A-Z Survey

A – Age: 30 (for a few more weeks!)
B – Biggest Fear: Spiders
C – Current Time: 7:50 AM
D – Drink You Had Last: Coffee
E – Easiest Person To Talk To: Kristy, my BFF, always
F – Favorite Song: Wagon Wheel by The Old Crow Medicine Show or Bodies by Soul Miner's Daughter
G – Grossest Memory: One time, I put my foot into my pair of faux-Uggs, and when I took a step I squished something and it felt cool. I was absolutely sure I'd just stepped on a roach IN MY SHOE. Turned out it was a packet of ketchup. Still gross.
H – Hometown: Marietta, Georgia
I – In Love With: Mr. John Frederick Agel III
J – Jealous Of: I wish I could say I was beyond jealousy at this point, but truth be told, I'm jealous of friends my age who comfortably own their own homes.
K – Kindest Person You Know: My next door neighbor. She has a huge heart and gets really upset when we talk about killing spiders and mice in our house.
L – Longest Relationship: Eric, 6 years TODAY!
M – Middle Name: Claire
N – Number of Siblings: Nada
O – One Wish: To find it within myself to stick to my goals (exercise, saving money, yada yada)
P – Person You Spoke To On The Phone Last: Work colleagues (conference calls for life)
Q – Question You’re Always Asked: When are you guys getting engaged?
R – Reason To Smile: I feel like I'm finally living my life, not just waiting for it to start.
S – Song You Last Sang: Something from Fall Out Boy, most likely.
T – Time You Woke Up: 6:15 AM
U – Underwear Color: ...
V – Vacation Destination: Cashiers, NC, always. It's the only place we can afford to go because it's free for us!
W – Worst Habit: Biting my cuticles. Gross.
X – X-Rays You’ve Had: My right knee.
Y – Your Favorite Food: Anything of the Asian variety - Japanese, Vietnamese, Chinese, Thai, etc. etc. Or a good steak with Caesar salad.
Z – Zodiac Sign: Leo

Peachtree Road Race 2015

Oh, hello. How are you? Haven't seen you in a while. Let's skip the rest of the formalities, the apologies, the excuses. Let's just jump right in to life right this very minute.

This weekend was AMAZING.

Thursday:

Thursday I worked from home while Eric took half a furlough day. Around 5:30, after an averted work catastrophe that could have derailed my entire weekend, I hopped offline and we walked down the road to one of Atlanta's newest breweries - Eventide.

Eventide is a half a mile from our house. This is going to be dangerous, and we are going to collect way too many pint glasses over the course of this next year.

ANYHOODLE.

We were joined by some great friends and enjoyed several 6 oz. pours of everyone's favorite summer beverage.

 Happy Super Fun Times.

 We wish there were more beer tickets.

 Eric does not like getting his picture taken, but what a fox.

Drew likes getting his picture taken. Also a fox.

We had an adventure trying to find dinner in town, but ended up back in Grant Park for some tacos and margaritas at my favorite place.

Overall, the evening was a really fabulous way to kick off the long holiday weekend!

Friday:

So, Thursday involved beer and margaritas, right? So Friday morning involved coffee (& water), couch time, and The Fall. 

Since the Peachtree Road Race was only 24 hours away, I tried to start hydrating. My last 6 mile run ended with my feeling sick for the entire day and losing motivation to run for an entire month. I didn't want to end up dehydrated and defeated on the 4th, so I avoided alcohol (with a tiny exception) and drank #allthewater.

Around noon, Eric and I peeled ourselves off the couch and drove downtown to check out the race expo and get my number. I anticipated a long line, but our only issue during the whole expo was actually the traffic trying to get there, and the ridiculous parking fees.

Once inside the expo, I had my number within minutes. We walked around, purchased some reasonably priced Thorlo socks, did NOT purchase some unreasonably priced (but super adorable) tank tops, and just generally enjoyed the atmosphere. I think attending the expo helped get me more excited for the race the next day.

Once we got home, I made a stirfry for lunch with a (large) side of ramen noodles (#allthecarbs), and Eric and I spent the rest of the day hanging out, watching TV. For dinner a made a large bowl of spaghetti, and at some point I started laying out my race day outfit, along with all accessories. I made sure all batteries were charged, safety pins were in place, and the post-race bag was packed.

USA! USA! USA!

I called it an early night.

 

Eric started celebrating his Independence early.

