In Time
February 24th, 2010 § 14 Comments
I have been thinking a lot about time. Does anybody else do that? I literally spend so much time thinking about it. About the idea of it. About the reality of it. Time amazes me. It is the one constant in our lives. It moves at the same pace, every day. This may seem trite and simple, but think about it. Life is, for the most part, unpredictable. We don’t know what each day holds. Sure, we have things planned out – get up at 6:30. Cook breakfast. Shower. Drink coffee. Commute. Work until 6. You get the picture. But truly, the timing of life is unpredictable. We miss the alarm. Burn the eggs. Spill coffee. Get in accidents. Get fired. Lose loved ones. Get sick. In short, our worlds can feel completely turned around. Or, everything can go according to plan and our lives can feel completely ordinary. Either way – the only aspect we can truly count on to act as a stability post is time.
In the morning light that is post-breakup, I have really delved into thinking about time. The time I was in that relationship, in terms of calendar time, was very short. The time I was in that relationship in terms of investment time – not to mention the intensity levels – it was very lengthy. It was as if I was in this whirlwind that very abruptly stopped. And as the last leaves settled to the ground, there I was, spinning around with this perplexed look on my face as if to say, “What now?” I had trusted a gut instinct that led me to feel a certain way. It’s that same gut instinct that has forewarned me of tragedy and served as the last-minute decision not to do many things that would have been the wrong choice. This time it did just the opposite – it led me into the arms of someone who was the wrong choice.
When it was all said and done, I wondered about the time it’d take to heal. Within a few hours, I felt much better. In less than a few days, I felt surprisingly back to normal. It was as if the relationship had never existed. Here I am almost a month out and I don’t quite know how I feel. While I am certainly not wishing for things to have happened in any other way than they did, I am questioning what has happened in the time since.
My thoughts have been centered around time and how much of it and what kind it takes to heal. I’ve realized that while I am taking the situation and recognizing its blessings and certainly not blaming myself for anything, I was burned. Not a third- or even second-degree burn that scars and requires intensive care. But still, a burn. To me, it’s reminiscent of the one I gave myself pulling dip out of the oven on Cinco de Mayo. Although it sounds impossible, the injury happened on the top of my forearm, about four inches below my wrist. I can remember actually burning it, looking at it and realizing “Oh shit. I am burning myself.” I can remember going to work and having a throbbing red and purple welt. Icing it. Putting Neosporin on it. Not once in the healing did I cover it up. It needed air. And sure enough as burns do, it began to heal. In time, it reduced to just a scar. One that I look down at every day. To my skin, it now becomes a constant. It will be there every day, no matter if I wear long sleeves, get muddy, break my or someone breaks my heart.
I think the same can be said for the lesson I have managed to salvage from the relationship. It is visible – if only to me – and it, too, is a constant. It has become a part of my makeup and my history – a part of me. As the clock ticks and the calendar page is turned, as the choruses of “Auld Lang Syne” are sung and the “Happy Birthday!” candles are blown out, within me it shall remain. For right now though, I am giving it some air, knowing that if it’s going to stick around and be a constant in my life, I might as well let it heal the right way.
A Little Behind
February 19th, 2010 § 15 Comments
You know how right before someone goes on stage to perform, it’s protocol – and good luck – to tell them to “Break A Leg”?
Maybe someone should have told me to kick some ass right before I went to yoga Wednesday. There I was, making the most of my day off, getting some cross-training in as part of my half-marathon plan. I was flowing through all the animals – downward facing dogs, pigeon, crow – and feeling pretty darn cleansed (literally seeing that I practice in 95 degree heat). I gathered up my mat and Namaste-d it out of there on my way to the next thing I had planned.
Now remember all that nasty weather we’ve been having – oh all over the East Coast? Well it makes for some slippery surfaces. I wish I had a much more ordinary story to tell, like that I fell outside on a sidewalk or something that would, you know, make sense given the current conditions. However, if you haven’t figured it out yet – Twenty-Fifth Year is no normal girl.
As I made my way down the indoor set of steps leading from studio to sidewalk, some patch of water (because it’s inside here, people) and my shoe decided they didn’t want to have the .01 seconds of contact normally allotted. Oh no. They just needed a little bit longer (the “Just One More” syndrome proven!) Then the steps decided they also wanted to spend some QT with my ass. And when I say “steps” I don’t just mean one or two. I mean eight. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud.
