The Best Part of Waking Up

I have friends who actually wake up before the birds. On purpose. They like to call themselves "morning people"; I like to call them sadists. Either way, lately I have found myself being dragged, kicking and screaming, into their ranks. I don't like it.

Normally, I am not the type to spring out of bed when the alarm goes off, ready and willing to let the day take me wherever it goes. In fact, more often than not, my AM routine goes a little something like this:

6:00 - Andrew's alarm goes off
6:15 - "Today shall be the day I change a lifetime of rituals and actually drag my ass out of bed to workout!" alarm goes off.
7:00 - "Do I really need to shower?" alarm goes off.
7:25 -"Thank God for that collection of cute headbands, for I am a scrub" alarm goes off.
7:30 - "Leggings. Definitely leggings" alarm goes off.
7:35 - "Get your ass up or you are going to be late" alarm goes off.
7:40 - "NOIREALLYMEANITGETYOURASSOUTOFBEDNOW!!" alarm goes off.
7:41 - Grab cell phone. Peer at Facebook news feed through single bleary eye.
7:42 - Feel relief. No pressing social information passed the interwebz in sleep.
7:43 - Navigate to Boston.com. Eyes gradually un-squint.
7:44 - Read article about how science has not determined what impact use of technology by children will have.
7:46 - Rant about how technology will be downfall of society. Ask for weather.com forecast for local area.
7:47 - Think of Folger's commercial. Handsome man always looks so satisfied as he reads paper next to steaming mug of coffee and wife enjoys toast.
7:48 - Realize that daily ritual of reading free newspaper online in bed might be contributing to lack of fulfillment in life.Vow to do better.
7:49 - Check NextBus app to determine potential lateness-factor.
7:49:30 - Yikes.
7:52 - Put contacts on eyeballs, plug in hair straightener and wonder how much Southwest would charge for under-eye baggage while Sonicare does its thing.
7:55 - Put on outfit #1. Question when thighs became size of Easter hams.
8:01 - Scrutinize outfit #4. Wail that nothing fits; vow to lose 40 lbs by next week. Consider chopping off leg.
8:02 - Shimmy back into outfit #1.
8:07 - Finish straightening hair. Shiny!
8:09 - Poke eye with mascara wand. Determine no injury; decide Taylor Momson is perfectly good inspiration for makeup.
8:12 - Cram oatmeal down gullet while foraging for lunch options. Curse self for not pre-planning noontime meal.
8:15 - Toss three string cheeses, cup of grapefruit, raw sweet potato and peanut butter into trendy shoe store bag/lunchbox. Will make do.
8:21 - Stand outside door fumbling for keys. WHERE ARE ALL THE KEYS?!
8:22 - Find keys under umbrella/stapler/year's supply of vitamins in purse.
8:23 - Where is cell phone?
8:25 - Exit building. See T idling across road; sprint to make it. Curse at rude drivers who laugh.
8:26 - Settle into seat and mentally prepare for workday.

Yes, that about sums up my morning routine.

Which is why, you can imagine, the past few early Monday morning wake-up calls have been giving me fits and starts. Last week, I had to be up at 3:20 AM. Oh yes, you read that correctly; THREE. TWENTY. A. M. I had a work event in NYC at 10 am, and since it would have been $800 to fly, I ended up being booked into a 5:10 train out of South Station (recap of my insane NYC day forthcoming, promise!). Unfortunately, I never managed to get back on track, either rest-wise or food-wise, so last week became a sort of emotionally-charged no-man's land. A nervous breakdown yesterday and a good night's sleep later, and I got to do it all over again this morning with a 5:20 alarm for a 7am meeting.



I think I scared the baristo*at Starbucks when I stumbled into line, mumbling something about, "the beans. Just give me the beans. Chomp chomp chomp!". And by "think", I mean, "obviously," as he not only gave me the side-eye but frantically scrawled my name across the cup and thrust it to the coffee-man, shouting "AMERICANO! NEXT!!" and sweating profusely.
*(What *is* the masculine form of barista, anyway?) 

Don't get me wrong -- I love my job and realize how fortunate I am to have all the opportunities it affords me. It's just the early mornings that I hate. The truth is, I'd really like to become one of those morning sadists; it would be nice to be able to get my workouts in, or read that morning paper over a steaming cup of coffee, or perhaps even avoid looking like Godzilla as I tramp into work four out of five mornings a week. The problem is, I can't seem to ever get into the groove of waking up early without wanting to snap the heads off of the first fifty people with whom I come into contact. I've exhausted Google and tried all the old tricks, including gradually re-setting my internal clock, going to bed earlier and consistently waking up at the same time, regardless of how much sleep I've gotten.

