It's Not a Comeback, It's a Murder

On the third day of life with a trainer I arrived at the gym, climbed onto a treadmill, and decided it would be a cool idea to show these people that I am not just a soft sack of pudding. So I put myself through an aggressive cardio routine, that sure enough caught the attention of some of the other softies at the gym. I would walk for 90 seconds, and then bump up the treadmill to a full sprint for 90 seconds, and then walk, and then sprint, and I did this for 20 minutes. It was awesome.

15 minutes later, barely into my actual workout with my trainer, I broke into a cold sweat, my knees wobbled, and I was on the ground, outside, passed out cold, for two and a half minutes.

I fainted at the gym. Ugh... It was really hard to suck it up and walk back in there. Feeling like everyone was looking at me like, "there's the dude that fainted, what a wimp!"

Today marks the end of my third week, and my entire body hurts. Places around my body that have never spoke up before with funny names like lats, and quads, and parts that end in oids, are now screaming their collective heads off in quivering pain whenever I move a little too much. Yesterday I wailed on my pecs. You have to wail on them you know.

I am writing this for the people that are going to wake up on Monday that have decided that they are really going to make it happen this time. To all of the people that are going to drop weight, and get fit in 2012. I am 3 weeks ahead of you. And I am here telling you that it sucks. It hurts. It hurts really bad actually. You know what else? You don't see any results right away. Unless you consider not passing out lately a result. Not throwing up in your car in the parking lot progress. I can't tell if I feel any better or have more energy, because I am in miserable pain when I move even inches. Poor Cole has heard me whine and bitch about my body hurting more than any person should ever have to endure. If I do anything, like get up and walk to the kitchen for a drink of water, I say "oh my god this hurts so bad!" no less than 5 times, and then 5 times on my way back to the couch.

One thing that has honestly been a big change is our sex life. It's not more vigorous and intense like I have heard can happen, it kind of goes like this, where I say: "so you're cool if I just lay here really still and not move at all, because I am going to cry if I have to do anything more than that."

All jokes aside, the big difference 3 weeks in is that I can't wait to go back to the gym. I go again on Monday, and I wish Monday was tomorrow. I want to go every day. I got home yesterday and my body felt like a jar of jelly with some noodles hanging off of it, and I still wanted to go run. I didn't feel this way last week. Half way through week two I would drive home from the gym and I would think up excuses on how to stop going that didn't make me sound like a total wimp. I was looking for a way to quit. I was actually wishing for the flu or something. I'm not sure what happened, but something clicked this last workout. I signed up to go every single day next week until I leave for Vegas. I am as they say, hooked.

So for now. Turning the corner on week four, I like to pretend that I am fighting one of those gremlins, you know the ones that climb onto an airplane and rips it apart for a laugh. I imagine this gremlin got inside of me a long time ago, it snuck in stowed away in a bacon cheeseburger donut, fast food corporations plant them in the food so we keep eating their shit. And once it was inside of me, it took over completely and started ripping me apart. All of my muscles turned to pudding, and this gremlin has been winning. This thing fucks my shit up, and it can push on my brain and convince me that eating things like the brand new quadruple bacon stack melt, that's sandwiched between two pieces of fried chicken instead of bread now with crushed up cheddar chili spice fritos smashed into it is a good idea. So now I am on a mission to murder this little bastard before he kills me. I pretend that each time I exercise, my muscles hurt because it is digging it's little claws into my body trying to cling on. Every inch of fat I lose, is one less hiding spot for this bastard to hide in. The more I lose, the easier it will be to find this thing, and kill it once and for all. The less junk I eat, the more I starve it out. The more muscle I build, the stronger I am to fight this thing out of my body. I want my body back. That's all this is, a fight for your body back. So fight.

So maybe think about your resolution differently this year. Maybe it shouldn't be so big. Just promise yourself you will get past the second week. Maybe all the lights will turn on when you hit week three like it has for me. Maybe not. I'm not making promises, and I am certainly not an expert, I'm just telling you that no matter what you do, if you're doing it right, you're not going to like it at first, (that gremlin really isn't going to like it) and the changes that are occurring are not the kind of changes you are hoping for. Your clothes don't fit any better, and your body looks the same. The one little treat you get, if you are eating right and working hard, is you lose that easy water weight. So you do get one little weight victory on the scale. I suggest you don't even look at the scale the first few weeks. Don't go into this dreaming about being skinny, think about it like I can't wait to not feel sick when I exercise. You have to visualize that you are laying a foundation. You have to keep it in your head that what you are doing in the early weeks is making it so that your body can start to physically change. The stronger you are, the quicker you can get cardio fit, the faster you can start to make the changes you are looking for. That's when you can start sculpting.

