa zsa zsu to put a break in the monotony. Ya dig?

The interval sweat sesh went a little somethin’ like this:

#8 on Fitness mag's feature, "Our Best Cardio Workouts"

But, before the 60 minutes of full-fledged cardio shenanigans could begin. The bod’ needed some nourishment:

I ate sixteen bowls of cereal! OK, long story short: The camera has been in a funk lately. I have no idea why this picture looks like generic wall paper--ugly at that--but regardless, at least it's working. Baby steps.

The pre-cardio dinner consisted of one banana, mixed with Honey Bunches of Oats and milk. I planned on working out an hour-and-a-half later so I wanted chow down on something I could digest in time. As usual, I had great intentions, but ended up noshing on some chocolate chips and a brownie. It’s the thought that counts though, right??

After getting some work done, I hopped on the treadmill–with a little T-Swift and Jason Derulo in tow–and did my thang. Needless to say, I really enjoyed this workout. I’m a pretty impatient person, with self-diagnosed A.D.D., so this interval workout was perfect. I even wrote the routine down on two post-it notes so I could follow along with ease.

I don’t usually warm-up for 10 minutes, but the 5.0 MPH warm-up pace was perfect. Around the 27-minute mark, my stomach started kicking me for pre-gaming an intense cardio session with brownies, but coasting back into 5.0 MPH helped my body curb the self-induced cramps (I really need to learn how to just say no to the chocolate).

I think this is the first time I’ve run more than 5 miles consecutively in over a month. The run-sprint-jog circuit kept my heart rate up, while allowing my body to rest as I geared up for the 6.5 MPH runs and 7.5 MPH sprints.

By the time I hit the 55-minute mark I was pooped–and ready to slow my stride down to a leisurely stroll for the last 5 minutes.

I capped it all off with a fabulous routine consisting of regular and sideways planks. BOOM. I’m gonna feel that tomorrow in a hurts so good kind of way.

Night ya’ll!

1. Engaging in charitable acts. Although I have bigger things in mind, my current charitable act is participating in Yoplait’s “Save Lids to Save Lives“, a breast cancer awareness campaign that donates 10 cents for every lid mailed back to Yoplait. Sounds kind of gross, but I do wash all my lids, dad.

I just started saving yesterday and I'm already up to four! At that rate, I'll have two-dollars worth by Friday. Baby steps.

2. Physical reminders. Sometimes you have to remind yourself to “be happy” in the most obvious of ways. During my junior and senior years of college I decorated my bedroom walls with inspirational quotes. Some posters simply read, “Strive to Be Happy.”

How can you not smile when you see a creepy little smirk staring you down? Maybe I should consider getting this emblem tattooed on my hand.

3. Songs the “speak” to me–pun intended. T-Swift’s third album released yesterday at midnight, so naturally I swung by the local Target after work, again, to pick up her most recent composition of lyrical/musical genius. Needless to say, she didn’t fall short of my standards. Although, my new favorite song off her album is “Mean,” I’ll go ahead and post my first favorite song off her “Speak” album that released early (I could not find a quality version of “Mean” on the ‘Tube)

4. The combination of chocolate and uplifting quotes. Honestly, what could be better? Yesterday my mom purchased Dove chocolates on her grocery shopping spree, and naturally, I ate. Lifting each morsel of chocolate, only to find a sweet little pick-me-up saying inside? Yea man, that’s the good stuff.

I've also decided that I'm going to share the wealth, by tweeting the tasty words gracing each wrapper. It makes me feel like a modern-day Mother Teresa. Ya know, spreading the love and all.

5. Workin’ it out. Yea I sounds rather toolish uttering–err, typing–those words, but working out really does make me feel significantly more happy than I had felt prior to picking up the free weights, pressing play on the yoga DVD, or lacing up the sneakers.

Anywhoo, I gotta hit the hay. Are ya’ happy, now? Peace!

p.s. I dedicate this post to my dad, who genuinely asks about my happiness on a daily basis.

