Prancercise is the new Turbo Kick

Prancercise is the new Turbo Kick 2

Share

A few hours ago, my good friend Rachael tagged me in the following Facebook post.

prancercise-fbI was delighted and flattered. A fitness video made Rachael think of me? Picture me blushing, gazing down at the grown while awkwardly shuffling my feet and murmuring ‘Aw, shucks’.

Alright, fine. Picture me doing a cart-wheel while screaming ‘I am the fitness CHAMPION!!!!!’ and then immediately watching the video.

While some might feel offended at being the first person who came to mind after watching a Prancercise video, I was completely over the moon. I think you’ll see why after viewing this sheer display of swagger and coordination yourself.

In case you’re unable to view video at the moment, allow me to share the featured image from the Prancercise website. It’s enough for you to get the gist of it.

prancercise

And yes. There’s totally a website. (Not to mention an instructional book entitled Prancercise: The Art of Physical and Spiritual Excellence. I’d recommend picking up your copy ASAP…word on the street is they’re selling like hot cakes.)

The more I learn about the art of aerobic prancing, the more it seems that Prancercise creator, Joanna Rohrback is my fitness guru…and possibly my soul mate. Why you ask?

  • She defines Prancercise as ‘A springy, rhythmic way of moving forward,similar to a horse’s gait and ideally induced by elation.’ It’s almost as if I wrote it myself!
  • Joanna herself says that,  “It’s about Self-Expression. It’s about Non-violence. It’s about Conservation.” (I think I just found my twirly, sparkly alternative to composting.)
  • She believes in ‘Using imagery to imagine ourselves as a beautiful animal that’s a symbol of beauty, strength and endurance while we’re exercising in order to free our minds of any self-image that may be less appealing. . . Striving to be the best “ME” you can be!!’ (Do you think it still counts as Prancercise if I pretend to be a chihuahua?)
  • Joanna embraces ‘Getting back to nature by exercising in it rather than a confined, unnatural, germ laden environment.’ A fitness guru who hates exercising in germs? Finally.

There are dozens of additional reasons to adore Joanna and her prancing community of workout/equestrian enthusiasts, but instead of wasting my time listing them all, I’ve decided to instead spend those precious moments creating my own spin-off of her gallop-tastic exercise program.

trotercise

Not to toot my own horn or anything…but I think this new venture is going to make me ridiculously wealthy and give me really skinny thighs.

Share

Liked this? Then try these:

No one puts Penny in the corner

No one puts Penny in the corner 5

Share

Two weeks ago, the need arose to check our two little girls in for their very first stay at a doggie hotel. I was in Los Angeles, and Scott was travelling to Nebraska for the weekend. We’d only had Penny for a couple of days, and Jolie tends to implode in kennel situations, so we were nervous to say the least. To ease their apprehensions–as well as our own–we booked three and a half days in  the “Tigger’s Inn Suite”.

tigger's-inn-suite

A cot, television and semi-artistic wall mural — what’s not to love? At $125 their extended weekend stay was a bit pricey, but we felt the private suite and round the clock attention from certified Vet Techs was totally worth it. Right?

The correct answer is “sort of“.

Scott was delighted to see Penny and Jolie snuggling together on the cot when he picked them up Monday evening. Sure, Penny hadn’t eaten the entire time and Jolie had single-handedly destroyed the weather strip at the base of the suite’s door frame….but at least they had bonded!

I shared the experience with my friend Kayla, who also happens to be the girls’ auntie. A few days later, the subject arose again.

“One of my clients works at the boarding place, and I asked her about the girls.” Kayla informed me. Naturally, I was dying to hear the inside scoop on their adventures in Tigger’s Inn.

“What did she say?” I asked excitedly.

“Well…” Kayla continued, “She said they didn’t really snuggle at all. They just kept viciously barking at everyone.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Jolie and Penny are notorious for tag team barking at just about anything that moves…particularly horses, bicycles, and small children. I can’t say this news was all that shocking.

“Did she say anything else?” I snickered.

“Yeah,” Kayla giggled, “I believe her exact words were something along the lines of ‘I hope they didn’t pay a bunch of money for that Penny dog. She’s the weirdest looking Miniature Pinscher I’ve ever seen! Last time I checked, Min Pins aren’t supposed to have ear tufts.”

ear-tufts

Oh, those ear tufts. They were the first thing we noticed when meeting Penny for the first time. They’re black, scraggly and genuinely strange-looking. Scott thinks her fur is in denial that her ears are docked, and keeps trying to grow back in protest. I’m not sure what they are or how they came to be, but as soon as we got in the car after our meet and greet, I announced their death sentence.

“Those wispy hairs hanging off her ears have got to go.”

A few weeks later, I’ve started to change my tune. (In other words, I may or may not have attempted to braid them last night.)