One last thought, and I only mention it because it made me feel a lot of shame and really crazy in the beginning. It's important to remember that the majority of us were raised to reward ourselves with sweets and junk when we would work hard at something that we didn't really want to do but did anyway-- so don't be surprised when you sweat it out in the gym for 2 hours and later that day find yourself in the kitchen justifying the spoon in your hand digging into that tub of ice cream. These are old habits. It's in your head. You're not hopelessly sick or disgusting. You just have a trigger, hard work, equals treats. So don't be a fool about it, just get some not so bad "treats" to have lying around your house. Keep your reward system intact, just find a group of things that become your new treats. Lucky for me Clementines are still in season and so I can stand in the kitchen and eat them like candy. I am still fighting that urge to eat bad. I can hear myself say, "I deserve this." I feel like this is one habit that is going to take a long time to crush.

So that's it for me in 2011 here. I am looking forward to a gremlin free 2012. I wonder how much clearer I will think, and how much harder I can work when I am rid of that thing...

Thanks to everyone that wrote an encouraging word, or gave good advice or perspective when I started this. I am sure I will hit many roadblocks along the way, so it is rad to know there are people out there that can keep me going.

Hope everyone has a great New Years Eve, maybe throw in one or two really extra crazy resolutions this year, so when you start breaking them, you keep the ones that you need to be keeping.

Good luck.

P.S. Did you happen to see the chipin widget in the sidebar today?! We did it. Corinne hit 100% this morning. How amazing is that? HUGE thanks to anyone that donated and a really extra HUGE thank you to anyone that posted about it, or spread the word around blog land. So very cool and I am so excited for her.

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Clicks

I have five rolls of film sitting on my counter that have yet to make it to the lab. I keep putting it off, or running out of time. I need to get on top of this.

I know there has been a real shortage of photos around here lately, so in the meantime I scanned in some instant film I had lying around, and dumped a CF card off my 7D. The picture taking has been light around here. I have been buried finishing up a project that is due the first week of January, and it is by far the biggest thing I have ever tackled.

More about that later, first here are some pictures-- from brand new pillow day, to bikes and sunsets, to cookie parties.

I love that Cole and her Grandma make the same concentration face. If you ever get your hair done by Cole, this is her "hair face" so funny. Does your stylist have a "hair face" that they make? Take a look the next time you're getting your hair done, I bet they do.

So the reason for the big photo shortage around here has been this project I mentioned. I don't know if anyone remembers me posting about THIS hero of mine... but what happened is that I contacted some people at Redken and begged them to let me make a film about him, (did I mention begged?) and they finally said yes and agreed. What was supposed to be a little 2 minute piece, turned into a giant project. I ended up following him around and capturing the very cool process of taking a set of brand new not yet released products through testing, to the runways at Fashion Week, to a final national shoot showing off a brand new trend collection. So to say the least, that has been a ton of footage to get through.

I am nearing the end, and will be flying off to Vegas soon to show it to a crowd of a few thousand rowdy hairdressers. No big deal. I'm sure that won't make me nervous at all. Ugh. I've had heartburn for weeks already.

So most of my days when Cole isn't working, I am glued to my computer, editing, and nail biting, and watching a render bar. Wheee! It's hard to be in full on fitness rage mindset, and then spend 9 hours glued to a chair sitting staring up at a monitor.

So almost done.

Just in time for Christmas.



P.S. did you get the chance to read yesterdays post? Every dollar matters, it really adds up quickly. So even if you think $5 doesn't matter. No way. It totally does. If everyone that stopped by here to look at this blog smacked down $5 bucks. Oh my gosh! So anyway my point is that sometimes people don't donate because they think what they can spare isn't enough, every little penny matters. Thanks to everyone that took the time to read her story.