Anyways, Thursday evening I greeted by this pathetic face, upon entering the casa after work:

Poor little Gail had received some sort of dental surgery earlier that day and was still sedated from the drugs. Woe is Gail.

Thursday evening I actually took a picture of my dinner because it was a new little SnackFace-inspired meal that I’m currently addicted to. However, seeing as how I’m currently relying on my phone for all blog visuals, I opted against it. The photo quality made it look anything but appealing. But, for you curious folk, I mixed a tablespoon of peanut butter into my apple & cinnamon oatmeal to give it a little umph of protein. Needless to say, I wish I would have tried this improv a little earlier in life, to be honest. The cinnamon mixed with peanut butter taste created a party in my mouth that can only be matched by oh…say, brownies, Chasteen cookies, or this delicious Graeter’s coffee cake a co-worker brought to work last week. OK, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but I savored each and every  bite and cried a little inside when I ate the bowl clean.

Eventually, I made a trip to Target to pick up a few essentials:

OK, maybe the most recent issue of GLAMOUR isn't necessarily an essential, but sometimes my mouth waters when I see the glossy covers of magazines staring me down in the checkout line. T-Swift gracing the cover tipped me over the edge. T-Swift's my girl!

I wogged for 4.5-miles to get my workitout on and followed up with a minute of bicycle kicks and 15 dips.

Friday, I headed straight to Beej’s humble abode to tailgate for the UC-USF game where I proceeded to send my dad inaccurate scores during the first quarter and run into friends/family:

da' fam

da' friends. OU, Oh yeah.

The rest of the weekend consisted of family parties and about 5 miles of wogging to sweat off my weekend. On that note, I think I need to find a new hobby. Peace!

So…I’ve been doing a lot of wogging lately. Not a word, you say? Oh, but it is. Before you discriminate against my newfound favorite word, don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it. Actually, you probably have.

“Wogging is a word used in some circles to describe a combination of jogging and walking, or walking and running,” reports WebMD.com

Truth be told, I’m not a fan of formality while blogging, but I just wanted to prove that this two-syllable utterance that sounds like you’re chomping mouthful of Honey Bunches of Oat as it “rolls” off the tongue, is in fact, a word.

OK, so now that I’ve got that off my chest…t’s on to bigger and better things. I present you with…dundundun. THE ULTIMATE WORKITOUT PLAYLIST (cue Jock James music):

Now let it be known that everyone’s individual music tastes and styles are unique and should be embraced as such; however, regardless of lyrics, or genre, a certain beat puts a little extra swag in your step. And with that I bring you number 1: Stuntin’ Like Mufasa feat. Lil’ Wayne.

Only Lil’ Wayne could turn one of my favorite Disney classics into a song requiring parental advisory. Regardless, of how many eff bombs he drops, the combination of rap and wind instruments is enough to keep me stuntin’.

Number 2: Dynamite, Taio Cruz. In order to keep this post from becoming visually jarring, I’ve decided to switch between linking and embedding videos. Yet, nothing does this song quite as much justice as the following photograph:

Honestly, how many other songs can evoke such emotion-and, disgusting faces? Well, if so, they are featured in this post.

Honestly, we could have ended there, but alas, the post must go on. Seeing as how I am a bit of a hypochondriac, I have self-diagnosed myself with Bieber Fever. Even though I like–no love–almost all of his musical creations, it was tough to pick just one. After compiling a detailed lists of all the pros and cons of each and every song off Bieber’s “My World” album, I made a final selection. Yet despite my countless hours of debating I pulled a Loyd Christmas, and went with my instincts on this one. Without further adieu I present song number 3: Baby, Justin Bieber feat. Ludacris.

You know how sometimes–no matter how much you love a song–you’ll only endure the first 20 or 30 seconds before promptly hitting “next”? This is where songs 4 and 5 come into play. Please Don’t Go and The Way It Is are two of my favorite mashups created by The Stereo Bomb, an audio production team based out of New York, New York. Each songs features various artists, genres and styles, making every 15 seconds an unexpected surprise–unless you’ve listened to their playlist so much you could sing it in your sleep, of course. Half of the duo calls Ohio University one of his homes, making the music that much better. Do yourself a favor and download their playlist. I’m convinced they sprinkle their audio with crack. It’s that addicting.

