Unseen
April 27th, 2010 § 24 Comments
Now that spring has sprung, I get the sense of everything being “new” again. You know, we remember trees are actually green, we see flowers in bloom and that white stuff ceases to spit from the skies for another five months. I can’t help but think aside from the foliage outdoors, that spring also means a sense of feeling “new” myself.
As you may or may not know, this winter I went through a pretty tough breakup. I recovered fairly quickly – perhaps too quickly. I found myself feeling as if nothing had happened within hours. Since then though, I have found my mind being occupied with thoughts about all aspects of the relationship – the good, the bad, the why, the how, the hurt. Oftentimes, it’s the little things that remind me of it and him and how great I felt when we were good. At first it was the usual – the mix and match 6-pack of beer in my fridge, the Nature’s Valley bars in the pantry that only he ate, the big empty space in my bed every night. Then as I felt my mind was moving on with the passing days, little unexpected reminders would surface. DVD releases for the movies we saw together being advertised, the mention of his company’s name when I asked patients for their health insurance information, a few items of his clothing stashed in my drawers uncovered in a rage of spring cleaning, things being brought up in conversation that immediately without a second thought warrant a mention of, “xxx likes that, too” or “We went there once,” that I just as quickly tell myself not to say.
I heard somewhere – and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was from “Sex and the City” – that every relationship is just a comparison to those before it. We are constantly measuring up the checks and balances to the last person we shared our lives so closely with. While this may be true for the time we are actually still classified as “not single” what happens when the “not” drops off? Does the comparison game continue? Should it? Or does it change to comparing ourselves then to what we should have been then? Or who we are now? When does all the “shoulda, coulda, woulda, what the hell was I thinking?” stop and the “OK! Movin’ on!” start?
I hate that I even give the time of day to a single thought surrounding someone who projected so much hurt into my heart. I hate that somewhere, there is still a part of me that cares. I hate that three months – and in some cases three years – later the ghosts of relationships past come back to haunt me.
But.
I love that I can choose to do with my time what I want. I love how I can stay up til 1 a.m. doing nothing and not have to make the obligatory good night phone call or go to bed hours earlier on account of someone else’s schedule. I love that I can choose to spend my vacation days taking trips I’ve paid for and planned out. I love that I can watch anything, cook anything, eat when I want, bum around sans shower, be lazy, run at my leisure and make big decisions without having to consult someone else.
This is the time where I need to love all those things and love them on my own. This is my winter where everything is happening underground – unseen – and when spring comes, I will no doubt, bloom.
Midnight Munchies
April 23rd, 2010 § 20 Comments
My roommate and I are pretty creative people. She is actually the person I have to give credit to for coining the word “blend” which if you didn’t already know is a super cool way to talk about the friends you’ve made through blogging. Blogger friend = blend. Use it, people.
Another phrase we have come to create and love in our house? Clearwater. No, not like the beach in sunny Florida where you can run and sun and drink and be merry. Quite the contrary. Clearwater in our house relates to the state of your bank account. I don’t know about anyone else out there, but when it gets close to payday, things get stretched mighty thin here – I mean, I did put my best friend Chase Visa in the freezer and all. So what happens with all the little dolla bill fisheys swim away? You start seeing the bottom of your little ocean of funds. As in it’s clearing out. As in, I am in clearwater right now.
“Hey wanna go to the movies?”
“Can’t. I’m in clearwater.”
“Let’s go have a drink after work.”
“Sorry. I’m in clearwater.”
“OH EM GEE. I want everything in H&M right ne-OW. Dang, clearwater.”
So, when pay day does arrive in all its glory, we are two very happy little ladies. Not only can we stop eating spaghetti noodles with ranch dressing for dinner, we can actually go places and do things and you know, be a grownup and pay bills.
Yesterday our kitchen hit a sad state of nothingness. No produce, no bars (gosh do we love our bars) no eggs and even gasp no trash bags. So we decided to do what anyone in clearwater would and wait until midnight when our paychecks magically zinged! into our accounts to go grocery shopping. I mean sometimes, you just can’t wait. KnowI’msayin’?
So we ventured off to the GIANT! new grocery store in town, Market District.