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Wheels Up!

**Wow! 60% reached. It really does add up quickly. Thanks to everyone who has shared this story today even if you can't contribute, spreading the word helps just as much.

**AWESOME!! It's only 11AM and we got her up to 50% thank you all so much. Every little bit helps. Would be amazing to get her all the way there by the end of the day :) What a gift. dollars and cents add up fast when everyone acts in force.

I wanted to put some light on a friend in this space today that needs a bit of HELP, in the hopes that maybe a few more people that are in the position to do good things during this season of giving would find this story and be compelled. It's also here for friends that have lost touch or moved far away that might not know what our pal Corinne has been up to in the last year.

I have to also point out, that Corinne is not just a dear friend to this family, but she is also Cole's boss. She owns the salon that Cole is employed, so I figured if I were able to help her, then Cole will totally get special treatment at work :) I'm kidding. Geez.

But she is, she is Cole's boss, she is our dear friend, and she has done so many good things for us, for our family, she has given us the time to figure out so many things. She actually pulled money together when Cole and I were struggling financially and paid for our Doula, who helped bring Tessa Tangerine into this world. Corinne did not pressure Cole to hurry up and get back from maternity leave after Tessa was born, she did not pressure Cole to hurry up and come back to work when she took a leave so that I could work on a video project, she has always kept her spot waiting for her at the salon. She is supportive of our schedules, and of The Littlest Buddie's special needs and his extraordinary amount of doctors appointments and therapy, she has always been the best kind of teacher to Cole, and if all that wasn't enough-- this is the lady that found our dog Wendy, tied to a stop sign with a note that read: 'found dog' and she gave her a home, and made sure that she found her a good place to go. Luckily that place was our home after Cole fell in love her.

So this is the deal. Corinne has been going through the adoption process for over a year now. Her determination to love and raise a child, her want to be a mother had grown so much that she started down the road to adoption and found herself suddenly in love with a little boy who lived in Ethiopia who had been abandoned by his family. She was sent just a couple pictures of him, lying on his back, just one month old, waiting for his life to get started in an orphanage. He had no idea how lucky he was yet that Corinne was going to be his new Mama.

Corinne, flew to Ethiopia to meet him, and to go through the court process of legally adopting him, which she has done. She is his mother, he is her son. She has shared her journey and all the sights and sounds and experiences at the orphanage over at her Tumblr Wheels-Up!. If you scroll down to the bottom you can start at the beginning and see how quickly the two of them discovered they needed one another.

Here are a couple screen shots of her Tumblr.

So I will let you discover the rest of her story on your own, I encourage you to read on over at her space.

Here is my plea for her case...

In most cases the adoptive parents fly over to Ethiopia, they meet their babies, they go through court, they go home, and then they wait for months at a time for the green light to finally go back and pick up their child. The window they gave Corinne was 3-6 months, even hinted at longer. After Corinne met her son, and saw that for his first 8 months he had not done much more beyond lie on his back with a bottle, and had never seen the light of day, she couldn't justify leaving him for these vital developmental months. Her trip kept extending longer, and her thoughts kept drifting to staying until she could take him home. She started working with him, doing therapy with him, getting him sitting up, and eating, taking him on outings, and breaking the habit of laying down with a bottle which was giving him nasty ear infections. The more she stayed, the stronger he became. The more she loved him, the more he loved her. She was instantly his mother.

So she made her decision to stay and live in Ethiopia and keep her boy happy and healthy during the grueling waiting period to bring him back home.

First she had to return to America for a few weeks to get things in order at the salon, and rent out her home, and make sure that her family at the salon was okay and that they understood why she had to go back. It's a good thing she did come home when she did, because she fell ill with a scary virus and ended up losing her hearing in one ear and has been recovering and getting her strength back.

Corinne works hard for her salon, and has a busy packed schedule each week filled with clients, beyond her regular stylist schedule she puts in her hours just running the business and making sure her stylists get healthy doses of continued education. Regardless to say, that her going away for this long impacts her business. She is lucky to have understanding clients and a supportive staff, and it is the least I can do to try and help her by spreading the word. She has reluctantly asked for financial assistance, mainly so that this trip impacts the salon as little as possible. Her being gone obviously makes it so that the salon does not make as much money. It's a scary decision to make right now, but she has made the right one, go and keep her boy thriving.