I, of course, was showered with a chorus of “Are You OK?” and “Are You Sure?” Which made me want to immediately high tail it out of there with what I thought was a broken tail bone.
Did I go to the ER? Did I get an X-ray? No. I went to the movies. I bought myself a box of Buncha Crunch and did what I had sought out to do on my dang day off.
The pain worsened. I still remained stubborn. I made friends with my heating pad and groaned like a granny. I started Googling walker models (after much debate I decided I wanted one that you can flip around and sit on the little built-in seat. Probably red.)
Today I went and got it checked out. The good news is I am fine and I can run, I just have to go easy on it for a bit. The bad news is that I had to pay $55 and wear my pants around my ankles (with shoes still on) to receive the verdict that my ass is, in fact, not broken.
Booyah!
The Salad Dressing Theory
February 17th, 2010 § 13 Comments
Well here we are, half-way through the week and homegirl has yet to make an official appearance on The Twenty-Fifth Year. Imagine me taking a huge *sigh* right now. I know, and I tend to beat myself up over the close/long-distance relationship I have with my blog. You see, I have worked quite a stretch without a day off due to weather and the like. Today is the first time I am not driving to work in 10 days. I am by no means complaining, I count my blessings every day I have a job I enjoy and that affords my lifestyle. However, as you can imagine, I am slightly exhausted.
I have a lot planned for today – the first of two days off in a row- including hot yoga at my favorite fab studio. I am using today as my “cross-train” day on my half marathon training plan that I have so graciously stolen from the lovely Morgan (who will be running the Pittsburgh half, too!)
I impressed myself with a 4.0 mile run on the treadmill last night after deciding two miles into it that I was going to quit. I kept looking at the clock and thinking, “No. You’re already here, you might as well do another mile.” Before I knew it, I was clocking in at four! I haven’t ran that far since November so I am very happy I am right on track with my training schedule. I feel like a real runner now! By the way, when I am feeling discouraged I totally channel other bloggers/blends and think, “What would they say if they were on the treadmill beside me and I wanted to stop?” It’s one of the many motivational tools (read: head games) I play with myself on my runs. What do you do to psych yourself out of quitting early?
In other news, I wanted to share with you a wonderful concept my pastor shared with us this Sunday in church. I am not here to preach on anyone, so take this however you’d like.
Oftentimes when we experience a hardship or a “shake up” in our lives, we are confused and frustrated as to why God/the universe/etc. is doing so. Whether it’s a struggle financially, in a relationship, in our family or at work – we want to move as quickly as possible from the struggle to the sunshine. We can feel like we are being punished or cursed for having to endure an unpleasantry.
My pastor explained these times in life by drawing a comparison to salad dressing. When you go to pull an oil-based salad dressing off the shelf to use, you can see the separation – the “good stuff” is on the bottom. Chances are you don’t simply tip the bottle over and pour it out, you shake it up. With the shaking comes the mixture and you get the good stuff.
Think of that bottle as your character. Sometimes the good stuff settles to the bottom. God/the universe/karma/whatever you believe in simply doesn’t pick you up and flip you over. He/it takes you in its hand and shakes you up because there is something inside you – the good stuff – that needs a little movement to come back to the surface.
Think about that for a minute. I can guarantee that there is some facet of your life that is not exactly peaches and cream right now. You’re probably (heck, always) working through something that poses a challenge. You’re being shaken up. Take the negativity and frustration you associate with this and know that you are lucky! Yes, lucky. Something out there – whatever you believe in – sees the good in you and they only want you to shake you up and share you with the world’s salad!
The best thing about these shake-ups? It’s often where the next blessing lies. Having trouble making ends meet? Your blessing lies in a financial gain. Feeling blue post-holidays because you celebrated them solo? Your blessing lies in a companion on the horizon? Frustrated with your work load, your current position or your boss? Change is gonna come.
I love this theory and, of course, can apply it to so many situations I am facing right now. These words from my pastor – as they do every week – inspire me. I hope they inspire you, too. Kind of a fresh way to look at the not so pleasant times and parts of life, no?
About That..
