I was climbing the stadium steps the other day to get in the cardio workout I try to endure a few times each week. The pushing 90 degree heat wearied both body and mind. It gave birth to a thought about how I used to be so fearless and reckless – hitch hiking in the seventh grade in a contest with friends to see who would be the first to reach the mall ten miles away. Cave exploring at age 14, crawling on my belly through pitch black darkness and spaces I can’t believe were as large as my body. Back packing through Europe with my fellow 55 and change bloggers where we slept on train station floors, the beach and even in an abandoned house. My friends still consider me adventuresome but I feel I need to mix it up bit more. Sure I still dance like nobody’s watching and give Elaine from Seinfeld a run for her money. But when I acknowledged that leaving the door unlocked on purpose was my most rebellious act on this particular dog day of summer, I vowed it’s time to bring out my inner rebel self. One of my sisters bought a motorcycle a year ago and I was tempted. But I have a serious history of accident proneness. I wear nine pins and a plate in my wrist thanks to a roller blading incident. Last spring I somehow managed to crack my sternum after tripping over the step in an exercise class. And last fall I got hit by a car while bicycling on our small town sidewalk! So, I have to be a bit practical in my rebel-ness. Just last Friday, hubby and I went to the music store to look at drum sets. I don’t have any musical background but drums scream fun, loud and a little bit rebellious. There was even a set in metallic red called Rebel. I’ll keep you posted.