Easy Fun Time

The past few weeks have been killing it big time in Gee world, so much fun and rock and roll sexy stuff that I’m just grooving with exuberance.

Outdoorsy adventure time has been in overdrive, Adventure Girl is not only enthusiastic and meticulous in her planning but she is umm….. me. HOLY COW, seriously peeps Adventure Girl is early for everything, will travel miles/ hours for fun, has the perfect gear (in pink or purple), enjoys a map, a pumpkin ale, lobster and kicking ass on the trail.  She will also spend hours/ days on researching then change her mind 8 times until she pulls the cord, hate to admit it but … that’s me too. We are kicking our friendship into overdrive with a sleepover later this week so that we can hit Storm King Mountain at the break of day then the following weekend we are attending a yoga/ hiking weekend at the Mohican AMC lodge.  Yep, I am fully entrenched in my woodsy adventures, so much so that you can add “sleeping bag” and “trekking poles” to the list of things that UPS dropped off this week.

Now onto the sexy, cause why the hell not. Match and OkCupid are a mess, I log in daily just so my

account stays active but there is NOTHING that I want out there. When I last wrote there were two guys that were maybe meet ups however neither of them ever got in touch, whatever.  But what did happen was a nice little drunken hook up with a uber charming gent at a random pop up local food / beer place in Queens – yeah I didn’t see that one coming either. “Friday” is undatable (unemployed & homeless) BUT he is brilliant, cultured, a great dresser, pays the check, holds doors open and just wants to have FUN. Good lord YES – FUN. Seems like years since I could find a guy who was just down with the F word (and that other F word… word). He’s so not my type, but I’m learning that maybe I don’t have a type, well except for being unemployed, that is SO my type but Friday likes cheese and wine and oh he went to my High School – what? Yep, fer realz. So we hung out twice, had a ton of laughs, a heap of sexy time and if I see him again, cool, if not it was fun and easy, and that’s what I’ve wanted for a LONG time.

I Got The Power

Since last post I’ve enjoyed two Appalachian Mountain Club outings (it should have been 3, but I’ll get to that), I bought a bike and I got back into the game with TWO online dates.

My AMC weekend at Fire Island was joyful, inspiring and just a good old kick ass time with a bunch of people who DO stuff. There were a dozen adventurers however these people were SO active I felt like a lazy nub in a swamp, good thing I at least had my recent 10k victory to add to the accomplishments pile cause otherwise I would have been low lady on the amazing persons totem pole. By the end of the weekend I gained a few more friends, was not presented with ONE summons for the various and innumerable misdemeanors I committed and I also had some bad ass raw inner thumbs from killing it like an Olympic rower in the kayak.

Next up was my first AMC hike in Harriman, it was a gloomy gray day but warm so I pulled on my hiking skirt, deet-ed up and headed on out with great expectations of meeting another set of powerful happy people. Well let’s just say THIS group of AMCers were a little too over confident in their athletic abilities to handle a such a hike and MUCH too underprepared to remain jolly – oh well they all can’t be winners. BUT I did get to flirt with the burly bartender/ outdoorsman group leader for 6 hours and I made a new outdoorsy friend who, like me, is an overachieving newbee wanna do everything action girl.

After the hike I contacted both Mr. Leader and Action Girl, guess which one wanted to see more of me? Yeah, Mr. Leader… not so much. Anyways Action Girl invited me on a 25 mile bike ride along the Old Croton Aqueduct on Oct. 27^th to which I instinctively typed “YES I will do that!” then immediately bought a bike, bike tights, gloves, helmet, jacket, etc… and started riding. Those of you who KNOW me know that all I need is the suggestion of an action for me to get on board and DO it. One of my other AMC palls responded to my admission of being susceptible to gentle suggestion with, “I’ll invite you on a horseback riding and homemade whiskey hike, you'll need a horse, waspy gear and a peat bog!” Damn my kitchen is gonna be tight with my bike AND a pony.