February 12th, 2010 § 13 Comments
So I was going to go into this long, heartfelt rant about love and the upcoming holiday and look at it from both a loving and cynical standpoint and from being in a relationship and being single and how it’s not all black and white (red and white?) Then I decided to hit snooze for approximately 45 minutes this morning and once again, wit and intelligence take a back seat here at The Twenty-Fifth Year. So all I am going to say is this, no matter what your relationship status may be, or how you feel about the day itself (I have read blogs where it ranges from “DIE HALLMARK HOLIDAY, DIE!” to “Love, love, LOVE!!! I LOVE LOVE!” it is what you make it.
I suppose I fall somewhere between these two. Given recent events in my life, I could be really bitter about it. But I am choosing to treat it for nothing more than it’s worth. We’ll still have family dinner at my house, I will still go to church, I will still be single. It’s a day, just like love is a word, and that’s how I am choosing to look at it.
I will, however, make one exception to my blase attitude with my best attempt at recreating my girl T. Swift.
MUCH LOVE to all my readers, friends, family and BLENDS alike!!
Fluff
February 11th, 2010 § 13 Comments
Well it certainly has been interesting around here with this whole snow thing. I am sure y’all are as sick of seeing it – if not in person then on the Internet, blogs, etc – as I am. It has really screwed with daily life this past week. Here in the ‘Burgh we’ve been topped off with several more inches in the last few days. Being that I work about a half an hour north of the city and where I live, my drives to work equate to a progression of more serious conditions with every mile I clock. As I like to keep work and blog lives separate, I am not going to go into any detail as to what I do, etc. but just know that I have a somewhat authoritative position that leads me to have to fill in when others can’t.
Yes, this is real. He lives on my block and is like, 12 feet tall. Cute and all, but really, CAN WE BE DONE WITH THE SNOW, BUDDY? Just melt. Please. I keep having dreams I see grass when I look out the window.
For that reason, I am playing the waiting game right now as to when I must make the trek to my place of employment. What does this mean for you dear readers? It means this shall be a post of utter fluff and nothing too thought-provoking! I have received a few of the blogger awards/tags in recent weeks (who am I kidding, months) and today I am going to roll them all into one and do another addition of Seven Things You Did Not Know About Me brought to you by Abby’s nomination. Thank you beautiful blend Abby!!! I figured I might as well post this, I mean, who doesn’t like a little fluff on their Thursday afternoon?
1.) I am a decedent of one of the Pilgrims. You know, that group of radical Europeans who got on three boats and flipped the bird to the King as they sailed off in search of a new life? One dude, William Bradford, was elected to lead them all after the first governor died. He held the title for most of the rest of his life. If you trace my maternal family tree for about the next seven-ish generations, your finger will be brought to an abrupt stop at none other than Ms. 25th.
Hmm…I think I see a striking resemblance. Do you think we look alike?
2.) I like to sing. I don’t just mean my ghetto jam on the drive to work or when I hit the club with my best gals. I mean everywhere. As in homegirl will sing in conversation. Not songs- the actual conversation. A lot of times I do it to reiterate a point. Sometimes I just bust out – like when driving, “Burger KIIIIIING!!! WHOPPA!!” It’s kind of like when Oprah does it on her show, but instead of going down an octave or two, I will go up. This happened a lot during Cabin Fever about the snow and conditions outside, “Whiite out! Buffalo chicken dip!” Yeah, shit makes no sense. But it’s entertaining in person, I promise. It’s a very sub-conscious thing. Sometimes I just do it and then when someone laughs I realize that I was, in fact, just singing out my thoughts.
3.) One of the surefire ways to my heart is through purchasing me anything that is affiliated with mint. Mint lotions, mint bodywash, shampoo and conditioner, mint creamer, mint ice cream (not mint chocolate chip though). When Edy’s had the Peppermint ice cream, I thought I had died and gone to mint heaven. If you’ve been reading for awhile you know that I am more than obsessed with Starbucks Perppermint Mocha – which is available year around if you just ask! I also was thrilled when Coffee Mate announced its creamer boasting the same flavor would be available year round. It was like the mint angels opened up the heavens and sang, “Ahhhhhhh!” (with fresh breath, no doubt.) Anyone have any good recommendations out there? I have tried Origins mint products, Giovanni shampoo and conditioner, Williams & Sonoma lotion and Philosophy’s body wash. I am finding out (the hard, sad way) that mint products are few and far between outside of the holidays.
