Tag: fitness

adventure, celebrations

Holidays Smolidays

2chicksandapen

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful. I am so thankful for my life. The shortcomings. The high points. The people. My friends. My family. My pets. My coworkers. All of it.

I may reflect on my thankfulness differently than others. I don’t need to share my feelings through food nor see somebody in person to let them know they are valued. This year I reflected from a remote location. I was up early before the sunrise. Not to cook but to reflect. It was important to me. I opted for video or text messages to send reminders of value others play in my life. Non traditional, yes. Heartfelt, yes. Memorable, I think so.

My way of celebrating is my way. Family gatherings often end with stressful bickering or binge eating and food comas. No thanks. I’m carving out time for a hike this year. Some peaceful time in nature. Breathing fresh air. Listening to birds chirp. Avoiding chaos. I’m eating simple turkey breast and sides. Easy peasy. No rush. No fluff. No stress. Easy cleanup. I’m letting my adult kids choose how they celebrate. They appreciate this. They don’t want to be forced to attend a required gathering. Just keeping in simple.

When I look back over the past five Thanksgivings, I have traveled out of state for four out of five. There is a pattern. Avoid the conflict, chaos and disappointment. The latter being the worst. Not being able to go everywhere you are invited. Letting somebody down. It’s a tough cross to bear, but an invitation is just that. An invitation to join xyz. It’s not a requirement. If a host doesn’t feel comfortable in their own house, that’s added stress to host. That’s so puzzling to me. I just wouldn’t do it. Not worth it to me. 

I’ve read many articles online this year about Dear Abby, my son-in-law is a pig. Nobody wants him at the family functions. Dear Abby, my daughter-in-law has no manners. Her etiquette is not becoming of her. Dear Abby, my mother is not nice to my husband and it makes the meal table very stressful. So many variations of people being unhappy and losing sight of thankfulness.

I choose non-traditional. I don’t like to confirm to norms. I like to set new traditions and reinvent those experiences with a little flair thereafter. Is that wrong? Am I harming anyone? Am I choosing happy my way? How fun is it to go to a new destination and see how others celebrate? How about volunteering for the homeless and making their day? So many options. 

I prefer paper plates and easy cleanup. No fine china at my turkey day table or other major holiday. I prefer Friendsgiving or gatherings of such. The ones where everyone brings their favorite dish to share. The ones where people focus on what they liked about their standard traditions vs. all the must dos. 

I’m in shorts and slippers today. Nothing fancy. Just me. Comfortably dressed as I gorge myself. No uncomfortable dress up to be presentable to others. My holidays are full of options. The destination may differ. The food may be shaken up. The company may vary as well. That’s part of the fun.

However you celebrate Thanksgiving and other holidays, be thankful. Be thankful for your life, your health and your ability to be present. The latter being most important. Your presence can be virtually in some instances because you are a present to those receiving the message no matter how it’s delivered and really you can’t be everywhere at the same time. You have to improvise. 

I’m also okay with knowing that as I age I may chose solitude. I may choose to reflect alone. That’s my choice. I hope when and if that day comes, my kids understand. If I’m not able to travel or run a race on turkey day I may need to find my peace in my own way. Time will tell. Of course, I’ll probably write about it, too.

To all those who frown on this post, more power to you. I won’t hold it against you, rather it will be motivating for me. I will choose to enjoy my peace more to bank some peacefulness for you. 

Happy turkey day and smolidays to come from this finicky old gal with an independent mindset just tossing this rant out to the world. This post is also coming out after Thanksgiving as it may hit a little different after you had your actual Thanksgiving celebration or shit show.

Football

Parades 

Food

Shopping

Chaos

Embrace your celebration style as I do mine.

challenges, fitness and nutrition

Thriller Lake

2chicksandapen

When a friend first sent me the link, I laughed. He was training for an ultra running event, and who knows why but he was looking for more. I am training for a 15k in January and slowly (slowly!) increasing my running every week. I jotted the date down in my calendar, thinking I would go and support him if he did it. But a little voice in the back of my mind also wondered if I could do the three hour event myself as part of my own preparation for January…

Finding the time and energy to run in this season of life has been harder than my ramp up to a half marathon several years ago. I’m not really sure why that is. Technically, I have fewer commitments crowding my calendar. Still, I haven’t been putting the volume of miles into my legs that I should be in order to feel prepared.