Sadly, none of it seems to work. No matter what I do, or how many days in a row I rise with the dawn, I can't seem to drag my dead, defeated carcass about my day without contemplating exactly how gauche it would be to take a quick catnap under the conference table. Which I might or might not have done. Once. Ok, twice.

If any of my fellow alarm-clock curmudgeons have any tips on how they managed to morph themselves into those people we all love to hate, please, share the wealth! Or, you know, just commiserate on how unfair it is that there are people who actually wake up at the crack of dawn on purpose.

Now please excuse me while I go find my third cup of coffee.

Freeing Up Headspace

This week, I've been feeling very... scattered. I'd like to blame it on the whole "short week" thing, but I actually worked on Monday so I can't fall back on that. I'd also like to insist that it's because I had to go an entire day without Wikipedia, but that would be a lie, too. I actually only found myself Googling one subject I normally wouldn't, and that's only because I might have the "Season 2 Episode List of Pretty Little Liars" page bookmarked. In an effort to free up some space in my head, here's a random list of what's swimming around in my brain today:

- While it may seem as though I only watch tv shows geared towards 13 year old fan girls, that's not entirely true. The last two series I watched prior to PLL were Dexter and The Wire, and if you've seen any of either of them, you'll agree that both those series are heavy. Basically, my philosophy is this: for every teenybopper interest I indulge, I try to have 1-2 "adult" interests to counterbalance. A girl's gotsta have a code, ya feel me? (I love Omar. Indeed).

[Source]

- I have half a post written on this already, but some of you know that I was terrified of the dentist for a really long time. It got to the point where I would shake and have honest panic attacks at the mere thought of sitting in a dental chair. For the most part, I got over that three years ago when I found a really great practice through the recommendation of a friend. Sure, I now drive 40 minutes to get there, but I trust these people not to hurt me and they're never judgey, which I've found is key when it comes my healthcare professionals. Anyway, I had a cleaning this morning, and in addition to having no cavities, the entire process took less than a half hour. Floss FTW!

- If you care about pro football, you know that my beloved New England Patriots are taking on the Baltimore Ravens on Sunday in the AFC Championship. I have never denied my love of Tom Brady, both as a player and a hot specimen of man, but I will admit that, for a brief time in 2009, I also held the notion that Joe Flacco was attractive. Then I saw him without his helmet on. YIKES. Aaron Rodgers has since taken up my #2 spot. He's sickly talented, I think he's hot and anyone who gives me an excuse to yell a random catchphrase at inappropriate times is a winner in my book. Discount double-check!

[Source]

- Now that I've made myself sufficiently pink hat-esque, I feel the need to muddy my football credentials even further by saying that I am pulling for a Pats/Giants showdown in the SuperBowl. And it's not even because I'm on some kind of quest for vengeance after 2007 (known in our house as, "The Year The Pats Went 18-0 and They Cancelled the SuperBowl Because They Were Just Too Damn Perfect And Declared Champions". Someone has sour grapes). In addition to my dark college football roots, I have another quick confession to make: I'm not just a Pats fan; I'm also a pseudo-Giants fan. They're my NFC team and I can routinely be found at the bar on Sundays sporting a TB12 jersey with a NYG hat. It's hereditary; my Dad's from Nawth Jerz. To be clear, though -- should this event occur, I'm pulling for my Patsies the entire way. The ENTIRE. WAY!

- Ok, enough football talk. I'm going to be on a train for 8 hours on Monday for business and need some good reads for my Nook. I'm currently trying to figure out wtf is going on in The Night Circus (in a good way), but I'm going to end up finishing it before I leave. I already read The Hunger Games a year ago, I've exhausted Jen Lancaster's library and I sped through Mindy Kaling's musings in two days. What books are you loving lately?

And on that note.... have a great weekend! And GO PATS!

Rumplestiltskin Ain't Got Jack

Today, I took my first spin class since I started half training. Oh, and lest you be confused, I haven't started training for any 2012 halves yet; I'm referring to the one I ran in October.

So yeah, since June.

Spin was always one of those mysterious feats of athleticism that I planned to view strictly through the paned glass in the group studio door. As if my crippling fear of looking like a jackass during group exercise wasn't enough, the horror stories alone were enough to keep me away  -- people who had taken an introductory class and been unable to sit for a week, coworkers who burned off half a box of Dunkin's finest in a single session, friends from the weight loss forum I used to haunt who relayed stories of how little estuaries of sweat pooled into "Lake Username" beneath their bikes.