Song number 5 is meant for those who can exercise and laugh at the same time. Antoine Dodson, the breakout artist of the summer became a YouTube sensation overnight after preaching his two cents about a local criminal who allegedly “climbed into his window” to snatch him and his people up. Thanks to audio and voice synthesizers this T-Pain-esque music video was created:

For anyone who is a fan of Will Smith and his cocky lyrics–that are well-deserved, I must say–you will certainly enjoy the music of his 9-year-old daughter, Willow Smith. This hip-hoppy, unbelievably repetitive little number will definitely amp up your two-step. However, Will Smith is a certified B@d@$$, so would you really expect anything less? Song number 6, I Whip My Hair, Willow Smith.

Songs number 7 and 8 are both newbies that I have become particularly obsessed with during the past 72 hours. The first of the two, Check It Out, Nicki Minaj feat. Will.I.Am. vividly brings me back to my senior prom when my best friend decided to play Video Killed the Radio Star over and over and over again. And, to make matters worse, my prom date encouraged her annoying little antics. However, years later I find myself just as obsessed with a song that includes the aforementioned in a remix.

Song number 8, Love Like Woe, The Ready Set is just as enjoyable:

Obviously no ultimate workitout playlist would be complete without a song from the 90′s. This selection wasn’t easy, and honestly it was pretty much a 100-way tie. What can I say? I love the 90′s. But, seeing as how I attended a Catholic all-girls school for the first 12 years of my education, nostalgia lead me to select: Baby One More Time, Britney Spears.

Now let’s be honest, after an intense half-hour of workin’ it out, chances are, your lungs are gasping for air and lookin’ for a nice little cool down. Post-workitout music should be meditative and relaxing. And with that, I leave you with song number 10: Don’t Go Chasin’ Waterfalls, TLC.

Alright, there you have it, my valiant and biased attempt at creating the ultimate workitout playlist.

On that note, what did I miss?! Please feel free to lengthen the playlist with your excellent comments, friends.

Thursday evening I enjoyed a much-needed dinner date with my long-lost friend, Beej. Instead of opting for a hit ‘n run joint, we decided to check out the downtown Cincinnati scene. We grabbed a brewski at a corner pub in Over the Rhine, before heading to a classier joint. Luckily, I was still sporting my work duds and fit the dress code by default. Beej on the other hand, not so much. We decided he should’ve work a tuxedo t-shirt in order to give off a classy, yet “I like to party vibe.”

Precious.

Friday’s festivities were a doozy. I worked until five, picked up fellow Bobcats until my white Echo (golf cart) looked like a clown car, fought the battle of rush hour traffic, and finally arrived in the Promised Land that is Athens, Ohio, for homecoming weekend. Friday evening looked a little somethin’ like this:

Hangin' with friends.

Witnessing Ohio University’s Marching 110 perform during primetime hours at bars (Still kickin’ myself for not snappin’ a pic. Sigh.).

Scheduling mini meetings with old roomies:

Chosen location to meet: the College Inn. Perfect.

The evening ended with a few roommates from junior year (and myself) celebrating our reunion at the place we found most appropriate–our old house. Can you say rendezvous while experiencing deja vu?! We acted like we owned the place and even ordered pizza. Homecoming in the most literal sense of the word. Oh sweet nostalgia.

Saturday morning came too quickly; however, unlike most, I waited ’til the sun rose to put my party pants on. A few of my comrades awoke at the ripe hour of 4:30 a.m.–yes, as in the morning, to begin their homecoming festivities. Insane? Warriors? The cream of OU’s partying crop? I haven’t quite figured out the proper adjective to describe these folks, but I’ve narrowed it down to the three aforementioned.