 

Saturday:

I woke up around 6:45 with a plan to head out by 7:15. I drank a small cup of coffee and had a roast beef and cheese roll up for breakfast. Eric was an absolute sweetheart and drove me to the start of the race - or as close as we could safely get. I had about a mile walk from the drop off point to my wave.*

After nearly settling for the L wave, I decided to make a break for it and run up to K. I'm so glad I did, because I found Jenn and Jerod! We chatted for a minute before our wave could go, and I think that gave me a little motivational push to start strong. There was a huge bolt of lightning right before the clock ran down, and I was a little nervous they were going to delay the race. Later waves were actually diverted to the local malls, but we were able to start on time.

I had a perfect Spotify playlist ready to go, but I forgot to make it available offline. With 54K other runners, plus spectators, I couldn't stream so I had to adjust my plan. I ended up listening to an old workout mix, which was delightful because I hadn't heard most of those songs in a few years.

So our wave started, Jerod ran ahead of me, I ran ahead of Jenn, and we were off. Spectators were few and far between this year, due to the weather, which was a little sad. The Peachtree is such an Atlanta institution, and when the weather is good, the entire 6.2 mile stretch is lined with folks shouting encouragement, clapping, handing out popsicles, beers and hugs. As it was, there was a speckling of folks throughout the race, but not nearly as numerous as usual.

I stuck to my interval running throughout the race - 3:1 - and I kept my pace reasonable. The entire first half of the race felt like a slight downhill, which was very surprising. I ran the race back in 2009, and walked it in 2013, and I thought I remembered it being more hilly. There's a slight incline around mile 2.5, and then "Cardiac Hill", which is a more intense uphill in front of Piedmont Hospital, around mile 3.  Even so, "Cardiac Hill" was not nearly as hard as I remembered either, and I ended up running most of it.

Once we got to the lower numbered streets (17th St, etc), I realized I was feeling really strong and still had a lot of reserved energy. I hadn't even had a lot of water. The constant downpours and lower temperatures helped a lot too. I decided that when my phone said I'd reached mile 5, I was going to try to run the entire way to the finish. Any you know what? I did.

Eric and our neighbor, Aram, had gotten a table at TAP on Peachtree and 14th St. so as I ran up, I looked to my right to see if I could spot them. Like smart people in a thunderstorm, they were inside staying dry. That just gave me more motivation to push myself, go a little faster, and finish the race so I could join them for brunch!

I took the turn onto 10th St. and felt that familiar drop in my throat. I always get a little teary toward the finish of a race. I was never an athlete growing up, so every time I accomplish some athletic feat I just get really surprised and happy for myself. Whatever. I'm a weeper.

10th St. is always longer than I think it is. Right around the 6 mile mark, photographers are set up to take your finishing photos, and you can see them as soon as you turn the corner. But you still have .2 miles after that. I always forget that. So I sprinted to get my photo, and then honestly felt a little drained. I moved over to the right and walked for about 5-10 seconds, but then picked it back up and sprinted to the finish.

A quick note here - if you're ever walking in a race and you know there are runners behind you - MOVE TO THE RIGHT. ESPECIALLY in the last stretch. My finishing time was 1:20:09, and I honestly think I could have shaved 15 seconds if I wasn't trying to dodge walkers the last half a mile.

Regardless, I wanted to finish with an average of 12:59/mile or better. I just desperately wanted to get under 13, and I did. I'm so proud of myself. I was smiling all day long.

After the race I grabbed my t-shirt, wandered into someone's proposal (seriously - ooops), and then walked about a mile in the pouring rain back to TAP. Brunch was fantastic, and I was so happy to see Eric and tell him how I did. Jerod had finished about 15 minutes before I did, and was already seated (in dry clothes!). Jenn followed about 30 minutes after me. The five of us (don't forget Aram!) had great food, good drinks, and then headed home.

 

Cold and wet, but finished!

I spent the afternoon trying to take a nap, and then fell asleep about 10 minutes before I was supposed to get up - doh.

Saturday night was spent with Chris and Lisa, watching newly legalized fireworks from their front yard, eating absolutely delicious food, and hanging out with a warm and lovely crowd of people. This year was probably one of the best Independence Days I've ever had.

 

No comment necessary.

