Runnnnnnn

Dear Reader,

I’ve started running again. Many of you know I’m a terrible runner. At least when it comes to running just to run. Who runs just to run anyways? I’m used to chasing a ball, putting it through/into a net, and then playing defense. There’s always been a field or court or some boxed-in arena for me to run in, never just an endless amount of road with no signal to start or stop.

Like I was saying, I’ve never been a runner. I’ve always just been a wannabe runner. Runners are patient. They can be alone with their own thoughts and go for hours on nothing but oxygen. I, on the other hand, can’t stand one second of my own thoughts and certainly need a good cheeseburger every now and again.

But running is free (even in New York!) and the weather is getting nicer, so run I shall. Everyday after work I walk my non-runner butt over to Central Park and run a specific loop. The first time, I couldn’t make it around without doing the—side-grab, hold on a second, I have the cramp of a lifetime—move that makes everyone around me think I’m actually a running fanatic who only stops in the face of extreme pain. This usually occurs around mile .5. Yes that stands for one-half of a singular mile. Did I stutter?

When you’re running to run, what else is there to think about other than how much pain you are in? It’s simply, one foot in front of the other. My brain gets bored.

Bored and distracted that is. So there I am, running along and boom, my favorite jam comes on my iPod. Next thing I know, I’m flailing my arms, popping and locking like I belong in the movie Bring It On. I don’t even realize I’m doing it. It’s kind of embarrassing but the rhythm gets into my soul and I just have to shake my tail feather. I was born to dance! This usually ends with me tripping over my own feet because my mind is focused on running but my body wants to get down with its bad self.

Like I said, I can’t stay focused.

Yesterday I had the fine privilege of running behind a man who smelled like warm, clean laundry straight from my mother’s dryer. What a wonderful treat. The good news is he stayed right in front of me the entire time. The whole time I was so grateful for his Snuggles laundry detergent scent as the wind carried it back into my nostrils. The even better news is that his love handles were bigger than mine, making me feel better about my pre-bikini bod. It was an all around win-win situation for me. I probably would have struck up a conversation but I was too busy sniffing him.

Taking on the loop has definitely gotten easier. Yesterday, right at the end (yes I make it to the end without the side-grab now) I got this burst of energy. Suddenly I was flying by the fresh laundry man and even went further than my normal route.

Following my run I attempt some lunges, squats, ab work and push-ups. This is code for, I sit in the grass and watch the cute guys play baseball. Nothing like a man in uniform.

Anyways…

Today’s GOOD WORD comes from my dad. This was in response to the fact that my internship hours at InStyle are coming to an end and I have nothing lined up at this point. Getting a job post-college has been the battle of my life. On the upside, at least I’ll have plenty of time to work on my running. I hope this speaks to you like it did to me.

The only people who never fail are the ones who have no ambition. Those people rarely get anywhere. If you really want to do something outstanding and challenging then you have to accept failure as part of the course and keep plodding along.

Summer 2005

The best part about a lifelong friendship is that when you get together, all the stresses of life—where you've been, where you're headed—fade away and you are in that moment completely, sharing in each others company as if no moment where ever more important.

Quarter Life Crisis

This isn't a dry spell.

I haven't lost my lust for your readership.

I have lots to say.

This guy just said it better today.

The Struggle to Find Your Place

Click. Read. Breathe.

Yes Please.

Summer sunlight and dancing. Yes please.

Land of Enchantment

New Mexico

I wish I was hiking right now.

Warmer Days Are Coming

Dating New York. Adventure #2

I’m not sure if I told you yet but I’m dating New York. We’re taking it slow. Day by day, letting the progression occur “naturally” (whatever that means.) I just got out of a four-year relationship with California and it’s been a difficult breakup. You see, I loved California very much. California did everything right for me. It loved me from day one until the very last day when I up and left it for “bigger and better things” –if there actually is such a thing.

