“Springing forward” has a deceptively cute name. What it should really be called is “Enjoy your dark-ass mornings from now on, sucka…”
Stumbling blindly down the hallway Monday morning in seemingly midnight conditions, I was forced to flip on the harsh overhead lights, which beamed like a spotlight on my white-ass legs.
Me: “Holy crap that’s bright. I can’t see. Oof. Was that the cat? …OH FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!! I’m hideous! GAAAAAAAA!”
My winter-pale legs shone back at me, random shadows produced by the harsh lighting doing me no favors. AACK!! The lumps! The bumps! The flab! That weird pudgy part at the top where your legs connect to your butt (I like to call this the “transitional area“)! OH THE HORROR!!
I work out. I previously felt myself to be in decent shape (“felt myself?” Probably could have phrased that differently). But were I to parade these white blubbery stems into any springtime beach scenario, the crowds would part, the men would flee, the babies would cry. Some poor sucker would toss me a towel. I can’t go through that. Something must be done.
What’s more alluring than a product with “Magic” as part of the name?! Chugging a Rockstar (vital for mom survival), I desperately scoured the web with panicked fury in search of the elusive “Leg Magic.” $200 and a 2-week delivery? P-HA! Silly Internet peeps are obviously not aware of my ADD-influenced immediate gratification needs. A helpful tip: You can pick this thing up at your local Target for half the price and take it home stat.
Tar-Jay is a magical place; I’m a long-time fan. They have all that fun crap near the entrance that you don’t really need but it only costs $1! One visit to the popcorn stand and you have a decent shot that your kids will sit in the cart for at least a good five minutes, leaving a handy trail of salt and those brown unpopped seed deals in case you’re asked to leave the store when they pitch a toddler-style fit in the toy aisle when you won’t buy them a 50-gallon jug of bubbles. And decent bikinis on show if you don’t have winter flab legs.
I nearly giggled (I may have actually giggled; I can’t recall… I blame the Rockstar) hoisting the box awkwardly into my cart. Buying stuff is fun. Especially when you think your purchase is going to miraculously solve a nagging problem. The box is heavy, maybe 25 pounds, and long and inconvenient when you already have two kids in your cart. Even if you place the box gingerly over one child, it’s usually frowned upon. There’s a handy handle on the box made of that kind of plastic that slices the shit out of your palm. But I wasn’t about to ask a sales dude to help me: “Hi. I’m 30-something, post-preggo with twins, and this morning I realized my legs are disgusting. Could you help me carry this? And also get me some tampons, a Red Bull and some of that fancy anti-cellulite cream?” I’ll pass.
Back at home, it was as if the box glowed with hope. May have been the fact that the sun freakin’ finally came out. You hafta put it together, but I was determined to be unusually un-lazy and suck it up as I was pretty sure that if I waited for my husband to come home he would make me return it. P-HA! Husbands. Harder to crush my dreams of hot-ass quads when I’ve already sweated over the assembly, eaten the receipt and the box is in a dumpster. HEE HEE! Chicks are sneaky.
So, when you’ve successfully claimed your handyman (handychick) title, and are about to hop on, here’s what you’ll see (at right). The handles are fun-squishy. Love that.
The Leg Magic crew has provided a handy little knob thing that you can turn to adjust the height. “Oh, how lovely!” you may be saying. However the only two height choices for the handlebars are 2′ or 3′ off the pedals. Seems like odd choices. But that’s just me. What the heck?!? My thumb looks huge in that picture. The BlackBerry camera is like a funhouse mirror.
Other things I recommend:
1. Extra AAA batteries (my Leg Magic said they would be inside, but they weren’t)
2. Shoes (you can try it with socks, but you might fall on your ass. Shoes also provide necessary traction. The whole deal with the pedals will be slipperier than you think).
3. Headphones with some good tunes (mental note to add a “good workout tunes” blog post)
4. Orbit gum (no other reason than I like it. Try the Sweet Mint or Cinnamint flavors. Sweet gold for those of us with an oral fixation.)
A GOOD IDEA: Position this thing near your kitchen or bathroom counter. That way, you can put a book or magazine on the counter to read while using the thing.
