One Year Stronger.

One week + three days ago, Kevin and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. 

Which means, one year ago from today, we were post-wedding, post-honeymoon phase, day three.  

I've spent the last couple weeks, reminiscing about that perfect day one year+one week + three days ago, when we exchanged vows and said our "I Do's" and "We Will's" and I can't help but think how far we've come.

Our wedding was truly one of the best days of my life, thus far in the "hands down, no question about it" type of best day.  

 

In those pre-marriage classes they talk about "weddings lasting one day and marriages lasting a lifetime" and "no matter how difficult or stressful planning a wedding may be, the true test comes after the planning is done, and the wedding is over."

Well, all those things are true and valuable perspectives.  But it wasn't until we were post-wedding, post-honeymoon phase, did I truly understand what they actually meant.

One year ago today, we were stepping off a plane (jet-lagged and tired) and stepping into our new life.  We were packing, moving, unpacking, cleaning out, throwing away (shhhh, don't tell Kevin I threw away some of his sacred college posters or memorabilia), organizing, and adjusting.  And for the record, nothing in that last sentence was by my definition, particularly fun, but after returning from the best day of my life + one week in Hawaii, I probably needed to readjust my "fun" definition to something a bit more realistic.

Don't get me wrong, trying to figure out how my stuff fit with Kevin's stuff, was...an adventure.  It was exciting because it was uncharted territory.  A new chapter in our book.  And it was Our book.  We were married and officially in this together.  But he had more "stuff" than I imagined, although I'm sure he'd say the same about me.  And we had less space than I imagined for all of our "stuff".  And in addition to meshing our "stuff" came our routines, our habits, who mows the lawn, who pays the bills, who remembers which day is trash day and puts the trash by the curb, and on and on and on. Luckily, you don't have to figure everything out the first three days... 

It was in that "post-wedding, post honeymoon" phase, day one, two and three, that we learned an even deeper meaning of the word compromise.  Of course, dealing with our "stuff" wasn't the truly important part of the whole deal, but sometimes it's in those moments when you learn more about yourself and your relationships and interactions with others. 

It was during the moments we were cleaning out the kitchen cabinets, sorting through towels, putting away wedding gifts, and cleaning through the closets in the house trying to find the perfect way to put the puzzle together that we uncovered new tidbits about each other that were undiscovered up until that point.  Granted, we had dated 7 years before we got married.  So I thought I knew pretty much all about Kevin, his habits, his favorite this or favorite that.  But one year later, one year and three days to be exact, after moving in together, I realize life is all about learning and growing and changing.  And it never stops.  Not after 7 years of dating.  Not after 1 year+1 week and 3 days of marriage. 

For example, in the last year, I've learned Kevin hangs all of his shirts right-side out, with the fronts facing the right side of the closet.  This was absolutely bizarre to me, which may come as a surprise to many since I appear to be somewhat of an "organization freak".  My closet, on the other hand, is filled with my clothes, inside out, upside-down, facing all directions.  Frankly, I'm just excited they are hung up.  But after the first load of inside-out shirts I put in his closet, facing the wrong direction, I learned, there's more than one way to skin a cat (or however that saying goes).  And not that it takes any more time to hang a shirt this way or that way, it was just never a concept that dawned on me. So, one year, one week, three days and ump-teen loads later, no matter who does the laundry, you can be sure that Kevin's clothes are always right-side out with the front facing the right side of the closet, and my closet is still the same as it's always been...messy & somewhat unorganized.

Kevin's also discovered some of my own strange habits, that of course, seem perfectly "normal" to me :)  For instance, it wasn't until I married and moved in with Kevin did I figure out that I never screw the lid on tight on anything...laundry detergent, toothpaste, ranch dressing, orange juice, milk, you name it.  None of it.  Of course I put the lid on, but not tight.  So consider that your warning if you come to our house.  Never.  Ever.  Grab anything by the lid because you will spill it.  Unless of course, you're lucky and Kevin was the last one to use it, then rest assured, he has put the lid back on tightly.  I've tried.  Really I have.  But this habit is so subconscious that I doubt it will ever be fixed.

People say the first year of marriage is the hardest.  Maybe they're right?  Maybe they aren't?  I'll let you know when Kevin and I celebrate our 50th anniversary. :)  What I do know is there are bumps in life.  There are roller coasters.  There are really wonderful times.  And times that make you feel like life is just perfect, not perfect literally, but perfect by our own definition.  And I would venture to say, we all experience these moments, in the first year of marriage and in the fiftieth year of marriage.