Our local Vet Tech isn’t the only one with disdain for Penny’s one-of-a-kind ear tufts. Scott absolutely despises them and keeps trying to snip them off behind my back. Call me crazy, but this seems inherently wrong. Sure…they may not be the most aesthetically pleasing things in the world…but their hers. They make her unique and quirky. They blow in the wind when she sticks her head out the car window. Much like my stretch marks, they are a mark of character.

(Although if erasing my stretch marks could be done with a quick snip of the kitchen shears, I’d be all over it.)

I’ve resorted to hiding all four pairs of scissors and never leaving Scott and Penny alone unattended. Am I being ridiculous? Delusional? Perhaps. But what if those ugly little wisps never grow back? Won’t trimming her tufts be the canine equivalent of that horrible nose job Jennifer Grey from Dirty Dancing had done that pretty much ruined her acting career?

Alright…maybe I’m being a little dramatic. But no one puts Penny in the corner. (Especially if they’re trying to cut off her ear hair.)

Share

Liked this? Then try these:

Sick Day

Sick Day 6

Share

My sincerest apologies for playing blog hooky on Friday. A sudden bout of food poisoning meant I was far too sick to work, blog, or even share my new favorite photo — a screenshot from a video of Scott pretending to be a monster.

(He was attempting to frighten Penny. It worked…sort of.)

In hindsight, I think my ailment was the good Lord’s way of keeping me from posting that image all over internet land. Scott is wearing nothing but Calvin Klein briefs in sed photograph, and looks less like he’s harassing a dog and more like he’s…well….I’ll leave that one up to your imagination.

I suppose sometimes food poisoning can be a blessing in disguise.

Since I’m no longer uploading the incriminating screenshot, I suppose I can share a list of my sick day rituals as a poor attempt at a consolation prize.

 

TOP 10 THINGS I DO WHEN I’M SICK

10. Send Scott overly dramatic text messages detailing the colors of whatever fluids happen to be coming out of me.

9. Diagnose myself with testicular cancer as the result of a paranoid WebMD rampage.

8. Eat cheese. (So long as it’s not a stomach bug…I mean, who knows when the testicular cancer is going to take me? Might as well enjoy the extra lactose while I can.)

7. Lie in bed weeping. I’ll cry out “I wish I was dead!” every hour or so, just to keep things interesting for the neighbors.

6. Allow the dogs to lick the tears from my face–while continuing to verbally wish I was deceased, of course.

5. Rise from bed every four hours to order something off Amazon. It just makes me feel better, okay!?

4. Send Scott overly dramatic photo text messages actually showing him the colors of whatever fluids happen to be coming out of me.

3. Sleep. For some strange reason, there’s usually a dream about Pete Wentz involved.

2. Call my Mom and Dad and make them feel  sorry for me.

1. Eat more cheese.

******

How do you cope when you’re under the weather? Please tell me I’m not the only one that soothes myself with dairy products and a testicular cancer diagnosis. (Although the Pete Wentz thing is probably the most embarrassing, if we’re being honest.)

Share

Liked this? Then try these:

13 years of coffee

13 years of coffee 12

Share

I have vivid memories of my mother preparing coffee for my grandparents when they would come visit us in Alaska. The sight of my beloved Grandma Margaret in curlers frightened me to tears (literally) and the fragrant aroma of her morning joe only made matters worse. Once I realized it was actually her underneath those terrifying foam rollers, I mustered the courage to ask “Why do you drink something that smells like poop, Grandma?”

My, how things have changed.

drinking-coffee

 

As a Norwegian Lutheran raised in Seattle, my love affair with coffee was pretty much inevitable. Yet as I sipped on my Venti Americano at the Seattle Airport last week, it suddenly dawned on me that I’ve come a long way in regards to my java preferences. Let’s take a caffeinated journey down memory lane, shall we?

2000

My high school opens up a coffee cart. (Yes, when you live in the Pacific Northwest, high schools have coffee carts.) I collect spare change from around my house until I have $3.00 saved for a Peach Italian Soda…extra whip cream, of course.

(When you’re sixteen-years-old and have the metabolism of a hyperactive chihuahua, you always get extra whip cream.)

2001

I decide to venture out of my sugary comfort zone and try actual coffee–in the form of a $2.50 mocha from the local parking coffee kiosk. Parking lot coffee kiosks are a trashy (yet kind of awesome) trademark of the Pacific Northwest. They’re on every single block in my hometown of Tacoma, and are basically miniature drive-thru sheds that provides affordable mocha’s, smoothies, latte’s–even the occasional sexual favor!

I like to think of them as Starbucks' inbred second cousin who wears daisy dukes and drinks orange soda for breakfast.

I like to think of them as Starbucks’ inbred second cousin who wears daisy dukes and drinks orange soda for breakfast.

