If you’ve been keeping up with this series, you know two things:
why you should run (get better in bed!), and how to plan your run (get you a goal!).

THE THIRD (AND FINAL) THING I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT RUNNING IS, it’s so much better when you’re doing it to Kanye.
…

That’s what she said!

Make a kick-ass mix.
Best part of running? Looking better? Nope. Feeling Better? Nope. Making a fitness mix for your pretty little mp3 player? Oooh yeah.

The only rule of fitness mix is: there is no rule. Whether you’re into hip hop, death metal, disco, or all three, if it gets your blood pumping and your feet moving, it goes in the mix.

I have a couple mixes on my iPod. The 27-song master playlist is great to shuffle through when I’m feeling random; with the master mix I never know what will play next—could be Technotronic telling me to pump up the jam, Jay-Z saying I should brush the dirt off my shoulder, or Black Eyed Peas singing about my humps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.

Sometimes—when I want to run for minutes and not distance—I put a towel over the treadmill computer and turn on my 30-minute mix, which looks something like this:

Let’s Get It Started—Black Eyed Peas
The New Workout Plan–Kanye West
Glass Danse–The Faint
Stronger–Kanye West
Firestarter–Prodigy
Volcano Girls–Veruca Salt
Hips Don’t Lie–Shakira
Welcome To The Black Parade–My Chemical Romance (for the cool down)

Want to give it a listen? Click on my mixtape!

—–
Need some inspiration to create your playlist? Hänni recommends you:

• Rock out like an Olympian with the US Summer Olympics Athletes Playlist
• Check out this huge and awesome list of workout songs from peertainer.com
• Skim through the official workout playlists thread at bodybuilding.com
• Get stoked on the Art of Manliness 52 songs to help you get bigger, stronger, and faster
—-
Hey hannihaus readers, what are your favorite tunes to rock your run to? Leave them in comments.

And with that, our How To Run Your Ass Off (Literally!) series concludes. I hope you are inspired to dust off your sneaks or kick up your routine. With a little motivation, a plan, and a good mix, you’ll be harder, better, faster, stronger in no time.

May your next run be your best run,

xoxoh

My parents are too freaking laid back.

Had they been run-of-the-mill parents the response would’ve been, omg! what the hell happened? is he ok? are you ok?

Instead our conversation went like this:

Dad: So I heard you hit your boyfriend with your car.

Me: No Daddy, I hit someone else.*

Dad: You didn’t hit Andrew?

Me: No I hit a stranger.

Dad: Oh … so how’s work been?

—-

*For the record, no strangers were (profoundly) harmed in the bumping of my car into said stranger’s ass. Apparently the man with the brass balls–who decided to stand between incoming and outgoing traffic lanes–also has buns of steel.

In a previous post I told you why running rocks, gave you some good reasons to get that badonkadonk busy running laps.

THE SECOND THING I WANT TO TELL YOU ABOUT RUNNING IS, it’s best to be a boy scout; be prepared.

Set a goal.
A goal-whether to walk the neighborhood or train for a 10K-will give you something to work toward. Long-term goals are great, but it’s a focus on the short-term that will get you where you want to be. In October I plan to run my first 5K and I want to finish in less than 30 minutes. To achieve this long-term goal I have been working on a series of short-term challenges; every four weeks I re-evaluate my progress and decide whether, in the next four weeks, I need to bump up my speed on the treadmill, add in an extra day of running, or incorporate inclines or sprinting into my routine. It’s these small victories that keep me going.

I’m currently working on increasing my speed, so my goal for these four weeks is to run two miles non-stop at a high speed, two to three times / week.

Examples of short-term goals to get *you* started include:

• Walking around your neighborhood x # of minutes, x days / week
• Walking on an incline at the gym x # of minutes (or miles), x days / week
• Jogging for x # of minutes (or miles), x days / week

The caveat to all this planning is: it’s ok to improvise!
If you find your routine, even in the short-term, is getting stale, go ahead and free-ball it. Let’s face it: working out sucks. If you’re going to sweat your ass off it’d better be less than lame, right?

My favorite way to mix things up is to add intervals. Intervals are short-term, high-intensity exercises (for example sprints) I sandwich into my regular runs. By increasing my intensity in short bursts I fend off boredom, and guess what? I also get a better workout-running intervals burns fat faster than running at a steady pace. My boyfriend, a personal trainer who lost 100 pounds through diet and exercise, likes to jog five minutes and sprint two.

A twist on the intervals described above, my friend the marathoner uses run/walk intervals as a way to mentally break up mileage and recuperate sore muscles during long-distance runs. On marathon days she runs nine minutes, walks one the entire 26 miles. For more info on walk breaks, check this out.

Other ways to improvise during your run include:

• Incorporating an incline, either periodically or for the workout duration
• Sprinting your last few minutes to the finish

—-
OK so I’ve hooked you up with some solid info, but if you still don’t know where to start with goal setting, check out these time-tested programs:

Couch-To-5K Running Program | Punk Rock Running Program

Got other suggestions? Leave them in comments.

