So this past weekend my first friend got married and as I was openly weeping during the ceremony, I realized I am old. It’s inevitable that once any type of shower invitation starts to arrive in the mail with some level of regularity that one will feel mildly uncomfortable, however it is more than a case of the wedding weepies that is making me feel slightly senior. For one I find myself often time using the phrase “kids these days” throughout the day. Although I don’t think that should actually count based on the fact that kids these day do warrant quite a the bevy of comments. So disregarding that, below is the top ten list of things that prove my senior citizenship or at least far more into the comfort of adulthood than I would prefer.
1.I essentially can hear nothing over the phone, or in person for that matter, and am forced after three unobtrusive “Whats” to nod and smile a minimum of four times a day.
2.I legitimately cannot stay awake after three glasses of wine. It is absolutely impossible.
3.Loud music actually does make my ears hurt. Even though I am deaf.
4.The other day I am pretty sure I found some balled up Kleenex in the sleeve of my sweater.
5.I have an intense affinity for BINGO and church potlucks.
6.I have a crock-pot for one.
7.I also have more aprons than pants.
8.My idea of the perfect night includes it ending with watching Frasier reruns on Lifetime.
9.With the cat.
10.I have a bowl of candies on my coffee table. And although there are no doilies surrounding it,I am told this still counts.
Not that it was really imperative that I prove how lame I am on via blog, but I am publicly vowing to amp up my street cred. Gang sign tutorials and meth dealer references would be appreciated.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Slow and Steady Doesn't Necessarily Win the Race
I have been joking for the past few weeks that the idea to do a triathlon seemed like a good idea before I realized that I hate swimming, biking, and running. Well two weekends ago was the triathlon and although the aforementioned statement might not be true, I definitely do prefer lazing about, drinking, and eating. I considered bailing on the entire event under the pretense that I was concerned about the weather, however ultimately I determined I was committed to my original goal and hence was forced to journey to Long Island to complete the race.
When I first signed up to take part in the triathlon, my vision was grand. I would train hours a day, drink power shakes, and sport sweat suits around town. I would wake up early to run and greet the day. I would eat granola and poached salmon. I would avoid alcohol and. That is pretty much where the plan came to a screeching halt. Summertime is filled with fruity pool drinks, sunset wine drinking, and happy hour margaritas. My plan to opt for vitamins over tannins was bunk. So I opted for a more moderate plan of action.
Soon my plan to transform my lifestyle itself transformed to be more of a plan to get through the day of the event. I settled into a surviving the day frame of mind. I became consumed with the thought of dedicating an entire weekend to the race; traveling outside of NYC and waking up far earlier than preferable. It wasn’t until race day that I reassessed once again. I decided to just go with the flow and have a good time. And though typically waking up before sunrise is not part of a good time in my life, I’ll try anything once.
So there I am, hours before dawn, in my Speedo, ready for a day of fitness and fun. Some parts were better than others, but it wasn’t until I was lapped on the bike trail by not only a Grandma, but also a 400 pound woman, a women who was practically crippled, and a passerby in a walker, that I realized how great the event actually was. What was a nuisance to me was really a miracle for many people. How could I complain about doing something that is not only much more of a challenge for others, but for some (clearly not present that day, but elsewhere), impossible? As I got further and further behind in the race, the more I was amazed by the performance of others and ashamed at my initial feelings towards the day.
So I might not be the fastest racer in the world, but it gave me a lot of time to think. Ultimately, I am happy I completed the race, not because I achieved the pinnacle of fitness I desired, but because it humbled me. It also reminded me of several goals I have that remain unaccomplished. The main one being the novel, for which I curtailed my blogging over two years ago. Rumor has it that November is National Novel Writing Month. And although I will not fully be taking advantage of the project by writing an entire novel within the month, I have decided that during this time, I will be finishing it. The challenge is on! And look out for the entire Brady clan on the triathlon course next September!
When I first signed up to take part in the triathlon, my vision was grand. I would train hours a day, drink power shakes, and sport sweat suits around town. I would wake up early to run and greet the day. I would eat granola and poached salmon. I would avoid alcohol and. That is pretty much where the plan came to a screeching halt. Summertime is filled with fruity pool drinks, sunset wine drinking, and happy hour margaritas. My plan to opt for vitamins over tannins was bunk. So I opted for a more moderate plan of action.
Soon my plan to transform my lifestyle itself transformed to be more of a plan to get through the day of the event. I settled into a surviving the day frame of mind. I became consumed with the thought of dedicating an entire weekend to the race; traveling outside of NYC and waking up far earlier than preferable. It wasn’t until race day that I reassessed once again. I decided to just go with the flow and have a good time. And though typically waking up before sunrise is not part of a good time in my life, I’ll try anything once.
So there I am, hours before dawn, in my Speedo, ready for a day of fitness and fun. Some parts were better than others, but it wasn’t until I was lapped on the bike trail by not only a Grandma, but also a 400 pound woman, a women who was practically crippled, and a passerby in a walker, that I realized how great the event actually was. What was a nuisance to me was really a miracle for many people. How could I complain about doing something that is not only much more of a challenge for others, but for some (clearly not present that day, but elsewhere), impossible? As I got further and further behind in the race, the more I was amazed by the performance of others and ashamed at my initial feelings towards the day.
So I might not be the fastest racer in the world, but it gave me a lot of time to think. Ultimately, I am happy I completed the race, not because I achieved the pinnacle of fitness I desired, but because it humbled me. It also reminded me of several goals I have that remain unaccomplished. The main one being the novel, for which I curtailed my blogging over two years ago. Rumor has it that November is National Novel Writing Month. And although I will not fully be taking advantage of the project by writing an entire novel within the month, I have decided that during this time, I will be finishing it. The challenge is on! And look out for the entire Brady clan on the triathlon course next September!
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