SUNDAY:

Sunday. Sunday. Sunday. There was more coffee. More couch, snuggles and The Fall. Around 1:00, we decided to talk to a local restaurant, Dakota Blue, for brunch. We split a really filling burrito, homemade hashbrowns, and Dos Equis. I took a trip to a local running store in an effort to buy a new pair of shoes, but they are closed on Sundays "for long runs". Bummer. So we spent the rest of the night in, watching the USA DOMINATE IN THE WORLD CUP FINALS!

 

SERIOUSLY.

MONDAY:

I took my furlough day on Monday, and lucked out when my friend Mark said he had the day off too! And so did his fiancee! We all met for lunch at a Thai place near his house. I've seen Mark a few times this year, but hadn't seen Gabriel since last spring, so it was wonderful catching up. And again, the food was so good! Very flavorful. Highly recommend it.

So Gabriel, who is awesome anyway, happens to work at the local running store (Big Peach Running Company), and offered to take me and fit me for new shoes! Back Story: I bought my running shoes in 2011, and have trained for 2 Peachtree Road Races and countless 5Ks since then. Eric's sisters were appalled (in the most supportive way) when I told them that earlier this year. I promised myself if I finished my training and stayed active for this race, I would reward myself with new shoes.

 

Old and busted (but also, work horses!).

 
So we walked over to the store, and I told Gabriel about my running habits, my knee issues, what I was looking for, etc. I ran in a neutral pair of Nikes while he did a gait analysis, and then he brought out four pairs for me to try on. The first two were awesome - a pair of Mizuno...I want to say Inspire(?) and a pair of ADIDAS Adizeros, both trainers. I loved how lightweight they were, and while my feet are incredibly wide, they both felt just roomy enough, while staying snug in motion. He also brought out a pair of Mizuno Hitogamis and Nike Zooms. The Nikes ended up being far more bulky than I was looking for. The Mizuno Hitogami I remember feeling alright in, but I was already sold on one of the first two pairs I tried on.

I tried both the Inspires and Adizeros again, and the Adizeros just felt like slipping on a glove. Gabriel also told me that they were likely to last 600-700 miles, as opposed to the Mizunos' 400. That was the deciding factor. I really thought I'd go with the Mizunos since they're such a big and trendy name right now, but apparently old school ADIDAS is where I'm at.

 

New hotness.

Big Peach had a $10 off coupon at the Peachtree Expo AND they give 5% off if you give them your old pair of shoes, so I received a pretty decent discount.

AND BEYOND:

So that was pretty much my weekend. It was really, really awesome. And I took my new shoes for a test drive last night, and while it was too hot for a serious run, my feet felt great!

*There was a mix up when my number was sold last year, and so the system put me in a SUPERFASTELITE wave, when I probably should have started closer to K. So as not to slow down the SUPERFASTELITE runners, I decided to put myself further back.

Reflections for the New Year #2 & January Resolution

I started 2014 with a lot of good intentions. Some resolutions really framed my year, while others became less of a priority.

So I'm not going to have a whole 2015 annual resolution. 12 months is a long time, and a lot of things can happen. I don't want to look back on a whole year and see mostly failures.

Instead, I have one big intent for this year - and it's a pretty good one. I want to live more purposefully. I want to spend every day working towards making myself happy, making those around me happy, and just generally living a more fulfilling life. I want to break myself away from being defined only as a consumer. I want to break myself away from defining myself as my weight, or as my fashion, or as my house. But that intention isn't really a S.M.A.R.T. goal, and it's not a very good resolution. It's just the way I plan to frame my actions this year.

I'm going to try something a little different for 2015. I'm going to attempt monthly resolutions. They say it takes 30 days to start a new habit, right? Seems like a smart approach. I don't know what all of my resolutions will be yet - just the first one. My plan is to start my resolution at the beginning of each month, reassess after 2 weeks and change anything necessary to keep me successful. I'll track my progress, and report back here at the end of the month. By that time, hopefully I will have formed a habit that will continue for the remainder of the year - if I decide it's still a priority.

With that said...

January Resolution:

Spend at least 5 minutes, every single day, doing something active.

Why 5 minutes?

5 minutes doesn't seem like a very long time, but that's entirely the point. Most health blogs talk about a 10 minute rule, but 10 minutes to me seems very daunting when it's cold and rainy outside. And this is January in Atlanta. So every day I can go for a 5 minute walk, do 5 minutes of jumping jacks, do 5 minutes of physical therapy - whatever. As long as it gets me into the habit of doing something, anything. I can then build from there.

Why is this resolution important?