Later in the day I would be venturing into off to Columbus, Ohio to watch two college friends participate in the holy sacrament of marriage, and therefore kept myself respectable:

Most people respect my ability to break it down like J-Timberlake. Same difference. No?

Oh, I also watched the homecoming parade; however, found myself quite distracted by the dude attempting to scale a tiny tree:

Photo Courtesy of Ally Brown. For those wondering, that tree snapped a few minutes later.

Eventually, Janie, former El Presidente, and myself hit the road jack. In spite of the fact that I decided to chug a Coke on the way, and therefore had to pee like a racehorse–oh, and remembering that I forgot to bring my gift about 45 minutes into the drive–it was quite an enjoyable experience. The ceremony was beautiful and it was great catching up with friends–near and far–that I hadn’t seen in a while.

My fave ladies in Chi-town! Photo courtesy of Al-Pal.

Eventually I headed back to Athens with the carpool crew and felt like a walking zombie by the end of the evening.

Sunday consisted of brunch at the d-hall! Jessica Ryan, if you are reading, THANK YOU!

The weekend ended with a little trip down memory lane:

Washington Hall dormitory. Living here during my freshman year of college molded me into the fine young woman I am today. And for that, I am thankful.

Anyhoo, looks like the Sandman finally decided to make his rounds before midnight. Can I get a hallelujah?! Tune in tomorrow if you wanna hear about the latest songs I’ve been workin’ it out to lately (and you should too). Peace!

For the second day in a row, I photographed my breakfast meal. Although, I’ve recently rekindled my love for cinnamon and apple oatmeal, a more conventional delicacy tickled my fancy:

Ta dahhhhhh. I couldn't decide if I wanted Cap'n Crunch or granola so I did the most logical thing and simply combined. Yum-ay.

Lunch was actually even better. I wandered down the street during my lunch break for some co-workerly bonding at Skyline. I decided to abstain from my paparazzi-esque tendencies. I’m only a little over a month deep into the job ya know. I ordered two chili-cheese coneys with mustard and no onions. So good. Make-your-mouth-water kinda good.

After work I made a pit stop at the nearest Kroger to purchase a wedding card and a few hair accessories for my mane:

Old school foam rollers. I'm convinced they are the only hair tool that will give my locks any volume whatsoever. The colorful headband was a nice little accessory that tipped me from "maybe" to "yes puh-lease" on the purchase scale.

Oh, around dinnertime I pulled a Martha Stewart and did a bit of baking. And by baking I mean that I popped pre-packaged cookie dough on an aluminum sheet and called it a day. They turned out realll nice though:

White chocolate macadamia nut cookies? Don't mind if I do.

Eventually I got my workitout on for the fourth straight day in a row. Ca-razy, huh? I am seriously so excited to see my long-lost friends this weekend–many of whom live hours away now–that I need an outlet to control my enthusiasm. A hearty sweat-sesh is the only thing keeping me from spontaneously combusting.

The routine went a lil’ somethin’ like this:

• 2.25 miles running
• 2.25 miles walking
• a minute of fabulous bicycle kicks
• 15 dips

Before I roll out, I should probably introduce the guest who has graced me with her fury little presence this evening:

She's already whining for my parents as I type. Pathetic. Would you like some cheese with that wine, Abbers?

G’night all!

Alrighty, that’s neither here nor there. Let’s get down to business, folks. My morning started promptly around 6:50 in the a.m. After two snooze buttons, and a tall glass of water, I chowed down on this fine little delicacy:

I took a little hiatus from this breakfast staple, but I fell in love all over again this morning.

I don’t photograph everything I eat, just the snacks/meals that get me pumped about life, fyi. Sadly, this is today’s only cuisine that fit into such a category. Sigh.

Now, onto the good stuff. Over the past week or so, I have noticed soreness on the arch of my foot while running. Not to mention that my feet would never make it on “America’s Next Top Foot Model” (word vomit exhibit A), thanks to all the wear ‘n tear I have subjected my innocent not-so-little paws to over the past several years. Well anyways, enough is enough. I finally decided to cut my losses and go to a shoe store selling footwear made specifically for running/walking. So right after work, I headed down the street to Bob Roncker’s Running Spot.

