Sugar Free June

That’s right, for 30 days I will be sugar free with the added bonus of removing carbonated beverages...more specifically, caffeine, from my diet. Before everyone goes crazy, rushing to remind me that it is impossible to be entirely sugar free let me clarify: I have removed "junk" sugars from my diet but maintaining natural sugars like fruit as well those incidental sugars in bread, etc.

Why on earth am I doing this? Well, good question. I figured since the 5k is over (which I totally ran in 42 min) I needed another goal which would increase my overall health and happiness...and give me more bragging rights. I’m looking to purge the system, shock the body into a more efficient processing machine and stimulate more weight loss.

Even with all these excellent reasons, what it really all comes down to is that 2009 is a year of conquering for me. I conquered Ireland, a 5k, some heavy reading and now it is time to tackle sugar and caffeine. Once I finally decided on them, my first few goals ended up being fairly reasonable to accomplish and sustained a high yield of gratification making them extra rewarding. I’m hoping June will continue on this path of amazinginess.

Today is sugar free day 4 and it is has not been easy. There have been incidents of severe headaches, a bit of drool, a tear or two and some mild hallucinations. It’s true, I knew it was going to be rough when I mistook a piece of orange paper for a Reese’s cup and wanted to devour it. No fear, I did not. Instead, I have replaced my normal sugar/caffeine intake with an excessive amount of peanuts. July food ban: peanuts.

Anyway...it is a pretty awesome feeling being able to knock out even a few things in life you either want to get rid of, overcome, or finally accomplish. The initial decision and accompanying challenge is extremely empowering, invigorating, inspiring and yet it can still be slightly scary. Change is good but change is change so expect some growing pains such as ridiculously sore calf muscles or caffeine withdrawal headaches and become BFF with Ibuprofen. But in the end, running through that finish line, it is totally worth it.

I’m not sure what will be next on the list after teaching sugar a lesson but one thing is for sure, nothing will stop me from making 2009 a year for the history books. Hey December, watch out – I’m already punching June in the face!

Ok 5k

Once upon a time I was quite the athlete. I was a ribbon-carrying member of the district track team for the 100M relay and shot put. I also held the school record for unchallenged serves on the volleyball team. Sure, I was 14, but still, all facts. Now, doubled in age (but certainly not height), I find myself searching for that long lost athlete somewhere deep in my genes. For years I’ve wanted to run a 5k, but soon after, the reality of actual running sets in and I let it go. This year is different because, this year, I’m actually going to do it.

There have been numerous voices cheering me on during this physical challenge, among them might be a desire for a rocking body, but in all seriousness it is more about how this accomplishment will stand as a visible defeat of a very old inner battle. A few weeks ago this 5k seemed like one of the hardest physical things I could ever do and honestly, not really even possible. Just thinking about running for more than 5 min straight made me laugh, but then again I never really tried it.

However, along with the recent realization of my ever constant daily dog-paddling came the determination to do those things which for so long I cast aside as just too hard. With this renewed passion and determination I pushed myself to work harder every single day and just two nights ago I ran two entire miles without stopping. It is a true spring miracle.

Now, being just a little over a mile and 30 days away from my goal, one thing is perfectly clear, I’m blowing past more hurdles than I ever imagined and nothing can stop me. Not only am I indestructible, but something else rather interesting happened while tackling this personal challenge. Several of my closest friends joined me without request or hesitation. I can not tell you how amazing it feels to put on your running shoes, head out the door to stare that track in the eyes only to be met with 6 smiling faces to run right there with you, side by side. What a precious gift! (I might have gotten a little teary-eyed…maybe)

So, here I am, running toward that finish line with fire in my feet, eyes and heart. By this time next month I will be standing on my own personal podium to claim that trophy…after I punch that 5k right in the face. He will never see me coming. Run Red, run.

Emerald Isle

About two weeks ago I was standing on a street corner in Killarney, Ireland watching a real Irish St Patrick’s Day Parade. Wow, what an experience! Not only did the town crazy (who they let out of the loony bin until 6pm) dance a jig up and down the parade route, but I saw green dogs, lots of men in plaid skirts, bagpipes and a little boy so dedicated to his penny whistle playing that he stepped in a ginormous pile of horse poo without even flinching. Go Irish!

Since there is just far too much Irish goodness to write about all at once, I will just highlight a few favorites for quick and easy consumption. (They are arranged chronologically since it was too hard to rank any other way.)