Hoppin’ on like a badass, my legs shot out to the edges like I leaped onto ice and I was momentarily frightened that my undercarriage was about to be yanked into some kind of splits-like pose. As I’m not 16 anymore, this was worrisome. I’ve been pregnant, peeps. Sudden surprises like this can make a gal pee herself. I began excitedly pushing the button on the controller monitor thingy, only to discover that it seems to be unfortunately stuck on “stop”. Feeling like a jackass, I resorted to the MANUAL (guys, listen up!) but to no avail. The thing promises to measure your total reps, calories burned, and the time. That would have been useful. Guess I’ll just use my watch–oh yeah, goin’ old school!
Suggested use for this device is to slide your feet out and in (like in the commercial with the totally fit chick who makes me feel like 10 pounds of shit in a 5 pound bag) in “60 second bursts.” HA! Little do they know that I can conquer the elliptical for an hour! I am all-powerful! I’ll do 30 min and love it.
OH HELL NO.They are NOT KIDDING about the 60 seconds. At first, it is “la-dee-da” easy. Then I got my ass handed to me. Hit that 45 second mark and you start making faces like a kid trying to poop.After a minute of slidey fun, I hoisted myself off the thing and circled it, panting, like some kind of animal sizing up its prey. I may have actually talked shit to it. But we’ll keep that between ourselves.
A surprise: This thing burns the hell out of your inner thighs. It’s easy to slide your feet to the outside. Hard part is pulling them back in. I didn’t really feel it in my outer thighs or butt as promised. But my inner thighs were on fire (sounds dirty).
- The best thing to do with the Leg Magic is to leave it somewhere you are often. I left it in the kitchen for the rest of the day, and accumulated maybe 10 min total (a back-pattingly good job according to the manual, especially for a rookie) of 60-second “bursts”. Probably also stopped me from shoveling a poptart parade in the old piehole.
- Hey, folks, it doesn’t work on carpet! I planted this thing in front of the TV (hello, obvious choice), jumped on, started to slide out the footpads and–BOOF!–right into the carpet. Sucks.
- If you put the leg magic in an upstairs bathroom with linoleum flooring, it will be SO LOUD you’ll probably get calls from next door asking you to please quit it with the electric saw. Best place is downstairs, on tile or wood flooring.
The next day: Inner thigh soreness continues, a sign it could be working. I’m determined to keep it up, so an update will follow in a few wks.
- Seems to work the inner thighs pretty well. And I’ll keep you posted.
- The 60-sec “burst” thing (there’s something I don’t like about the word “burst”) is tolerable.
- Claims to burn about 10 cal/min, which is approx the same as jumping rope (don’t get me started on the evil jump rope). **Here’s a handy chart of calories burned during similar activities. Love that they have a column called “Sex: Active” on there. As opposed to when you just lie there flipping channels.
- Better price deals locally, so don’t order it online unless you live in BFE. The official site does have a $15 free trial w/a money-back guarantee for 30 days, but then you hafta plunk down 3 more $150 payments later on. And you know your ass will be too lazy to send it back. Oh wait, maybe that’s just me.
- And look how little and cute it is when you fold it up for storage! Awww…
- Customer service sucks. I sent a cheery email regarding my probs with the controller thing and never received a response. Bastards!
- It’s about $100, which is a sizable investment.
- I kind of feel like a tool using it in front of my husband, who just shakes his head. And could be dangerous for little kiddos.
RockstarMama Rating: B-. (Not too bad considering the way I ripped the SMOOTH AWAY a new one!But it’s only gonna work unless you do it reguarly, peeps. I’m going to try it for the rest of the month and I’ll post an update then.)
A final bonus for my loyal readers: Here’s a pic I took leaning over the handlebar thingies upside-down with my BlackBerry. This is not recommended. About a second after I snapped the pic, I pitched forward and fell in a thundering mom pile right on my face like a huge uncoordinated a-hole. I did that for you, baby! But don’t try that at home.
Who else has tried it? What did you think? And I’m up for any other product reviews–send me your suggestions!