And check back at the haus for our next (and final) installment where I mux it up. Yes we’re going to talk about the workout mp3 mixtape. Wanna know what I run to? I’ll give you a listen next week.

My very good friend Aaron designed some awesome Obama tees. They are printed on American Apparel shirts and all profits go to Barack’s campaign.

Please buy a shirt and send the link to your friends:

http://www.barackobamatees.com/

That that don’t kill me can only make me stronger—Kanye West, Stronger

Want to drop weight fast? Marry a man who—after moving you to a strange city where you have no support system–leaves you for his mistress. Worked for me.

In discovering my husband’s humiliating infidelity, I also stumbled upon something else: the post-traumatic stress diet. Of course when I say “diet” this implies a conscientious change in eating. In actuality, mired in a grief so heavy it overrode my physical needs, eating was not an issue … I simply didn’t do it.

Within months I’d dropped more than 10% of my body weight, which frankly I didn’t have to lose. And so it was a relief when—as I started my emotional recovery—my physical self got better too.

The weight I put on was happy weight, but it was also flabby weight. My stomach made muffins over the tops of the designer denim I’d bought when I was smaller, sad. In my newfound wellness, I started biking, then added weights to the mix. Most recently I’ve been running.

I have a friend who runs marathons. She told me I should write this post—let people know I’m not who I was. Thanks to my post-divorce fitness routine my body is harder, better, faster, stronger. She recommended I share my tips for running. I think that’s a great idea. This is the first post in a series. Enjoy.

THE FIRST THING I WANT YOU TO KNOW ABOUT RUNNING IS, it rocks!

If you’re looking for a reason to run here’s a few:

• It’s free—yes dear hannihaus readers, running is recession proof. Unless you’re training for a marathon you don’t need any fancy gear; a pair of feet, a place to run, and some well-fitting sneaks will do you just fine.

• It makes you happy—my chemical romance is not just a kick-ass band of boys who wear makeup (squee!) it’s also a state of mind; when you run your body produces happy chemicals called endorphins that make you feel euphoric. A runner’s high is totally addictive and it’s not the kind of thing that will get you sent to rehab.

• It makes all your fantasies come true (or at least the revenge ones)—pissed at your boyfriend? Stomp on his head. Mad at your mother-in-law? Give her the shoe. When I’m feeling particularly stressed/angsty nothing gets me back to good like a nice cathartic tromp on the treadmill.

• It makes you sexy—in addition to losing inches on your legs, running also tightens up your glutes, quads, and calves. And as a bonus, because you’re using your core, your abs will get firmer too. Oh and your lungs and heart will also be strengthened, but of course when your sassy runner’s milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, your lungs will be the least of their interest.

Oh and running also helps you to sleep better, think better, and sex better. How’s that for incentive?

—-
Got more ideas for why running rocks? Leave them in comments. And stay tuned for the next installment where I recommend free-balling your running routine while keeping your gym shorts firmly affixed.

In another life I was married. And in that life, late one night, I received a phone call. “Hello,” said the woman’s voice, “I’m calling to tell you your husband is my boyfriend. All those times he said he was working out of town, he was with me. I was with him on Halloween and then on New Years. Thanksgiving he spent with my family. We were together on your birthday. And I was with him last night when you called. I just thought you should know.”

—-

Grief.

I plunged my head underwater. The tears kept falling even though I was facedown in the tepid tub. My only wish was not for strength or solace-for things that would make me well-but that the water streaming down my face would fill my lungs instead.

—-

Hope.

“I went a whole day without crying,” I told Susan, my therapist. “This marks a shift. I’ve been noticing a lot lately that I’m not who I used to be. I don’t blog any more-I don’t even think to do it. I spend more time praying than I ever have. I don’t have any favorite TV shows and I never watch movies. I have replaced my sneakers with spike heels and sweatshirts with designer denim. My circle of friends has gotten very small. Six months ago I was hysterically talking to anyone I could. Most days now I only talk to Mom and I am disappointed when I call and she’s not there.”

Susan, ever the professional, merely nodded a response. Her eyes betrayed her clinical demeanor though–I saw a flash of happy in them.

—-

Healing.

About a year ago I started to come out of my depression. I had accepted my circumstances-that my marriage was over and I was truly alone for the first time in my adult life-and I embraced it. In a journal entry I wrote that I was beginning to think that I’d reached the light at the end of the tunnel. For so long I’d prayed that God would let me feel good again, that I’d get out of the black and back into happiness. I cried, I wrote, because I’d finally gotten there.

In another life I was married. And in that life, late one night, I received a phone call. And for that call-for the awful catalyst that transformed me from a dull, complacent pupa resigned to the false security of a wedding band and suburban dwelling, into a beautiful butterfly queen, determined to walk by my own light, living and loving deliberately-I am eternally grateful.