Now, I feel kind of like a mean girl saying this, but Market District is just a wannabe Whole Foods. Giant Eagle is the primary grocery store around here and Market District is like a Giant Eagle that started watching “The Doctors,” got a gym membership and decided it wanted to be like the cool organic/all-natural stores on the block. The good thing about Market District is we found a lot of unique foods that I know Whole Foods carries, but at a fraction of the cost. Another good thing about this particular location? It’s open 24 hours and no one was there last night.
Now, I get the allure of Whole Foods. I love it just as much as the next health conscious chick. But, I tend to get overwhelmed in there. Like, nearly-an-anxiety-attack-meets-OD-on-food-porn kind of overwhelm. I feel like there’s just so much to look at and so many people and tiny aisles and finicky carts and oh! the hot bar, can’t forget the hot bar! So, taking a more relaxed pace was what I needed.
Here are a few things I was excited to find.
Popchips! We opted for the smaller 99 cent bag and whew! it’s a good thing we did or this house would be smelling like a garlic clove today. Strong flavor but I did like the consistency, it reminded me a bit of a rice cake.
OK confession: I only bought this because every food blogger I have ever talked to gets their drawers all in a twist over this. What can I say, I’m an impulse shopper. Did I squeal in delight when I saw these even though I have never had it in my life? Why, yes. Yes, I did.
Other great finds include strawberry pomegranate organic yogurt from Stonyfield, blue corn tortilla chips, more bars than I could have ever imagined – I am on a white chocolate macadamia nut kick – and the return of the one true love of my (food) life.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! (As in, angels, singing. Or more squealing.)
I have an addiction slight obsession with this stuff and about lost my marbles when Coffee Mate announced they’d be keeping it on board after the holiday season. Except I can’t find it ANYWHERE. That is like telling Carrie Bradshaw, “Oh I’m sorry Ms. Bradshaw, those Manolos you love? We lied. They’re GONE. Bye!”
I wanted to dump a baker’s dozen of those babies in the cart a la the scene in the Piggly Wiggly during “Steel Magnolias” where Clairee loads up the cart with pork and beans for Drum Eatenton while M’Lynn recovers from surgery. (Six million gold stars if you know what I am talking about.) Alas, I got two and now I know where I can get my fix, um, favorite creamer.
Waking up in the morning is just so much easier with a kitchen stocked with good food – don’t you agree???
Happy weekend y’all!
Good For The Mind, Good For The Soul
April 22nd, 2010 § 9 Comments
Something I’ve loved for as far back as my memory takes me in these 25 years is dance. Whether it be classical ballet, modern, jazz, tap, whatever – it’s always had a place in my heart. I took some form of dance classes – or at times four forms of dance classes – from the time I was five until my studio closed when I was 13. When I was 14 I traveled 30 minutes to the next town over to resume classes at a new studio. At the end of my first year, it, too closed. At some point around that time, I even had the pleasure of teaching some very tiny dancers at my local YWCA with my beloved instructor from my childhood. All I can remember is having to wake up at what seemed like an ungodly hour on a Saturday (8 a.m. – doesn’t seem so bad now) and drag myself down there. In hindsight I wish I would have cherished it more.
Baby Twenty-Fifth’s (well not really a baby..) first recital – a swan in Noah’s Ark.
Throughout middle and high school, dance was something we’d gather to do on a Friday or Saturday night after football and basketball games at a place lovingly known as Tic Toc. Yes, that was its name, “We don’t stop,” was its tag line. Basically, my little podunk town would charge $2 at the door of its recreation center where old ladies would have knitting circles and baby showers would be held by day, turn off all the lights, bring in a DJ and a giant box (the “booty box”) to showcase our dancing skills and let us country kids go all out.
When I chose my university, I hit a double jackpot because it houses one of the nation’s top dance programs. I was fortunate enough to not only be surrounded by dance – literally, dancers would be leaping and bounding through the halls – but to have many opportunities to see good dance at performances throughout the years. I have written before about the course I took my senior year titled, “Writing in the Arts” that brought dance back into my life in a whole new way. During that semester, I learned so much about so many different forms of dance. The papers I wrote for that class are ones that I held onto and re-read often. I mean, when else can you write about Audrey Hepburn in GAP commercials, Mikhail Baryshnikov and his loose link to “Sex and the City,” Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers and krumping? Oh, it was a great class.
What else is great? The fact that Rebecca – my beloved professor who taught the class – and I have maintained our friendship and get together often, usually to catch up over a meal. Last Saturday, I had the pleasure of switching things up and going to see a show with her.