1. Cliffs of Moher: the most beautifully unbelievable cliffs of pure insanity I have ever seen in real life. It is truly amazing to me that 3 giddy girls could actually get in a backwards European car in a foreign country with basically nothing but aspirations of great times and find some of the most beautiful sites in the world, the Cliffs of Moher were just the first of many.
2. Random castles and stone creations strewn about the countryside. We had no idea what they were or how old but they were everywhere and that alone was pretty awesome.
3. Dunnes: Ireland’s version of Super Target, sure to fulfill all your American needs for only triple the dollar.
4. J90 at The Grand: the best, cute Irish boy American-pop cover band in the world singing just for us in an Irish pub.
5. Gerry aka Our Hero: General manager of our hotel in Killarney who rescued us from the parking nightmare in the back ally, quenched our thirst with free cocoa and gave us sweet insider tips on the most happening night spots. Our love was mutual.
6. Killarney: our hearts will forever belong to this sweet Irish town that gave us shelter, took our money and showed us how to have a kicking time Irish style (well, minus the alcohol)
7. Ring of Kerry: the most breathtaking 2.5-hour drive along the coast of one of Irelands smaller peninsulas. The roads were terrifying but the scenery was totally worth it and just when you think you’ve seen it all, there is so much more!
8. Blarney Stone: we made it to the Blarney Castle 5 min before closing, just in time to run up the itty-bitty spiral stair case to the tippidy top of the castle and kiss the stone for good luck. As a bonus, if you travel with a blond American girl you will likely get a free dinner offer from the creepy, old Blarney Stone man who holds you tight for ‘safety’ while kissing the stone. Awesome.
9. Leprechauns: this is what we affectionately called all the locals we befriended which was actually quite remarkable considering the language barrier. Turns out, they only technically speak English. One memorable leprechaun: Julie, our St Paddy’s Day Parade narrator who really just wanted a ‘fag’ and didn’t care much for the 'Mormons' but chatted and laughed with us for hours anyway.
10. Irish food: boiled tomatoes and warm milk for breakfast, that is the Irish way. And just when you think it might be safe to order a chicken sandwich remember you’re not in America anymore.

In the end, I spent a ridiculous amount of Euro, walked hundreds of miles, saw at least a million sheep, kissed one very old, slimy stone, climbed a thousand extremely uneven and rather unsafe stairs, took almost 300 pictures, laughed till my sides burst, drank cocoa in a pub, fell out of the shower, danced with the locals, chatted with leprechauns and brought back through customs so many other memories of Ireland to last 2 lifetimes. When I landed back on US soil I was ecstatic, not only to run to the nearest BBQ, but also because I just turned one of my life goals into a reality that I get to enjoy forever. I can hardly wait for the next one to begin!

Drafting

I received a friendly email notification at work the other day that my mailbox was over the limit and I needed to reduce immediately or else. Oh no, I might not get some work related email, just tragic. Nevertheless, I had no choice, I must clean out my mailbox.

After deleting all my unread email I didn't care to look at, I went to my 'Drafts' folder where I found several dozen half-completed blog entries. I must start up a blog entry at least once a week. They are usually spurred by something ridiculous that just happened near or around me at work. (I work at a state agency so I'm sure you can vaguely imagine at least some of the ridiculousness I face daily.) I've written random short stories, interesting observations, long rants, fond memories or just a tidbit of new wisdom that hit me that very moment. One thing is the same, they remain there in drafts, unfinished, unpublished.

I re-read them all. I laughed, got a little angry, chuckled mischievously, and I even got a little choked up (some are rather touching, yeah, I'm that good). I thought to myself why didn't I finish and post any of these for someone to enjoy even if that someone was me? I don't have a good answer. They are just drafts, brief bursts of expressed emotion with no real conclusion.

It occurred to me, while reading my awesome drafts, that my life is too much like this folder. I have moments of grand intentions or tempting dreams, bursts of passion and excitement and moments of clarity and insight. I'm going to travel the world, start a business, begin another graduate program, solve the world problems, get married, buy a new car, write a novel, or be a millionaire and yet they sit, never completed, just drafts. Why? They do no one any good there, just clutter. I certainly don't want to get one of those "taking up too much space on earth, must delete" messages any time soon.

As it goes, with this discovery, it is now time to clean out my drafts and make room...for other things, bigger things, better things. This weekend I will finish my first draft - I'm going to Ireland. Not just to return to my adopted roots (turns out, I can only claim to have the national hair color) or see a new part of the world, but to live out one of my dreams and finish something I started a long time ago.

Don't worry, this will not be the only finished draft from me, I have plenty more. Stay tuned...

More Than Words

So I meant to post this like a week ago, but clearly I did not…oops.