As the date crept up, I decided it was time to test myself. If I end up walking, so be it. I set the goal of 5 laps…each lap is 2.2 miles. 11 miles in 3 hours seemed possible. Most of my miles these days are between 15-17 minutes. With a few breaks and to allow for some slowing in the latter miles, 5 laps would be a challenge but I was determined to try.

Another challenge was the time of the event. I would be on the course from 5 pm to 8 pm. I am a hard-core morning exercise person. Lately I have been running a mile or two in the afternoons once or twice a week, but an all-out extended effort in the evening would be a stretch.

When the day came, I had told a couple of people what I was up to but not many. I’m inspired by this image from Compete Every Day.

I packed up my stuff. I ate some extra carbs. I showed up at the right time, grabbed my bib, and lined up with a few dozen other brave / crazy souls and away we went.

Honestly, the run was pretty uneventful. I have a good playlist. People were encouraging. I was several minutes ahead of my target times on each of the first couple of loops. Some runners had full tents set up with chairs and food and decorations. The official tent had trays of cold food and hot. The runners who were competing in the 6 and 12 hour events commented on the quality of the grilled cheese, quesadillas, and more. It had a Halloween theme so some people were dressed in costume.

Aside from cheering on other racers, my mind was focused on my time and my goal. From a “back of the pack” running group on facebook, I had figured out how to set my watch for intervals. I would run two minutes, walk one. I did this pattern for most of the event. My watch buzzed me every time I had to switch.

My trusty playlist kept me going. I even had some universe whispers from a friend who has passed on. He came to me in a group of songs that kept me moving when I was tired.

Other pleasant diversions were the signs some had made to encourage runners. There was a trick or treat fun run with little kids in costume. There were dogs. There were lights. A pretty sunset and a beautiful Harvest moon.

Lap four started and my energy really started to falter. My strength in these long efforts is usually being able to stay consistent even in the later miles. At least that was the case last time around. But I could really feel my lack of training after mile 8. Slower walking in my recovery minutes. Walking creeping into the running minutes. I could also feel that I hadn’t fueled properly. I ate more running chews than I ever have. I ate less nutritious, whole food than I ever do. Combined with running with a headlamp, I was slogging across the finish line of lap 5 but I had about 9 minutes to spare. It was all just guts and will for the last mile or two, but I met my goal.

Given the chance, I would totally do it again. It gives me a benchmark to work from. It doesn’t give me “back of the pack” anxiety since I’m working against a clock and not a finish line. So if I’m free again next year, I’ll do it. I’m also looking at scheduling a half marathon in the spring.

A few kinks to work out…how to fuel for an afternoon race. Shortly after I completed the run, I was overcome with nausea. It lasted for hours. I knew it was from the sugared, artificial nutrition I had taken in (oh, and caffeine). It would also be nice to have a friend or two on the course. Even if I don’t run at the same pace as others, it does help to have someone out there sharing the suffering.

I’m clapping for myself and looking ahead. The goal now is to get out and run more often. To spend more time putting miles on my legs. Training to get faster and better. By the time the 15k rolls around, I hope to be feeling much better about the experience.

adventure

NYC Mid Day Tour

2chicksandapen

Ping pong in the park. One of my travel mates says: when was the last time you went to the park at home to just chill out or meet a friend? I heard nothing. It’s not an everyday activity for us. Is that because we drive more outside the city?

That brought up the thought of walking. Is there less obesity for those who live in the city because they walk everywhere? It got me thinking about how sedentary my day really is in comparison to others. I walk to my car in the garage vs. walking to the bus stop down the street or the subway. I park at the grocery store and do minimal walking vs. toting my groceries ten city blocks in a cart. How many suburban adults make it a point to walk each day? I checked my Apple Watch and I have a lot of room to improve on my personal step count.

Lunch was next on the bucket list. The famous Katz’s Deli. And let me tell you this place did not disappoint. From the moment you walk in the door the aroma is amazing. The vibe is super cool. The people are from all sorts of backgrounds. The sandwich masters are friendly yet very New York in persona. Despite the harsh exterior or tough guy voices, they were very customer-driven. Offering samples of meat to make sure you got what you wanted. I was on the fence between a pastrami sandwich and corned beef sandwich. Then I saw the sliced turkey and was completely torn. Then I tasted the pastrami and I was sold. Just one bite was all it took.