It just comes with the territory.

I ♥ NYC.

After our honeymoon to Hawaii last year, I was pretty sure we'd never quite experience as fabulous of a vacation as we did that week soaking up the sun, the beaches and the Alohas, for as long as we both lived...but Hawaii, let me tell you, the Big Apple just gave you a run for your sandy-beach money.  

Although our recent NYC vacation over an extended Memorial Day weekend may not have taken the whole cake, I must say, it was pretty freakin' fabulous.

From the minute we stepped off the subway on Thursday night Friday morning at 3AM local time (thanks to mother nature and the storms that delayed our connecting flight to Atlanta for 6 hours) I knew why "the city that never sleeps" was among NYC's top infamous nicknames.  Even at this hour, lights were on and...people weren't home, they were out and about.  

Laughing.

Carrying on.

Wide-eyed and bushy tailed.

And the best part, it was contagious.  We immediately caught it and quickly checked into our hotel room on the 31st floor of the W hotel and rushed back out to be part of the madness.

View from our hotel window

Unfortunately, our second wind was short-lived.  After one drink at a local Irish pub, we called it a night.  But the small piece of NYC that we tasted the first night, could only mean one thing...

There were four more days of delicious excitement and adventure just waiting to happen....after of course, a few hours of sleep.

The following four days were a whirlwind.  And Friday morning we discovered NYC in the daylight was just as fascinating as it was in the darkness of the night before.  People everywhere.  Hustling and bustling like everyone was on a mission.

The options for transportation are endless.  And the stories about crazy taxi-cab drivers in NYC, well, they are all true.  Although we had 7-day unlimited train passes, I insisted we experience the madness of NYC from the backseat of the yellow and black checkered cars.  And maddness it was.  Squeezing in between parked cars, cutting way too close to horse-drawn carriage rides and creating traffic lanes where I'm pretty sure you're not suppose to.  We tipped those crazy cabbies well.  Afterall, I'm pretty sure we were dead-giveaway tourists and therefore, they made it extra-crazy, just because. 

The honking horns, the rumbling of the subway, the squeaking of the bus breaks, the music on the street corners, the mobs of people everywhere, talking (most in languages that were foreign to me), yelling, laughing, multi-tasking on the subway between point A and point B... it was productivity at it's finest.  It's the feeling that big things, good, productive, important things are happening in the midst of this big city.  And I loved it. 

But we were just two among the millions of people.  Millions of people who speak thousands of different languages, lead different lifestyles, wear different shoes (hopefully comfortable ones!) and originate from different countries, states, or islands.  It was so intriguing... but I didn't crawl out of a box and show up in NYC...I know this sort of diversity exists, but to the depths that we experienced it in NYC was unlike any other. 

Our first stop was the financial district on Wall Street.

Just outside the NYSE

At the George Washington statue outside Federal Hall
(Federal Hall was home to the Supreme Court and Congress when New York City was the nation's capital.  This is also where George Washington took the oath of office as our first president.)

See... this trip also had educational purposes :)



And we also saw some really incredible architecture.  The buildings everywhere were not only as tall as you see in the movies, (probably taller) but also had the most intricate, details.

It almost makes you dizzy to look up at the very tallest one.  It's no wonder the sun has such a hard time shining down...




We stopped by the Trump Building to see Donald, but he was tied up in meetings all day and unavailable.  (SIGH...) maybe next time. 



Kevin also made me stand outside the Tiffany's store for a picture.  And only a picture.  I did not get to go inside.  Unfortunately, I was limited to window browsing only at this store.

We had one more stop before we left the streets of the high rollers, big investment risk takers and smokers (maybe I'm stereotyping here, but EVERYONE we bumped into (literally) on Wall Street was smoking.)  Must be the stress of their j-o-b. And with the really tall buildings, I was struggling to get a breath of fresh air...

The Charging Bull. 

The iconic image of the Financial District.  It's mean, fierce and unpredictable. 

It's Wall Street at it's best.



And apparently it's good luck to touch the 7,000 lb bronze animal... And so we did.  Along with the thousands of other tourists crowded around it, standing in the streets, ignoring the crazy cabbies, zooming by, swerving and honking their horns at us to "get out of the street."  Or I think that's what they were yelling...



