1,000 Miles

This past Monday, Ryan and I completed our first ever fitness goal. We rode 1,000 miles on our bicycles. It feels so great!

I also have The Proclaimers song stuck in my head. You know the one? "I would walk five hundred miles, and I would walk five hundred more." Except I sing it with "bike" because. Seriously. I rode a thousand miles! My sore ass can prove it. 

It felt so good to accomplish a goal and I can't wait for the next one. We're on target to run our first 5k on November 8th. 

Perhaps the best part of Monday was when we got home and I found this package...

My crispy M&Ms! Nearly two weeks early! I was downright estatic. I danced the happy dance and earned a few weird looks from my husband. It's probably because I looked like this...

With this candy in hand, I'm happier than a pig in mud. 

What's the last goal you reached? What's on your to-do list?

That's a Good One

Last night, after Ryan and I watched The Desolation Smaug, we hunkered down and watched some tv. During one commercial break, we saw one for this product called Osphena and laughed so hard at one of the disclaimers.

As a little background for the product, it's for women who've gone through that later change in life but still want to do the deed. Yeah.

Well, as they were going through the "do not to take when" list, one of the situations was if you were pregnant. Now, if you've gone through menopause, chances are, you're not popping out kids anymore. Right?! 

You gotta love the commercials there are on television.

What's made you laugh recently? Any good commercials on! 

Edit: For formatting

Fighting Fair

I'm confident that everyone has taken a shortcut at some point. I'm also fairly confident that every couple fights. It's natural and every couple fights differently. But I believe you should always fight fair and never aim to be hurtful. You're fighting to resolve something, not make things worse. 

Like every couple, Ryan and I fight. Our latest one was on Tuesday, otherwise known as street cleaning day in our neighborhood.

I've been riding my bike into work so that we can make our 1,000 mile goal by November 1st. As I'm writing this, I have 30 miles left, Rye has 27. On Tuesday morning, in an effort to catch up to Ryan, who was 20 miles ahead of me, I rode my bike in to work confirming with him that he'd park the car in the backyard. That way we wouldn't get a ticket or towed. 

Later in the morning, I get a call from my dad saying the car might be in front of the neighbors house and it might have a ticket. I told him I'll call Ryan and see what happened.

Now, I knew that in the morning one side of the street is cleaned (the neighbors' side) and then in the afternoon the other side (our side) is cleaned. Ryan, having only lived there for two years now, didn't know. He also failed to see the sign he parked right in front of that said "NO PARKING TUESDAYS 9AM - NOON."

When Ryan finally answered his phone after my fifth call, I laid right into the issue. Five minutes later the call abruptly ended when I curtly told him to "pay attention" then hung up. 

At the end of the day, things like this aren't an issue. We fight to resolve things (although I'm not sure he'll ever pay attention). Once the fight is over, it's done. It becomes part of the filler for the day. At the end of it, we forgive, we move on, and we still love one another, because we fight fair. There's no leftover words of hurt or anger because we didn't throw them in the first place. 

It's not always easy and it doesn't always seem possible, especially when you're passionate about something, but try to fight fair. Don't fight to fight. Fight to finish it. Fight to move on. Fight to forgive. And always. Always fight for one another. 

Even when it's hardest, fight for your love. Because at the end of the day, it's just you two. Two of you, waiting for another morning. 

My Grown Up Closet

For as long as I remember, I've wanted a really fantastic closet. You know the kind? The ones straight out of a magazine, with pull out drawers, wooden hangers, and shelves for sweaters? It would also be a walk-in with fancy lights and a place for my jewelry. I settle for this...

To level set, when Ryan and I moved into our apartment we got three "reach-in" closets. We have a closet for coats (and everything kitchen related that can't fit in the kitchen) in the living room, a good size (about 8' long) closet in the "den," and then what I assume is a normal (3.5' long) size closet in our bedroom. If you're wondering how we manage all the stuff we accumulate (decorations, hobby stuff, etc), it's not well. 

After two years of having my closet in a separate room, I got tired. I told Ryan he was going to suck it up and deal and we were going to share a closet. Naturally, he wasn't happy that "his" space now had to be "our" space.

After I made him go through every single thing in the closet (and his dresser), made him put his fifteen pairs of jeans (um, what the hell?!) in his dresser, and moved my stuff in, I worked on my next "project closet perfection" phase. Wooden hangers. 

