What Men’s Fitness Magazines Are Really Trying to Say

As promised you will find “Mon’s Health”, my fitness magazine cover interpretation, below.

If you missed the set up, go here:

What Women’s Fitness Magazines Are Really Trying to Say

If you hate clicking things, the basic idea is fitness magazines need my help in crafting  honest headlines, so I set myself up as translator for what they are really trying to say.

I’ve yet to receive a “Thank You” letter, but I’m sure it’s only a matter of time…

The truth about men's fitness magazines

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What Women’s Fitness Magazines Are Really Trying to Say

Fitness magazine covers are worse than used car salesmen. Worse than the weatherman. Maybe even worse than Miracle Whip.

I’m sure someone gives it their best shot, but when I read them, I’m lead to believe Fitness Einstein stopped by and figured everything out.

“This issue will change everything! Easy fat loss and huge muscles in 5 days?!”

Worthwhile research would’ve popped up weeks ago, with everyone looking like Channing Tatum 5 days later, but curiosity gets the best of me.

I open it, spend 5 minutes locating the damn article, and find the “ground-breaking method” smushed into the corner of a page…

Eat right, workout and do it forever

Nothing I couldn’t have found watching over my wife’s shoulder on Pintrest.

My world shatter-eth.

This happens always, no matter the headline, so I devised a theory to explain the cover-content disconnect.

Monaco’s Theory of Random Assembly

First, the people who create the magazine cover, and those who write the pages inside, work in different countries and have never seen or spoken to each other. Ever.

The cover department knows they need 10 attention-grabbing headlines.

The pages department knows they need 10 generic fitness and health articles.

They complete the tasks, and send their work to an evil magazine overlord who puts articles on the left side of his desk and headlines on the right.

Slowly, he assigns headlines to articles. Sometimes it’s a lucky month where a headline and article both have the same number in them. Every time that happens, he eats a Twinkie.

Eventually, he’s left with 4 headlines completely different from the remaining articles.

He sees the headline “How to Build Mega Muscles” and a recipe calling for “1 pound of mussels”. SCORE. He pops another Twinkie.

Its getting hard now, but before reading anything in depth– a most desperate measure– his evil kitty named “Dog” jumps onto the desk and matches up the rest for him.

He sends the magazine off for printing with the golden rule being to never reference page numbers on which cover articles can be found.

Leaning back in his chair, he strokes his kitty, murmuring “Good doggy” between mouthfuls of Twinkie.


If you nodded your head even once, it’s all the evidence I need.

To get the fitness world back on track, I’m creating a translation; a cover that interprets sensationalism and cuts through half-truths.

Results are below. “Wo-Mon’s Health” represents my first stab at a figuring out what women’s fitness magazines are really trying to tell you.

“Mon’s Health” is now available will be available later today, so clicky-clicky  stay tuned if this one doesn’t match your equipment.

The goal is for fitness magazines to emulate my lead, but after reading through the finished product…. they might take a hit in sales.

The truth about women's fitness magazines

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How to Ruin Your Family Road Trip

The real definition of road trip? An intentional lengthening of the worst part of vacation. It doesn’t make sense. Faster transportation is available. Groupie, limited-time, the-last-cruise-ship-sank-type deals make the savings insignificant. Yet, people embark on a road trip every day.

I will refer to these people as insane, but I mean it in the most reasonable sense. They are passive thrill seekers, betting on extra hours of 60 mph to bring adventure. Flying is guaranteed arrival, and planes travel 565 mph. By my calculations, driving is about…… slower.

And slower means increased chances of something going wrong. A thing that goes wrong is fun and spontaneous. And crazy.

I was crazy once. Or at least my family was crazy and road tripped to a national park, camp trailer in tow. On our way home, we stopped at a petrified forest. For fun.

As a kid, when you hear “forest”, the last thing you think of is rocks in the dirt. A few were interesting, but dad definitely talked the place up. On the way out, a glimmer of red caught my eye and I bent to pick up the only fantastic piece of petrified wood in the “forest”. Into my pocket it went.

bad luck petrified forest

Notices posted at the exit admonished people to un-steal any petrified wood; “Some say the wood is haunted and removing a piece brings the taker nothing but bad luck”. There were apologetic letters to prove it. Well, “some” also say park rangers are greedy rock-hoarders. The rock stayed in my pocket.

And not 5 miles from the park, our camper tire exploded.

That happens.

20 miles later, the car got a flat.


10 miles after that, the spare tire died.

We’re following a nail truck.

Our caravan limped to the nearest service station. Getting out of the car, my brother slammed his fingers in the door, was stung by a kamikaze bee, and the service station hose didn’t work… which wasn’t a big deal, until I stepped in our dog’s poo. Both shoes. And you can probably guess at this point that it was extra mushy.