California held my interest. We spent lots of time traveling up and down the coast, hiking, camping, taking long drives and staring out over the ocean. We were a match made in heaven; truly dedicated to each other.

Until New York came along. California was more attractive but New York was confident. Bold. Kind of tall, dark and handsome. I was attracted to New York’s swagger—a little cockiness, mixed in with some business suits and flashy skyscrapers. New York looked good. Strong. Successful. Ambitious.

So I left Cali for New York. But ever since I got with the concrete-jungle-where-dreams-are-made-of, I’ve still been secretly dating California, at least emotionally. It was as if I needed (still need) time to unweave the last four years of my life. As if my entire existence is wrapped up in hot summer days at Newport Beach or Sunday mornings at the Bagel Shack in San Clemente. Or Mosuns on Thursday nights, or Angel’s Stadium, Disneyland, BJ’s, Chapman, La Veta, a few girls, three guys and a shared apartment filled with all the drama your college heart could handle. Deep. Breath.

La Veta. Where all the best memories were made. Like the roof leaking or that strange man breaking in.

Yep. Emotionally I’m still there and probably will be for a while. However, physically, I’m here in the BIG Apple, living and loving the world of magazines. So in a desperate attempt to give New York my complete and total attention, I’ve decided to date New York. This means: getting involved. Exploring. Meeting new people. Trying new foods, saying yes when I’d normally say no…and so on and so forth. I still have Cali tucked safely in the back of my heart right now, never out of reach. But right now, I’m about living the present, not the past.

Last week was the start of this budding relationship and I went rollerblading along the Westside highway with Jaclyn. This week…. courtesy of Jaclyn yet again… are you ready for this?

Agreeing to be part of the New York Post’s dating column the "Meet Market.”

In a nutshell: Three men apply. I read their applications, look at their pictures and choose which lovely bachelor I want to spend a fun (and free) night out with. I’m not sure how much more I can say because I signed a lengthy legal document that intimidated the crap out of me.

I will say that yesterday I spent copious amount of time rollerblading through Central Park while a photographer rode along side me on his bike, taking 1.7 billion photographs. If you know me at all you know I’m used to being behind the lens. Not in front.

Behind the lens, reflected in my best friends sunglasses.

Regardless, I’ve made up my mind not to be one of those women who hate everything about her figure/hair/skin/blah blah blah. So I swear not to complain about how terrible these photographs are going to come out and about how they will be all over NYC. Cross my heart.

So, today I chose my guy. Stay tuned. The date is Friday. This whole thing is probably going to be a giant disaster filled with awkward moments. Oh. Joy. Here’s to trying new things. Here’s to dating New York.

Happy Mother's Day

1986

My greatest wealth is my mother's love.

She is the foundation of our home and the backbone of my life.

She is my rock, my biggest fan, and my friend.

I could never put into words just how much she means to me.

I am so very blessed to have such an incredible mother.

Happy Mother's Day Mom. I love you so much.

Thank you will never be enough.

Do BIG Things

I had this scribbled on a Post-it note I just found. Thought I'd share.

It would really suck to get to the end of this life and say, "Hmmm... I think I could have done better."

Life's short. You only get one go-around.

Do big things. Cherish the little things.

Love often.

And For My Brother...

...Michael.

Looks about right.

Had To.

I know, right?

COME ON!

Check out those arm rolls. Edible.

She Looks Great in Cheap Sunglasses.

Brad Paisley's song, "She's Everything" is the most romantic song ever. With Titanic's "My Heart Will Go On" pulling in a close second. I guess you boys know the secret to my heart now. Well, while you're at it, blue boxes from Tiffany & Co. work too. Just saying.

Dating New York. Adventure #1.

Outdoor activity. I love it. Gotta have it. I’m not sure if you’ve heard but New York City is a jungle…a concrete one. Outdoor activity consists of dodging yellow cabs, trying to avoid falling objects, and walking into oncoming traffic because you're too cool to stand up on the curb like the rest of the world. This is Manhattan.