We were treated to three pieces by the Ballets Jazz de Montreal: “Jack in a Box” “Zip Zap Zoom” and “Locked Up Laura.” The former two incorporated the whole company while the latter was a duo, and my favorite (also pictured here on the program). You can visit the company’s site here to view videos and read more.
I love attending dance performances. I love the old theaters with the modern lighting. I love the ushers with their pressed, crisp white shirts and their boxy black vests. I love the season ticket holders and the college kids and young professionals in the cheap seats. I love the blinking light and the chime when it’s five minutes to curtain. And the curtain, oh! that curtain on the stage. I love how quickly it rises and how it seems nearly unstoppable as its heavy fabric whoosh-es down toward the stage at the end of a piece, looking as if its fringe will go right through the floor. I love the encore applause and the talk back sessions after the performance with the dancers. I love how two women, both with a love for dance, can watch the same thing and have so many emotions evoked in their hearts, minds and soul. To me, the beauty in dance is how differently each person views it and yet no one has a right or wrong answer when it comes to answering the immediate question,”So what did you think?”
As always, I felt varied emotions watching the three pieces. Of course I loved it, but it’s hard to really go into detail about what I loved and why I enjoyed it. Rebecca and I were talking afterward and she said something so spot on, “It’s very hard to talk about good dance.” I couldn’t agree more. There just aren’t words – at least not the right kind that do it justice and give it the beautiful credit it has due.
What I will say is this: having not been to a performance in almost a year and a half, Rebecca once again awakened my love for dance. I am craving more Saturday nights like this – where I’m in bed by 11 and I wake up the next morning with nothing but fond memories of an enjoyable evening. Having this access to culture is something that really is a part of me and something I know will be a part of me always. It’s hard to imagine going long periods of time without good art in my life – whether it be dance or theater, a museum, a symphony, a documentary, a jazz club, salsa dancing. The point is, having this exposure and taking advantage of expanding my knowledge and sharpening my thinking is part of what healthy living means to me. Let’s face it: great, whole foods and good, honest sweat sessions are great for the body, but the things we do for our minds are just as important, no?
What about you? What do you love that you just couldn’t do without no matter where you lived or what your life situation was?
I’ve been loving the discussions going on in the comments – let’s keep it up!
A change will do you good
April 19th, 2010 § 18 Comments
Although you probably wouldn’t know it, there’s been a lot of changing going on around here. As I have said before, I’m not one to make a big production about changes or even pick a specific date to make an addition or subtraction from my life. I just decide on a whim or an idle afternoon that I want to shake things up a bit. And since you come here to read about my life, I’m sure you want to know what they are, right? 
The first change may surprise you, even more so if you know me in real life or follow me on Twitter. A few days before April 1, I decided to give up drinking for the month. Now, I don’t want to give the wrong impression – I am by no means a regular at any bar or the bar scene in general, but that doesn’t mean homegirl doesn’t enjoy letting loose on more than one occasion a month, you know? I find that I go through spurts of being a homebody and a busybody depending on the time of year, my work schedule and where I go or who comes into town. However, I figured with the half marathon looming a mere four weeks away at that point, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little experiment that doubled as a healthy initiative.
Although I am just past the half-way point, I thought I’d feel more of a difference by now. You see, my BFF Captain Morgan and I get along real well. And although I’m sure he’s more than a little disappointed in our lack of interaction, I thought my body would be bouncing off the walls feeling better than ever with his absence.
“No alcohol! Wheee I can do anything – I am practically a super hero!!”
Except, well, I am drinking here.
It’s not to say I don’t feel good – because I do – but I don’t feel like a totally new person, either. I’m looking at this as a good sign – I mean, hey, I’m not so codependent on drinking that I’m going through withdrawal. And having a few beverages on a Saturday night won’t totally destroy me, either. I think the key here is moderation and knowing when my breaking point – a.k.a. the difference between “I’m good” and “I’m so not good” – hits, I really should, you know, stop.
And alright, I have to confess, there was one night last week I sipped on a cocktail during a comedy show. I had it after dinner and nursed it throughout the entire two hours and didn’t feel guilty for going outside my challenge. It just flowed with the evening – kind of like popcorn and Buncha Crunch at the movies. Or is that just me?