2002

I stumble upon the Tacoma Mall Starbucks on a Saturday with friends. Naturally, a Venti Caramel Frappuccino is ordered. I quickly realize that the $5.00 Mom allocated for lunch at the food court is much more wisely spent on 20 ounces of frozen, sugary status in a cup!  (Little did I know my drink had just as many calories as the fish and chips I was planning on ordering in the first place.)

After five minutes of slurping, my head feels as if it’s blinking. I assume it’s from the caffeine, but don’t really care as the green logo on my cup makes me look like I’m the newest member of Destiny’s Child.

Alright…maybe that’s a bit of a stretch.

Still, the Frappuccino quickly becomes my mall indulgence of choice. On the days when I don’t have the cash, I simply order a big ol’ water, purely so I can be seen with the logo printed cup.

Destiny’s Child, here I come.

 

2003-2006

The college years. Believe it or not, I actually made it through undergrad without coffee.

Trust me…I’m as shocked as you are.

 

2007

Graduate school. The occasional trip to the Starbucks across from campus is made. Luckily, I’ve graduated to dirty chai lattes at this point. (Latte with a splash of chai tea. It’s still one of my favorite treats.)

 

2009

Scott and I return to the land of milk and honey espresso. You may know it as Seattle. As luck would have it, there’s a Starbucks across the street from our condo. Not to mention seven other coffee shops, all of which are incredibly delicious and swanky looking. While working from home, my two drinks a day habit begins. The following beverages plan an integral role in my day-to-day rotation:

  • Skinny Caramel Macchiato* (when I’m being “good”)
  • Salted Caramel Mocha (when I’m being “bad”)
  • Soy Cappuccino (when I’m attempting to cut out dairy)
  • Skinny Coffee Frappuccino (an update from my mall rat days that has less sugar and calories)
  • Pumpkin Spice Latte (when I’m  feeling festive)
  • Lemon Loaf and/or Apple Fritter (I know it’s not technically coffee…but they’re so good, I felt they deserved and honorable mention.)

*Yes…I capitalize the name of my coffee drinks. They are that important.

2010

I begin a new job that requires commuting to an actual office. Obviously, my daily ritual of stopping at Starbucks on the way in is absolutely vital to my happiness and productivity. Add to this the weekly Starbucks runs with coworkers, and things begin to spiral out of control. To make matters worse, I get hired to teach Turbo Kick and Boot Camp at the Starbuck’s Corporate Headquarters “Java Gym” for employees. Like a moth to the flame, I go to desperate measures to feed my addiction before and after classes.

Translation? 2010 was the year I spent an estimated $1,400 at Starbies.

(It’s way easier to do than one might assume.)

 

2012

Scott and I relocate to ‘Sota.

To a town with no Starbucks.

You can read about my green mermaid withdrawals here, here and here.

 

Present Day

While Smalltown has since acquired a Stargetbucks, I rarely ever go there. Truth be told, I actually prefer Caribou Coffee or Dunn Brothers. Even then, it’s pretty rare that I choose to caffeinate at an actual coffee shop. Turns out that when you work from home and aren’t in walking distances of overpriced lattes, leaving the house for coffee is more of a chore than a treat. Now that I have my trusty Keurig, making coffee myself is the highlight of my morning.

Sure, I still hit up Starbies or Caribou from time to time…but it’s usually when I’m on a road trip or at the airport. And forget about lattes…I now take my java black and strong. An Americano or drip coffee suits me just fine. Perhaps the cold Minnesota winter was responsible for this change in palette? Or maybe I’m just slowly morphing into my Grandma Margaret? (Minus the foam rollers, of course.)

Katrina’s new rules of coffee:

  • The darker the better. Blonde roast? No thanks.
  • Always with a splash of cream. Not whole milk, soy, or almond milk. Good old cream. You only live once, right?
  • Two cups every morning. No more, no less.
  • I grind whole bean coffee (Starbucks Caffe Verona is my current fave) myself in our Blendtec. It grinds the beans finer, so I end up using less coffee per cup.
  • I save my cash (and the environment) by putting my grinds in these  Cafe Cup Reusable Single Cup Pods. They were a gift from my mother-in-law last Christmas, and work so much better than the more expensive Keurig version. I think she got them at the dollar store.

It’s amazing what time can do for one’s coffee preferences. A good friend of mine–who happens to manage a Starbucks–swears he can tell so much about a person by their drink order. I’m not quite sure what my Venti Americano with a splash of cream says about me…but I’m secretly hoping it involves Destiny’s Child.

What’s your favorite drink? And do you make coffee at home? Or hit up a fave coffee spot everyday? If anyone’s in the market for a Keurig, I’ve been the proud owner of this model for nearly a year and am completely smitten.

Share

Liked this? Then try these: