My thought on week 6 of Couch to 5k.
My thought on week 6 of Couch to 5k.
Rufus, the bear cub with alcoholic tendencies, and I propose a toast! To warm weather, sunshine and tropical beverages!
In early March, when I was in the depths of a shingles and robotussin induced haze, I took an ill-fated jaunt outside to fetch myself some orange juice. When I returned from my trip, I had lost my wallet. I feared it was lost forever, but today it returned home from an incredible journey. Here is what I think it saw while it was gone:
1. Amelia Earhart
2. All my right socks
3. Bigfoot (note: did HE have my socks?)
4. The Cooler Ranch Doritos Taco
5. The Holy Grail ( note: Is this redundant with number 4?)
6. The fabled lost city, Atlantis
7. The resort and casino, Atlantis
8. The Heart of the Ocean necklace
9. Oz the Great and Powerful (note: I wonder if it liked it? Movie did get mixed reviews…)
10. A few pigeons and a lot of garbage (it did come back to NYC after all)
A good Samaritan just returned my wallet with all of its contents still inside. My faith in people has been renewed, along with my drivers license. Big thanks to a nice lady named Carmen for saving me a trip to the DMV and returning a fine leather good back to its mama.
I am currently on week 5 of my “Couch to 5K” program. “Couch to 5K” is for lazy bones like myself who saw Hunger Games, realized that they would die two seconds in, and decided to make some life changes. And as learning how to shoot an arrow at a squirrel seemed like it would be frowned upon in Manhattan, I decided to try my hand (foot?) at running. I had a lot of ideas about what it would be like. Most of them were wrong.
Marni’s World: “I’m a young woman in relatively good health, this should be a breeze.”
Real World: Who knew running was so damn hard? Or that I would find myself being outpaced by old ladies with corgis? Or that my thighs would be constantly sore? Running is hard.
I have a new found respect for the joggers who I used to judge from my comfortable picnic blanket. Next time, I’ll be sure to raise my solo cup of twist-cap wine to those brave soldiers! You go, runners, you go!
Marni’s World: “These old Forever 21 shorts are perfect for running.”
Real World: Turns out that you should always ensure that the elasticity of your running pants have not been compromised by age and thousands of trips through the washing machine before you head out on a jaunt. This will help you avoid the possibility of showing your butt to the entire West Side Highway.
Marni’s World: “Waking up early for a jog will be invigorating!”
Real World: Jogging in the morning means I’m tired all day because my body just did more exercise before 8 am than it did in all of 2010 and 2011 combined. And, unlike when I come home from an evening run and get to lay very very still on the couch, I have to be a productive member of Manhattan’s workforce. Woof.
Marni’s World: “These 8 weeks will pretty much just be a movie montage of me wearing cute terry cloth headbands and running as Eye of the Tiger plays!”
Real World: Unfortunately I have still not been granted my wish of being able to montage through boring and difficult life phases. And even if I was able to montage it, it’d be more a montage of me sweating and panting as Baby Beluga plays.
Welp, only 3 weeks to go! (or 9 weeks if I “want to do 10k”, which I don’t. ever)
I love this iced coffee. I love not wearing a coat. I love my spring dress. I love the sunshine. I love the light breeze. I love the blue skies. I love this song. I love this other song too. I love that corgi over there. I love these daffodils over here. I love Washington Square Park. I love the weirdos on that bench. I love New York. I love you. I love everyone.
Did I mention I love my iced coffee?
The first really nice day of spring turns me into Pollyanna and makes me temporarily forget all the things I hate . Except winter. I effing hate winter.
I am finally on the mend after a nasty and unsightly bout of shingles.