Here is THE LINK to her Chipin page, and I have also placed her CHIPIN in my sidebar. Please consider reading on and maybe throwing a little her way if you have found yourself in the position to do so this year. Thanks a bunch for reading this far if you have, and if you are able to donate, thank you.

Corinne is getting set to leave soon, and you can follow her story over at Wheels-Up! as she returns to Ethiopia, to Addis Ababa, to the orphanage, to her son.

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Bad Timing

Without getting into a huge amount of embarrassing examples here, I have notoriously bad timing for things. The one example I wanted to focus on today was my new found "fitness rage" coinciding with one of the biggest months to shove sugar and junk in your face of the entire year. It's December-- duh. Why on earth would anyone decide to get in shape two weeks before X-mas?! My last post "Fighting" was made for the day after New Years Eve, not two weeks before X-mas chocolate and egg nog? What is wrong with me? I am sure more than a few people read that post and had to have thought to themselves: "Ummmmm, shut up asshole! I am not ready for this yet, there is a fried turkey and a port wine cheese ball with my name on it in a few days!!!" Anyone want to admit this? You can tell me to shut it. I know I'm early. I'm out here in the "I'm really going to do it this time" territory WAY too soon. I have to tell you, I'm excited for the NYE posts that are coming :)

This weekend Cole hosted a cookie party that she wants to become a family tradition for us. I was all about it. Not for the sweets, but for the fact that Cole wanted to get together some of the women in her life that are important to her and bake. It was all good until I started to realize how many cookies were being constructed. Until the house started to smell like butter and sugar. Until the dining room table looked like this!

photo by: Cole Marshall on iPhone 4s lovingly taken from her instagram

I'm not going to pretend that I didn't eat any of this mess. But I will tell you that I only ate a couple of these, and by a couple I mean 3. And by 3, I mean they were the 3 SMALLEST ones. It was freaking hard not to do what I always do and eat until I hear myself say: "Ugh, why did I do that?" How many people eat until they make themselves say something regretful and hilarious? It's hard. All of this is hard. It is fun to eat this shit, it is fun to make sweets. I wonder what Cole's family would have said if she was like, we're all going to make really yummy brussels sprouts to give to people. I know if someone handed me a box of brussels sprouts for a gift I would wonder what i did to hurt them that year.

So what can we do? How can we undo these traditions of indulgence? Is this how it started, these small occasions throughout the year bleeding into the every day? People deciding they want to celebrate every little victory with this X-mas indulgence as a blueprint.

I'm honestly not sure how I am going to navigate the next week. My plan is to say no as often as I can, and workout extra hard. What do the healthy people do? Are you all so healthy at this point that you can truly eat some of this stuff and have it not become an issue? If I were my trainer I would just make my arms and chest so sore that I can't use them to lift up triple layers of chocolate to my lips. "I'm sorry, that piece of cake is just way too heavy to eat."

All I know is that I just have to get through this last part of the month, and then the internet will be full of posts about weight loss and exercise, and all kinds of determination and spunk. Right now, I'm just saying shit that people don't want to hear right now. I will say this at the risk of being preachy...

If you are in a situation like mine, frustrated with how you feel and look, and wanting to finally do something about it, and planning for fitness right after the New Year. Think really hard about what you bring into your house for the holidays. Don't fill your kids stocking with gross amounts of candy that they will never eat, all of that will end up in your cupboards haunting you. Tempting you. Making it easy to fall off the horse when you finally get started. You will be tempted to gorge yourself on it, making the justification that you are getting rid of all the bad stuff before you start to get in shape. Consider telling your family and friends not to give candy this year, unless of course you have loads of willpower and discipline and are already in great shape, and have the ability to indulge once a year and treat yourself to treats, and then immediately go right back to your perfectly healthy lifestyle. If that's the case, than go nuts :)

It's just a thought. I just know how hard it is to get that stuff out of your house once it makes it in there.

I'm fine with my bad timing for now, it was funny once I realized how absurd it was that I was doing all this right now, but maybe that is the better idea, instead of on New Years Eve when all the damage is done, try and think about it now. Just a little bit. I will welcome the support after the holidays. I know it's coming.

