So ya know how like when you skip lunch then you get so hungry that you want to eat your face so you blow up GrubHub ordering a poo-poo platter of nine separate delivery options then gorge for 6 minutes until you realize that you should have JUST eaten lunch and avoided this overload of emptiness , well that’s how I feel about not blogging since February.

I have a billion things I want to share with you about my break from internet dating, my hunt to buy an apartment, my  (x) co-worker putting a hit out on my ass, and my surprise super nice guy ‘thing’ that grew out of that Autumnal drunken hook up, but unfortunately it’s all so overwhelming and I’ll never get through it all sooooo… let’s just do bullet points.

• Red told me to STOP internet dating – so I did. Boom. Red like Swason is always right, do not ignore their advice.
• Faced with my imminent doom of dying alone and broke without savings or family my Mother offered financial help towards an apartment purchase. It was either that or have me sob inessentially on her foyer rug as I downward spiraled into a black funk bucket of realities that I did not want to face. Even though it was a cold harsh winter my mother realized that she would need to exit the house at some point and my limp sobbing body curled up in fetal position on her threshold would really harsh her lifestyle.  HOUSE HUNT ON!
• Mafia Wife Co-Worker’s crazy ratio hit 100 parts per 100 and was fired, wait there’s more – somehow I am a liar and a fraud (yep fraud) so I must pay for her dismissal. Google search term “Harassment”.
• Friday, my drunken one nighter has become my drunken 220 nighter. It’s fun and easy, the communication is open, we eat and drink yummy things, and we laugh. Now if I can make it through August without him dumping my ass I will break the curse that has hounded me the past TWO Augusts. I do have my doubts that I will make it to Labor Day with Friday still listed as a “favorite” in my contacts only for the fact that he JUST began his full time gig last week and ya know how the guys get with me – once they get that job – they are OUT!

Now that we are all caught up you can look forward to posts about bathroom tile, random financially motivated anxiety attacks, paint colors and cheese. In a perfect world there is always cheese. 

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!

Start putting it together...

5 Weeks into internet dating 2013 and it’s dismal. 30 + emails, winks and likes sent = ONE response from a man who after 2 emails declined my offer of a drink because I am a self-proclaimed happy morning person and he is not. Ok good to know your limits dude. I’ve accepted 3 dates, all of which have not come to fruition. The first date I canceled was for a cup of coffee (really men, coffee?) after the best café the guy could choose was the Grand Central Terminal Starbucks and he texted me an unsolicited naked bathroom mirror shot – good to know MY limits. The second date I canceled was due to an unsolicited phone call two days prior to drinks date when the guy lectured me for 15 min. about all the things HE loves to do that I will love to do with him because he just TOLD me that I love to do those things – things like attending an all night movie marathon followed by eating chicken and waffles at 1am then staying in bed for a day to sleep it off - and no. The last date I accepted was ummmm…. ignored. HEY I know this trick, invite me out then when I accept disappear and forget that you invited me, wow that sounds like my last relationship – FUN!

The thing that is killing me is that I am at the best place in my life, I’m happy and healthy and so energized to do stuff and I cannot for the life of me find a man who wants to DO anything with me,  it’s driving me bonkers. I’m not shy or introverted, I dress well, my hair ROCKS, My curves are kicking (and these new adventure legs are HOT), I smell good and I have a TON of interesting stories/ hobbies/ interests and guys really like me … once I get out in front of them, and there is my problem, there are NO men in my world for me to WOW. So new plan….

A vision's just a vision
If it's only in your head.
If no one gets to see it,
It's as good as dead.
It has to come to light!

I’m joining groups, groups that DO stuff, mostly outdoorsy hiking camping groups cause I like to that AND guys like to do that so that will get me some face time with at least ONE man (I hope) and then that guy may know a guy and so on and so on and so on.

Bit by bit,
Putting it together...
Piece by Piece

The Tuesday after Labor Day I signed up for MeetUp.com – never heard of it but it seems like it could work. I chose about a half dozen NYC meet up groups that do stuff from Stand Up Paddle boarding to portable bicycling (bicycles supplied) to hiking and just hanging out at beer gardens… yumm beer. Also on Tuesday I signed up for my FIRST  10K! With Swason on board to be my jogging mate (as long as her little sister doesn’t go into labor 1 day early) I’m sure it will be an early morning filled with celebration and tears of joy.