4.) I generally have no shame when it comes to acting like a fool in public. Now, I am not going to completely berate myself into looking like an ass (i.e. I will not bring other strangers into my debauchery, nor will I remove any article of clothing for a laugh.) I will however, talk loudly, dance anywhere – no alcohol necessary, playfully mock others, ask the “stupid seemingly obvious” questions no one else will and be that person that gives the group a little jolt – or feeds into the silliness. I love laughing and making others laugh.
5.) & 6.) I have an affinity for remembering weird, random and/or useless knowledge. If you tell me your birthday, even if we only meet once, I will probably remember it, or at least fall within the week in the month that it is in. Same goes for if you tell me about an article you read, a song we both like or a shirt you saw three months ago. I will be that person that calls and says, “You know that white button-up shirt with the french cuffs you were eying up at J. Crew in December? It’s on sale for 60 percent off and there’s one medium left. Shall I hold it hostage for you?” Or when I hear that favorite song of yours, I am no doubt sending you a text about it. Meanwhile you are on the other end, all “Huh?” in disbelief that I remembered. My best friend always tells me that I forget nothing. I beg to differ. At any one given time there is always one key thing in my life that is missing. It generally circulates between my Tiffany’s ring (a gift to myself which is something I recommend all women do at some point in their lives) my earrings, my zip drive, various important documents (i.e. registration and insurance paperwork when I put my car solely into my name) – you get the picture. Something is always misplaced in my life and if I could just remember where I stashed half my stuff, I wouldn’t always be stressed. By the way - right now it’s the zip drive.
7.) I love quotes. Really great quotes. Whether it’s a classic, a soundbite from a celebrity interview or something one of my friends said, there is power in great words. With that, I leave you with my favorite, which I now have on both a candle and a new coffee mug!
Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart.
**Update, I have jumped on the bandwagon – Go Ahead, Ask Me Anything and I will post about it next week! All this snow is making me crazy (aka bored).
Power Hour
February 9th, 2010 § 20 Comments
I have this little problem when it comes to my workouts. I like to call it “The Power Hour Syndrome.” I’m sure you all played this drinking game in college, or at least you’ve heard of it (who am I kidding, I played it Saturday night in the midst of Cabin Fever.) You make a (no doubt sweet as heck) mix of party songs, each only playing for one minute. When the song changes to the next, you take another drink. So it goes for the next 60 minutes – or however long you decide; we usually last about a half hour before we’re bored with it.
So you’re probably wondering two things. How does this pertain to a workout? And Sweet Baby Jaysus, does she do shots while she runs?
Let me assure you that while Captain Morgan has a soft spot in my heart, he has no place on the treadmill. What happens is, when I am on the treadmill or running outside (although it’s less of a problem then) I have an incredibly hard time keeping my attention to any one song for more than a minute. I’ll be running along, get bored, hit the “next” arrow then proceed to continue hitting it. Then I get angry because my mixes are set to shuffle and instead of going through all 50 some songs on my “Just Do It” playlist, it will sometimes repeat the same ones every five songs. This leads to more anger. So there I am, crazy curly-headed girl, bopping on the treadmill practically torturing my iPod with repeated taps to “FIND ME THE PERFECT SONG DAMNIT!”
I am extremely not embarrassed to admit that “Sexy Bitch” is the only song that I listened to in its entirety on my runs last night and this morning. Also “For The Love Of Money” (aka the theme song to “The Apprentice”) kept me going. It doesn’t get much more opposite than that, folks. The only thing those two songs have in common is their lead singers were both probably wearing some form of spandex and/or polyester in their videos.
Do you have this problem, too? How do you overcome it? I have tried not focusing on it really hard (I promise!) but when I am on the treadmill especially, music is key. Know what I’m sayin’? I need some suggestions. I just downloaded the Ke$ha CD and am getting used to the songs before I start pumping them out. (Thanks Jess!)Do you know any more?