The two internet dates/ meetings were not even worth my lip gloss application. Both men fell head over heels in LUST for me the moment my gams crossed the room. One thought it best to lead with talk of his penis girth while the other just threw caution to the wind and thrust his hand up my skirt and into my crotch. His explanation, he likes to “live in the moment” oh and I was so hot he couldn’t help himself. Now that’s a way to romance a lady. Penis Girth really sealed the deal when he took a call from his mother while I was in the WC so when I returned I was present for his profanity filled regret to his Mother’s invitation to Thanksgiving dinner. I love a man who screams at his mother at a bar – HOT! After hanging up he paused and asked, “So I guess my chances of making out with you right now are kinda low, right?”

There is hope on the horizon, as there always is in my Pollyanna sunshine filled optimistic world, Melba has a cute co-worker buddy (black hair/ blue eyes… yummmm) that she is trying to convince to call me – unfortunately my Facebook awesomeness has less than inspired him to reach out. I gotta start posting photos of me enjoying a chocolate shake and cheeseburger on my couch… not so daunting. AND one of my Mom’s yenta friends has given my number to a local newly divorced friend of the family in hopes that she scores a match, she has done this before with no result, but maybe this time……

Back to my not a hike yesterday. After gearing up and arriving at Port Authority 45 minutes before

my scheduled bus departure I somehow never boarded a bus. Yep me and a troupe of 3 others waited and waited and then waited some more for the 8:15am to Nyack but it never showed. Of course Adventure Girl was waiting for me in Nyack but even after I explained that NOBODY got on the bus I think she assumed I was a numb nut and began to second guess our burgeoning friendship. Proof of my ding-a-ling status, last night she sent me an email with detailed instructions regarding how to access Grand Central Terminal along with the train schedule and an offer to help in any way she can if I have trouble with navigating the train system. GOOD LORD how did I mess this up? I AM THE TRANSIT QUEEN! Damn I am gonna have to be a super star on Sunday. Maybe I should bake cookies?

 

 

Warm Sweet Goodness

There are no words to describe the amount of happy good vibes that I received Sunday (and along the 2 month journey) for my FIRST 10k. It’s difficult to explain the reason why this was such a big deal, because there are so many reasons. Many have to do with my body and finally being able to actually DO the things that I always knew I could do but for my undiagnosed genetic disorder I just couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried. Then after going through the weight loss and feeling stronger I was sidelined in 2012 by the three leg operations and lengthy recuperation time which further delayed my opportunity to let this body FLY. Now I’m feeling spectacular, I want to do everything and it is all so new and wonderful that it bursts my heart and my head just thinking about all the things I can– or try - to do.

 

Swason lead me to victory on Sunday with her commanding athletic spirit, her empathetic guidance and her perfectly timed words of powerful encouragement. As we stood shoulder to shoulder in the pack of 1,987 runners awaiting the starter’s pistol Swason and I discussed our pace and agreed that we would stick together if we could, but no worries if we split up.

 

Bang – we were off.

 

I was scared and anxious, I’ve been running this distance for a few weeks but it felt so different. The cement was hard, I missed my last potty pit stop and all these runners looked so strong and elegant. But Swason stayed with me, even though I didn’t turn my head to see her, I knew she was there.

 

I usually jog easily until about 4.5 miles however as I reached mile 2 my right calf began to cramp. As the pain increased I thought I would “run it out” until the turn around at 3.1 but the pain quickly spread through my right hip up to my shoulder then down to my foot. I tried to ignore it, I tried to focus on the traffic lights 6 blocks away, I tried to think of all of you cheering me on and Susan gliding easily over my left shoulder but when my right foot began to burn then go numb the fear of a thrombosis rupturing in my right leg finally convinced my body to stop.

Swason stuck with me as I felt the heavy pressure to complete the full 6.2 miles well up inside. She slowly and calmly led me through a series of stretches as I explained my symptoms. This was an entirely new side of Swason that I never experienced, she was the composed all knowing expert and I was the novice seeking her help. If I wasn’t so focused on relieving the pain and quieting my inner angel of death screaming “YOU ARE GOING TO DIE” I would have hugged all the air out of her – but I don’t think dominators do that, so I didn’t.