Last night (now last week) I sang my poor little heart out at the annual "Love Bites Sing-along" at the Alamo Drafthouse. It was pure therapeutic magic. There really is nothing like belting out surprisingly sentimental lyrics to the electric guitar stylings of Izzy and Jovi with your friends.

I’ve always enjoyed a good ballad and my favorite among them are those awesome power ballads from the 80s. Such an interesting time in music that made an everlasting impact on our souls. The power ballad, in my mind, stands as probably the best artistic description of love I can personally relate to. It is sweet emotion wrapped up in simple melodies, heartfelt lyrics and short bursts of heart pumping electric power solos. That is true love, baby.

For two hours I sang at the top of my lungs alongside the heart wrenching vocal pleas of Cyndi Lauper and Steve Perry. With every song, I released enormous amounts of that icky daily stress and a little bit of those irritating love pains. I can give no better suggestion to someone broken, stressed, torn, sad or just plain tired than to crank up the volume and embrace their inner power ballad. It is a total eclipse of the heart and it certainly works for me, time after time.

Tonight is round two. Tonight we take out the power and embrace just the pure soft ballad. It’s called the "No Shame" sing-along for a reason. And yes, I will sing those ballads shamelessly and you know why - because I love them and I will not be ashamed of what I love. Plus, I’ll take any chance to scream in public without fear of being ssssshhhh’d any day. Yes, we do it all for the glory of love.

My Ox is in the Box!

Tis the year of the ox! A year of prosperity…to those who work for it!

The ox stands as symbol of prosperity through fortitude and hard work. The ox is intended to remind us that good things come to those who work for it. This is probably good advice any year but surely it can’t hurt to have a little encouragement from the stars alignment.

With this nudge form the stars, I thought I should probably take on the challenge of hard work this year. I mean, I would like very much to be prosperous, but that really just seems…well, like a lot of work. However, while I was conducting extensive research today on the ox year, I discovered that I am not actually the tenacious rooster I had always believed. Turns out, those Chinese place mats detailing my future are not entirely accurate. I know, I was both shocked and horrified as well. Since the Chinese calendar follows a lunar year they don’t exactly match up to our western, simplistic calendar. Therefore, I’m excited to announce that I’m actually a monkey.

Wow, this feels so liberating and now that I know where I really come from there is a whole new outlook on life. It all makes perfect sense really. Master Wiki says monkeys are “often inventors, plotters, entertainers and the creative geniuses behind anything ingenious, including mischief and with their charm and persuasiveness they can make people believe that just knowing them is a privilege.” Now, who couldn’t have called that one?

Armed with this enlightenment, I asked myself what a monkey would do in the year of the ox to find prosperity. Ingeniously simple! I’m going to find an ox to do the hard work for me.

Did I peak your curiosity? Good. Find your Chinese animal equivalent and figure out how to exploit the year of the ox as well.

Egad

In less than 48 hours I will be turning 28 years of age and I’m not going to lie, it is really freaking me out.

The other day I was watching a few episodes from season two of Friends with a friend. For all my fellow Friends fans this is the season where Ross and Rachel finally get together, Monica starts dating the much older Dr. Burke and Joey is cast and quickly killed off on Days of Our Lives. Also in season two, the friends are 27 years old. Now, despite the fact these episodes aired over decade ago, it still hit me hard…I am now older than Chandler. Egad!

Not only am I freaked out because I’m now older than the Friends, but 28 is the basically the point of no return…to thirty!!! You see, at 27 you can still claim membership to the ‘mid-twenties’. You are just barely getting over the quarter-century life crisis and living the easy life of an independent twenty-something, but as that clock hits 28 everything changes. You are now officially a card holding member of the ‘late twenties’ and getting monthly reminder notices from the Thirty Club. There is no going back to the safety and innocence of the mid-twenties; those care free days are long gone.

Now, being that I’m not yet 28, I’m not sure what exactly all my new responsibilities will be but certainly the job of a 28 year old is more intense than the years prior. There is so much preparation to be done. I have to start thinking about my health, long term goals and retirement. I probably have to start checking out all the good buffets in town, practice going to bed at 8 pm and telling those 25 year olds' to turn down the music. On top of all that, I have to start looking for cats that need to be adopted. So much, so much. On the upside, I think at 28 you get reduced rates on car insurance and Dennys, are bestowed with additional bits of wisdom and blessed with the title, “Ma'am”.

Well, so begins the end. As I brace myself for this shove into maturity, I wish to say audios to all the glorious years of my youth. Goodbye young Red, you were a shining star. We have had many a good times and I will never forget you!