Of course, no trip to NYC is complete without a visit to Lady Liberty.  Although we decided to avoid the millions of people, waiting in a forever-long line to take the ferry out to the statue, we had a great view from the edge of the water. 



And I also learned a little Schamberger history...  Apparently when Kevin's grandpa and his family ventured over to the US, there were some of his grandpa's siblings that did not come to the mainland, and instead were sent to South America. 

Turns out, we have some not-so-distance cousins living in Argentina! 



I've never felt so "American" as I did at that moment at the Statue of Liberty.  I felt like quietly humming the tune of "My country tis of thee...sweet land of liberty...of thee I sing."



And on that same patriotic note, our next destination was Ground Zero.  It was so humbling to visit the site where so many people gave their lives fighting for us.  Our freedom.  Our country.  Our everything that we take for granted every day.

The World Trade Center museum left me speechless.  The stories that were told throughout the memorial left me awe.

Awe that something so tragic happened right in that very spot.

Awe that someone could do something so terrible to so many innocent people.

Awe that there were some many generous and caring people, outpouring their love, support and prayers for people they hadn't ever met.

And awe that something so difficult could bring so many different people together.   And yet another reminder that nothing in life should ever be taken for granted.  Although that museum was filled with terrible, awful memories of a tragic day in US history, there was also a feeling of hope, love and healing happening there.  And I'm certain that latter was overpowering the first.

Ground Zero & the start of the new World Trade Center

The other "must-do" on our list was visiting the Today Show.

Rockefeller Plaza.

Unfortunately, we were much too late to find Al, Meredith or Matt hanging out around here...so I settled for the next best thing.  A life-sized picture of each of the popular news anchors.

But just because we missed the Today Show taping, doesn't necessarily mean we didn't get to make our grand debut on national television.

We happened to be strolling by outside Fox News studio and they were right in the middle of a live taping..

Now I searched EVERYWHERE on Fox News' website, but I couldn't find the interview they did with the former NYC mayor in the picture above...but trust me, look at that camera angle.  We made it on national TV!
Besides, Kevin's dad, who is the only person I know that watches Fox News faithfully, even saw us!

Although it's dark and difficult to see, we're standing in front of the United Nations Headquarters in NYC.

Grand Central Station

And finally, we closed out our first full day in NYC by raising our glasses in a toast to finally crossing off "VISIT NYC" from my Bucket List.  We still had 3 glorious more days of vacation ahead of us, but at that moment, I was just stoked to be sitting down, resting my feet and enjoying a margarita in NYC. 

Now this wasn't just any margarita. 

It was a Mamasita Margarita.  And it came highly recommended. 

Quite possibly the best margarita ever.

And just for good measure, in case you got caught up in your mama-marg and forgot you were in NYC, just take a quick glance over your left shoulder and you'll find they crammed as many people and tables as physically possible into the smallest area.  See that guy sitting behind me, our chairs were litterally touching...and I was scooted in! 

Real Estate and the Big Apple..Squeezing every last inch out of each square foot.

So you'll have to excuse the angle of the picture above.  Our waiter was standing on a ledge practically creating a camera angle directly above our heads.  Less than ideal, but it was a must.  If you ever go to NYC, you have to go to Arriba Arriba on 9th Ave.  And whatever you do, order the mamasita margarita. And if you're super brave, order 2.



Me completing my victory lap.  Mamasita Marg = 0 , Tricia = 1.

Unfortunately, the next morning, the score was tied up.  Marg =1, Tricia =1.

We spent Saturday morning in Chinatown and then had lunch in Little Italy. 

Great bargains followed by best pasta ever.



Me and all my goods from Chinatown. 

All I can say is... it was a thrilling adventure.  The articles you read online about the activities that go down in Chinatown, they are real.  It actually happens just like that, no exageration.

Behind every good woman, who adores shopping, is a very patient husband.


Unfortunately, we couldn't stay in Chinatown too long.  My bags were way to heavy. 





Later that day, we walked to Central Park.  We had initially planned to just walk around when we got there, but then I heard it was 6 miles and given the amount of walking we had already done that day and the previous day, there was absolutely no way I was going to make it 6 miles.