 

After the stretching Swason instructed me to walk for 1/10 mile then reassess my pain. I took off at my speed walking pace and moved to the center of the street instead of the right gutter where I had been jogging previously so I wouldn’t interfere with the “real” runners.  After making these adjustments I was free of pain and back at my cruising jog– ya know why? Cause I wasn’t running in the right gutter! Full on rookie move…ughhhh. Yeah, so when the street slopes to the side and there are big metal grates over the storm drains ya don’t wanna run there – lesson learned.

 

At mile 3.1 Swason took the lead at the turn around calling over her shoulder, “It’s shorter on the way back.” I knew mathematically that couldn’t be correct but Swason is the harbinger of truth and a marathon trainee so I accepted her words wholeheartedly as my smile grew wide and my feet welcomed the forgiving softer asphalt of the return trail.

Mile 4 my ear buds revolted, silencing my music and my GPS lady who tells me I'm a running superstar every ½ mile. I tucked the useless cord and buds into my sports bra and tried not to focus on my echoing heavy breathing and the unknown distance ahead.

4.5 miles and I hit my wall, as per always. I felt heavy and slow. Swason had pulled ahead and if I had any extra breath I would have called out to her …. just go…. leave me here…. I’ll be ok. But as my head screamed out to Swason in silence she turned as if sensing my psychic cry and yelled out “Only one and a half miles!” Swason's  words were perfectly timed, she didn’t have to say “You can do it” because I knew she was certain I had the power to conquer the next 1.5 miles and then I thought of T-bone’s beads on my laces that spelled out “Glew” “Strong” and I pumped my arms and pushed my legs.

Swason remained a few steps ahead, guiding me closer to 6.2 miles. When the 6 mile marker sign came into view my emotions erupted, stunting my lungs and clamping my throat shut. I gasped twice finding no air then I focused on the back of Swanson’s left shoulder, her gate was relaxed and steady, I wanted to feel that. My lungs loosened and I was back in the game just in time for a recreational runner, who was heading towards me in the opposite lane, to give me a massive high five as he yelled out, “You’re almost there!”

Swason and I crossed the finish line at 1:12:13 just as we began, shoulder to shoulder with broad smiles and laughter (me with tears). The announcer sang out our names like a European football announcer calls GOAL-A GOAL-A GOAL-A as my mom eagerly rang a cowbell, tooted a duck call and held a sign exclaiming Swason's and my awesomeness. We were awesome… we are awesome and so was my mom with her generous spirit, unending support and superior effervescent cheer leading.

10K Sunday ended with a celebration French Toast brunch attended by Mom and…. Sweets. Yes Sweets and I didn’t work as dating partners, and yes things were said and done that filled my head with crap but we are working really well as friends.  Sweets has always been a champion of my physical achievements and while dating not only did he introduce me to scores of new activities while never doubting my ability to conquer challenges but he named my gams “Adventure Legs”. Sweets also was the first to tell me that my strength and power were worthy of a 10K and supported me wholeheartedly throughout my training. Sweets understood what Sunday meant to me, it wasn’t JUST running 6.2 miles, it was bigger than that, it was the sum of all the parts.  Sweets and I never unpacked our emotions and shared our lives, but somehow he got it, he got that this 10K was bigger than a race and it was wonderful that he desired to share in the glory of my big day and eat my leftover bacon and french toast.

Redemption Run

I’ve borrowed my title from Swason’s running blog, recently she found redemption in a glorious run following a spirit breaking unsuccessful workout and I this morning was redeemed by my run after being bogged down in un-dating gunk.

I fell in love this morning with my city, my spirit and my body. The moon was electric before dawn; its startling white light pierced my heavy drapes welcoming me to the day at 4:45am. I stretched and prepped and hoped that 56 degrees would not feel SO shockingly awful.

When I pranced down my bock in the cover of early morning darkness I felt like an authentic competitor, a true athlete and I filled with pride at the strength of my legs and lungs. I headed west a few blocks as the black sky morphed into deep purple and the moon turned a creamy ecru. Once again I switched direction and now facing east I could see the dawn breaking ever so softly as my muscles warmed and my feet sprang forward.

