I used to sit down on Sundays and type out some random thoughts and stories from the week. But with life as busy as it seems now, I am lucky if I hammer out a post each week just recapping my workouts. And though I love documenting them and interacting with all of you, “reporting” has never been my thing. Don’t get me wrong, I find a lot of value in being accountable to this blog and sharing my ups and downs with everything from running to crossfit to weight loss to vacations. But some of my favorite past posts are ones that come straight from the heart. And usually those can’t be planned. It’s a post about Danica Patrick or Mean Girls or the Boston Marathon. I do want to remain real and raw, and sometimes that means I may be a little feistier or divisive. And that’s ok. Though a peace-keeper at heart, I also recognize the value in such honesty.
So, here are my randoms as of late. (And I do mean random.)
- I have been on quite the reading terror lately. Just yesterday, I was reading one book on my iPad and listening to a different audiobook when running. And when I am on a reading kick like I have been, I have found myself narrating my own life often. Maybe I am the only one that does this, but as if I am writing my own novel, I tell the story of my day, my present actions, my plans for the next few hours, and whatever random thoughts pop up – all quietly in my own head. Sometimes I don’t even catch myself doing it, and other times it’s as if I am dramatically describing the scenes in front of me as I, say, walk through an airport, or tip over a bottle of water or get out of bed in the morning. I think because I respect how authors can make such mundane tasks as these sound interesting and even musical, I try my hand at doing the same. The only difference is that the only audience is myself. I’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember and even have been caught! I remember once making soup and thought I was alone so was audibly describing each step as if I was hosting my own cooking show when JD came down the stairs and watched me. Fairly enough, he has never let me forget it.
- If someone were to ask you how many men and women serve active duty in our army, would you have the foggiest idea? I realized that I really have no clue. Nor would I be able to answer the same question about the Navy or the Marines. So I decided I’d do some research to put all of our minds at ease. Here are those facts: http://us-military-branches.findthedata.org/q/1/2405/How-many-active-personnel-does-the-US-Military-Branch-Army-have
- Lately, I have had a difficult time not talking about my annoyance with how people use hashtags. I realize it’s a subjective topic and there is not a right or wrong answer, but often times I see what someone has tagged on their Twitter post, FB status or Instagram caption and think “What are you trying to get at here?” To me, the main reason for using a hashtag is to catalogue your post with like subjects. So if you tag it #running, then those searching for running stuff can find it. Or if you tag all the pictures of your baby with her name, then you can easily find just those photos rather than scrolling (although you’ll also get every other #sarah that’s tagged.) The other reason would be to occasionally have an inside joke or maybe a little wit in there. I have been guilty of this. Just recently I posted a picture of myself running and tagged it #cheerleaderthighs. This is a reference to a comment made to me while Crossfitting and I shared it with my friends. They are the only ones who would have understood the hashtag and that was ok for me. But to do that with every single post? Well now you are just organizing a little high school cliché where no one understands what you are saying and either they feel dumb or you look crazy. And for those that constantly feel the need to write full sentences as hashtags? How about you just write the sentences. #becauseitdoesn’tmakesensetomakethisahashtagratherthanjustusingyourwords. Like I said, this is subjective and this is no way an attack, just my personal opinions. I am sure someone could easily make an argument against selfies and you know I love me some of them. #goaheadandjudgemyselfiesbutican’tstopwon’tstop
- I dislike pretentious people. Like I want to kick them in the teeth. If you think you are better than someone, then you aren’t. Recently I was witness to a conversation amongst acquaintances that was just oozing with pretentiousness. I left feeling slimy for even being around such arrogance. But is it something that can be reversed? Can you do an intervention? Hmm….I need to ponder that.
- Isn’t it strange to think about domesticated animals? I sometimes sit back and watch these two, 4-legged furry creatures scurry around my feet, lick my legs, sleep in my lap and even in my bed and wonder “When did this become a thing?” I adore my babies and have grown up with dogs but it always cracks me up when I stop to think about how bizarre it is. I mean what if that was a domesticated raccoon in my bed? You’d all think I was nuts. But a dachshund that was bred to hunt for moles in the ground? Nah….they should be cuddled between my legs at night.
- I am often crippled by the fear that having children will make me boring. There is a lot more to this thought – in fact I wrote an unpublished blog post about this a few weeks ago. I know it will put all you moms and dads out there on the defense and will probably piss some people off. (And conversely, it will make my mother jump for joy when she reads the part about me really wanting kids.) I will publish it eventually…just have to get the courage. That’s what I am working on here – getting the courage to say what’s real and not always what’s going to be the crowd pleaser. My therapist tells me it’s healthy to keep these things to myself until I know I can handle whatever backlash comes my way and not take it personally. So until then, just know, I am fearful about becoming boring. And I also have a therapist. So that.