Every moment makes a contribution,
Every little detail plays a part.
Having just a vision's no solution,
Everything depends on execution:
Putting it together- That's what counts!

By Wednesday I was attending an open house for The AppalachianMountain Club (AMC) where I was so enthused by the prospect of DOING things I plunked down my Visa card and signed on the line. I am now a card carrying member of the AMC and will attend my first event the weekend after my 10K. Of course now that I’m an official member of a mountain club I need stuff, like boots and socks so  - ORDER IN! However as my first foray into the AMC world I thought I should go with something I know so I signed up for the Fire Island English Pub Weekend at the AMC beach house, duh beer, sand and ocean … no brainer. Fingers crossed I won’t be dorming with a bunch of gray haired hippies and even if I am maybe they have a single corporate money making “black sheep” son/ nephew/ x-husband whom they wanna pawn off on me.

Having just a vision's no solution,
Everything depends on execution.
The art of making LIFE
Is putting it together
Bit by bit...

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.

Not So Really Real

In the past I sang Swason’s praises for her fierce grasp of reality and her unwavering commitment to telling me the truth, however that woman is a black and white cookie of cerebral dichotomy because she is also the BESTEST pal for engaging in, and collaborating with, my super reality or as some may call it – fantasy world. 

Our adjusted realities stem from the fact that we both still harbor a bit of our 12 year old pink sparkly sticker collecting/ friendship bracelet making girl just under our savvy city lady outer shell (sorry Swason if I am writing out of turn, however I believe you will agree with me here) and when we unite in a dork-fest fueled with wine (or not) we quickly break through our jaded all-knowing logical crust and delight in our combined powers of modified universe creation

Swason is currently indulging my revised reality that I’m only one call away from Lufthansa ‘s reservations desk to becoming a trophy wife of an international banker stationed in Zurich. There I am sipping red wine and feasting on exotic cheeses while peacefully lounging on the deck of my Alpine chalet as I spend my lazy days transferring my harmonica virtuosity for that of the alpenhorn. I won’t share Swason’s ‘reality’ with my readers but suffice to say that not only do I need to purchase a parka for my mountain top hideaway, Swason has informed me to start shopping for cowboy boots because her Texan wedding is gonna ROCK it! 

Best and Worst

Over the course of three days I experienced the BEST first date and the WORST first date. As I previously stated Mr. Woods was certainly my best first date ever, he was a gentleman with just the right about amount of raunch, mmmmmm I’m still glowing from that raunch. However Thursday’s mystery date was the absolute opposite of Mr. Woods’ cool sassy charming ways – this guy was insanely inappropriate, rude, delusional, socially inept, and a clueless mess.

I didn’t have high hopes for Clueless prior to the date but I thought he would be at least fun, in a loose cannon kind of way. His pre date emails were entertaining IF at sometimes a little on the inappropriate side. I cut him slack, chalking it up to his age (35) and the habit some guys have of being overly familiar via email. However after he informed me of his venue of choice for our rendezvous I seriously began to realize, Oh crap….. this is gonna be a mess. 

The venue was a bridge and tunnel bar known for “kids” binge drinking water downed cocktails or entry level mass market beer. As Swason said, it’s that bar you go to after you closed down at least 3 other bars and you are so drunk that you have lost all respect for yourself as an adult. I gently informed Clueless that the venue wasn’t “my scene”, omitting the fact that since I didn’t own a pair of sweat pants and Uggs I would feel inappropriately dressed for such an establishment. Clueless was offended at my judgment and scoffed at the 5 other bars that I suggested, he even went as far to tell me that he wasn’t going to take me out to drinks at all since I was so ‘uppity’. Yet again it’s hard to tell over email if he was crazy or LOL JK! :P so when he came back with a new venue option on the UES I agreed to meet him.