  

Mid run I circle around two ‘garden’ blocks flanked with tidy post war brick homes. The streets are desolate in the early hours allowing me the opportunity to run on the forgiving asphalt through a tunnel of giant leafy trees. I circle 4 times in my private urban forest glen until the sky bursts with color and I take off due west.

My city was decked out for me this morning; she glistened in golds and pinks. Her skyline was shimmering as the moon, my moon, posed like a giant pink grapefruit directly behind the Empire State Building’s spire and the silvery elevated train slide by reflecting the amber of the warming sun setting it aglow like a mechanical comet across my most beautiful city scape.

I ran fast, faster than I ever had at this distance, it was all good, everything was fitting.

My final push is up a hill, an arduous task that covers ½ mile and reduces my pace to a fast

walk, but T-bone said it's good to run hills so I do it. I thought of my first run just weeks ago when the Greek Yaya cheered me on as I melted into the sidewalk and the LL Cool J celebrity double who flashed me the brightest smile, tossed me a thumbs up and shouted “YES”, the super in the building next door who after every run welcomes me to my block like I was a victorious Olympian, and then I thought of you, all of you. All of you who have cheered, supported, and offered up most wonderful advice. I thought of all the emails and texts I’ve received with words of encouragement and confessions of wanting to get back to doing ‘something’ and feeling inspired by my enthusiasm. I thought of all that good stuff and I choked up, as I’m doing now as I type this. My throat tightened and my lunges seized as the happy tears filled my eyes and gratitude filled my soul. From my dearest friends to strangers on the street you ALL want me to succeed and I thought….. why the HELL do I care about these idiotic strangers on these maddening dating sites? I have so many wonderful people in my life who can make my heart burst with happiness just by the mere thought of them. Red was right, I need to pause the internet man search.  I do not deserve to feel dejected and heartsick because of these mysterious non-existent men, I have to get off the dating sites and just live for a moment. I do feel that if I’m not looking for my datee then the parade will pass me by but the alternative is too destructive, I’m too strong and powerful for this nonsense – I'M A RUNNER!

At mile 5.5 with my new non-dating plan tucked into my silky running shorts I swallowed back my tears and thought WWSD (what would Swason do) well she would say, “G if you die of a happy tears induced asthma attack I will kick you in the face.” BTW -Swason has repeatedly threatened me with this remedy over the years regarding a diverse set of problems and it’s always worked. So I did it, 6.3 miles at my best pace ever and you all were there with me – redemption is MINE!

All Good Things

The past ten days have been an amalgamation of fun surprises, reunions (both planned and otherwise), fantastic accomplishments, laughs and an abundance of good juicy stuff.

Since I last wrote I competed in my first organized group 5k. It was strange and emotional but I’m glad I did it, mostly just to know that I CAN do it. The most difficult part of the race was the start. I wasn’t expecting the chaos of runners jostling for position as well as packs of small children sprinting around in circles like wild rabid dogs. It was very distracting and not at all the relaxing mind numbing cruise of my solitary runs. However once I got into my groove I settled in and relied on a women 40 yards ahead with a swinging ponytail to lull me into a steady pace. 

The miles clicked off and soon I was turning the final corner of the course with the Finish Line glimmering just yards away. Wearily I entered into a pocket of empty space that traversed a tree lined canyon vibrating with the cheering fist pumping fast runners whom after completing the race focused their excess energy on encouraging the remaining pack.  As their wave of intense support pummeled my chest my throat tightened and my tears welled up, they were ALL cheering for me! As I stemmed my emotional  tidal-wave of gratitude a man about my age, tall and trim stepped off the curb, pointed to the finish line and shouted “That’s YOUR finish line, you OWN IT! You TAKE THAT FINISH LINE!” then he applauded so hard that I thought his palms would explode. My fire burned as my engine ignited and I felt my body fly weightlessly over the pavement as I TOOK my finish line with strength and power.