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Fighting

It's an odd feeling at 37 to be in a situation where I am purposefully uncomfortable. At this age, I tend to not do things that would lead to face planting into the ground from exhaustion. So yesterday I'm staggering around a gym on legs turned to noodles and dust, just inches away from that fuzzy blackness luring me to fall into it. And I keep muttering to myself, this is all your fault, this is all your fault, this is all your fault. My body hates me.

Exercise is a conversation you have with your body, and if you have been feeding it well, and exercising often, the conversation goes great, a couple of old friends, pushing one another to new boundaries and unlocking new things it can do. WOW, look how far and fast I can run. WOW, look how high I can jump. But, when you feed it nothing but sugar cancer and lard, and stop using it almost entirely, when you lay it up to rest on couches and comfy chairs for years at a time, it's going to be really pissed when you start trying to use it again. And when you start pushing your body to do new things you're saying: "Oh hi, how have you been? How do you feel?" and your body sends a clear signal to let you know it's not happy about what you've done to it. In response it falls apart and quivers and pours sweat, and your heart jumps around your chest and tries to push you over. It's basically saying: "I feel like shit asshole, all you've done is sit around and feed me terrible food and all your muscles turned into mushy messy pudding, and now you expect me to do these things?" and then your body spits on you and in it's anger, starts to fall apart. It's so angry it can't function, it turns your lungs against you, it shakes your limbs, it squeezes your insides until they cramp, your body hates you.

Think about it like the couple that just quietly exists without any communication about what's bothering them. The couple you see at the diner, sitting in silence in their soup, with nothing to say, staring through one another, content with ignoring their differences and disgusts. Then one day, one says to the other, "I hate what you have become", and so they fight. They battle fiercely. All the sudden they are talking, really speaking to one another. They wake up and start unloading hard truths. The point is most people don't want to fight through the problems or what's hard. So they walk away, or they figure out how to justify the differences enough to go back to simply ignoring them, and they quietly exist, and continue to deteriorate.

When you are fighting to get something back, fighting to rebuild, fighting to make something brand new-- that is a brutal ugly nasty fight. It's long lasting, it's hard work, and it hurts, almost every day it hurts. That pain is supposed to remind me that it's starting to work. That pain is there to tell me that we are at least talking again, and these are all the places that need work. And then one day it just stops hurting so bad, and there is a friendship that begins to spark. A trust builds that we will be taking better care of one another from now on. These are just rumors I hear from people that have been fighting with their bodies and have new relationships with them. I hear they go new places, and get new clothes, and people say, "Look how great you look!" But I also hear that isn't the best part, it's how they feel inside, and what they feel like they can accomplish-- anything they want to.

Keep pushing for the life that you want.

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A Few Things On My Mind

** So I'm not sure how many people that read here are also fans of watching the reality series The Biggest Loser but Cole and I have been hooked for a couple of seasons now. The thing I find the most curious about the show is that about halfway through the episode, no matter how full I am feeling from dinner, We usually get up at some point and get into the freezer and eat some ice cream, or I'll pop a bag of popcorn and eat the entire thing. Anyone else find themselves doing things like this? What's the deal here?

** I wish someone would keep some stats on couples that choose the no shower route vs the couples that keep up the regular shower routine despite being tired and just wanting to sit and stare at walls for an hour to unwind. I want to know if the no shower people are having more sex than the shower people. Are the no shower people more productive during the day than the shower people? Do the shower people have more friends than the no shower people? I feel like these stats would blow minds apart.

** I quit using twitter a couple months ago and have been loving my internet life much more ever since. Anyone else make the leap and quit, and discover that this incredibly useful and essential social media tool really doesn't matter at all? You have to constantly feed that monster to make it work for you, and I have the feeling that there are way more people out there feeding it noise because they think they have to, compared to people truly enjoying the experience. I'm not denying that twitter can be powerful and amazing, I'm just saying it feels good to unplug from that drain. Curious if anyone else was experiencing this...

** Speaking strictly to any possible readers who also have a child with SMS, I was curious if you noticed an escalation in tantrums and bad behaviors during the winter months vs the summer months when the days are longer. Cole has picked up on this, and tracked a major swing in defiance and stubbornness in LB when the days get shorter. The less sunlight he is exposed to the more difficult he can be. Which of course is linked to the reversal of the circadian rhythm and melatonin levels in people with SMS. Really interested to know if other parents are experiencing the same thing. We have been so curious about trying light therapy and just starting to really look into it.