I swear half the reason I even did this was because I love the table.
The other big change I’ve made over the last four weeks is purely cosmetic – no tanning. Now, before you get all judgy-wudgy-was-a-bear on me, let it be known I do not tan in a tanning bed. In fact, I haven’t set foot in one since I moved back to Pittsburgh in November 2008. However, I do spray tan. Yes, the jig is up, people. My natural skin color is not the glow you see in pictures here. I’m just a translucent girl with lots and lots of freckles.
Difference?? Naw…
I know no tanning is probably better than any other alternative, but I figure spray tanning is probably the least harmful. Plus, I like instant gratification. Like drinking, I go through phases with spray tanning. Some months I go every week while others I drop back to half that. It, too, is usually based on what I have going on in my social calendar because let’s face it, we all feel better with a little color. According to my planner, the end of March and the month of April lacked anything overly exciting so I decided to give my epidermis and my wallet a break and see what happened.
Well, my skin must really be rejoicing because wouldn’t you know, I am suffering through some blemish blunders of my own. It’s nothing serious, but I definitely think it’s my body’s way of saying, “Hey thanks for the mist-free month. Now we can breathe and regenerate like we’re supposed to.”
Other than that, no real changes. It’s nice not to have to plan my wardrobe around spray day and be able to wear any piece of clothing without anything rubbing off, but I gotta admit, I miss the little boost of confidence.
Again, that word moderation is pushing its bossy way through my mind on this one. I know that I can, in fact, be a little on the pale side and still prevail. Phew, I was a little worried about my survival rate.
So there you have it. Two life changes that may seem trite, but are definitely a part of who I am. I’m anxious to see how I feel by May 1.
What have you given up in the past? Was it a change that stuck with you through the “cut-off date?” For me, quitting smoking was my biggest challenge and greatest win. I went from being addicted to credit cards to hiding my shame as a closet smoker and now I’ve quit both and will be running 13.1 miles in less than two weeks. It’s amazing what one change can spur.
Leaving Your Mark
April 13th, 2010 § 14 Comments
I have a confession to make. I am slightly obsessed with documentaries.
Somewhere in Texas, my brother – and possibly my mother – just fainted.
It’s not that I didn’t have an appreciation for educational films in the past, I think I just had one too many, “Rocks: The First Frontier” type exposures that gave a bad connotation to the genre.
I’ve had the ability to log in to my parents’ Netflix account since Christmas yet I only remembered this a few weeks ago. While I’m not adding movies to their queue to be sent to their house – it’s a bit of a hike for 120 minutes of cinematic pleasure – I am able to stream certain films and watch them instantly on my laptop. This is either the greatest thing to happen to me or the demise of my social life as we know it.
A handful of the half-dozen films I’ve managed to find the time to watch have been documentaries. I’ve watched “The September Issue” as well as parts of “The Human Face” with John Cleese. Most recently I watched “No Impact Man.”
The film documents the life of New Yorkers Colin Beavan, his wife Michelle Conlin, and their daughter, Isabella, in their attempt to leave no impact on the environment for one year. The list of “give ups” and changes is long: no plastic bags, no plastic bottles, only locally grown produce and products, no toilet paper, no diapers (Isabella wears cloth diapers), no public transportation or transportation of any kind, no elevators, an in-home compost box complete with live worms to break down their food scraps, no TV, no new purchases (clothes, etc), no household cleaning products, no makeup. For the last six months of the project, they forgo electricity in their tiny New York apartment – mind you part of this comes in the dead heat of summer.
There are some exceptions to the rules. Colin and family take a train to upstate New York to visit the farm from which they’ve been buying their milk and produce at their local farmer’s market. Michelle breaks down at least once and has to get her caffeine fix to aid her through a deadline (She works at “Business Week” and since there is no locally grown coffee, it’s on the “give-up” list.) During the electricity drought, Colin hooks up a solar panel to give his laptop enough juice to update his blog on the project, which will inevitably turn into a book.
I found this film to be fascinating. When I told a co-worker about it, he replied, “So they were basically Amish?” and then went on to say that the only reason Beavan and his family could do this was they lived in a city built by carbon that allowed them to give up so much – that out in the “real world” (I think he meant rural America) this would be impossible. I don’t see it as black and white as that, but I do agree that living in suburbia would make for a difficult 10 to 15 mile commute into the city without the aid of a train, bus or the like.