And so we did what anyone would do...rented a ride in a carriage-like cart on the back of a bicycle, pedaled by a guy with really strong legs.



As hard as we laughed at ourselves, it was honestly the best way for us to see Central Park since I wasn't really dressed to jog or walk or ride my own bike through it.

Plus the guy that drove us around shared all sorts of random pieces of information about the park and the city.

In front of the fountain at Central Park

And if you've ever seen 27 Dresses with Katherine Heigl, remember when Jane's sister Tess plans her wedding at the boathouse where their parents were previously wed?  Well, this is the infamous boathouse in Central Park...

Inside this tunnel at Central Park

Also on my bucket list was to attend a Broadway show.

Although Kevin was less than excited about this, it turns out he actually enjoyed it...a little bit.  Well, let's just say it wasn't pure torture.

We saw Chicago starring Christie Brinkley.





And because Kevin endurred two hours of singing and dancing, I agreed on a baseball game.

Unfortunately, the Yankees were out of town.  So we settled on a Mets game. 

Sorry Mets fans...I admit it, you were second choice...but for the day, we were huge fans.






This was the view from our first seats...they were cheap.

As a result, we were really high up.






But given the fact the Mets aren't really that good (and they aren't America's team), there were some empty seats in a section closer to the field and in the shade, and so we moved down and gladly became the proud owners of seats 19 & 20 in section 110.

In Times Square after the Mets Game...Last night in NYC.

And because it was Sunday, this could only mean one thing.  Tomorrow we'd be on a jet-plane, destined for good ol' Kansas. 

I just hate it when good things have to come to an end.  But they do.  

Monday morning when we were packing up our suitcases, I was giving my usual "I don't want to go home...do we have to?" speech.  The same one I gave when we left Hawaii...

And so, I went out on a limb and suggested..."Maybe we should move here?  Just for a year or two and then move back to Kansas City?  It could be fun...adventurous...change of pace..."  Kevin let me babble on for a minute or two and finally interrupted me and simply said "I don't think so."

And that was that.  No questions about it.  He's probably right.  We belong back in Kansas.  But it was good to dream for a minute. In another life, maybe someday I would have became a "local" in the Big Apple. 

It's hard to sink back into your "normal" life...especially after such a high-energy vacay in NYC.  There's not really any chance to sink in slowly and enjoy the "in-between."  One minute your in NYC, the next you land in Kansas City and all of a sudden, you can see for "miles", look left and then right and not see really tall buildings crowding your view and one deep breath of the really fresh air and you know, you're back at home.

I did it.

I did something this weekend I never thought I could would do at this stage in my life.

I ran a 5K.

Ran as in the whole darn thing. 

Granted I ran track all four years in high school and even go for the occasional jog every now and again, so I'm sure there's someone out there reading this that is thinking "seriously, just a 5K?  You're getting worked up and excited over running just 3.1miles?"

Yes.  As a matter of fact, I am.

Because I know there are lots of you out there that run 10Ks, half marathons, and full marathons (for the record, I still think ya'll are crazy) so I'm sure a 5K doesn't amount to much in some books.

But in my book, I just won the Boston Marathon.

I was the first one through the finish line, red ribbon untouched by anyone but me, hands stretched up in the air.  Techincally, no, this did not happen.  But in my head, it did.  Because the one thing I learned was sometimes our biggest competitors in life aren't the people next to us and it's not the stopwatch timing every second of every step.

Sometimes, it's the person in your own shoes.

And the feeling of overcoming that fear of self doubt, well, that's equivalent to winning the Boston Marathon.

Six weeks ago, in a weak moment, I agreed to sign-up.  I knew it would be good for me physically obviously, but also mentally.  Because I had no idea how I was ever going to run three very long miles.  I hadn't continuously ran over a mile in.. I couldn't even remember when.  In fact, the only time I can ever remember running a 5K was with my cousins and brother, the summer of my 5th grade year, over the 4th of July weekend when I was ... well in 5th grade.

So you can imagine the number of "hurdles" I had put up in my own head. 

My mind had a million reasons why I shouldn't or couldn't do this, but nope.

I still signed up.

And I signed up with 3 goals in mind:  Complete 6 weeks of training.  Run the whole race.  Feel as though I had tried my very best.

And after six weeks of training/running faithfully each week, I did it. 

Those cheesy sayings, well, I have to admit they are right. 