If you hadn't guessed by now, I'm kind of lazy. I prefer to maintain the use of the tree trunks attached to my hips. I believe that anything that burns 650 calories in an hour should be illegal. And the prospect of a "Lake Caitlin" forming beneath me? Thanks, but no thanks.

And then my good friend, the same good friend who would later convince me that 13.1 miles was a good idea, talked me into attending a lunchtime class with her. And by that, I mean she threatened to go over my head and blurt out to my boss that we were going spinning. Nothing says "workout motivator" like a little corporate passive aggression.

Yes, my ass hurt; no, I couldn't walk afterward. I burned 550 calories in that first class and had a little great lake to call my very own. And I loved it. I went twice a week for almost a year after that first class, when my schedule allowed and the stars aligned over my lunch break. And then that same friend who introduced me to this burgeoning love of my life sadistically ripped it away and made me start running.

How rude.

Since it has been three months since I ran anything over a 10k and my hips' expansion is currently giving the national inflation rate a run for its money, I declared today the day that I took back spin. After scarfing leftover lemon basil chicken pasta, I marched my (not so) little bum across the street, planted it in the saddle and spun like Rumplestiltskin*.

During that 55 minutes of glorious torture, I had a chance to refresh my memory regarding the top five lessons I have learned about spinning. In the event that anyone reading wants to bring this special kind of hell upon themselves, I thought that I would share what I wished someone had told me before I started.

Five Facts Someone Should Have Told Me About Spinning

1. If you have a lunchtime class that is scheduled to last 55 minutes, negotiate with your boss to take a 75 minute break. 5 extra minutes to change and claim a bike; 15 to rinse off and get dressed. The extra 20 minutes of work is worth it.

2.Some well-timed Michael Jackson can make all the difference.

3.Phrases such as "I love you," "will you marry me?" and "it's a girl!" are overrated. The best words in the English language are "Back in the saddle."

4. You might not think you need to rinse off after, but trust me. No one wants to be the stinky kid!

5. Sorry, Al Gore. The internet is snazzy and all, but dry shampoo is the greatest invention of our time. Perfume samples are a close second.

Yes, that about sums it up. Of course, the usual lessons that other people always go on and on about probably apply too; I'm sure that padded shorts, clip in shoes and a nice expensive gel seat cover probably all make the process a little bit easier. I wouldn't know, because I prefer to take my exercise with a side order of pain. 

Now excuse me while I go unclench my hamstrings.


*I am aware that Rumplestiltskin partook in a different kind of spinning. I was once in an ice show based on classic children's fairy tales. Plus, I've seen every episode of Once Upon a Time, which totally qualifies me as an expert on the matter.

Bigfoot, Elephants or All of the Above?

Some of you might remember a little, shall we say, incident involving my downstairs neighbor a few weeks ago. After overcoming the shame of having a stranger basically compare me to a herd of elephants, laughing at myself for being incredibly uncoordinated, and then texting/tweeting/blogging about what a ridiculous fat ass I am, I promptly forgot about the entire thing.

Until Wednesday night.

You see, Andrew and I got the Wii Active 2 for Christmas from my dad and stepmother. Even after reading several Amazon reviews stating that it really is an ass-kicker, I began my training on Monday afternoon expecting it to be another entertaining, but by no means challenging, way to kill time and burn off beers as I drink them (wait, what?). I set up my profile, turned myself into a tiny-in-the-waist-junk-in-the-trunk avatar clad in neon pink and black spandex, picked my personal trainer and got ready to get my heart rate up to walking speed.

Thirty sweat-soaked minutes later, the game was telling me that I'd burned 100 calories, while my very fancy, very expensive Polar HRM was informing me that, after subtracting out the BMR cals for the time I'd put in, a whopping 230 calories had been torched. Given that the Wii hrm is on the forearm (no chest strap) and only tracks burn during the actual moves you are doing, coupled with my own awareness of exertion, I'm inclined to believe the Polar.

That's approaching Jillian territory, people. With a video game.

Ok, maybe it's not that awesome (*this was during a long run during half training; I don't burn 1k cals on the regular)

The Active 2 has its flaws; the most annoying of these is that the remote and/or balance board shut off if you don't use them for a few minutes, thus interrupting the game. And while I personally don't mind any reason to drop my weights during my 30th tricep kickback, I can see how it would be annoying to someone with a little more, should I say, badassery than me. Overall though, I felt that for the 20 minutes of actual working out I did, I got a decent bang for my buck... and by that I mean that I was definitely suffering the DOMS after doing it.

