Chocolate milk works extremely well as a post-workout drink, says study
Sports teams have yet to pour a celebratory cooler of chocolate milk over their coach after winning the big game.
Do you even lift, bro (or brodette, and/or whatever the gender-nonspecific equivalent is for bro)? If you do: don't drink a sports drink after your workout. Instead, reach for a cool glass of chocolate milk. In a recently published study co-authored by researchers from Iran and Canada, it turns out that chocolate milk actually provides better recovery time than sports drinks.
Sure, it might seem counterintuitive. Chocolate milk is hardly known for its appearance at athletic events, and sports teams have yet to pour a celebratory cooler of chocolate milk over their coach after winning the big game. Sports drinks of the "-ade" variety have long-running commercial campaigns where ripped athletes glug wide-eyed from a bottle of brightly colored liquid. Chocolate milk, on the other hand, has delightful happy cows.
From the study:
Subgroup analysis revealed that time to exhaustion significantly increases after consumption of CM compared to placebo [mean difference (MD) = 0.78 min, 95% confidence interval (CI): 0.27, 1.29, P = 0.003] and carbohydrate, protein, and fat-containing beverages (MD = 6.13 min, 95% CI: 0.11, 12.15, P = 0.046).
Essentially, you're looking at six more minutes of playing time due to milk's already incredible muscle recovery qualities. Flavored milk has a better carbohydrate to protein balance, so it works better than regular milk.
It's also worth noting that chocolate milk is far more nutritionally rounded than sports drinks: chocolate milk contains healthy fats, enzymes, and naturally occurring electrolytes. With an unopened fridge life of 7-14 days, good ol' chocolate milk absolutely falls under the general healthy food advice that "if it can go bad, it's good for you"—while sports drinks can survive on a shelf for nine months.
While the study might be news to some, it's been a long time coming for the lactose-inclined. Kevin Love of the Cleveland Cavaliers made a commercial in 2015 praising chocolate milk and was laughed at for it by sports media. Perhaps they could reconsider, because more and more chocolate-milk-meets-sports studies keep coming out. Kevin, if you're reading this, feel free to come by Big Think's office and talk to us about why chocolate milk is a game changer.
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Quoth the parrot — "Nevermore."
By his mid-30s, Edgar Allan Poe was not only weary by the hardships of poverty, but also regularly intoxicated — by more than just macabre visions. Despite this, the Gothic writer lucidly insisted that there was still a method to his madness when it came to devising poems.
In an essay titled "The Philosophy of Composition," published in 1846 in Graham's Magazine, Poe divulged how his creative process worked, particularly in regard to his most famous poem: "No one point in [The Raven's] composition is rerferrible either to accident or intuition… the work proceeded step by step, to its completion with the precision and rigid consequence of a mathematical problem."
That said, contrary to the popular idea that Edgar Allan Poe penned his poems in single bursts of inspiration, The Raven did not pour out from his quivering quill in one fell swoop. Rather it came about through a calculative process — one that included making some pretty notable changes, even to its avian subject.
As an example of how his mind worked, Poe describes in his essay that originally the bird that flew across the dreary scene immortalized in the poem was actually… a parrot.
Poe had pondered ways he could have his one word refrain, "nevermore," continuously repeated throughout the poem. With that aim, he instantly thought of a parrot because it was a creature capable of uttering words. However, as quickly as Poe had found his feathered literary device, he became concerned with the bird's form on top of its important function.
And as it turns out, the parrot, a pretty resplendent bird, did not perch so well in Poe's mind because it didn't fit the mood he was going for—melancholy, "the most legitimate of all the poetical tones." In solving this dilemma in terms of imagery, he made adjustments to its plumage, altogether transforming the parrot — bestowing it with a black raiment.
"Very naturally, a parrot, in the first instance, suggested itself, but was superseded forthwith by a Raven, as equally capable of speech, and infinitely more in keeping with the intended tone," Poe explained in his piece in Graham's. "I had now gone so far as the conception of a Raven — the bird of ill omen — monotonously repeating the one word, 'Nevermore,' at the conclusion of each stanza, in a poem of melancholy tone…"
It was with these aesthetic calculations that Poe ousted the colorful bird that first flew into his mind, and welcomed the darker one that fluttered in:
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore…
The details of the poem — including the bird's appearance — needed to all blend together, like a recipe, to bring out the somber concept he was trying to convey: the descent into madness of a bereaved lover, a man lamenting the loss of a beautiful woman named Lenore. With that in mind, quoth the parrot — "nevermore" just doesn't have the same grave effect.
* * *
If you'd like to read more about Edgar Allan Poe, click here to review how his contemporaries tried to defame him in an attempt to thwart his success.
Evolution doesn't clean up after itself very well.
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- Basically, this is the stuff that served some evolutionary purpose at some point, but now is kind of, well, extra.
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- Facebook and Google began as companies with supposedly noble purposes.
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