They had their critics and doubters in the film. Colin made several appearances on both late night and early morning television shows where the hosts joked he was crazy. Michelle visits Kerry Trueman, an environmental blogger, who admits to having a negative first impression of the project. “The fact that No Impact Man’s ostentatious embrace of all things organic did not come about in, well, an organic fashion, is what bothers me,” she wrote on her blog, Eating Liberally, and later read out loud to Michelle. Trueman goes on to add that she “questions [Beavan's] sincerity,” because he has a “gee-willikers” quality that came across in a New York Times write-up about the project. After meeting the couple, however, she changes her mind and decides to give the couple more credit that doubt.
Another point Trueman made got me thinking. She told Michelle the reason so many people had criticism and negative response to the project was because it made them feel guilty about their consumer habits – that they become traumatized at the thought of having to do without things.
At the end of the film, the couple talks about things they decide to continue with after the year is up (they do bring back electricity which is more than welcome after a debacle with two make-shift powerless refrigerators.) Michelle says she is rethinking everything in terms of what’s important.
Personally, I don’t plan on giving up my car or making any fast moves on my circuit breaker any time soon. And I can’t quite give up plastic bottles and containers that my favorite fare comes in. But I do try my best to take my own bags to the store and I plan to start making local produce part of my grocery shopping. When I had the access in other cities, I used public transportation in favor of driving. When I lived in a small town, I did a lot of walking. Regardless, I think no matter the living situation, we can all make a few small changes to adhere better to the age-old mantra of “Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.”
Of course, if you’ve gotten this far, you know I recommend the film, but I’d like to know, what are your thoughts on “No Impact Man”? Do you have any daily habits that have transformed to leave less of an impact on your environment? Would you reconsider any habits to change?
Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is
April 9th, 2010 § 24 Comments
Happy Friday y’all! Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about something that many of us partake in on the weekends: grocery shopping. Specifically, the weekly ritual as seen from the eyes of someone trying to be frugal without the fructose aka your favorite sassy homegirl The Twenty-Fifth Year.
“Heeeyyy girl heeyyy!”
I know many of us in the Healthy Living Blog0sphere feel as if we just can’t escape food. We blog about it, we read about it, we photograph it – we live it. Julia Child I am not, I can appreciate a new twist on an old recipe or a great photo of a dish that I could almost lick my screen over. And I’ve got to hand it to you guys, I’ve welcomed quite a few delicious additions to my diet that do my body good.
However, it’s gotta be said: all this healthy grub? It’s killing my bank account. Now that I am into more greens than whites and browns, I find that I am dropping a pretty penny to buy the freshest produce and not-so-ordinary products. I’ve tried everything: going coupon crazy, planning out meals according to store sales, shopping several stores to get the best prices and even scraping my cupboards and shelves til weird college-like combos could be made no more! (Ritz crackers with pb&j anyone?)
Still, without a doubt, every time I trek it on down to whichever store I choose, reusable bags to boot, plan in mind, by the time I circle the perimeter 16 times – I am the most absent-minded shopper – I wind up at the checkout staring down my hard-to-swallow fate:
Do you know what would really make every day taste better? Cutting your prices in HALF!!
Granted, I got a decent amount of fare for this bill, but we all have learned our lesson the hard way that you can walk out of Whole Paycheck Foods spending this amount and all you have to show for it is some incense and tea that promises to make your hair grow.
It’s funny how at my ripe old age, I have less of a problem – it’s still a problem, though – dropping so many Benjamins a month on fuel for my belly. There’s been plenty a time where getting what I need to feel great trumps the cute, new outfit card. But it still doesn’t make it any easier.
Perhaps it’s because I care more now. Throughout college, I am not sure that I ate much in the way of health. I can remember an entire half of a giant cupboard filled with 100-calorie packs of crackers, cookies and little snacks that I wouldn’t throw in my cart nowadays simply because I am more educated on how uncomplimentary that kind of food is to one’s diet. Not to mention I can’t just delight in stuffing my face with any old thing I can get my hands on and not feel it – yes physically feel it - having a bad affect on my body. That doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate a few scoops of ice cream during the week or divulge in a cocktail come Saturday night, but I have come to understand and achieve a better sense of balance in my life. Healthy living to me is just that: finding what brings balance to your life and embracing it.