In that same vein, Mr. "Herd of Elephants" Downstairs had apparently fallen victim to a severe case of the DODS -- Delayed Onset DB Syndrome. How do I know this, you ask? Because after completing our second workouts right after work on Tuesday evening, our Super scared the bejeezus out of us by banging on the door at 9 pm to let us know that he had gotten a complaint about our "noise level", which was apparently, "repeated and disrupting Mr. Downstairs' sleep."

Look, I understand the importance of courtesy in apartment living. I really do. There have been many a night where I am awakened at 1am by the sound of what must be bowling balls rolling around the ceiling above my bed. I'm considering learning Italian so that I can pop some popcorn and really appreciate the Roman soap opera that is acted out nightly next door, usually around 11pm (local time). I've even refrained from prank calling the harlot who left her number on top of the dryer with a note for Andrew to "call her sometime" as my sports bras went through the spin cycle. I mean, maybe I saved the note in anticipation of a wine-fueled girly sleepover with my besties, but it's not as if I don't understand the social constructs of living in close quarters with 70 other people. I get it. I really do.

I lived with 40 other women. I can coexist!

What I don't get, though, is why Mr. Downstairs had to resort to passive aggressively alerting us to the situation regarding his sleep disruption. On one hand, I understand that he had come up once before, but on the other, he never mentioned anything about sleeping and I promptly stopped when I realized that my little kick line was making his ceiling quake. I'm a little bit perturbed that I have done far more rambunctious activities than 30 second intervals of jogging (lightly!) in place, and never once had the previous tenant down there complain. I mean, I was Shredding pretty hardcore WITHOUT the carpet in place just a year ago. I also don't think that 3 (or 6, if we workout back-to-back) minutes of thumping in the 6pm hour is particularly outrageous. And if there were really an issue of sleep deprivation, why couldn't he have just been an adult, come up and let us know that he works the graveyard shift or whatever, and to please keep it down while he's sleeping?

I fully realize that there are two sides to this story, and as such, we are hoping to try to work WITH Mr. Downstairs to get to the source of the problem and try to find a mutually agreeable resolution. Andrew is going to pay him a visit this afternoon to ask what his sleeping pattern is, and to let him know that we are perfectly willing to accommodate his needs -- by working out when he is either not home or at a time when he is not generally asleep. I would go, too, but after probably seeming totally rude during our last encounter by refusing to open the door and just yelling to him through it (if you recall, Andrew was out of town and I was home alone, which I wasn't about to broadcast to the very large stranger standing outside my door), I figured it would be best to approach him 1:1 first.

Of course, this is all speculation on our part, and the success of our plan is contingent upon the idea that our exercise is causing the problem. I don't really see what else could be, as we don't keep the tv particularly loud, rarely watch the one in our bedroom (which I presume is directly above his) and only listen to music via Pandora on our cell phones -- but if he has other issues, we are happy to try to work with him on that, too. I just don't like feeling as though I have to tiptoe around now for fear of our poor little Super will come knocking again, rolling his eyes at the absurdity of it all.

And I only burned 150 calories yesterday since I skipped my three minutes of cardio.

Rats.

There is Nothing New Under the Sun

A lot of the reason behind my latest blogging hiatus stemmed from the single fact that I felt like everything that I wanted to blog about was already being blogged to death by everyone else. Thanksgiving? Oh, I'm so thankful for my family and friends! Christmas? Wow, the lead up to the holidays is so stressful but the actual day is so family oriented and I love it! New Year's Eve? Psshh, I wouldn't be caught dead out on Amateur Night; I spent a quaint evening in with good company and laughter!

This is what I looked like by the end of the holidays, too.

Rather than regaling everyone with detailed analyses of my day-to-day doings (which, truthfully, were pretty mundane the past month or so anyway), it made more sense to me to just take a break, regroup and come back fresh with my own take on events, after everyone had a chance to get their lives back in order and, with any luck, recover from the surge of reflection running rampant on the internet.

Given the flurry of 2011 recaps over the past two weeks, at first I was hesitant to go back over the 11 goals that I had set for myself during the past year. Why, I wondered, would anyone other than myself care about what I accomplished (or didn't) in the span of 365 days? What makes it worth publishing, committing it to public record?  I hemmed. I hawed. I hemmed some more. But at the end of the day, I realized that I'd be cheating my 2012 self out of an opportunity to learn if I didn't do it. Rather than bore everyone to death with one long, ridiculous post, I thought I'd just tack updates on a few of my goals at the end of other posts. I might do all 11; I might not. But I figure this way, if you don't care, you can just read the first part and skip the summary, and I get the satisfaction of reflecting on what I what I did and what I still want to do. Everyone wins!
_______________________________
And so, now that I've done exactly what I said I didn't want to do, here is an update on 2011 Goal #1:

1) Fiscal Responsibility 
One of my biggest goals in 2011 was to finally get my ass in gear with respect to not only how I spend my money, but also how I save it. After successfully clearing all debt but my current student loan payments in 2008 and 2009, 2010 was a time to kind of just relax and enjoy the fact that I no longer had to subsist on PB&J and PBR. It was nice to appreciate not cringing every single time a telephone rang or a white corner stuck out of my mailbox. For the first time since my senior year of college, I was able to live a comfortable lifestyle, within my means, without worrying about every nickle and dime that burned a hole in my wallet. It was a good feeling.