The carving of the meat was fun to watch. The bins of meat were full yet they cleared out fast. Not sure how much meat this place serves in a day, but that’s probably the largest amount of meat I’ve seen consumed in record time.

The end result was a sinfully delicious sandwich. I devoured my meat and left the bread to the side. Not that the bread wasn’t good, rather the meat was far more worth the calories. Turkey sandwich in the background for comparison. Some opted for melted cheese and the variety of pickles they served on the side was a sweet treat as well.

As we departed we had two interesting encounters. One, a family from Ireland who patiently waited for our table. An interesting conversation exchange over lunch in passing. Upon exit we were greeted by a young women under what appeared to be the influence of heavy drugs. The door attendant made sure she didn’t enter thus we had a little street entertainment. This young lady had her hair (weave) in her hand while she was visibility disheveled, shouting a lot of nonsense and not stringing her words together very well. An interesting and sad sight all at the same time. These two experiences were very different yet minutes apart. I chalk this up to big city life. 

A ride on the subway was next. It was the best method of transportation to the next destination but it did take over an hour and we had a few swaps of trains. The stations are dirty and underground. The rats and other creepy things lurk about. The trains are full of people. Lots of different people. What an experience. I could say so much about the sights, sounds and smells on the big city train but I will really just say it’s an experience everyone should have.

Again I reminisce about my limited commute to my garage each day to get in a car and go a short distance. While some of the folks on the train have to ride for hours, walk, stand, etc. just to get to their job. Thinking about it makes me tired, but that’s their life. I see less obesity on the train than in the suburbs. Is there a correlation to movement? Then we see the headlines on the price of gas: I guess it’s much easier to use the mass transport route during these harder times of dealing with rising gas prices!

My day in the city was full of so much. I can’t write it all down despite doing a series post. I hope many readers get to experience New York City their way one day.

perspective, working women

A Womanly Week

2chicksandapen

It’s been a week for the record books in more ways than one. I wasn’t sure I’d write about the week but then decided it could be valuable to another thus I opted to share away. And keep in mind this is a snapshot in time of a woman in her 50’s. Not her 20’s.

There were fluctuations in body temperatures. It seemed I’d been hot in the middle of the night. Not able to sleep peacefully. Maybe even sweaty at times. Cold during the day. Bundling up as if it was much colder outside than it actually was. Did anyone else suffer these same symptoms in my home? Nope. Did I look crazy? A bit. Was I sick? No. Well there you have it, my irregular cycle appeared. That in itself explains so much yet so little. This is part of my stage of life that is summed up as absolute fuckery.

The angry phase hit more than once this week. The shortness of patience was ever so present. The general irritability was constant. The need for space from people was daily. All of it. Mid life crisis at its best. Emotional roller coaster. High and lows. So much blah. There was push back from some around me. There was silence from others. Neither I’m fond of, but neither is experiencing my loads. Therefore those who don’t walk in my shoes cannot judge me.

Then there are the outlets. I ran some this week. I don’t care so much for running yet running seemed to free my mind from all the excess baggage it had this week. This is mental baggage. Not even the physical baggage associated with bloated in the stomach area or just inflammation in general from the craziness of an irregular cycle. Writing such as this is therapy as well. Settling my thoughts to find some method of the chaos. Whether I publish or not, I write.

Then I read an article about working women. All that a woman is expected to do and bear the title of mom on top of it. Big sigh. Yet nobody refers to a dad as a working dad. Such an irony. Thinking about this on top of everything else at times put me over the edge. Women get the short end of the stick. Balancing work / life / parenting while maintaining a household. Doctor appointments, medicine pick ups, school conferences, and and and.  Many dads go off to work and just focus on a singular task for the day. Women have fireworks going off by the minute in contrast.

Running helped me this week. Going to the gym was a godsend. I might have performed the best I had in a while. Not sure the main reason for that but it was the outlet that was needed for me. Lift heavy shit. Run alone. Life is heavy in this season of life. Many can’t relate to one’s highs and lows thus lifting heavy shit helps me cope. Running on the other hand let’s me breathe the air. Recycle the airflow from within.