This isn't about weight. I have only one body that's going to get me from my first day to my last on this earth, and I'm not treating it very well. My shoulder is hurting me, my knee is hurting me, my back is hurting me. And I'm only 30.

So, I'll track my progress for these 31 days and report back. Wish me luck!

Here's How I Know the Christmas Spirit Is Real

**Fair warning: This post has nothing to do with budget, or running, or minimalism, or any goals in general at all. This is purely a mushy I-Love-My-Family-Even-Though-We're-All-Crazy post.**

My mom and dad met when I was 9. That's not usually how the story goes, I know. My mom and I were living in a house in Florida, and my dad moved in next door. My dad was a strapping, young(ish) Englishman, working in Boynton Beach on a visa.

My mom fell in love instantly.

So did my dad. I mean, he didn't fall in love with my mom right away. No, he only had eyes for our Golden Retriever, Rusty.

My dad loved that dog. He would come over to our house almost every day to help us train Rusty or to play fetch. This is where my mom found her opportunity. See, my mom is a world class cook, so she used her kitchenly wiles and made my dad dinner several nights a week.

Eventually my dad couldn't eat food not cooked by my mom, and he made the lifesaving decision to propose to her, lest he starve to death. That's how I see it anyway. Pretty sure it's accurate.

Yes, yes. We're very happy. Now get in the kitchen.

Where did I fit in? Well, for a while, my dad who was not my dad at the time, would try to help me in math, or give me an allowance on the side that my mom didn't know about, or throw me in the pool. 

The struggle was real, guys.

Or take me to Disney World. He did that a lot. That was pretty awesome.

Then I became a teenager and we moved 4 times in 4 years. That was incredibly difficult for me, because I didn't have any friends, and I couldn't play any sports, and I couldn't join any clubs. And I blamed my dad. We fought CONSTANTLY. I "hated" him, and I'm not gonna lie, I'm pretty sure he "hated" me too.

There was love there, obviously, but you had to look really hard for it. Like, one time I was driving back to Atlanta for a shift at work when I got caught in some terrible traffic because of a major accident. This was before every person over the age of 5 owned a cell phone, so when I didn't show up for my shift on time, they called my parents' house to try to get a hold of me. When I still didn't show up after an hour, they called again. My dad, without even blinking, got in his car and traced my steps back to Atlanta to make sure it wasn't me in the major accident.

Or like when my engine blew up, or my radiator exploded, or my timing belt snapped - he always helped me out.

But generally our interactions involved us yelling at each other about money and responsibilities. This happened for a solid 12 years. We didn't talk on the phone, we barely spoke when I came home. We, um...we weren't in a good place.

Slowly but surely, as I started to figure out this whole "life" thing and stand on my own two feet, my dad stopped seeing me as a sullen, bratty teenager, and instead started seeing me as a daughter he raised. But we still fought a lot.

Here's where I'm convinced I'm living in a Hallmark movie. So, in Hallmark movies you have this grumpy, grinchy kind of character who used to love the holiday spirit, but who's now withdrawn and angry all the time, right? That's my dad. He wasn't overly generous when I was a teenager - and I'm not just talking about money (that part made sense because he was trying to teach me the value of the dollar, timeless 90s tween wardrobe be damned).

No, what I mean is we rarely spent time together. He tried to teach me how to drive stick shift once, but after about 30 minutes, his fist was clenched on the handle over the window and his face got really red, and let's just say I didn't learn how to drive stick shift that day.

But over the last month he's been a completely different person. I'm not sure what happened (elvish dust and Santa Claus magic, probably), but he's acting like - like a dad. Like the kind of dad you see in commercials and stuff.

E and I are thinking of buying each other bikes, but we aren't ready to commit to that kind of money. So my dad went into the garage, fished out his and my mom's bikes, pumped the tires, put the bike rack on my car, loaded the bikes, and gave me the tire pump.

He saw the wiper blades on my car were in sad disrepair, so he drove me to AutoZone to buy new ones, and installed them for me.

I've been talking about how my Kindle Fire (OG) is outdated and not compatible with newer apps, so when he saw a WinBook on sale, he bought me one.

My dad and I both like craft beer, so I was telling him about how my favorite beer has been out of stock at most stores in Atlanta all season. He called up his local bottle shop, found out they had 3 six packs, and asked me how many I wanted.

He noticed that I always have to open my car's trunk from the inside because the handle is broken, so he grabbed some bolt cutters (and I don't even want to know what else), and fixed it.