You can do anything you put your mind to and I must say, it's pretty self-satisfying and it feels pretty darn good.

Finally.

Spring, finally.  You made it. 

We've been waiting forever...so glad you could join us!

And in honor of your appearance this weekend, we dove in head-first and soaked up all of the lovely warm weather, every last drop.

The weekend started with a group of friends...new friends, old friends and even friends we hadn't seen in years, having drinks on the patio of the Brooksider, celebrating a birthday and the ending to another week of work.  But when the night called and the weather got chilly, we moved the party inside and thanks to The Magnetics, (the live band that was surprisingly good), the dance party soon followed. 

It's outings like this one that still leave you smiling the next morning, remembering all of the funny stories that were told, all of the funny things that happened, and all of the memories that were made.  After nights out like this, I catch myself reminiscing about the good 'ol days at K-State...the Thursday nights out with the best of friends a girl could have, followed by the mornings after, spent laughing and remembering all of the details from the night before. 

Although Thursday nights out these days are a rarity, those memories from college, are a reminder that life goes by so fast.  You gotta soak it up.  Every moment, every single one of them.  In the blink of an eye 4 years 5 years (due to a last minute change of major...haha) goes by like that and years later, you are back visiting a good friend and you can't help but smile.  How ironic life is.  Because across from you and your husband, sit her and her husband and their precious baby.  In the same booth, at the same bar (which happens to be a favorite amongst our group of girlfriends), where memories were created, just a few years prior.  Isn't it funny.  Who would have thought, a handful of years ago, while we were sitting there in that circle shaped booth laughing over a few pineapple beers (which by the way have been renamed to something completely odd...like "a nancy" or something?) that we'd look back one day and be all "grown up"?  But it happened.  People grow up.  We change.  We have to move, literally.  Across the state, across the US, or across town.  But friendships, those that are true and meaningful and what life is all about, remain constant.  And I am grateful for those friendships.

Ok, I digress.  Off topic much?  This  was supposed to be is a light-hearted post about SPRING...Soooo, Friday night was a blast.  And just the right dose of fun to start our weekend. 

Saturday morning, I painted my toenails, another "welcome spring" ritual in my books.  Some of you may know that I am a procrastinator by all definitions when it comes to painting my toenails.  I just don't like to do it.  And winter-time/boot/closed-toe shoe season, is the perfect excuse to let the fresh coat of toenail polish fade off itself.  I'm guilty.  But it was time to "un-winterize" my shoe wardrobe, which meant, painting my toenails.

Nothing says hello spring like a fresh coat of red/orange polish in a pair of sandals or better yet, barefoot in the yard.

And even one better is this sweet little number I scored this weekend.  Remember when we were 5 years old and had a pair of these??  Meet the newest addition to my shoe family...Silver Sparkly Jelly Shoes.

Hello summertime.  And just to reconfirm my purchase, I was wandering around Home Depot on Sunday (yes, I was in Home Depot all by myself since Kevin was out enjoying the weather golfing) looking for one of those tractor sprinklers, and although I failed on the sprinkler front , I did overhear some girl begging her mom for a pair of shoes just like mine.  Oh yeah, did I forget to mention she was like 7?  Oh well.  Some styles are just...hmmm what's the word... timeless. :)

Kevin and I also experienced the Farmer's Market at the River Market this weekend for the first time.  We invested in a couple of herb plants... dill & cilantro.  We also bought the best asparagus and little red potatoes, which have already been cooked and devoured.  Yum. 

One thing lead to another with the herb plants and I decided it was time to get out my "green thumb" for the summer... so I while I was at Home Depot looking for a tractor sprinkler, I went a little overboard, and also got some flowers to put on the back patio and the front porch, a hanging plant, and to spice up our summer BBQ's, a cherry tomato plant and jalapeno plant.  If I was a betting woman, I'd guess not all of them are going to survive the summer, but it will be fun to try, so here's to beating the odds!

It's probably safe to say we spent nearly all weekend outside, which meant I paid little attention to the pile of laundry calling my name from inside the house.  And my original plan was to clean windows/blinds/the whole 9-yards too this last weekend...but spring came, and got in the way.  Oh well, I'm not complaining.  The windows, clean or dirty, will be there next time.  And although it's probably not ideal to clean windows on a "rainy day", it will just have to do.