I arrived first (of course) and took a seat at the end of the bar. The place was cute however it was still chock full of the 24 year old set that frequents the bars along 2^nd Ave. Clueless arrived moments after I sat down and stood next to me….and that was it. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t look at me, he just motioned to the bartender, ordered a Budweiser and started sipping. I think he thought he was being ‘cool’ and ‘mysterious’ but it was just ridiculous, so much so that I started to laugh at him. He shot me a look and stayed silent, so really there was only one thing for me to do, I motioned to the bartender and ordered a $14 cocktail on Clueless’s tab. I tried to make small talk, asking him questions but he pulled out his phone and started texting. It was the strangest thing ever. It was fully hysterical cause I am convinced that this guy thought he was flirting or playing hard to get, …something. 

 

But as he silently typed it gave me the opportunity to give him the full Gee Scan – bottom to top – Black sneakers, light blue baggy jeans, over-sized untucked wrinkled chambray shirt and a black KNIT TIE!!!! This guy was rocking the denim and denim with a knit tie circa 1985 hanging loosely around his neck with the top three buttons undone on his shirt. It was tragically fantastic, oh and his wrist was bursting with macramé friendship bracelets.

Eight minutes into the date, I had finished my drink in 4 sips and asked, “So you wanna call this done?” Clueless replied, “Nah I’m drinking my beer.” and went back to his phone. I continued to pry, “Do you want to engage me in conversation as people do in social situations?” Clueless, still truly believing he was being charming and aloof retorted, “No, I got nothing to say to you.”  I smiled, grabbed my bag and excused myself to the bathroom where I fired off a facebook status and a text to Swason. I contemplated just walking straight out of the bar but then I realized, fuck he may be the kind of guy who is “packing” (and not in a good way) and I don’t need to be chased down  2^nd avenue by Mr. Texas Tuxedo 2012, I do have my swank reputation to uphold. I returned to the bar as Clueless was closing out the tab, I did a fly by, shot him a quick head nod with an “I’m out.” He followed behind me as I said over my shoulder, “Sometimes you win ‘em, sometimes you lose, it’s a roll of the dice.” and I took off to Lexington Ave. as Swason and I made plans for a massive red wine-fest back in Astoria.

 

As I changed my shoes on the street and laughed about the events of the past 12 minutes Clueless was blowing up my phone with texts, which of course I did not answer, crap I didn’t even open them. Unfortunately Clueless continued the text barrage today nonstop until I engaged the services of AT&T and they dropped the block on his crazy ass, oh Clueless…. you are aptly named.

Breaking All the Rules

As I get older I find that I am way more susceptible to the power of others’ “suggestions”. Mostly these are all very good suggestions, take for example Jesus telling me “You need to buy a bigger bed” or Swason instructing, “You would be an idiot if you DIDN’T buy that Ralph Lauren Olympic Jacket” and then last night… let’s just say the power of suggestion really did me a solid.

Last evening I had my first of THREE blind dates scheduled for this week. I don’t think any of these gents are relationship material however I’m rather sure I am not looking for a relationship at this time SO…. It’s all good. 

Mr. Tuesday (AKA Mr. Woods) was handsome and charming, he was on time and most importantly he was not a MESS! Seriously it’s been so long since I had a date that didn’t include a drink landing in my lap, a profuse face sweater, a social misfit, etc., etc… that this guy totally blew me away. Sure he has short comings but they are minuscule when it comes to all the other plusses. CRAP he even picked up the check without flinching – very unlike the Investment Banker Brit who took me out for a $9.00 brunch then harassed the waiter when he informed Cheap-o that “Sausage is an extra $1.50.” Cheap-o actually asked the waiter how MANY sausages he would get for $1.50, since he felt this was an exorbitant price to pay for breakfast pork since in Brittan you NEVER pay extra for anything …..hmmmm that’s questionable. 

But I digress, back to last night. After hours of bar side chatting and drinking with Mr. Woods there came that moment when decisions must be made – it’s either THIS or it’s THAT. My head was so THIS, totally THIS, no doubt I am fully THIS. There were so many rational reasons why THIS was the correct choice BUT damn that power of suggestion. Somehow even Mr. Woods sensed that I could be easily swayed to THAT with just a gentle nudge, cause really who doesn’t like a little of THAT.

I ended up tossing all of THIS out the window and extending my evening way past my bed time with a whole lot of THAT going on.  And DAMN, THAT was super fun.