Snow Day(s)
February 8th, 2010 § 11 Comments
Wow. Wow, wow! I am completely humbled by the outpouring of support, kindness and LOVE my last post generated. For every comment I thank you. For every person that took something from my story I am so grateful. For every new set of eyes to take the time to read my words I am touched. Remember how I said there were many lessons to be learned from this experience? Well, I think the best so far is that this community holds so much more goodness than I ever could have imagined. Despite another event on Friday that completely sealed the deal with the ex, I am feeling strong and empowered. And I know so much of that is because of all of you. Plus – I have made so many new blends! (In case you haven’t heard, a blogger friend = “a blend.” It’s the new thing.) If I had it my way, I would send you all a magazine and a cute pastry.
In case you’re wondering, this is how I spent my Sunday afternoon. Do you remember those Little Debbie’s from your childhood? I haven’t broken into one of those glorious $1.19 preservative-laden boxes since I was rockin’ braces. Somehow, it wasn’t as sweet as I remembered. However, that will not keep me from eating the rest of them. I work hard for my money, ya know? Can’t be wasteful!
I spent the last three days mainly around the homestead as we got pummeled with a massive snowstorm this weekend. And by massive I mean everyone was in unison shouting, “Get down to the grocery store NE-OW!!! Toilet paper, milk, bread, pastries!!” Everyone, that is, except for us who thought things were being blown way out of proportion. We had a party planned several weeks in advance – a Cabin Fever party no less – and we were sure that it was going to happen regardless of Mother Nature. I made the mistake of saying out loud Friday night, “I hope we get snowed in. Then we won’t have to work tomorrow!” It seems every time I mutter a “wish” of mine out loud, it comes true and I have to live with the consequences. (Lesson I should have learned when I said, “I need to go to the dentist” and was immediately inflicted with pain that took me out of work for a week and into the hospital with an abscessed tooth turned infection.) We woke up to more snow than my snow belt raised self can ever remember.
Welcome to my ‘hood circa Snowmageddon 2010.
He had a little too much to drink the night before methinks.
In true form, we continued on with the party. Thankfully I live a skip away from a grocery store that was actually open when the rest of the city was shut down. We stocked up and the four of us proceeded with celebration. Just what do you do at a cabin fever party when you really do have cabin fever you ask? Well you spend time dressing indoor trees – I mean, they need to keep warm, too.
You also waste spend a half an hour throwing cards in the air to get the perfect money shot. I’m not sure if y’all knew this, but I am a baller around these parts.
So hard.
I was supposed to see RENT yesterday with a friend of mine, but this darn snow once again held up plans as she was plowed in. Needless to say, this whole weather thing really put a damper on some pretty fun plans. Last night, we decided it was only right to break open a bottle of bubbly and toast away the week and weekend that were.
I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want just one more day off. Really I should know better – that greed is a product of the just one more syndrome. Just one more time to hit snooze. Just one more drink before I go. Just one more Little Debbie.
The Just one more syndrome is known to produce no good side effects and is very hazardous to your health. For that reason alone, I shall return to the working world. Because if I had it my way – and thank goodness I don’t – I would probably turn into a Little Debbie. Maybe that’s why I haven’t had these for a decade?
The Power of Words
February 4th, 2010 § 50 Comments
A short time ago, my life took a huge, sharp turn off the path I thought I had all but planned out pretty well for myself. Scary as it may sound, it was a welcome detour not for the scenery but rather for the company I had with me. I met someone who I thought was very wonderful and it was pretty clear he thought the same of me. Our journey together was no casual stroll in the park – it was more like an intense all-out run. One that is challenging in the moment – but rewarding in so many ways. Since the path was new, it opened up my eyes to many things. Among them, the possibility of life changing so much, the possibility of achieving the my dreams in a new exciting way and the probability of having someone to share it with.
Three days ago, I quickly found myself looking over my shoulder realizing I was running alone. When I turned back around I ran full force on to a sheet of ice and slid into a brick wall.
When I came to, I was back in the place I knew so well – the path I was walking down before my run.
When I came to, I was crying for the first time in as long as I could remember. I was holding my head in my hands trying to make sense of it all. Trying to explain it to myself, my friends, my family, my heart. I wanted a do-over. I wanted a hug. A drink. An explanation.
After I got over the initial shock of how I found myself single again – the irrational way in which someone else’s decision was given to me without a say – I began to dissect the conversation. I tried to connect the points made and make some sort of sense for myself why and how it had happened.