I heard somewhere – I think it may have been from Dr. Oz – that in the present day, we are spending less money on food and more money on health care. Whereas previous generations spent more on food and less on health care. Stop and think about it. We do have plenty of new diseases now and a growing problem of obesity, cancer and diabetes in our country. Are high food prices solely to blame? Good Lord by no means, no. I think we all know there are plenty of other factors to take into consideration here. But if you were strapped for cash and having to provide for one or even 10, which would you choose for your family’s dessert: the Chips Ahoy! on sale for $1.89 or the dozen and a half clementines for $4.98? It certainly isn’t a crystal-clear-black-and-white scenario for American families today, but it has to make you wonder, is there really a direct correlation with the food we put in our bodies to our overall long-term health? If what we’re feeding ourselves today is packed with more sugar, less fiber and a ton of genetically modified products, what will our society and its health look like in 50 years? Will today’s generations have shorter lifespans than their parents? The more I learn and read, the more passionate and – I hate to say it – the more terrified I become.
How do you treat your food budget? Do you shop the sales and get the best deals for the healthiest choices still spending more than you would like? Or do you forgo the “fresher is better” perspective and buy foods that you aren’t as healthy but are, in fact, cheaper? Y’all had such great insight in my last post I welcome your thoughts, opinions and even advice to those of us shopping on a budget! Let your voice be heard – comment below!!
Shortchanged
April 7th, 2010 § 16 Comments
I’m about to jump up on my soapbox and perhaps open a can of worms here, so hold onto your britches people. Lately, there’s been a lot of talk going on regarding how society, the media, etc. portrays beauty, fashion, celebrities and even the “every woman.” I know there has been at least one instance where a magazine has gone air brush free and just last week, Caitlin shared a link to a photo gallery of the decade’s biggest airbrushing scandals that blew my mind (you really must check it out.)
Now I know and I have known for quite some time that airbrushing takes place in ads, magazines, etc. I know that celebrities go to extreme – oftentimes unsafe – measures to appear to be as flawless as one can get without, say, removing a rib. And I know that young, impressionable minds, as well as mid-twenty impressionable minds see these images and whether they want to, or even mean to, have some sort of thought or reaction to them. Personally, I am someone who rarely talks down on myself. You won’t find me having a “Mean Girls” moment where I stand in front of the mirror with my friends and slam my nails, pores or thighs. Although I am working on becoming the best version of myself, I still love the version of myself I am living with now.
However, that does not mean that I don’t thumb through Us Weekly every Thursday night, admiring the toned legs of SJP or the flawless skin of Jennifer Aniston, perhaps silently wondering why I don’t look like that? I’m not perfect, people. I can judge and compare until the cows come home, therefore proving my point that women as a whole are impressionable.
So yesterday, when I walked past my local American Eagle Outfitters, the display made me do a double-take. Right now, the store is running a promotion of all shorts under $25 (which ironically ends today) and their tag line?
Hot People Wear Shorts
Now, given what I have just told you about how my mind works, what do you think my reaction was?
It was something like this: “Oh how cute, it’s getting hot. When people are hot, aside from their body’s natural reaction of cooling itself through sweating, they wear less clothes, hence shorts. Wait a second, I don’t always wear shorts, even if it is 90 degrees outside. What is American Eagle trying to say? That because I choose to keep my thighs covered up I am not ‘hot’ or ‘hott’ by their standards? So all the boys, girls, men and woman who follow suit are also not hot according to you American Eagle?? I mean, I see the stick-thin tweens you use in your ads and I’ve tried to shimmy my booty into your jeans before to no avail so is this just another subliminal message that the young, tan and size 0-4 are your target market and every one else shouldn’t bother strolling through your doors??”
OK so maybe I got a little fired up there. But seriously, as a fairly confident woman, I still found myself looking pretty deep into those four words. Be it a marketing ploy, a cute catch phrase or a subconscious mind screw, it still made me think. And what really made me think was that for every person like myself who is somewhat bothered by what the store’s windows were shouting out to the rest of the mall, how many people were truly affected by it? How many were discouraged, saddened or felt badly about themselves because, hey, maybe they don’t wear shorts all the time either??
I did a little research and saw that American Eagle has already has to defend itself on Twitter, saying:
“The subject line was a joke on the fact that people wear shorts when it’s hot…get it, hot people…?”