In light of the fun we were having, my dad, bewildered, asked a question:

“Did anyone take the wood?”

And now, somewhere in a field next to a service station lies a stolen relocated piece of petrified forest.

Let my shoes, dangling from the trailer hitch like road trip war trophies, be a lesson to all you crazy people.

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You’ll Never Guess Where I’ve Been

What I need out of this post is a smooooooth entrance back into blogging, but I don’t think it’s possible.

If I had stopped for maybe a few weeks, potentially a month, I could slide back in here and most of my pretties (that’s you) wouldn’t have noticed.

But 6 months?

That’s like leaving dinner for a bathroom break and not coming back for a week.  You could explain an hour, maybe an overnighter with proper evidence, but a week is well outside the timeline of even a super dookie.

bathroom break for a week

So I won’t try to explain. I’ll just give you a quick update like you care, and we can pretend I’ve been faithfully blogging all winter.

Let’s get started.

– I am not killed. I never thought that my last post would be so ominous.

– My NaNoWriMo “experiment” turned into a full fledged book. 50,000 words ended up being more like half-way, but I think this Chris Baty guy may know what he is talking about.

– Not posting is a great way to not lose followers. It’s also a great way to not write sucky posts.

– Energy drinks are still an obsession. Sometimes I read articles highlighting how bad they are for me as I sip the sweet death-nectar; apparently “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE” isn’t very compelling.

– I am the proud owner of a Samsung Galaxy Note II. The irony is my intention was to  blog and write more with its gigantic screen and nifty pen…

Phone purchase date: 11/30/2012
Date of last blog post: 11/28/2012

Yeah that worked.

Anyways, I truly mean to blog more regularly. I’m not making any promises, but I aim for at least once a year. I had some weird momentum going with not posting.  I either had to submit a post on the 28th of the month, or wait until the next 28th day.

Well, it took 6 tries, but I’m glad to be back. Happy 28th of May.

Oh, and I am so over jelly doughnuts.

Enter, whole pies.

Whole foods raspberry peach pie

I am responsible for 50% of all Whole Foods pie consumption.

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Why Can’t 42,000 Words Be a Novel?

This is it my friends.

Friday, November 30th is the last day of NaNoWriMo. We have three days to get our collective arse in gear and finish this stupid idea.

If you don’t see a post from me after November, I am killed. But I will recover soon and provide a synopsis on why the Nano-word-leech lies and hurts families.

Not participating in Nano? Take some time and congratulate yourself.

The rest of you, barf words.

If you non-nano-ers aren’t too busy with your ample leisure time, visit the blogs below and heckle. A few are over achievers and have stayed on track, so be extra mean to them.

Julia Swancey
Ruth Rainwater
D.L. Aiden

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NaNoWrimo Log, Day 22: VRRRROOOOOOM!

These are all the words I can write. I must save the remainder to feed the NaNoWriMo beast.  I may… have time… for just…one… picture…

NanoWrimo is running me over

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Wow, I Don’t Hate NaNoWriMo Yet

Yeah, I’ve missed a few days, despite saying I would post every day.

However, I warned you.  My body and soul aim to take the path of least resistance to the satisfactory level of success. And that little NaNoWriMo widget you see to your right has been great justification to not write daily posts. “Even I’m getting annoying with my word count posts. Anyone who cares will just look at the widget…. Now, where were we, jelly donut?”

Okay, I haven’t eaten one, but I deserve one. 11 days in and I am actually a teeny tiny bit ahead…. 186 words if you like numbers. Which is no one. Which is 0.

Regardless, I am excited with how this is going. After accumulating almost 20,000 words, you begin to realize the power of momentum, and not letting your word excrement story down. I’m 37% the way there, which doesn’t sound  very encouraging, but looking at the time it has taken, I feel stupid for not having done this before.

It hasn’t all been rosy. In fact, Saturday was a no-word day. Not even phone words.

But embarking on this word vomiting journey as made me realized how many opportunities there are in a day to write, even just a little bit. It’s not romanticized like I always wanted it to be, holed up in some writing retreat, muses dancing and twirling, shoving ideas and donuts and candy into my mouth as I write.

Its much more like me in my underwear on the couch. Or in between sets at the gym. Or half asleep. Or waiting for my damn car to be fixed.

I am starting to treat writing like a job, like a skill to hone. I have to show up, I have to put in the work. And more than counting words, that’s what I wanted from NaNoWriMo. Even though I am only at 37%, I feel like I’ve won.

I do plan on finishing this race, as no one stops 10 miles into a marathon:

“Hey guys, I’m feeling pretty done over here. Perchance you could bring the finish line over here?”

Actually, I bet a lot of people do. I would. Running sucks.

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