** Do most people still lie to their kids about Santa? Or is this considered one of those truly terrible things parents used to do, that just ins't cool anymore? Like spanking. And sticking soap in mouths.


** Thanks for the race suggestions yesterday, I think I have myself a great start to a team already, now we just need to settle on a race so I know what to train for. And so far I haven't seen one that quite fits the description I gave. I will keep looking at all the suggestions. Truly appreciated all of them. For now I am just going to keep getting into basic all around good shape, and then start worrying about specializing. I love the idea of needing a navigator on the team to make it. I am drawn to adventure racing. How is that for a midlife crisis? From Couch Potato to Adventure Racer wouldn't that be a miracle to pull off?

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Team Sport Junky

There are people like THIS guy, who just woke up one day and decided that he will go running every single day no matter what, even if he is hurt, and then he goes and runs for like 525 some odd days in a row-- without fail. And then there are people like THIS lady, who is told she is going to be on a marathon team and to go ahead and get ready, and by the way she has just 2 months and has never really trained to run before, and then she does, gets hurt, twice, possibly three times, runs it anyway, and still posts a rockin time.

And then there is me. Day one me.

Cole bought me 4 weeks with a personal trainer for my 37th birthday, and yesterday was my first day. So here I am sitting in bed, the day after workout one, laughing out-loud at how insane it is that my arms actually hurt to type this. Trying to figure out how to not walk like Frankenstein when I have a lunch later I am going to. I can see myself lurching up to greet my friends trying not to bend anything, and having to explain why I just want to order a water with a straw so all I have to do is lean forward to sip out of the glass.

This is the day after day one. How many people stop here? How many people beg their spouse to rub them down with a mix of Tiger Balm and Icy Hot and a little Ben-Gay thrown in just to he sure your body feels like it's on fire instead of a sea of ripped apart throbbing muscle? How many people decide that this whole idea of exercise is just stupid, and they will just eat better and go for light walks, and they don't need to feel muscle pain like this ever again? It would be amazing to document all of the conversations people have with themselves when they talk their way out of doing good things for their bodies. Nobody is more convincing than yourself: "Come on buddy, you don't want to feel this way, do you?" Seriously it would make for such a great read. Posters of out of shape and overweight people standing next to their quit speech. It's a whole new line of motivational posters.

Yesterday when I had to explain to my new trainer what I wanted, what my goals were, I must have sounded crazy. I was like: Well, is it possible to exercise so much that I can eat like I'm 13 years old again and just smoked like a bag of weed and bought myself a box of 12 chicken tacos and a bag of chips?! Is that possible? No? Well how about like once a week I can eat an entire pizza without having to worry about it? Geez! You're strict. Well, I guess I just want to look better so when people see how hot my wife is they don't spend the next 15 minutes trying to wonder why she is married to someone who looks so bad.

Of course I'm exaggerating here for laughs but I was really wishy-washy, like I honestly didn't know what my goal was. To live longer? Feel better? Look better? Everything I said came out like a question. In the end I decided that I needed to feel like I was training for something big! I always do better when I am a part of a team, I hate letting other people down. I've been letting myself down for 37 years, so I am immune to it. So I need to be in a situation where people are dependent on me to do well or they will lose out on something. That is the stuff that makes me a champion :) I am a team player.

Seriously. I need a goal. I watched this AWESOME trailer for THIS race, and immediately wanted to find something bonkers like this to work towards. I used to love that Eco-Challenge race they did. So hit me with links to adventure races, expedition races, and crazy endurance craziness that makes you crazy if you finish it. The kind of races where they drag people off the course on stretchers shaking and crying. And it would be cool if the race was somewhere out of the country in some exotic location that has bugs and snakes that can kill you with a bite, jungles that eat your skin off if you get a scrape. Something like that. Oh, and I need a team, and a sponsor to send me to this exotic adventure endurance race place. That's all I need. Then I will be totally fine. Imagine a team of bloggers running one of these races. Oh the stories.

