Friday, November 20, 2009

The Bittersweetness of Life

I don't really know how to catagorize this week. Its been one of figuring things out for sure. Its been a week of celebrations, and goodbyes. A week of learning what I want, and just when I think I have it figured out, there is another decision to be made. Its been a very 'real' 6 days.

I am still in shock over last night's news. One of my dearest friends in the world is going to be a daddy! I am in love with this news. In this day and age with so many couples have trouble with infertility, a couple that loves each other and I love together is going to have a baby in 6 months. On the flipside of this, this news means that in one month they are moving -- from being 3 blocks away to a 3-hour plane ride. This news sucks.

Of course I am so happy for them in their new life, the fact they have each other to go through these changes with, and to know that two of my favorite people have found the one they want to spend 'happily ever after' with. Its exciting times, for sure. But it does make me sad.

We are all growing up. Faster than we want too. Sometimes in this adult playland its easy to forget that life is happening and passing each day. This place is the land of opportunity, and yet with so many opportunities to try, sometimes its easy to keep trying new things vs. being confident in what we want -- there is always just one more thing to do or check off the bucket list before we allow ourselves to rest a bit and be content with life.

When changes happen to those around you, it reminds you of how short life is. And there is no time like the present to follow your dreams, because tomorrow may not have time for a trip to India or time for that long run in Central Park, and you will always want those moments back. The difficulty of life is making choices, for saying yes to something means saying 'no' to so much else...But one day, you find that something that gives you new meaning, and I believe when you find it, 'yes' is the easiest thing to say.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Time For Me

As females, we love relating to other people. Whether its our girlfriends or boys, relating -- the back and forth of conversation, the sharing of time and ideas -- is what we revel in. That is what I revel in. I love having interesting people around, and I love ensuring they will be around for awhile -- almost to the detriment of myself at times.

It seems I am on another clean-out binge these days. This time in the male sector of my life. Its tough being single in a somewhat lonely city, as sometimes we cling to potential mates just to have someone vs. really wanting that person in our life. But over this weekend and this week, I realized that multiple faces in my life were just not cutting it. And as I bid them adieu for this reason or that, I felt myself opening up to something better. Because it is true, every moment spent with someone who doesn't provide what you want/need is time taken away from someone who might.

So I am flying solo again. And thankfully so. I had gotten so bogged down in dating, that I wasn't taking the time I needed for myself. And now I have that time back, who knows what will come. The universe rarely closes a door without opening a window, and I am excited and ready for what comes next.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Has Beens

Tonight I let myself do what I never do. I ventured past 'here' to 'then', and allowed myself to go along with a night that was presently happening but based on thoughts and feelings circa 2004. It was odd, meeting up after several years of " not meeting-up". Despite previous meetings and encounters that did not always end on the best note, there was still something between us -- whether that could be descibed as attraction, or joy at seeing a person from before, I don't know. Neither I nor my drinking buddy for the night knew what that meant.

Within a matter of minutes of agreeing to hang out on this rainy Friday night, old patterns and old roles began to play out. Me bringing the 'let's have fun vibe', he bringing the 'let's have fun my way' vibe. And as always was the case, we wash each other out. He interrupts my stories; I don't think his are funny. I find the silver lining; He just wants to complain. I am drinking my wine froom Spain; he is drinking a beer faster than the speed of light. Its just not fun. It wasnt' then, and it's not now... despite how easy it seems for two people who have known each other for 6 years to enjoy each other's company. With him, its impossible.

Somethings just don't change, even though time passes. At one point, I wanted this person to be in my life in a major way, but those days have long passed. Present day, I was open to creating a friendship due to the fact that we knew each other so long, but honestly, I think this guy is incapable of such.

And when words I was saying were butchered due to the entire bar screaming along to Michael Jackson and he thought I said something totally than I did, I couldn't even be bothered to explain myself. Because if I did, the night would end well, and there would be the option to hang out again. And why do that, when I know nights with him never reach higher than 'okay' at best? That's not the way I have been living this year, and its not okay to be fine with 'okay'. I have a better time alone!

So we parted ways, probably for the last time. And despite our history, I was more than okay with that.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

I ran a freakin' marathon!

There are few things I've ever done in my own life that I find impressive. Most things that I seem to accomplish are by happenstance or what I think is the right or fair thing to do. Its rare that I find my accomplishments remarkable.

Sunday was not that day. On Novemeber 1, 2009, I ran my first marathon. I am tearing up as I write this. :)

To some its 26.2 miles, big deal. To me it was something I said I would do, and I factored training for it into every week of my life since I first thought up the idea. I lived and breathed the idea that on November 1, 2009 I would wake up too early, board a bus bound for Staten Island (a far flung borough of NYC's five) and run all the way to Central Park. When November 1 dawned, I was ready -- mostly.

The week before the big race I had to go to Philadelphia for work to run a program at Wharton. If I was a trainee that would have been one thing. But I was the person with the credit card and responsible for picking up the nightly entertainment. There was no going to bed before 1AM during my time in Philly, and the final night our Global Chairman kept us all out until 3AM. When I arrived back to the city on Thursday I was exhausted. I drank too much. Played too much. And ultimately, was in no shape to run a marathon.

Friday my marathon prep was thwarted with a friend who needed help with final arrangements as he proposed to his girlfriend. (as a friend there is just no way you can say no) But I did make it to bed by midnight.

Saturday I had errands to run in preparation, carbs to eat, tshirts to find, registration cards to hand in. Plus, it was Halloween, the single day you DONT want to be living downtown in Manhattan. Every ghoul and goblin was out to get me that night. But I found myself asleep close to 10PM, after sorting out the time-change-semi-drama upon realizing I don't own an alarm clock.

The next morning I was ready. I woke up ready. Was in a cab for the Staten Island bus at 5:45AM, and was seated on said bus at 6:15AM.

The ride to Staten Island resembled scenes from Batman Returns. We were the only motors allowed on the road, like we were dangerous criminals being swept out to Staten Island. Yes, my imagination gets way ahead of me at times!

The weather is cold and damp. There are people camped out in sleeping bags. The smell of BenGay is in the air. Bagels are being handed out by the dozen, as is water and powerbars.

I find my coral, check my bag with UPS and head to the starting line. I can't believe I am going to do this.

When the gun does off, and Frank Sinatra starts singing "New York, New York", I know this is my race. And despite a twisted knee and a stop at First Aid and a few tears from running through the pain, it was just that.

I was amazed at the support of the crowd, the enthusiasm of the runners, and the beauty of my city. I ran my little heart out, screwed up knee and all. When I hit Central Park, I refound my stride, and when I saw the 400 meters to go sign... then 300... then 200... then 100... I raised my arms in victory as I fell across the finish line. I did it!

What an amazing feeling.

Then last week I was walking with a friend and he commented that he is a little intimidated about hanging out with a "woman who runs marathons". And I thought it was an odd thing to say and wondered who he was talking about... and then I realized he was talking about me.

I DID run a freakin' marathon. And yes, I am just a little bit impressed with myself. : )