a beautiful first

A little while ago, a few months back or so, I had really gotten into quite a groove with my running hobby.  In fact, I'd surpassed mileage I ever thought I would.  This sort of low self-expectation is not widespread and remains highly focused I'd say around the area of physical challenges. Mostly due to a lack of natural motivation to push my body (i never bought the whole mind over matter stuff) combined with a sneaky suspicion those sorts of records were just "not my thing", I was practically giddy to discover that, in fact, I do have it in me.  And by golly, my mind was wayyy over my matter to get the job done. 

kidddinggg. although I did cross the finish line, I only jumped in around mile 23 or so to support Hals (champion!)

 But it wasn't just about hitting new goals and reaching new personal limits.  It was therapeutic to spend an hour or more just making my way down the Charles River or around Storrow Drive, across the Mass. Ave bridge, while the city moved quickly on around me and I watched God create stunning sunsets to close the day.

BUT. As it goes, I stopped running for a while as I explored various new exercise strategies.  And although I can turn out a series of badass pushups now, the therapy and the sunsets are not finding their way to me in the basement of the very public (and smelly) gym I've been attending.  Which brings me to yesterday.  I put on my sneakers and decided to make use of the summer afternoon by hitting the pavement old school style, no ID necessary. Just me and my playlist of choice.

It did NOT go as planned. In fact, I suffered through the entire thing.  Mind you, the "entire thing" would have been my warm up jaunt a few months back.  There was nothing therapeutic; it was like I was being punished.  And their was no beautifully designed sunset just for me, but immense amounts of humid air that felt like I was running into hot walls the whole time.  Feeling frustration flutter up quickly to my throat at the amount of work I could foresee ahead of me to "catch up with myself" as it were, I decided to just let it go.  Nothing I could do now, but I knew I'd need a plan for next time, which bring me to today...


My plan to "get through" today's run was to look for things, beautiful, funky, funny, weird things as I ran to distract me from the actual act which seems recently to be a task, infuriating to my body. So I did. And it really worked.  


It started with a spectacular first for me...the sunset.  Though I've photographed quite a few and simply enjoyed countless others, I have never seen the kind of rays reaching upward out of the setting sun that I saw tonight.  Seriously, it was like a sunset that little kids create with the orange rays drawn like sticks coming out of the half-set sun.  Tonight, I saw a Sesame St. sunset. And it was good.  I think I even smiled "outloud".

About ten minutes later, I stopped dead in my tracks for about 10 seconds to stare at the most awesome, rustic-y, vintage-y Vanity that sat perched in a store window.  Now, that may sound crazy to some, but I have always had an affinity for vanities, but I've never actually had one.  I think maybe there is just something about them that absolutely feeds my little girl self who imagines sitting at one with a string of pearls on and a bright red lipstick standing at attention, just begging to be worn.  Of course the style of my preferred vanity has changed several times over the years.  I'm sure it started at something pink and later transformed to an iron one, but tonight, for the little girl that lives in this version of me, the rustic-ly white painted wooden one with the little plush green chair (to accent of course) was perfection.

(couldn't find one to do justice to the beauty I saw tonight, but this should suffice my eight year old self)

I also enjoyed spying on couples who sat in dazes with each other on their date-night out.  I love observing people, but couples in particular.  There is something so fascinating to me about the way people  who are in love or hoping to find love interact with each other.  I think it down right warms my heart. 

 (And since I didn't take any pics on this run of mine, I think it's a perfectly good excuse to repost this shot.)

(hah, can't get enough of this one)

Three's not a crowd. It's a party.

You know those nights when, without any plan at all, everything just comes together perfectly?  Well, that was Friday. I had no idea when I took a stroll to meet up with Halle for a glass of sangria at one of our favorite outside spots in the square, that we wouldn't part until the wee hours of the morning and we'd be joined by such a handsome fellow who balanced our girltalk with sensible, honest man-thoughts on the matters discussed....

Leaving behind a pitcher full of ice cubes with squeezed fruit chunks stained deep purple...we headed for our next stop: sushi.

Then a lovely stroll through city nightlife...until our next stop, where the photo shoot continued...

Despite the photographed expressions, Tom was having a blizz-ast, especially when we began to discuss the traits of Halle's boyfriend (who we're pretty sure she'll be meeting within the next 3-6 months). Oh...and he'll stand about yay-tall:

He's cute too. (and sporty of course).

Oh and there were text messages sent out to friends who we felt should share in the "splendid times" we were having...I wouldn't be surprised if some of Tom's quotes could be found on lastnighttext.com.  

Here are some of the really memorable ones that were received by loved ones:

"people get ready, there's a train acomin'. so much love and splendid times."

"don't play da haters. word to ur motha."

"eat.pray.love."

and my personal favorite of the evening, after which beer may have slightly spilled out the corners of my mouth from trying so hard not to competely spit it out in a fit of hysterics....

"a wet moose walks backwards at midnight...and an old dog whistles in his sleep."

WHAT?! so funny.

and no, i know what you're thinking, although there were probably fresh new cold beverages dripping their condensation down our fingers, this phase of the evening was totally prompted by what can't be described as anything other than the magical fun of the night itself. 

Just enjoying each other and laughing at the same.

Love those nights when everything just jives. 

Especially when one very special friend will be leaving soon for new adventures.

(here: dancing in the street to the don henley street band we stopped to enjoy, because afterall, All She Wants To Do Is Dance.)

...of course a special thank you to T-love for hanging with the girls and indulging our chatter.


