Today, for snacks, I ate 3/4 of a container of edamame and 1/4 of a container of grape tomatoes. By myself. I came across the most amazing recipe for edamame from a friend on Pinterest, and I'll share it with you because if you are a fan of those delicious little green powerhouses of protein, I promise you will like this tasty snack. Try Crispy Edamame with fresh grated parmesan. I'm jonesing for more, just thinking about it. Nothing special about the grape tomatoes, except that they were at their peak of freshness, ripeness and deliciousness, and I devoured them dipped in a little low fat ranch. The good thing about only keeping healthy snacks in the house is that there are so many tasty options, when you think outside the box (the box of crackers, the box of cookies, YOU know what your vice is.)
I want to vent for a minute, if you'll allow me, about something that just irks the crap out of me. Two times in a row now, once on Sunday and once this evening, I nearly tripped over myself in Zumba class because somebody has decided that it is acceptable, for reasons beyond me, to bring their young son into class. In the beginning he sits against the far wall (which is bad enough, because the studio is PACKED), and whenever a really good song comes on, he gets up and finds his way to the floor and dances. Seriously. So whoever is nearby has to move over and make room for him, and then his mom attempts to shuffle him off the floor and back against the wall, which causes another stir. It is very disruptive and very rude, in my opinion. Furthermore, it costs me precious seconds of prime booty shakin' time in that hour long class that I wish would last all day. I LOVE that class. But I digress. The thing that bothers me the most is that right next to the studio is the Playcenter, where my child and everybody else's children hang out while we're in class. PUT YOUR FREAKING CHILD IN THE PLAYCENTER, OR LEAVE HIM AT HOME! Now, perhaps there are some extenuating circumstances and a valid reason for whyshe can't do one or the other, but seriously, lady, get with the program. The rest of us are there to dance, and sweat, and get a killer workout that requires a great deal of concentration because the moves aren't easy. We don't need another distraction from our cumbias and our merengues! Jumping off my soapbox now.
The last thing I want to leave you with today, and yes, I do realize this post is all over the place, is this: when I run, I wear my Garmin which tracks my distance, pace, time and speed, among other things. So I get home, plug the USB thingy in the computer and it magically syncs up with my watch and shows me beautiful graphs and maps and more detailed info than I could ever ask for, right there on the screen. When my husband goes for a run, he wears his Timex watch circa 1999 (just a guess) and then calculates his pace and speed IN A FORMULA HE DEVELOPED, using a computer program called "R". Seriously. You haven't heard of R? It's wildly popular in the Scrappy household. I think it's hysterical that I offer him my fancy schmancy watch but he refuses it, because he secretly loves figuring it out himself. Because he is a certified NERD. And I love him for it.