- I told JD a month or so ago that if I won the lottery, I’d work at the zoo. And not to sell tickets or Dippin’ Dots. I’d want to wear the coveralls and be back there with the baboons feeding them leaves off a stick. And then this past weekend, while on our flight to Portland, I told him when I retire maybe I’ll become a flight attendant. Despite my age at that point, I’d still want to be on Southwest because they are obviously the most fun. He laughed at me and said “You could never survive that job. You are the least patient person I know and are completely incapable of doing anything in the least efficient way possible. You know how you get when flights are delayed – that would be your life.” Well rain on my parade, why don’t you. He’s right, I just thought it would be fun to mix cocktails using the little liquor bottles and cans of club soda.
- Jokes about Parkinson’s aren’t funny. Someone at my previous job once said to me “Let’s make like Michael J Fox and Shake a Leaf.” Then at trivia the other day, someone’s team name was “Michael J Fox is bad at Jenga.” I imagined taking the mic and saying “Hey, team MJFIBAJ. My dad has PD. And at age 69, he sits, drools, sleeps. He can’t talk. He has trouble walking. He falls. He can’t eat a lot of the time because swallowing is difficult. He can’t type or write. Even attempting Jenga would be a delight for him because it might take his mind off his constantly failing body. Go eff yourselves.” But instead, despite the rage inside me, I said nothing. Not even to the team I was with. Because I have played trivia often and our team names are not always the most politically correct, either. I can’t remember a time when we made fun of a disease, but we certainly have taken our stab at politics, George Zimmerman and other things that could offend people. It’s a good reminder that just because something may be funny to me or my team, it might hurt someone else. And I’d rather be a boring, non-witty, less funny team name than one that caused the same emotions in someone else, as I felt a few weeks ago.
- In one single day, 19,000 flights can take place over the US. NINETEEN THOUSAND. Check this cool visualization. It’s amazing that we don’t see more planes next to us when flying.
- Portland is a great city. There are some amazing breweries and bars and restaurants. The river is gorgeous. But when people say Portland is weird, it’s like saying San Francisco is hilly. (read: it’s an understatement) It took me some time to appreciate the city and I think part of that was the fact that I had just come down a calm, serene, quiet mountain and then immediately was thrown into homelessville, heckling, smelly China Town. Normally, I am open minded and really don’t get fazed by much so I was surprised by how uncomfortable I was. But watching a homeless 20-something man almost punch a homeless 40-something woman for calling him a toad was rough. I wanted to mediate: “Hey, listen. You live on the street. You haven’t showered in what looks like months. You are clearly augmenting your living situation with some sort of substance. Is “toad” really the worst thing that’s happened to you today? Sticks and stones, buddy. Let’s move on” I didn’t , of course and within a block later another man was yelling at me “Can I stick my hand in your pink box” as I was carrying my coveted Voodoo Doughnuts. Once we realized we weren’t in the most amazing part of the city, we fled and the rest of the trip was much better. So we’d happily go back to PDX and hit up the spots we didn’t have time for, see friends, run along the river. We’ll just avoid China Town.
- I am obsessed with twistbands. I got my first sample from Birchbox and wasn’t initially convinced. I have been using the standard hair tie for years and appreciate a nice, tight fit. But – it was also breaking my hair. Each pony-tail (and there is at least one a day given my exercise schedule) was ripping my hair apart. So I opted for these and haven’t looked back. They don’t break my hair and the headbands hold the flyaways when I am running. After I am done sweating, I rinse them in the shower or sink and let them airdry. They aren’t the cheapest so I want to preserve them. Give them a go, ladies.
- I learned most of my adult knowledge of geography from Bourne movies. Where is Manila? Well it’s in the Philippines and is where they make the blue pills on the program. If you have seen these movies and don’t consider hiding an extra license plate and empty passport in your car door, then think again. They’re watching.
- The Cleveland airport is my new hell. Specifically, terminal D. I have spent maybe 12 hours there in the past 2 weeks and the worst part of it all is that it’s a Diet Coke Free Zone. Pepsi Pepsi everywhere. So when you stuck there because Gate D28 never has planes depart on time, then you’ll have to resort to DDP (Diet Dr. Pepper) or wine. I suggest the latter.