Category: Rant

Like pretty much everywhere on the face of the earth, it’s been hideously hot in Ohio for the last week. So, in an effort to beat the heat, we went to our local water park over the weekend. This was smart for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being A) the temperature is always 20 degrees hotter inside the gates of an amusement park than outside; B) the concrete had soaked up every bit of the heat and was like walking on fire; and C) everyone else in southwestern Ohio had the same bright idea.

Not that I’m bitter.

But the best part is that it was slightly overcast while we were there and, in an effort to not leave as the whitest person in attendance, I decided to forgo sunscreen.

BAD MOVE.

I am so burnt. Those are not my actual legs pictured above (mine are just as red but slightly less hairy) but take that image and apply it to my entire body and that should give you a good idea of what I’ve got going on.

And it’s making me mad. Seeing as how my skin tone is akin to copier paper, I have had a number of bad burns in my life. There was the time I thought putting on suntan oil at the beach was a good idea, and the time I spent a few days on the coast of Spain, not accounting for the fact that I was laying my beach towel directly on the equator. Burning is nothing new to me – but getting mad about it is. I think I am getting grumpy in my old age or something, because this time around any benefit I might eventually get from this scenario (as in possibly no longer being florescent) is vastly outweighed by the fact that I am extremely uncomfortable. And apparently at the ripe old age of 32, I’ve decided that comfort trumps all.

If you need me, I’ll be out shopping for zinc oxide and elastic waist pants.

I’ve recently discovered free group fitness classes offered by my employer on the lunch hour.

Ok, it’s not fair to say I just discovered them – I tried a few when they were first offered (oh, about 3 years ago) but haven’t been back since. A couple weeks ago, though, I gave them another try, and I absolutely love them. I’ve done sports cardio, circuit training, pilates, cardio toning and tai chi (not going back to that one, but the others are great).

So anyway, the problem is that Wednesday’s cardio toning class just about killed me. I didn’t even know it at the time – it didn’t seem TOO bad, and I felt good after it. The class contained about 30 minutes of upper body free weight exercises. And now? I don’t think I’ll ever have use of my arms again.

I have seriously never been so sore in my life. My biceps are KILLING ME. It hurts to lift anything at all. I can barely even straighten them, they hurt so bad. I feel like a complete wimp, but apparently I overdid it and now I’m paying the price.

Ugh.

Oh, and in case you were wondering – since I wrote about doing the Couch to 5k program again… I haven’t run a step.

I am the awesome.

Dear People Who Drive Down the Same Roads I Do,

Oh hi. Remember me? Probably not, but I’m the driver of one of the many cars you zoomed by in the last week or so. I imagine you didn’t see me, though, because you were in such a hurry. In fact, from the way you were driving, I must assume that you were either bleeding, in labor, or practicing for a local drag race.

I’m sure wherever you’re going is super duper important – you don’t want to be late for work, or maybe you don’t want to miss the first three minutes of The Bachelor.

But here’s the thing.

We live in rural Ohio. In case you haven’t noticed, the roads we travel down every day look pretty much like this.

And it is spring. Otherwise known as the time farmers plant shit. So it stands to reason that every once in a while we’re going to be caught behind one of these.

See that orange triangle on the back? Unless I’m remembering the study guide from my driver’s ed class incorrectly, that indicates a slow moving vehicle.

In other words, it means “Calm your ass down.”

Now, I’m no more of a fan of driving 30 miles per hour than you are. But I am, however, a fan of being alive. And I’m a fan of my kids being alive and even you being alive. I would prefer we all remain that way. So please, please stop passing me, the nice farmers, and the other drivers who have some sense when it’s not safe to do so. By “not safe,” I mean when there’s a double yellow, a curvy road, an upcoming hill… that kind of thing.

And for the love of all that is holy, please stop passing 14 cars and the offending farm equipment all at once.

Thank you.

XOXO,
Emily