The same weekend I accomplished another feat of strength, but this was more emotional and mental… or so I thought it would be. As I mentioned in my last post I bought a two piece bathing ‘thing’ to wear when I paddle board but I was feeling so confident and strong on Saturday (after running 5 miles on Friday) that I popped it on, hopped aboard my Mom’s beach cruiser and took off for a 12 mile bike ride with a pit stop at Sag Main Beach. Before leaving the house with my pasty white wrinkly tummy all “out there” I needed just a little reinforcement so I snapped a bathroom mirror selfie and sent it off to Red informing her that  I was about to do something that I never dreamed I could do. I wasn’t fishing for compliments, what I needed was a bit of understanding and Red was right on target. She wished me luck, congratulated me on my bravery and sent me off on my adventure through the most expensive zip code in the USA, which of course is chock-a-block with ‘perfect’ looking women in their finniest and skimpiest haute couture après beach, golf, tennis, riding attire, etc... 

I thought I would have feelings of doubt or at least feel defeated when 'side eyed' by the fancy ladies, but I didn't, I didn’t feel any of that (nor did I receive any smirking). What I felt was freedom and power l as I peddled south of the highway with the sun and wind tickling my bare skin, skin that’s been denied these sensations since I graduated from rubber swimming bloomers . I oozed with happiness as my inner voice announced to the vines heavy with wine grapes, the corn fields as high as an elephant's eye and the 20 million dollar family compounds,  "I LOVE my strong body, this tremendous body that can run 5 miles (as of today 6.01 miles)  and do so many other fantastic things!!"

I cruised down to the beach in full Gee Sparkle mode where not only did I spread my towel and sun my middle but I also confidently strode down to the sea and owned that ocean as I broke through the waves and swam like an unchained mermaid.

Be The Inspiration

Now that my body is 2.5 years into its transformation I’m experiencing a new change. Once diagnosed with Hashimoto's the weight loss was shockingly fast, now after a year of a consistent body weight I feel my strength and stamina increasing in leaps and bounds.

My body amazes me, it’s this wondrous machine that constantly morphs and fills me with awe and amazement. Sure last year my body decided to fall apart and send me into an emotional spiral of anxiety and depression, that was ‘wondrous’ too, but more like a – what the fuck is going on with you – wondrous. Now I’m pushing hard and getting stronger and much to my enjoyment discovering inspiration from an endless fountain of awesomeness - and that fresh spring of power is ME!

Several weeks ago while plowing through my Tuesday spinning class I approached my scheduled breaking point…the body wrecking hill climb. For months I visualized Swason powering through her marathon training or Sweets calling out to me “Just a little further, you are so strong!” to pump a droplet of inspiration into my melting body but that day I did not call upon my virtual cheerleaders, that day I thought, “My legs are amazing, they are strong, and not only CAN I do this, but I have done it and I am AWESOME!” That day I became my own inspiration, my body, my soul, my tenacity is what inspired me, and continues to keep my adventure legs pushing stronger and further.

I try to remember how remarkable my powerful body is especially when my eyes fall to the areas of my skin that are scarred from the previous 40 years of body noncompliance. It sucks, and I don’t want to hate my body (I never did when I was larger), but I do have feelings of being cheated by biochemistry. Sure I could pay thousands of dollars for plastic surgery to remove the sagging elephant skin on my legs and tummy (I have stopped looking at my butt, I just like to assume it is juicy and full), but really shouldn’t I get my stupid dead tooth fixed first? Or maybe I should use that cash (that I don’t have) for something fun like a trip to Bali… ya see how that wrinkly skin doesn’t seem so bad anymore… ahhhh Bali.

Recently when a wave of body ughhhhh wafted over me I immediately signed up for a beginners stand up paddle board class and I killed it! I flew past those perfectly flawless skinned chicks and was the prized pupil, garnering praise from the instructor as well as my co-paddlers. My body does things, strong things, difficult things, and I know for certain that one hour of stand up paddle boarding is far superior to one saggy wrinkled tummy. Continuing on my strong body love-fest I did something last week that I have NEVER done before, I purchased a two piece athletic “bathing costume” (feels weird calling it a bathing suit). Even though my middle parts have not felt the warmth of direct sun since the age of 3 I decided to do it – buy an athletic sports bra swimming top and a cute pair of swimmy shorts so that my next venture out on the rental board will be a triumph for both my body and my head – crap I’m gonna need some SPF 70.