Which in AE’s defense, I get, but still even a day later, I still am bothered by this message.
I want to open this up to a discussion in the comments. What do you think? Is this another subconscious message to our psyche that we must fit the norm and the norm is wearing shorts? Or am I simply over analyzing a tween-to-twenty conglomerate company’s play on words? Don’t hold back – no opinion is right, wrong, good or bad – they are opinions and I really would love to hear them!
Chomp!
April 1st, 2010 § 25 Comments
Something incredible happened this week. Something amazing, something that’s been a long time coming.
Ladies and gentlemen, blends, friends and strangers,
I have been bitten by the running bug.
Now, you might be scratching your head, thinking, “Hold the phone. I thought you run all the time? Aren’t you training for a half marathon? Whaaaa?”
Yes, yes. I have been running consistently since last summer when I quit smoking. Yes I have raced before and have another one in a month (a month?! Ahh!) but this week everything clicked.
Enter Monday. After two rest days and a day at work that left me considering pulling out multiple chunks of my own hair, I ate a late lunch of the kitchen disaster manicotti at 4 p.m. By 6:45 I was headed out the door to tackle a short run. I was thinking I’d only do about three miles or so because I didn’t want to be running all over the City in the dark. Right off the bat, something in this run felt different. I literally felt like my feet were lighter. I had absolutely no pain anywhere. Throughout my entire training, I’ve been dealing with a sore back and the end of my tailbone pain and last weekend I took a spill that left my ankles, feet and knees bruised so I was very hesitant in believing I wouldn’t be ouch-ing my way through several miles.
I decided to go with it, half expecting to feel a little burnt out, but fully hoping the feeling would last. As I ran the course I run every day, I snuck several glances my Garmin reading paces in the 8:00-10:00 mile ranges. For someone who averages a nice jog around 11:00ish or slower, I couldn’t believe my eyes. I kept checking the screen to make sure some crazy magnetic force wasn’t bouncing off sky scrapers and throwing it off. As my distance increased, I maintained my quicker pace, realizing I was soon going to hit a record time. I crossed an intersection by PNC Park and looked down just as I hit the 5K mark. I stopped the Garmin, and stood there in disbelief.
I shaved five minutes off my best 5K time. Five whole minutes!! I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to cry, I wanted to laugh, to jump up and down, to hug someone – tell someone!
I looked at the screen, took in the moment for what it was, walked a block and started running again.
I ran around the stadiums and back to my neighborhood. It was dusk by this time and I was still on top of the world. I knew my training plan called for 4.5 miles and I was less than a mile off at that point so I decided to run around my block a few times. I took to the street instead of the side walk and felt like I was 100 feet tall. I had to have been glowing at this point because I just wanted to burst with happiness.
Being the over analyst that I am, I tried to justify my record time with factors from my day – I did have two cups of coffee, I did have a large serving of pasta before my run, I did rest for days prior. Surely, this was a fluke and I’d return to my normal easy jogs. I mean, I have never been an athlete in my life. As my mother puts it, I joined sports for the social aspect of it. I have always envied my friends who excel at a sport (or at three and four as many of them do.) “Running” a mile in high school took me 15 minutes. Last summer, I huffed and puffed to even run a solid minute. Heck, I have struggled some days just to pump out a mile.
I’ve had two runs since, one very short and one a PDR of 6.5 miles. Neither gave me that floating feeling. Both left me itching to hit the pavement again. Neither of them had me running as fast the entire time. Both had me running that fast at least part of the time.
What I can tell you is this: running feels more natural now than it ever has. It feels like writing does to me. It feels like home. It feels like something I should and will be doing for the rest of my life.I know something clicked and I know that my life will never be the same.
And in keeping the two in comparison, neither writing nor running is easy. In fact, I find them to be two of the most challenging tasks I take on every day. But with that challenge comes reward. There are times the words just flow from my brain to my finger tips and times where I get stuck for hours, days even. There are times where my feet feel like air and times when they feel like cement blocks.
Will I have bad runs? Yup. Will I struggle to write posts and content? Absolutely.
Will the PDRs and record times keep coming in? Without a doubt. Will I reach my goals of being published again? If I can dream it I can do it.
Right now, I think I’ll just ride out the feeling of weightlessness and continue to feel like I can fly.