One reason he felt we were “on different levels” really bothered me.
“And the whole blogging thing. I don’t get it.”
Let me make a few things clear about that (as I am sure some of you are outraged that was a reason to end a relationship.) While I never rearranged our time together to blog, I am constantly connected to all things Internet through my phone (Twitter, Facebook, Emails, Blog). For as many times as I put it on the opposite side of the room to avoid the blinking red light of my Blackberry and the ping! that meant a new message, I was also sneaking in glances at times when I should have just let it be. I was constantly having to hear remarks about how “I wasn’t myself without my Mac,” which is not true at all. There’d be many nights we’d spend together that I didn’t even crack it open. And for those of you who aren’t regular readers, just look at the sporadic schedule of my posting recently. Granted, I have never posted every day, but my blog has not received the love I vowed to give it January 1st.
When I told those close to me – friends, blends and family alike – this was a reason for the breakup, they were shocked. Writing is the craft I am skilled and educated in. It is my passion and my hobby and something in which I hold a talent in. Right now, this blog is the only place I have to hone and practice that craft and skill. How could someone who seemed to get me not get me at all?
The words of encouragement from these people – and from some I didn’t even expect – floored me. It’s no surprise as I told you all a few posts ago that when I’m down, I’ve got those friends who are below me if only for a second to gain enough room to pick me up and bring me back to where I need to be. The calls, emails, texts, g-chat conversations, Skype dates and hugs have meant so much.
In less than 100 hours, I am doing better than I thought I would. I am coping at such a different level than I would have had this letdown happened a year ago.
I’m looking at this occurrence as a reminder to myself. A reminder that what I’ve stumbled upon – this blogging network of 20-something life, healthy living and food bloggers – is one of the most wonderful occurrences in my life. The network is not only one of shared interests, but one of support and love like I never could have imagined. This occurrence is a reminder that what is important to me is not to fill up my Google Reader with blogs and Tweet and comment to my heart’s desire, but to give back the support, encouragement, laughter and friendship that so many of you have given to me. And to write. My goodness, isn’t it about the writing?
Blogging has given me confidence. It’s taught me to be open and candid and as honest with myself as I am with others. It’s pushed my thought process outside its comfort zone and challenged my ideas and knowledge. It’s something that he just didn’t get. Because he couldn’t. And here’s what: that’s OK. It’s acceptable. It’s life. Thanks to the advice of a wonderful friend, I now know – and I want all of you to know – that if someone can’t value and appreciate you for who you are this second they don’t deserve you for one second.
As with any relationship, there are many lessons – ones that I have learned in a few short days and many that are waiting for me down that familiar path. The point of writing this post is not to point fingers and be outraged and expose someone’s actions. After all, the only people who truly know a relationship are the ones who are in it. The point is to share a story in which I am gaining so much more than I thought I would lose if I found myself here.
If you ever find yourself discouraged because someone doesn’t “get it” – and by “it” I mean your passion – I hope you’ll remember this story. I hope you’ll know that sometimes life – and what you’re made of – can shock the hell out of you. I hope you’ll believe that there’s a force greater than you and I guiding you through the straightaways and detours of your path. And I hope you’ll smile. I know I am.
Southern Exposure
February 1st, 2010 § 7 Comments
I told you it would be a week until my Maryland trip recap! It’s crazy to think that on a day to say basis sometimes I feel like time is going so slow, but then when the week wraps up all I can think is “Holy Cannoli! Where did the last seven days go?!” So let’s travel back a little bit to my wonderful trip to see my family in Annapolis.
It’s funny because my Dad’s family is from Pennsylvania but somehow two of his siblings migrated to Maryland where they raised their families and some years later two of my cousins from other siblings made their way there. I have spent a significant amount of time there, having lived in Baltimore and just outside D.C. for a summer as well as making trips down for weddings and just to visit. Being next to last in the birth order for my dozen and a half cousins, I was always the “baby” who got treated as such and well, acted as such. Me? Immature, whiny and annoying for 10 years of my life? Never.
Now that we are all adults, spending time with my cousins is really enjoyable. Although there is still quite an age gap – anywhere from six to twelve years with the ones I saw last weekend – we can still relate to a lot more. I’m still the baby and I still get the “younger” treatment, but instead of it being because I am the tag-along, it’s because they all are looking out for me. Say it with me now, “Aww!”