So take my lead, get outside.  Bask in the sunshine.  Soak up the spring weather.  Soak up life.  Every minute of it.  Enjoy the moment.  Live it up.

If You Give A Man a Mower...

If productivity was defined in trash bags, this weekend, we would have been 17 bags productive.

Even though we bagged 60+ mulched trash bags full of leaves last fall, there was still another whopping 17 bags worth in our yard, along the fence line and filling the bushes.  And at the end of our hard day's worth of work, we had those 17 bags neatly stacked, stuffed too full, too heavy, sticks tearing through, lined against the side of the house.  Productivity at it's finest if I say so myself.

But in addition to our yard that wasn't quite ready for spring, there was a big green "problem" parked on our back patio.  Yep, we had another task on our hands this weekend.

Enter the John Deere mower.

Now the mower gets defined in the previous sentence as a "problem" not because it doesn't run, not because it doesn't make mowing our yard a thousand times faster, not because it doesn't clean up leaves and sticks twice as fast as ever before, but because it's 3" too wide.

3" stood in between the mower on the back patio and the mower in the shed.

So, one thing lead to another and looking back, at the end of it all, I've discovered how much we got accomplished.

If you give a man a mower (especially one that is 3" too wide to get into the shed)...

He just might decide to widen the opening on the shed...

And until his real help arrives, he just might convince his wife to come outside and give him a hand...

But after he coerces her outside, he'll probably decides she asks too many questions and gets way too technical about details that don't matter when your just cutting a wider opening in the side of your shed... 

So he'll kindly mention that the yard still has some "left-over from fall" leaves in it and it might be nice if we could get the yard cleaned up for spring...

And since she's a sucker for spring, BBQ's with friends, enjoying a glass of wine outside, and attempting to fill planters full of flowers, she agrees and goes to find the leaf mulcher, rake and trusty gardening gloves...

And when he gets a second set of hands to help with measuring, cutting, sawing, and nailing, he'll probably realize the wood around the bottom of the shed, in some spots, is rotting... 

So he decides while they are fixing the shed door, he might as well repair the bottom outer walls with reinforcement boards...

And after the sides are reinforced and the opening is widened by just a few inches set on swinging hinges, the mower is pulled in... 

But when he pulls the mower in, he just might decide to clean out the shed, because after all, they haven't used those silly garden-tomato-wire-things since they've lived here and let's be honest, they can't get much grass to grow, let alone tomatoes and corn and veggies from a garden... 

And after he cleans out the shed and swings open the hinges he pulls the mower in but realizes the newly hinged mini-door and the original big door don't have a tight seal. 

And after he's just cleaned out the shed, the last thing he needs is little critters calling this place home...

So he just might decide to replace and repair the latches on the shed...

And then once the mower is in the shed and doors are sealed, he steps back and admires a job well done... 

Meanwhile, he'll probably decide that his wife, although she's working way too hard for a Saturday, will never get the entire yard cleaned up because as great as the leaf mulcher is, it just doesn't compare to using the Deere to clean up the leaves...

And there's absolutely no way on this green earth she's allowed to drive the Deere.  (And he's probably right with that assumption as she'd probably drive the mower through the fence and into the tree in front yard).

And so, he'll get a second wind and help his wife finish bagging 17 bags of mulched leaves and sticks... 

Then, finally, they'll stand back to admire a day's worth of hard work and accomplishment... 

But while they're staring at the "clean-spring-ready" yard, they'll notice the severely bare spots throughout the yard...

So he'll decide to make a trip to the local Grass Pad for some grass seed, especially designed for growing in shady areas and fertilizer...

Then they'll realize that now the Deere is parked in the shed, there is room on the back patio for patio furniture... 

And lucky for them, they'll probably find the perfect set to add to their patio...

And so the story goes.  One thing lead to another and before you know it, the mower is tucked away in the newly renovated shed, the yard is cleaned, seeded and fertilized, and the newest addition to the back patio is set up and will be perfect for enjoying spring and summer evenings outside!

Unfortunately, the man and his wife will probably wake up the next morning and realize they pulled every muscle in their back, arms, hands and legs and spend the next several days complaining of how sore they are, all because the man got a mower.

Healthy Apps and Scratchy Legs

When it comes to working out, motivation is E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G.