All of the above enabling me to deal with the stupidity of others. Giving me patience to watch others make mistakes. Showing grace when I literally want to dope slap somebody. And then there is the big one. Swallowing my pride when others crumble. I want to help many. It can be most difficult to watch one crumble or fold in front of you. It’s hard but sometimes it’s a needed step for others to grow despite it killing you a bit inside.

All while the above was circulating my week, there were also nightmares. Very distressing nightmares specific to immediate family members. Had one come to fruition I would be a basket case. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. However, it was a rude awakening of what could be. Why did I have these flashes and not the ones most directly impacted?

Whatever the reason, I had to feel all of that amidst my sleep which was already erratic. My days became longer. My wakes became harder. My time became less productive. My mind raced all the time. My week was summed up as unsettling.

The good news is I’m still here. I’m refocused to a certain extent. I’m ready for a scenery break to fully reset my mind and body. Don’t ever underestimate the change in surroundings. It’s often said you become what you surround yourself with. Success breeds success. In order to grow or shift out of a funk of any kind you need to pivot. Step away from the ordinary to experience variety.

Make sure you have a slush fund of sorts for your mid life crisis moments. Maybe it’s a new pair of shoes you splurge on. Maybe it’s a weekend away. Maybe it’s a trip of a lifetime. Maybe it’s just a cute pair of earrings you always wanted. Heck you may even want a sexy photo shoot.

Just do it. It’s self care. Therapy. The headaches, heartaches and shit will still be where you left it when you come back. I promise. The shit pile doesn’t go away. The break just helps you look at the shit a little differently. Life is all about perspective.

My perspective sucked most of this week. A little fresh air. Some pampering. Time away from annoying people. Socializing and exercising with people who share my fit lifestyle all helped in my reset. I slept a little sounder last night. I appreciate my life a little more today.

I am that girl working through this mid life crisis mess. Some days are easy. Some are not. Some weeks seem fun. Others seem ever so long. I’m not alone. Many struggle. Many women struggle. I’m writing today to say it’s okay. Whatever stage or phase you are in, you will push through it. It may be bumpy at time but that’s life.

Women are designed to endure.

Women are extremely strong.

Women make the world go round.

I’m convinced.

challenges, family

A Letter to My Daughter

2chicksandapen

She is strong.

She is smart.

She is persistent.

She is determined.

She is generally reserved with her feelings, but on this day, she called filled with frustration. Her new schedule brought unexpected challenges. Things that were once easy were impossibly hard. Huge classes, hard to get around. Too much to take care of, not enough time and energy. All this after the patience and persistence and hard work finally got her to the place she had wanted to be for so long. It had been different at her previous school the year before. She hadn’t expected to be happy there. But now, finally settling in at the school of her dreams, instead of happily ever after, she was met with one annoying plot twist after another.

What’s a mom to do? When you can’t be there? When you can’t just make her dinner or sit with her on the couch? Mostly, I just listened. I let her share how hard things were right now. With classes, with meeting people, with time management. With little things like eating well and parking and taking care of her dog. I gave any advice I could. Mainly, just keep going. Get up and try your best every day. It will get better.

She was calmer when we hung up. But I was shaken. I was sad. I couldn’t sleep well as I was thinking about her.

When I stopped pretending to sleep in the morning, after my workout and getting to work early, I sat outside and wrote her a letter. Page after page poured out. More mom advice and reminding her who she is. That girl I wrote about at the top of this piece. And how she is never alone.

Think of your future self, I told her. What will make your future self proud? In 5 years, will you be happy you kept going and gave it your best or that you gave up when it was hard?

I think about my future self all the time. When I don’t feel like meal prepping for the week, I know my future self will appreciate healthy food so I push through my laziness. Same with setting out my clothes for the next day, going to the gym, and a million other little decisions I make. I do it to make my future self happy, proud, or even just to make her life a little easier. A little planning, a little forethought, and life just goes better.

In a couple of days, things seemed to be a little better. We all have those rough patches. Maybe it’s a day, a week, or even longer. Pick up the phone and share it. Let people listen and help give you a little perspective and wisdom. The people who love you don’t want you to suffer, and definitely not suffer alone. Finally, things have a way of getting better with time. Believe it.