Because if I couldn't have a glorious walk-in closet anytime soon, I could at least have nice hangers that would last forever.

I priced them out, which holy cow ouch, and then asked for the gift cards for Wal*Mart for my birthday. That way Ryan wouldn't freak over the cost and I could have my grown up closet. 

I'm happy to state that, today, I switched the last of the plastic hangers out for the new wooden ones. Of the one hundred twenty-eight hangers I ordered, I have six empty ones. Six. Which would most likely be filled if 1) our joint closet wasn't jam packed or 2) we put laundry away right after doing it.

Now, I have a HUGE box of plastic hangers left awaiting a new home. I'm giving my mom a bag of one hundred five hangers, yes I counted. I gave thirty to my brother and his girlfriend. I just have this box left. 

And no, I didn't count them. But I did take the time to put them in color order. Because, these are my priorities. Fancy hangers and color order.

I'm not quite sure how I justified the hangers, but I'm pretty sure I used the word "investment." Next phase in project closet perfection? A light!

Have you ever convinced your other half that buying something frivolous unnecessary was a good idea? What was it? Have you been on the other side of an argument discussion like that?

Every Single Inch

I can almost pinpoint the exact moment I started to be self-conscious about my weight. It was at an amusement park where a vendor would give you a prize if he guessed one of three things incorrectly. You chose what he had to guess on, birthday, age, or weight. I figured the hardest one is weight, and I was looking to win, so I chose that. The saint he was guessed something like 135. Granted I weighed less in high school, but still. I stepped on the scale and it ballooned to over 180. 

I'm convinced he did something to the scale but since then I've compared myself against these rail-thin girls envying their bodies. 

Then, at the beginning of this year, I started seriously exercising and improving my overall fitness. Compared to the beginning of my "fitness journey" (which is a ridiculous name for it) I've dropped about twenty pounds. My weight's leveled off and I haven't seen it change much in the last two months.  

I can't be mad. I eat pretty much whatever the hell I want. I'm burning the calories riding my bike, running, or playing racquetball four to five times a week. I'd even go as far as to attribute some of the weight plateau to muscle. Because I'm definitely putting it on. My legs are leaner and my face is thinner. It's not like you can see this huge bulk, it's just toned. 

As a result, I love my body just a little bit more. I'm more confident in the way I carry myself. 

Then I hear awesome songs, like Meghan Trainor's "All About That Base" which reinforce the message that perfect comes in all types of sizes. So, while I may not be a size two, I'm still rockin'. 

Every Inch Is Perfect

Every woman goes through days where they nit pick areas they hate about their body. I'm convinced it's normal. At the end of the day though, there's no reason to not love every single inch of it. It's yours. To cherish, to love, and to change if that's what you want. I know I'm strong. I know I'm healthy. I know I'm loved.

What more could you ask for?

The printable is formatted to fit a 4" x 6" piece of paper and features the following fonts: KG Flavor and Frames, Pinto NO_04, Indy Pimp, and Autumn. I used textures from this pack: Bokeh Textures.

Tell Me I'm Not the Only One

I was venturing through Pinterest the other day and happened across a recipe that called for the biscuits that come in a can. You know the ones? Where you "unwrap" the can and then it pops open. The post also had this picture. 

It pretty much sums up how I feel whenever I open a can. I jump. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Maybe one day I'll win.

Splurging on Candy and Forgetting Books

When I turned 27, I asked for three things: a mandolin, Walmart gift cards, and Amazon gift cards.

I used the Walmart gift cards to buy myself a "grown up" closet with all wooden hangers. I also bought curtain rods that match our headboard...which sounds weird. Hopefully this picture makes more sense.

no, my bed is not usually made like this because the last one out makes the bed and that ain't me

For some reason, Ryan and I get a lot of comments from friends and family that we have a "grown up" apartment. It happened again when I said I wanted to buy wooden hangers, followed promptly by a, "but I don't even have a grown up closet!" These are my priorities...decorating my house.

That and books. Hence, the Amazon gift card requests. I go through romance books (don't judge me) like candy. On Friday night, I complained about being tired around 10pm, went to bed, and then stayed up until 2am finishing a book I had started that night. I finished another book this morning over breakfast. 

So how exactly am I forgetting books? Well, it's funny you ask. I happened upon a list of 18 things that aren't sold in America. Naturally, I had to see what I was missing out on. Number 17 on the list? Crispy M&Ms. My favorite candy, ever. 