During the depths of my shingledom, I did some in-depth WebMD research and found that most people get shingles in their 60s. As I am in my twenties, I thought this was a bit odd. Why did the virus assume I was a senior citizen? Could it be:
1. My consumption of television programs such as Jeopardy!, 60 Minutes, and Downton Abbey?
2. The fact that I call dubstup music “horrible noise?”
3. My extremely poor eyesight?
4. My bad back?
5. The thrill I get when I get an notification from the New York Public Library?
6. My frequent NPR listening?
7. My excellent collection of cardigans?
8. My “comfortable” heels?
9. My love of the film It’s Complicated ?
10. My excitement over new yogurt flavors?
11. All of the above?
Apparently you can trigger shingles from a lot of things besides just being/acting old. Like lack of sleep for instance. So, maybe that time I went to bed on a weeknight after 11pm could be to blame.
Passover is all about religiously avoiding delicious, tempting carbohydrates. So, remind me again…how is this night different from all other nights?
A mystery illness is preventing me from spending Passover with my family, but I hope everyone has a happy, macaroon-filled Pesach!
Hey, so we need to talk.
Remember in late November, when we first got together? It was so nice and cozy, you with your charming light snow falls and crisp, sunny days, and me with my new sweaters and attractive earmuffs. The holidays were coming, and being bundled up with a cup of mulled wine just felt right. We didn’t care that the days were shorter, for every night there was a party of some sorts, with plenty of latkes and gingerbread cookies all around. It was a wonderland.
Then it was January, and we were filled with excitement for the new year. All the things we would do, you and I! We’d loose 15 lbs and learn Portuguese! It was going to be great, we had the whole year ahead of us.
But somewhere around February, things got sour. On Valentine’s day, you greeted me with freezing rain. Certainly wasn’t a box of chocolates, now was it? But things didn’t get any better from there. There were fewer crisp sunny winter days and more grey skies, more slush, more cold winds, so many runny noses. I lost a mitten and I think somewhere along the way, we lost track of each other. And you never did learn Portuguese after all.
And now that its March, I think, well, I think we need a break. Today it’s snowing. Tonight it will be sleeting. And far from being cozy, that’s just downright cruel.
This just isn’t working for me anymore and I think this relationship has run its course. In fact, I would even go as far to say that you’ve outstayed your welcome.
I would say it’s not you, but of course it is. You’re dark and you’re cold! I need someone a bit warmer, someone who will lighten things up a bit ‘round here.
Maybe we can try again in 8 months or so, but for now…get the hell out of my life.
I am so over winter. Where is Spring?!
1. Sea Salt Caramels. Um, what was humanity doing for the last 2,000 plus years if not putting sea salt in caramel? Like why is this new thing? It’s so delicious that I’m just kind of mad at everyone for not inventing it sooner. I blame it all on Jacques Costeau. Dude was supposed to know everything about the ocean, but he never told us about sea salt caramels. He didn’t know ANYTHING.
2. Cadbury Mini Eggs: What’s with all the seasonal displays of Easter candy with Peeps and Cadbury Creme Eggs and jelly beans but no Cadbury Mini Eggs? I see people with Cabdury Mini Eggs but nary my grocery store nor the six Duane Reades I pass on my way home have them. Gosh golly gee damn it, where are all the effin’ Cadbury Mini Eggs?! Who is responsible for this gross miscarriage of justice?
3. Green Sour Patch Kids and Yellow Starbursts: Why do they even make these? Who is enjoying these candy pariahs? No one. They just get in the way of decent hardworking, delicious red and orange candies who don’t loaf about being just “okay tasting.”
4. Australian Licorice: Have you tried Australian Licorice? It is soft and flavorful and comes in tantalizing flavors like mango and kiwi. I would consider myself a fairly patriotic lady, but America needs to step its licorice game up if we are to truly compete in this global economy. Eating American licorice, (I’m looking at you, Twizzlers) is almost identical, from taste, texture, and nutritional standpoints, to chewing on a plastic straw. And honestly, Twizzler, do you call that flavor strawberry? What nerve. Go sit in the corner with the green sourpatch kids.
I’m trying to eat healthy lately, but just because I’m not eating candy doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about it. A lot.