If I don't have some sort of motivation, I usually find seven-hundred and fifty three "good" excuses to avoid it.  Last year, motivation was easy to come by.  It was a big, fluffy-but-fitted, strapless, white dress and a daily countdown to June 12th.  Every workout was neatly X'ed on the calendar on the fridge.  The "X'ing" thing was a visual reminder that I needed to workout and it was also self satisfaction to finish a workout and put on X on the date and then look back and see a whole week with lots of X's on it.

Post-white dress motivation has been a bit more tricky, so needless to say, the calendar has more spaces between X's than I'd like to admit.  Up until lately, Jillian Michaels has been my trainer/motivator of choice.  We have a love/hate relationship.  But recently, I just have not been motivated to pop in the DVD and give her my time, attention or 100% effort.  Some people suffer from yo-yo dieting, I think I am a candidate for yo-yo workouts :) 

There is one workout that I has remained somewhat constant in my schedule...and that is my yoga classes.  Now this could have something to do with the fact that my classes are pre-paid and have to be used up within a certain amount of days/months, but it's also because I really, really love it.  It's good for the soul and good for the body.  When I was first introduced to yoga, I thought, "this can't be that hard.  It's just a bunch of stretching and balance stuff."  Well, turns out, yoga makes me sweat.  It's actually much harder than it looks.  It pushes all of your core muscles, requires good balance and makes you more flexible.  Not to mention the fact it helps you calm your mind and find your internal sense of being.  It's intense and relaxing, all at the same time, if that's even possible.

In addition to my normal yoga workout though, my recent motivation has stemmed from 2 new apps on my phone.  Let me introduce you to motivation #1 and #2.

Motivation #1:   My Fitness Pal
It's an online/electronic calorie counter and food and exercise journal.  It's super easy.  You type in what you ate and it calculates the calories.  For example, you type in wine.  It gives you literally a thousand variations to select from to ensure you're calorie counter is as accurate as possible.. merlot, cab, shiraz, pinot noir, etc, etc etc.  Then based on which variation you had and the amount you consumed,  you select it and add it to your meal (breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack).  You can also keep track of how much water you drink and my favorite is how much you exercise.  So you can enter walking- 5.0mph and 40 minutes and it automatically calculates that you've burned 331 calories.  Simply amazing.  Better yet, it then gives you a 331 calorie "allowance" in addition to your daily calorie intake.  I also find it interesting/shocking to see how many calories different foods actually have.  Like, for example, a glass of wine.  5 oz glass of merlot = 123 calories.  And to add insult to injury, I'm pretty sure my glasses are not poured at the 5oz level :)

Bottom line, I am motivated by this easy to download little app on my Droid.  (You can also sign up on their website...it's free...if you don't have the app on your phone).  It's super easy and convenient for me at the end of the day or throughout the day, to recall what I ate, drank and every minute I worked out and enter it in.  It will make you think twice about sneaking that second glass of wine... or if you're like me, it will encourage you to get moving so you can add a few "extra" calories to your daily allowance so you can enjoy that second glass of wine, guilt-free!

Motivation #2:  Map My Fitness
It's a combination of my spring fever and my lack of enthusiasm for Jillian Michaels that has been pushing me out of the house to get some exercise.  (with the exception of today and yesterday due to the rain and freezing cold, "it could still be winter" reminder from mother nature).  One of the 753 excuses that I have about running/walking outside is I never know how far I've ran/walked.  (Disclaimer, I think I'm slightly behind the times on this one because I'm pretty sure you can buy something that straps to your arm or leg and tells you how far you've gone.  However, due to my yo-yo workouts, I hesitate to purchase anything related to working out for fear I'll stop using it in 3-6 months).  So, you can imagine my excitement when I discovered this fine little app.  (Also on my Droid and also free).  So scratch the 753 excuses.  We're down to 752. 

I just started using this little gem about a week ago, so I'm not completely familiar with it; however, I do know you basically push start on your phone, put your phone in your pocket and start running.  It maps out the route that you take, how many minutes you've worked out for, your average and current speed and your average and current pace.  Best of all, it also tells you exactly how far you've jogged or walked.  And it stores all your data so you can, hopefully over time, get faster.  And one more better, it provides you all of the necessary information you need to input into Fitness Pal (motivation #1 above) to calculate the calories burned.