The man himself. I actually interviewed him last summer to gain personal insight on the best ways to train for distance running competitions. Genuinely great guy.

Immediately upon entering the store, a tall, friendly, I-wish-I-were-that-tan lady greeted me, and asked what kind of shoes I wanted.

My response: “Uh, any kind of shoe that’s good for running.”

This lady was beyond helpful and friendly, but I vividly imagined her stating, “Ah, fresh meat, and easy sales commission,” to herself. She probably didn’t think this, but I constantly create fake scenarios in my head and this is a prime example.

Anyways, purchasing shoes from the Spot was an experience unlike any other. You think I’m joking. I’m not. First, the lady measured my shoes size, and then asked me to walk in front of her so she could determine which type of shoes I needed (kind of like “America’s Top Foot Model,” right?).

Next, she brought out three shoe boxes and placed each shoe on my foot for a proper fitting. I felt like Cinderella. I felt like Charlotte from Sex & the City in the episode where the salesman gives her a pair of shoes for free after she blissfully tried on the “perfect” pair. I felt like I never wanted to leave the store.

Even though every shoe felt comfortable and I could see myself fostering loving sentiments toward each and every pair, one duo just stood out above the others. And I had to go with my gut instinct:

If loving this shoe is wrong, I don't wanna be right.

I decided to take these bad boys out for a little spin when I got home. I attempted to run a solid four miles, but sadly, the “enhanced lung capacity upgrade” just didn’t fit into my budget. In my defense, Cincinnati wasn’t nicknamed the “City of Seven Hills” for nothing. Regardless of my endurance, my feet were in Heaven. ‘Nuff said.

On that note, my bed sounds like Heaven. Later gators!

Anywhoo, let’s get back to the ol’ grind. Yesterday and today’s workout were one in the same. I ran three miles on the treadmill and walked 1.5. I followed up with a fabulous routine of bicycle kicks for a minute, forward and sideways planks, and topped it all off with some dips (no, no, not that kind of dip–actually just read a little smarticle about the harmful effects of dip on ESPN).

I had big plans of running outside today–especially after the day went by and I could feel it flyin’ like a hand out the window in the wind. Seriously, do yourself a favor and take three minutes and forty-five seconds out of your life to listen to that song. It pumps me up and I immediately take on the persona of Shania Twain when this tune strikes my eardrums. Anyways, I was freakin’ tired after work and decided I needed a nap more than Joanie needs Chachi. WOW that was an awful comparison.

Why so tired you wonder? Because I was doin’ it live downtown cheerin’ on the Redlegs!

My camera is currently acting up, but luckily I can always depend on my padre to take copious amounts of pictures from his beloved iPhone.

In spite of the unfortunate series (stole that one off the Cincy Enquirer‘s front page) it was pretty cool seeing Cincinnati so pumped up for the play-offs. Also, I certainly enjoyed watching my dad start a “Let’s go Reds!” chant as he exited Cadillac Ranch. For the first three or so chants, most people just stared and judged, I jumped in for moral support, and eventually about 50 or 60 people joined in. I teared up. It was beautiful.

On a totally unrelated note, I had Taco John’s for the first time in my life after a co-worked tugged at my arm (no pulling–it took like two seconds to convince me). I enjoyed a small taco salad with consisting of the works, minus peppers and beans. I also cut the mountain of cheese topping this meal in half because it was truly an ungodly amount. Oh, and in spite of my skepticism, I also tried vanilla Greek Yogurt for the first time. More flavorful than I expected–good stuff!

Welp, I must be off. It’s been real kids. Peace out and sleep tight!

Well anyways, I present to you a post that really has Much Ado About Nothing. Here it goes!