No kayaking. No grass. No hiking. No beach. Central. Park. Doesn’t. Count.

So I’m adapting. Or as I’ve been putting it lately…I’m dating New York. I’m giving New York a real shot at winning over my outdoorsy heart. I’m letting NYC take me out, show me around and woo the crap out of me.

This weekend was our first official date.

So when I mentioned to Jaclyn, the co-worker who so selflessly told me about the dangling peanut M&Ms last week, (see two posts below) that I like a nice blade-sesh (a.k.a. rollerblading) from time to time, she explained that she had a sweet pair of wheels herself and suggested that we shred some gnarly concrete together this past weekend. So shred we did.

Whatever made me think I could keep up with a woman who eats hour-long spin classes for breakfast and half marathons for lunch, I haven’t the slightest idea. Take one look at her tone hamstrings and you’d think God himself chiseled them out of porcelain.

To start we went from W. 34^th to Battery Park. Feeling the burn. Feeling good. Keeping up. Wind in my hair. Sun on my face. Fresh breeze coming off the Hudson. Sexy, shirtless men all around…cough…I mean…hello New York, nice of you finally make an effort. I’m starting to really like you.

From Battery Park back to W. 34^th I’m doing my best to keep stride with Jaclyn but it’s not an easy task. Her stride is consistent, strong and steady. Her core is completely still and her legs do all the work. Meanwhile I look like I’m being dragged by neck as I flail my arms around in a desperate attempt to balance myself. I’m not sure why she makes it look so easy and I look like I am being electrocuted. I try to generate power from my washed-up, soccer playing legs while I keep my upper body steady. Meanwhile I notice runners are passing me. And kids on tricycles. Great.

Round two begins with me telling Jaclyn that she shouldn’t look back. “Just go” I say—more like beg. I’ll try to keep up but don’t feel like you need to slow your pace for little ‘ol me. Good God…just go. I’ll make it.

So from W. 34th back down to Battery Park, I don't stand a chance. I hange with her for 3.2 seconds before I'm asking myself why I can't breathe and she looks like she's floating down the path. She was long gone--weaving in and out of the crowded lanes like I do during the Christmas shopping mall rush.

From Battery back to W. 34^th (the final stretch)…well sort of—I didn’t make it there before Jaclyn was passing me on her way back up—so, like any diehard exercise enthusiast, I slammed into the railing, watched her fly by and quickly tried to pick up right behind her.

A few chuckles at my graceful stop and she was off again. This time I swear to myself she's doing it on purpose. I had to fight back the thought of kicking her in the shins when we were finished. How could she possibly keep such a fast pace? Was I really this out of shape?

Needless to say, I was trailing behind. My legs were fatigued and my eyes full of sweat. Up ahead on the path…a napkin….dun dun dun. In my delirious state of mind I think I can make it over the napkin. Yep, just roll right over it Kate. You’ll be fine. What’s that? Get stuck in your wheel? Come on—it’s a tiny, flimsy, napkin. Don’t be silly.

Next thing I know my right wheel jams and I’m airborne and contemplating who will be at my funeral. All I can see is the tiny Asian man in the oncoming lane, with a look of horror on his face. “Where will I land?” I think to myself. “Who will I land on?” A small child? A dog? This tiny Asian man? (Yes all of this is going through my mind as I am flying through the air. All because of a stupid NAPKIN!)

As I body slam the man in front of me, it takes everything in me to regain my balance without completely wiping out. I’m not sure who, what or where I grabbed onto but somehow I landed on my feet. I may have accosted a few innocent people but I survived nonetheless.

And who’s leaving their napkin on the path anyway?

I returned to the starting point to find Jaclyn sitting pretty, breathing just fine, without a drop of perspiration on her body and a smile from ear to ear.

I smiled. Unable to talk. Unable to move. Unable to breathe. Thighs and buttocks burning.

Took this with my phone before I lost feeling in my legs.

Throwback ...Way Back.

My Parents