      (This picture makes me feel like we're in a cafe in Par-ie, but for now, Cambridge works too.)

 xoxo.

the observer

i have a tendency (for better or worse) to notice everything.  As I've told Tom about this trait of mine, he took it up as a personal challenge to test the extent of my observations.  So this has led to random "pop quizzes" about some particular aspect of a recent scene.

The other day, we walked through the check-out counter at Roche Brothers as he bought something delicious to cook up for dinner and I continued to talk his ear off about my day.  As soon as we walked out of the store...

"What was the name of our check-out lady?"

Without missing a beat...

"Maria."            

All this to say, I feel like this a good spot to document some of the random, interesting, beautiful, or often ridiculous observations, and occasionally the reflections that follow, that I make throughout the day.

Here's two for today:

1. At the gym, there was a woman actually wearing crocs on the treadmill.  CROCS. i mean, really? I feel like she should get a refund because she's definitely not getting a workout.  The gym should probably pay her for providing entertainment to everyone else who was actually exercising...

2. While stopped at a red light (which is often where much of my surrounding ongoings are observed) I saw an middle-aged gentlemen who had the sort of physique where he happened to be carrying quite a bit of extra weight around his upper body but also had more sculpted, defined calves than most.  I mean, he looked like he could blow past Lance in the Tour de France.  But this look is way more common than one would think and I find it peculiar and a little amusing.

(images from Google)

Keep your eyes out...when you see it, I bet you will smile.

Puppy Playtime

I have an unfortunate tendency to feel stressed and tired at the end of the workday, (especially the ones of late, but that's a blog for another time).  So recently I've been open to finding new ways to unwind and let go of the  things I can't control between 8am and 4pm.  When I traveled down the road to a nearby dog park, which I used to frequent more regularly, I felt instantaneous rejuvenation.  There, I found Tom and Lucy on a puppy playdate with Jesse and his newest love, Randy.  With a breeze tumbling pine cones down the rocky path to the Charles river, where dogs were splashing around, my list of complaints dwindled rapidly...                

Lucy could chase a stick forever...and she did. 

         Back and forth...

and back...

When she was feeling really impressive, she started picking up what the other pups were leaving behind...

(not just a pretty face, this one.)

And now it's time to meet Randy...

even soaking wet, I just want to pick him up and stick my face in his.

Of course I couldn't help but notice the puppy love taking place off in the distance in an intimate little river scene that I completely invaded with my point-and-shoot instinct, which kicks in at the sight of anything even a tiny bit romantic...

Tasteful PDA doesn't bother me one bit. I think its great. If the spirit moves you, then that lucky other should know, (sometimes) especially in public.

So, I was fortunate to remember, on this particular afternoon, that blue skies, a slow river current and splashing dog friends were all I needed remind me to just let it go.

July 4th

I used to look forward to the 4th because it was a night when the old crew would all head down to the local park after a few cold beverages to watch the fireworks and maybe even take a walk down memory lane...

because is there really anything quite like watching the sky explode with color while you're lying on your back with your best friend on one side and your "secret" crush on the other?

well, there isn't when you're sixteen.

...but it turns out that ten years down the road, it actually becomes not only acceptable but preferable, to spend the holiday with mom, dad and brother...of course i should mention i got the best of both world's this year because my biggest crush came along  too...

Yes, I don't know if my mother thought the day would ever come when I'd choose to be at home instead of in the middle of whatever alternative was presented. I must be maturing.  It feels good.  Right where I'm supposed to be.

catching the perfect moments

that tend to pass all too quickly...

soaking in sunshine and a light rain, the cityscape with a waterfront view and fried seafood, while sharing lots of laughter was just...perfect.

Falling is always funny.

I fell. Today. On a brief lunch break to let the new puppy out of crated captivity, I landed myself in a pile of mud. The “fenced in” backyard, which she was supposed to be using for urinary processing, turned out to have a get-a-way made in puppy heaven. As I emerged from a quick pee break of my own, I felt the shock of that sudden surge of adrenaline when your body is screaming: “ACT NOW” and you feel tingly all over.

As Lucy bounded for the opening with only the kind of wildness a puppy could muster, I took off down the stairs hoping to catch her tail before she, and her hysteria, escaped through the chain link fence. Due to my haste, I caught up to the little rascal, but only at the price of sending my business casual self through a small mudslide. You know that kind of mud that soaks through your pants before you even know you’ve hit the ground?

With two booted heels firmly emerged in clumpy wet dirt, an increasingly moist behind and a puppy extended upwards in both arms, as if to save her from a similar fate, I looked like the muddy, more humiliating re-creation of The Lion King image with a little black lab Simba.

As the wetness seeped in, the realization that, had she actually made it through the small window she was headed out of, I could merely have walked out of the gated yard, to the neighbor's, to calmly bring her back to her homeland. Alas, my bodily response of fight or flight had not served me well here.

Despite this fact and the other looming issue that there would never be enough time to manage an actual change of clothes before returning to my workplace, the laughter was unstoppable. Mud clumps fell heavily from my attire as I walked into the house but the laughter only increased when I turned to see the damage in the bathroom mirror. Breathing actually became difficult and the puppy sat staring at me, perplexed at my amusement.

You should know that, yes, several people back at the office asked if I knew there “was something on my pants.” (as if I could somehow have smeared that much mud across my backslide unknowingly??) Some may say that it was karma for all the belly laughs I’ve known watching people tumble off ladders and trampolines on America’s Funniest Home Videos, but I think it was a pleasant reminder that falling is always funny, even when, and especially when, mud is involved.