Last weekend Laclie243 ventured to the Queen City and after spending Friday evening lounging around, we decided to do it up big and leave our beloved Del-hole Saturday evening to paint the town (no specific color). We met up with one of my old neighbors at OU and traveled across the Ohio River to enjoy some German ale:

Candid shot. I didn't take many pictures that evening and I needed a few visuals. Desperate times my friends, desperate times.

Eventually, our stomachs started to grumble. And when food beckons you gotta do what you gotta do:

And when a seemingly hygienic couple blatantly leaves an untouched pretzel with cheese at your table--well, you get the picture.

This week’s workitout routine went a little somethin’ like this:

Sunday: The express version of Mari Winsor Pilates, followed by some lunges, a minute of the plank, and then two 30-second planks on each side.

Monday: I did some considerable tossing and turning in bed on Sunday night and really wasn’t up for an intense workout. Plus, our treadmill had just decided to rebel against our family because of all of the wear ‘n tear it has put up with during the past four years. Can’t say I blame it. I personally don’t enjoy being walked all over. I mean everyone–or thing has their breaking points. Sigh.

Around 8:30 I ventured outside with the intention of walking the 3.5-mile loop around my neighborhood, but about a quarter-mile in I was freaked out by how dark it was outside and turned around. I have NO desire to end up on the side of a milk carton. I then spent the rest of my evening google-ing exercise facilities near my local place of employment. My goal over the next two weeks is to find one I like and then seal the deal.

Tuesday: Went for a leisurely four-mile jog around the ‘hood. Damn it feels good to be a gangster.

Wednesday: After watching the first post-season Reds game, this girl needed to run off some steam. I decided to run four miles on the treadmill and walk one. Yep, you guessed it, the Buelterman family is just so fitness-obsessed we purchased a new treadmill within 72-hours of the alleged flake-out. Juuuuust kidding. My dad fixed it the night before! Whoop whoop! I’m still huntin’ around for a gym membership though. I promptly followed up with one minute of bicycle crunches and some free weights. I’ll let ya know when the gun show is.

Thursday: Ran/walked four miles on the treadmill.

Saturday: Ran/walked the four-mile loop around the ‘hood with Funkydancer613. Since we hadn’t worked out together in a while, I made it a point to remind her just how joyous an occasion any sweat session with my lovely self really is. I sang aloud and teared up when we spotted a tiny dead mouse on the sidewalk. I then compared the dead mouse to our dog Abby. True Life: I’m obsessed with my dog and need help fast.

A few other lively happenings of the past few days (photos courtesy of my dad and Funkydancer’s iPhones):

- Writing a few Examiner articles. Check ‘em out here. Have some running tips you’d like to hear about, or know of a runner you think I should interview? Drop me a line kids!

- Viewing the Red’s second post-season game at a fine little Mt. Adam’s establishment with the familia and a few Bobcats:

Loving life. The Reds were up at this point.

And, receiving uplifting texts from my dad about both the Reds and my dad–even though he sat within 10 feet of me:

Words to live by. Hopefully I never get thrown in the slammer, but it is comforting to know that my old man will bail me out.

- We also watched my cousin kick some A at his cross-country meet this weekend. I refrained from using any phrases that might crack him up while cheering him on. So I stuck with key phrases like “Go jake!” Go Panthers!” And “Elder, Elder, Elder, rah rah rah!”

Even though I really wanted to scream, "You're doing it live, Jake!"

Well anyways, in the words of Ludacris, I’m rollin’ out. Thank you to everyone who tuned in and an even more special thank you to anyone who humors me with comments. Whodey and go reds!

I’m about to venture off to the wonderful state of Californ-i-a for my cousin’s wedding so the blog will be on a temporary hiatus.

However, I did just see that the wordpress app has picture uploading capabilities so if something life-changing occurs during the next five days I’ll post it (let’s keep in mind that the continental breakfast having a waffle maker could in fact constitute as life-changing).

Anyways, cya later! Expect a full post of the week’s shenanigans early next week.

Ps. The photo shown below was a test. However, I was just munching on the contents of that bag so in all fairness, it’s kind of relevant.