But in 2011, I wanted more. I wanted to save! I wanted to be a money maven!

To that end, I began the year with two goals: 1) pay off at least one of my student loans, and 2) end the year with a substantial sum in my savings account. All in all, I finished 50/50, saving enough of a nest egg to cover my ass should I ever need to, and falling a little bit short of paying off one of those pesky loans.

And while I didn't mange to pay off an entire loan in full, I'm ok with that -- because rather than paying off the easiest one with a fixed income rate, I decided to take on one with a higher balance and a (much, criminally) higher interest rate. I now owe substantially less towards the principle of that loan, and the balance is dropping lower every month. With respect to my little cushion account, I set a savings goal and really stuck to it, transferring a good chunk of each paycheck and never dipping into my savings save for one real, true emergency for which it is meant (my wallet was stolen and I needed to transfer cash in the event my landlord cashed our rent check the one day it took me to sort it all out with the bank). I also hoped to learn more about my work retirement accounts, which I actually found really interesting ! I learned all about my 403(b) and pension plans, and ALSO found out that I have a 401(k) loitering around due to a previous job I had. All in all, I feel at a much more comfortable place than I did a year ago, both in terms of finances and knowledge of them.  

Assessment: A. I know I only scored a 50 on the total rubric, but I really put my head into this one and made substantial progress towards my goals.


So, that's that. I have a real question, though: what is your opinion of year-end recap posts? I think they're valuable, to a point, but on the other hand, who really cares aside from the person writing them?

Maintaining Equlibrium or, Why the Word "Balance" Makes Me Want to Scream

Now is probably a good time to get all of the perfunctory holiday greetings that I so kindly skipped out of the way. Happy New Year and whatever religious-associated winter holiday you chose (or did not choose) to celebrate! I hope they were all glorious. I happen to be a Christmas celebrator myself, but that didn't limit me to accepting good will from whomever felt inclined to bestow it upon me. I wrote a whole post about that, actually, but then couldn't find just the right time to publish it. I also penned an essay entitled, "Why Rudolph is Ruining Our Children," but I never got it quite up to the standard to which I hold anything I put out on the interwebz. Then there are the  random thoughts clinging to my dashboard like half-dead bugs on a highway bumper -- for the moment, they are stuck, but I like to think that someday they'll fly again. 

Notice a trend here?

A few weeks ago, I wrote about how I was really going to buckle down and focus on getting back to a steady routine of making healthy choices. I feel like a lot of people out here in blog-land spout the same philosophy when it comes to this; if I have to read, "it's really all about balance!" one more time, I'm going to stab my eyes out with a raw kale stem.

Of course, all stupid sayings come from a kernel of truth. Healthy living is all about balance, but for most of us, that includes balancing not only the basics (food, water and nutrients) but also the social norms of our society (family, friends and happy hour) with the rigors of everyday life (work, exercise and a healthy dose of sloth). Helen Fielding knew her stuff; it really does seem that as soon as one part of your life starts going ok, another falls spectacularly to pieces. It's enough to drive one crazy, and by "one", I obviously mean, "me".

So it's a work in progress, this whole "balance" thing. I will say that, as cliche as it might sound, I was happy to wipe 2011 off the metaphorical books and have a good start to 2012. Over the past few years, I've noticed that how I spend my New Year's Eve tends to mirror the overall tone of the subsequent year. On Dec. 31st, 2007, I spent the night in downtown Boston in a sequined top. 2008 was, in a word, ridiculous. Last year, we spent NYE witnessing one of my bff's nuptials in upstate VT, sequestered from the rest of the world and ringing in 2011 with a handful of close friends and a bunch of virtual strangers. Last year, I kept my good friends close, but didn't go out of my way to make new friends or keep in touch with some of the ones I already have. This year, I want to be better at that. Starting with making more of an effort to keep up with all of my blog friends!

So consider this one of the first steps toward that goal -- hello to the oldies, welcome to the newbies, and here's hoping that in 2012, we all find that elusive equilibrium: balance!