To borrow from John Mayer, I’m in repair. I’m not together but I’m getting there.

As summer begins its slow acquiesce to fall, I’ve found it necessary to do some renovating behind the scenes at the haus.

Most notably, the curtains now match the carpet.

Isn’t brown beautiful?

I was talking to a friend who expressed frustration that her more thoughtful posts were less commented than those that were quickly concocted—folks got all crazy-like commenting on toaster sandwiches but were kind of meh about her pistachio pops

Me I thought the pops rocked. Mostly because—as a keen observer of the human anatomy—I couldn’t help but notice they resembled something we like very much at the haus.

Those rigid pops—positioned erectly in all their cold, hard, and shiny glory—looked just like ….

Well you know what’s coming dear hannihaus readers.

Yes, I was going to say they looked just like Nicole Kidman’s botoxed forehead.
…

Oh and also penis.

The pops looked an awful lot like penis, which is not weird considering that where you find nuts, you often find knob.

But I digress.

Times are hard. The economy is tanking, the price of gasoline is surging, and I have a seriously bad case of assbrows. And why do my brows look like like such ass? Well, because the economy is tanking and the price of gasoline is surging. Whilst I used to get a luxurious bi-weekly brow wax, the cost adds up, so now I just wax nostalgic instead. That shit is free yo.

Speaking of free, a few months ago the government sent me a letter saying I’d be getting an economic stimulus package at no cost—just for being an American. At first I was super stoked. I mean, what girl doesn’t love a nice package? But then when I learned the package was just money (not mangina) I was like, awww ok.

It turns out the government wanted me to spend this free money frivolously. The idea is, if I, and every other American, spent that 600 bones on something fun—like 600 bones in Vegas (where there is abundance of mangina and it’s legal)— I would feel good (albeit sore as hell) and business would be bolstered.

And it’s a cool idea. My parents own a small business and they are struggling. Operating a power sports set up (read: ATVs, snowmobiles, go carts, etc.), the ‘rents rely on “fun money” entertainment expenditures to keep afloat. Maaa and Popi don’t make their bread and butter on folks who limit their spending to necessities like, uh, bread and butter.

Despite my desire to stimulate the economy in a fun and frolicsome way, my desire to pay my rent is even greater. And so it happened that what I did with my economic stimulus package was NOTHING. I put that junk in the bank kids.

And it’s a good thing I have *something* in savings. The cost of groceries is out.of.control. The other day I decided—in an effort to save money eating out (har)—I would make a dessert at home. I chose Rhubarb Fool (recipe to follow) because we like fools around here; heck I even married one—a fool, not a rhubarb, though it would’ve been preferable to marry the veggie but whatevs. So anyway, I go to the store and pick out three measly sticks of rhubarb (the same stuff that grows wild and FREE at Maaas house). I get to the register and snicker at the cashier’s name tag which reads: Rainbeaux. Then Rainbeaux tells me the total and I no longer laugh. That shit costs $5.99! This is too effing expensive for something that looks like pink celery, which if it existed would probably cost what green celery does which is $1.99 for organic. But anyway, I didn’t want to look like a cheap ass, so I sucked it up, walked towards the end of Rainbeaux’s conveyor, opened wide my wallet and handed her my gold…. And then I died a little inside.

Long story short, I am spending my economic stimulus cash on the essentials: FOOD and GAS. Granted, if you eat in my kitchen the former will inevitably produce the latter, but that’s a whole other post.

Rhubarb Fool (serves 2)

1 C fresh (or frozen thawed) rhubarb stalks
¼ C agave nectar or sugar of your preference
2 Tbs orange juice
1 C plain Greek yogurt

Preheat oven to 350 F. Combine rhubarb, agave and orange juice glass pan. Bake for 20 minutes or so, until rhubarb is completely soft. Refrigerate until chilled, about 15 minutes.

Into two glasses or goblets, spoon alternate layers of rhubarb mixture and yogurt. Eat immediately or cover and refrigerate up to 6 hours.

Hope you enjoyed that sexy title.

After all, it’s hump day.

*bow chicka wow wow*

So Erin Cooks—that saucy bakerella—wants you to get some. And she knows just how to give it to you.

To get some sweet sweet love, enter to win Erin’s copy of the Warren Brown CakeLove cookbook. The recipes are smokin hot. Look at this Mojito Pound Cake EC made Monday. Tell me that’s not total food porn.

To win the torrid tome, just go to Erin’s blog and make a comment.  Do it here.

At the contest’s close a random number generator will pick the winner. And then it will pick the winner’s nose … and then it will pick the winner’s shoes … and socks … and wedgie … and whatever.

Well it might just pick the winner, but still that’s pretty cool.

So yeah, go visit Erin Cooks. Leave her a comment.

I will love you long time.