Sadly, they stopped selling them in the US in 2005. When they brought back the blue bag of M&Ms and they were pretzel and not crispy, I may have cried. I may have cried a little. I went to Italy on a school trip in 2007 and found some. They were quickly devoured and I've been questing for them ever since. 

And then, this list, reminds me of how amazing these candies are and how I can't have them. Then I remember, I have Amazon money and maybe this Amazon money can buy me M&Ms. Well, I found them. I found these glorious candies. In a month, they'll be here. Direct from Germany. I. Cannot. Wait.

If I die in a month from sugar coma. Or someone poisoning my M&Ms. Just know, I died happy. Most likely with book in hand, mowing down crispy M&Ms. 

I hope they're as delicious as I remember. Update to come.

What's something you loved but came seem to find anymore?

My Love|Hate Relationship with Running

I've tried to get into running a couple times in my life. Starting something new, especially when you're terrible at it, is awful when you're not doing it with someone. I tried the C25K program a couple years ago, but Ryan wouldn't do it with me. I lasted three and a half weeks then gave up. I didn't have anyone to push me when I wanted to be a pansy. 

This year, Ryan really got into biking. So much that we dropped nearly two grand on fancy bicycles. Don't get me wrong, these things are banging, but ouch. 

First, it's the biking. Then it's our iron man friends. Urging us to do more. Train for a triathlon. "This is my chance!" I thought. I could get us into running and then I could be a "runner." I shit you not, I've wanted to be a runner. I wanted to be one of those people gliding over the ground like a gazelle. Eating up miles like they were pasta dinners. 

Together, we started the C25K program. Two days into it, you know the run 60 seconds - walk 90 seconds repeat, my iron man friend decides we should go for a run. Together. Seriously,  my third day "running," I went with a seasoned athlete. An athlete who had finished the iron man not once, but twice. An athlete who at one time was the top woman for off road triathlons in the North East. Yea, I went running with her. 

I. Wanted. To. Die. 

I struggled. Through four miles, I struggled. I ran, I walked. I finished. At the end, she congratulated me on my run. I countered that I didn't run, I didn't do what she did. I'm not a runner. She, a seasoned freaking athlete, complimented me on my pace (about a 13:40 minutes/mile) and said I'm awesome.

I had to step back and smile. How could I not be proud? I finished. 

Now that Ryan and I are in week seven of C25K, we're running for 25 straight minutes. Last night we ran 2.55 miles at a 13:51 pace (including the distance of a ten minute warm up walk). Not a record breaker by any means. But we ran. 

I look back to that third day and I'm so glad I didn't give up. Because now? I'm a runner.

Another Year Down, This One's Just Beginning

I celebrated my champagne birthday this past Saturday and I can truly say that I celebrated. I'm so happy about it I'm nearly delirious. 

For the past few years I've dreaded my birthday. I hated it. It was the worst time of the year, right at the start of my favorite season. 

I guess it's normal, women hate their birthdays because they're getting older? That wasn't my problem. I was competing against my "ideal" self and where I thought I should be by now. Married, kids, dog, house, picket fence. I was married, sure, but I didn't have the rest of it. I was in my mid-twenties and I hadn't accomplished nearly any of my life goals. I was way behind my mom and some of my friends. What was I doing wrong? Why could these people have the things I wanted so badly? Didn't I deserve them? It wasn't fair.

It took me a while, but I've worked through the vast majority of those feelings and questions. So much so, that I could enjoy my life and what I have accomplished.

I realized that in the course of my life, I want children. I'm almost positive Ryan and I will have them in about five years, when I'm 31-32. I want to own a house but I don't need to buy one in the next year. We'll save for the one of our dreams. If it doesn't have that picket fence, we'll build one. As for the dog, well, I'll enjoy being just us two for now. It's nice to be able to drop everything at a moment's notice and go do something. 

In this past year, I've focused on what makes me happy. Making my marriage stronger. Baking when the mood strikes. Cycling nearly a thousand miles. Running. I freaking run! Committing to run the first 5k of my life by November. Committing to do five triathlons next year. And working on my relationship with my mom. 

For the first time, in my most recent years, I'm so happy about my life and where it's going. I look forward to each and every sunrise. For the first time, I realize that I'm a work in progress. I'm not defined by one outcome or one experience. I'm this winding, roving road that's headed into a pretty spectacular sunset.