The great stimulant experiment

DISCLAIMER: I'm not a moron.  I know pre-workout is for strength training.  With that said, read on...

Oh my holy God, y'all.  Pre-workout.  It should probably be illegal, because it was awesome.  And terrible.

So, I had some samples of pre-workout and other assorted things (delicious protein for days that I forget to pack my breakfast for work, mostly) from the Vitamin Shoppe (thanks, Strongman/ma'am competition!) and I thought, I wonder if this is all it's cracked up to be.  So I thought I'd give it a whirl.

It was orange-flavored.  And it tasted like glorious Tang.  Just like Grandma Irma used to make.

The stuff winners are made of, apparently.

I drank it on the way to the gym, and on my first few minutes on the elliptical.  Yes, it was cardio day.  I tried it anyway.

At first, I was like, "meh."  I felt pretty much the same.  On cardio day, I tend to get bored, and typically spend 5-10 minutes on one machine before switching to another, and another, and another.  

The patron saint of cardio day.

After about 20 minutes, I realized I was still on the elliptical, and wasn't bored yet.  Score one for pre-workout.

I checked my fitbit, and my heart rate was slightly higher than it normally is.  Now, it was still on the low-ish end for a cardio session (my beta blockers lower my heart rate, because SCIENCE!), and I'm not sure if it was higher because of the caffiene in the pre-workout or because my beta blockers were just decreased.  I'm going to say it was both.

The husband finished his training session, I hopped off the elliptical.  Checked the fitbit, and I'd burned about 90 more calories than normal in 35 minutes.  Score one for pre-workout.

Then, we went to the grocery store.

I could NOT shut up.  Words kept spilling out of my mouth and it felt like I had to say them or my brain would explode from being too full of thoughts and information.  I talk a lot to begin with, and according to Jeff, this "side effect" was EXTREMELY noticeable.

Conclusion:  pre-workout may or may not be straight up methamphetamines.  Having never used methamphetamines, I can't say for sure, but based on my knowledge of them (a few pharmacology classes and the movie "Requiem for a Dream"), I can only assume this is the case.  I do not suggest trying methamphetamines to test this hypothesis, by the way.

Pictured above: pre-workout supplement

Jeff has also asked me not to use the pre-workout any more, because of the incessant talking and, quote, "you were just weird."  I agree with this request...partially to honor Jeff's wishes, and partially because I WAS frickin weird on it.

Experiment over! 

Street Harassment. The uncoolest.

Ughhhhhhh, you guys.

Frickin street harassment.  Is it still street harassment if it happens in a park, on a trail?  Trail harassment?  Well, no matter, I'm going to call it street harassment anyway.

Let me tell you two little stories:

Early April 2014.  I'm feeling pretty good about myself because I've started walking to and from work.  The weather is glorious, I've got my favorite blue sweater on, and I'm on my way home to see my husband.  The day couldn't have been nicer.

Until I turn onto State Street.

"Go back to Burger King, fatty!" comes the shout from over a block away.

I try not to look at the person shouting, but I did before I could help myself.

"Yeah, you, you fat bitch!"

Oh, my tender little heart.  I am devastated.  My soul is shattered by these few, cruel words.  I continue walking home as hot, angry tears stream down my face under my polka-dotted sunglasses and immediately collapse into my husband's arms, sobbing uncontrollably.  I'm fat, I know it.  But do people REALLY need to take precious time from their day to spew hateful words at me?  Seems like a waste of energy, and yet it happened all. the. TIME.

Fast forward to yesterday.

It's a gorgeous, hot, sunny day, and I decided to take Taco for a walk in Telulah Park along the Newberry Trail.  Once we got to the park, it took us awhile to find the actual trail, but once we did it was peaceful and gorgeous.  We walked along the Fox River, barked at geese and ducks (just Taco), enjoyed the solitude, sat and dipped our feet in the river (just me), and then continued up the hill back to the park.  After meandering along the trail through the park, we came upon a park bench with three "gentlemen" (and that term is pretty generous, as you'll see).  

After letting the toddler that was with them pet Taco and introducing him to them as well, came the inevitable

"What's your name, baby?"

Response one: Please don't call me baby.  Response 2: Angela.  Because you will use my formal name, fools.

We kept walking about another mile and eventually turned around (I don't think the trail is a loop...but who knows because seriously, it's not marked well at all).

When we came upon their park bench, my new "friend" said "Did you come back for me?"

My sarcastic response was "Of course, I missed you so much these last fifteen minutes, total stranger."  I laughed and kept walking.

"Shake that ass, baby!" 

Oh.  HELL.  No.  I turned around while walking away (backward) and responded "No!" in my best scolding voice.  I turned back around and kept walking.

The three amigos and their baby then got up and started following me down the trail...or at least walking in the same direction.  They were mercifully slow because of the stroller and small child that was with them.

"You looking fine, girl!"

No response from me.

"Hey, you wanna be my girl?"

No response from me.

"I'd like to tap that ass."

No response from me.  At this point, my blood is boiling and I'm about ready to go ape on them, but I just want to get to my car and get home so I can complain about them to Jeff.

"Hey, Angela, are you into three-ways?"

At this point, I promptly lost my shit.  They were shouting in my direction as there was about 100 feet in between us on the trail.  I turned around and shouted back, "Yes, if you're into guys.  I'll invite my husband!"

"Aww hell no."  "Fuck that shit."  "You cocktease."  

Seriously?  Seriously?  SERIOUSLY?  Apparently being female and going for a walk with your fucking dog makes you a cocktease.  The more you know.

Here's the moral of the story.
Once upon a time, I thought that losing weight would make the street harassment stop.  I thought people shouted evil things at me because I was fat (well, still am kinda fat, but you know what I mean.  Fatter than current status), so when I lost weight, nobody would have cause to say mean things anymore.  Hooray!

SURPRISE!  People shout things and say rude things.  And it seems like it's because I have the audacity to take my vagina and breasts outdoors in public.  Unsupervised by a male and everything.  HOW DARE I!  I should be shamed into submission for merely being female and existing, let alone running amok on public hiking trails!  I should also figure out a way to leave my vagina and breasts at home...but that sounds scientific and is clearly a job for a man.

We all know that having a vagina makes you weak, fragile, and submissive.  Therefore, it's not only acceptable to street harass vagina-havers, but it's your DUTY AS AN AMERICAN to make sure they feel as weak, fragile, and submissive as you feel they should be.

For the record, here is a list of things it's acceptable to say to a stranger as she walks her dog:
1) Your dog is cute (this will make us instant BFFs, just FYI)
2) Gorgeous day, isn't it?
3) Your shoe is untied (if it actually is)
4) Do you have the time?
5) Your dog is cute (I know I already said it, but it's important)
6) Help! (if you are in distress, obvi)
END OF LIST.

**P.S. This also applies to males and those whose genders you are not sure of.  It's pretty cis-female centric because I'm writing from personal experience.  But how about let's just not harass each other, k?