Anyhow, I stayed with my cousin Michael and his wife Megan who are, without a doubt, two of the nicest and most kind-hearted people I know. I’m not sure if it was through my influence or not but they both read many of the same food blogs I frequent, so as soon as I walked in the door and sat down, I was handed a drink (rough drive in winter advisory weather) and we chatted about bloggers like they were long-lost friends or distant relatives for at least a solid hour.
The next day we had made plans to get a solid workout in at my cousin’s gym Big Vanilla – which BTW how cool of a name is that?! But first – the first of many new tries of the weekend:
The verdict? I don’t hate it! So much so that I tried – and by that I mean I made a good attempt but wasn’t 100 percent successful – to recreate it myself tonight. I believe this has Oikos, frozen fruit, two scoops of the SuperFood and a little water and ice in it. A few other ingredients were probably thrown in there but I wasn’t paying much attention.
Then it was time to make like Fergie and be up in the gym workin’ on our fitness.
That back left-hand corner will now be known as the spot where I got my ass handed to me. I seemed to think that I was unstoppable because I run a few miles a few days a week. Day-um was I wrong. Here’s what my cousin tortured me with set up for us:
30 Prisoner Squats
30 Pushups
10 Jumps
10 Stability Ball Leg Curls
10 Stability Ball Jackknifes
20 Step Ups (10 reps per side)
5 Inverted Rows
30 Forward Lunges (15 reps per side)
20 Close-Grip Pushups
15 Inverted Rows
15 Squats
5 Inverted Rows
For those of you keeping score, that’s 200 reps. And we did that three times. So, without tapping a calculator I trust you can figure out the level of torture I put my body through. To be honest, we switched some of these exercises up a bit (homegirl cannot do an inverted row to save her wimpy-armed life) but the quantity was still the same. And to be fair, Michael asked me more than once if I wanted to stop. My stubborn ass (and glutes and quads and tris and bis) said “No” which resulted in a solid five days of stiffness to the point that stairs were not in my best interest.
Post-Muscle Confusion-Not-To-Be-Confused-withP90X 2010, we headed to the homeland – aka Whole Foods. We wandered and browsed, settling on tasty selections from the Hot and Cold Bar. I know I tried a lot of new things like tofu and Urban Detox (neutral and love, in that order) but I was just so hype to load up and carb out that I couldn’t tell you what was on my plate. I did, however, enjoy every bit of it.
Speaking of Whole Foods, I also tasted Kombucha tea for the first time this weekend in the form of Synergy (the raspberry flavor). Megan swears by this. Michael absolutely loathes it. Me? I may have compared it to the juice that makes pickled eggs, well, pickled. Yet somehow we ended up bringing two bottles home with us from the Pittsburgh Whole Foods this week. Anyone out there a fan of this tea? There seems to be quite a debate over its benefits out there.
After a few hours of recovery, it was time to see more family!!! We had a little cocktail hour and caught up and the time just flew right by!
And there might have been a solid 20 minutes of burst of laughter playing with Photo Booth with my cousin, Joe.
Seriously, this is how it went down:
Joe: “Oooh! Do that one! (Points to effect)
Caitlin: “OK ready, look right there. (Points at camera on Macbook) RIGHT THERE JOE!!”
Photo Booth counts down 3 2 1. Takes Picture. We view.
Joe and Caitlin: “BAHAHAHAHAHA.” Insert tears rolling down cheeks. “ANOTHER!!!”
He and my cousin, Amanda, are expecting their first baby in a couple months. Who wouldn’t want to be born to a Dad like that?
And if you’re wondering, we did all manage to get a good one together.
The next day was spent walking around Annapolis eating copious amounts of food including a cheesy pretzel log from the Dutch Amish Market (inhaled too quick for consumption) a smoothie at Robecks, a chocolate peanut butter cupcake and coffee. It was pretty cold that afternoon but it was good to get the lactic acid pumping walk around and totally cool to see students from the Naval Academy in full garb running around buying groceries and eating ice cream.
Then we came home and cleaned up from the soiree the night before.
Obviously, I am back safe and sound 
And I have lived a whole week of my life since then – which I will (hopefully!) post more about this week! Happy Monday y’all!!