So for now, I've pulled Jillian out of the DVD player in the living room, and put her back in the case.  Now that spring is in the air and I've got new motivation downloaded on my phone, I can't resist getting outside and taking in the fresh air.  But that leads me to the second half of this post.  One of the 752 reasons excuses I identified above... 

Meet reason #539:  Itchy. Scratchy. Legs.  Before you get completely weirded out, I googled this so-called condition, and it seems relatively common.  Seriously, it is.  The symptoms are pretty basic... when I run, my legs get scratchy.  I literally laughed out loud when I read the diagnosis and treatment.  Turns out, the most likely reason your legs itch when you run is due to "long periods of inactivity".  Great.  I'm guilty as charged. 

Technically, (based on what I read) the skin is not itching, rather it's inside the actual limbs.  Apparently there are millions of tiny capillaries inside our muscles which expand rapidly due to the demand for more blood that is brought on by exercise. When you're in good shape, the capillaries remain open, allowing for maximum blood passage, but when you're not so active, they tend to collapse, only allowing for minimal blood passage.  So, the rapid expansion of these vessels causes adjacent nerves to send impulses back to the brain which are interpreted as an itch.  Take it for what it's worth, it's just what I read on Google.  But I guess there's only one way to find out.  Run more.  Seems simple enough.

Who knows how long these tactics will actually work as my daily workout motivation.  But for now, I'm going to milk them for all their worth and squeeze every last drop of motivation out of them. So cheers to getting motivated, and even harder, staying motivated! 

February..What?

It's a good thing, dear friends, that "blogging twice a week" wasn't at the top of my New Years "I WILL" list.  Because, if it was, I would have earned myself a big fat F.  I'm not really sure what happened??  Apparently, I went into some sort of hibernation mode from "Our Not-So-Shabby Life", relatively speaking of course.  I could give you the list of all the standard excuses, such as 1) "things at work are super-crazy busy", 2) "February is a short month", or 3) "life in general is busy", but all of those excuses sound a little lame.  Because at the end of being busy, we should at least have something to show for our efforts.  And as it turns out, we do.  February was a fun and accomplished month.  I just didn't get around to blogging about any of it.  But, without further adue (however that word is actually spelled), here I am blogging world, back in action!

Turns out, February has always been one of my favorite months.

I guess it doesn't hurt that it's also my birthday month.  And on a side note, we had the best little birthday bash a girl could ask for.  Nothing too crazy... but just the best group of friends getting together for good conversations, some blue margaritas, homemade martinis, a make-shift game of craps on the kitchen table, 90's music playing from the TV, and lots of laughing.  I love birthdays.  Just another good reason to get together, especially in the heart of hibernation.  And birthdays give us the opportunity to reflect.  Reflect on life.  What we accomplished in the last year, favorite memories, tough times we survived and moments we'll never forget.  It's also the perfect opportunity to look ahead.  Get a sneak peak of the pages to come and determine what's on our wish list for the next year in life.  My list, my next chapter, one of the last few years of my twenties, well, my list is big.  I've got my sights set high.

I also consider February to be winter's one last "hoorah" before it's officially spring.  And now that it's 2 days into March, I'm officially diagnosing myself with Spring Fever.  I'm itching to bust out my spring wardrobe, BBQ hamburgers for dinner (although we occasionally do this in the winter, but it's just not the same when you have to tip toe on the patio through the snow in the cold  to get the burgers off the grill), try out my green thumb and plant some flower pots outside (actually we need to do a whole lot of landscaping outside), meet friends for happy hours on Friday afternoons on the patio of our favorite spots, and just open the windows and let the sun shine in!

Aaahhh...spring.  It's just so, refreshing.  Energizing.

Makes me wanna do something great.  Something productive.  Something like... clean out my closet.  Go for a run.  Sit on the porch steps (although that's not that productive, it qualifies as refreshing).    Redecorate (I've already started a few small projects and got a couple ideas under my belt, but more to come when I actually kick my Martha Stewart rear in to high).  Move the furniture and clean out those little dust bunnies hiding underneath...the ones I saw the other day under our bed were atrocious.  Scary like "you're afraid to reach under the bed and rescue that missing shoe or sock because a dust bunny might latch onto your sleeve."  But cleaning isn't really all that fun.  So for now, I think I'll save those dust bunnies for a rainy "spring" day and meanwhile, I'll be savoring these moderately warm days and anticipating the even warmer ones that are sure to come.