These are small things, to be sure, but none of them would have happened 10 years ago, and all of them have happened within the last month. I'm not sure what's changed, Maybe I've grown. Maybe he's grown. Maybe Santa or Hanukkah Harry gave us both a little push. 

My dad is the grumpiest of Grumpy Gusses, but he's my dad, and I love him. 

Pictured: Future Grumpy Gus

I loved him before, even when I "hated" him, don't get me wrong. But lately he's been more like the man I knew in 1994, and I'm really grateful for that.

So maybe this has nothing to do with Christmas at all, but I did ask Santa for a dad when I was about 6. I think delivered, he's just been tinkering with it for the last 20 years.

Maybe he wasn't ALWAYS grumpy.

My Mom Is a Hoarder

My mom is a hoarder. And so is my dad. I've often thought about submitting them to Hoarders or Hoarding: Buried Alive.

When I was a child, my mom and I moved around a LOT. Every year, in fact. We moved so often that we didn't always bother to unpack everything. My mom liked to call herself a "Pack Rat". I remember in one apartment, we had makeshift walkways created out of boxes piled all over the living room - the living room that was unusable for a time.

My mom and my dad, who are empty nesters, now live in a 4 bedroom split level house. The garage is so full of stuff (theirs, and my recently deceased grandmother's) that they park their cars outside in the driveway. The basement is completely filled with old memorabilia or "As Seen on TV" things from Costco that it can only function as a storage area. The breakfast room has 3 bookshelves chockablock full of cookbooks and cooking magazines. The kitchen has so many appliances and pots and pans and serving ware that the cabinets have now spilled over onto the counters, and there is no more space to prepare food. I could go on. And on top of all of that, they also have a storage room down the street.

My mom and dad don't like living a messy life. They want desperately to be organized, they really do. But here's a story:

For Christmas last year I gave my mom 4 days of my life. In those 4 days, any 4 days out of the year, we would tackle 4 rooms of the house. The catch was that my mom had to let me donate, trash or recycle 90% of what I thought was needed, and she could save 10%. We started in the kitchen.

We went through tupperware, pots and pans, appliances, COLANDERS. My mom owns something like 7 colanders. SEVEN. She has 5 or 6 casserole dishes, innumerable pots and pans of the same and varying sizes, 3 different coffee makers (standard, espresso and Keurig). We filled maybe one large box to "sell at a yardsale", and maybe one trashbag of broken items. Every time I asked my mom to pare down, she gave me a reason why she couldn't get rid of this, and certainly couldn't part with that.

The yardsale never happened, and I don't know where that box is now, but I'd wager several of those items are back in the cabinet.

So we didn't tackle any other rooms. I love my parents, but I wasn't going to waste our time.

The thing is, I don't judge my parents for hoarding. Sure, I make jokes on occasion, but the truth is that they're bombarded with advertising and socially accepted norms 24/7 telling them that owning more is better. Upgrading is important, but nostalgia is good too. So they have no filter and they keep everything.

I don't judge them at all, but I don't want to live like that.

In what may seem like the most obvious statement in the world, I think there's a chance I was maybe influenced by my mom. Bless her heart, she tried to instill the values of cleanliness and organization, but I had no frame of reference.

Besides having an overabundance of "useful" items (I'm using that term loosely here), my mom is also a collector. Of like, everything. Magazines, cookbooks, kitchen tchotchkes, ashtrays, menus, clowns, Murano glass. When I was 8 or 9, she and my grandmother (another fine collector in her own right) decided I needed to start a collection. My grandfather had collected yo-yos, my uncles had collected stamps and coins. None of these were interesting to me, so I started collecting cat figurines. Why? No idea. Because I was supposed to, I guess. I stopped collecting them sometime in high school.

When I came home from college my freshman year, I wanted to clean out my bedroom. My mom said she'd help me. Big mistake. I tried to donate my prom dresses, old board games with missing pieces, and (you guessed it) the figurines. I had no attachment to them anymore. I had pictures of myself in my dresses, I couldn't play the games without the pieces, and c'mon. Who needs cat figurines? I'm not even a cat person.

But my dear, sweet mom couldn't let go (there's a pattern here, I'm sure of it). She wouldn't let me donate my dresses. Sharpshooter and Trivial Pursuit are still on the top shelf of the closet, and those cat figurines?

Packed away in the storage room down the street.