Both of the people I linked to at the top of this post are written by people I look up to immensely, for more than just their psychotic determination and grit, but for the humor and perspective they are able to communicate so well in their story telling about the process of doing something that is hard for just about everyone else. They never lie and say it's a cake walk, but there is a glory in their achievements even when its centered around so much pain. It's like Rocky Balboa in round 15 wobbling around beat to hell and still standing. You love the guy for it. They could be on my team, they are both Rocky's. I can't imagine letting them down. Imagine the things they would say about me on their blogs if I turned out to be a quitter. The danger of being humiliated in a public forum, that's the kind of motivation I need. They would be so mean. I couldn't even use the fact that I was hurt as an excuse. Heather was running around Manhattan on a bad ankle for like an entire marathon.

All joking aside, send me your race suggestions. Just think, I would be the only runner sponsored by a 12 pack of chicken tacos. It will be amazing.

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The View-- Christmas In NYC

Let me catch you up... I had a couple jobs in New York City last week with some time off in between them, so I decided as a surprise at the last minute that I would bring up Cole & Tessa to soak up some Christmas sights and get touristy with me during my time off over the weekend. It was my only chance to try and keep some of our family tradition intact of going to see the Radio City Christmas show. The biggest bummer in making this decision was that we could not bring The Littlest Buddy with us because it was not our weekend to be with him, and I would be in and out working a bunch and that isn't an ideal amount of consistency to keep him coping with a big change like a trip to the Big Apple :(

All I told Cole was, you're going to NYC next weekend with Tessa and we're doing a bunch of stuff... a bunch. So the whole trip was a surprise for them. And who loves to give surprises? This guy.

all images taken on iPhone 4s and processed through instagram

This was one of those weird trips that felt too good to be true, when something would go wrong, someone would come along and make things better. It was starting to get freaky towards the end, but it happened a bunch, stuff like-- when some cruel kid hating B sitting next to us huffed and puffed, griped and groaned, and built up so much tension around us at a show, I got up and spoke to the floor manager and we were moved to amazing seats that were a million times better than the ones I had paid for where we had to sit next to a kid hater. So thanks for that you mean ass lady wherever you are. Who gets mad at a kid for being excited at Mary Poppins?! You're at Mary Poppins you ding dong!!!!

Here's another example: On the morning that Cole and Tessa were flying in I wanted to get the room all ready so they could settle in and warm up and relax a little before we set out for the day. So when I arrived to check in, this is the news I receive. "Your room isn't finished being cleaned, but we did go ahead and upgrade you to a loft." Im sorry you did what?! I was so afraid that if I spoke they would either change their mind, say just kidding, or I would somehow screw it up. So I just backed away slowly and nodded. They did end up getting the room ready by the time Cole and Tessa arrived, so we got to go straight up.

So in all of the planning of sights and sounds, and shows and spectacle, it ended up being the windows in our room that stole the whole show, and of course it was the one thing I had nothing to do with. The two of them rushed into the room and let out these great "WOWS!!" and ran right up to the windows and climbed up onto the sills and fawned over the view. Tessa was out of her mind excited. It really made the whole trip, right there in that moment. She stood in the windows for at least an hour just pointing and asking questions, and laughing. "What's that daddy?" I think she set a record and asked this same question 592 times standing in that window. It was awesome.





The above photos are the only pictures I took the whole weekend on my 7D, I mainly used my iPhone, and boy did I feel like a tourist whipping that thing out and squinting at the back of it composing shots in the middle of the street and at shows. So if you follow along on Insatgram or my Tumblr I am sure you saw all the NYC photos pouring in from the trip. I thought by now I would be tired of using the phone as my main walk around camera, but I am showing no signs of slowing down. I really love the convenience of it too much.

One last story from the trip- It's not often that I sit around and pat myself on the back about shit that I do, if anything I am so self critical that I'm usually a punching bag. But... last year when we took the kids to see the Radio City Music Hall Christmas Spectacular starring the World Famous NYC Rockettes, I noticed and paid close attention to where Santa Claus came out into the crowd and makes his march up to the stage for the show. So this year, I bought seats where I remembered him walking out, and sure enough, after the first dance number when Santa arrives in the theater, the big spotlight shoots down right at our corner, and BAM! there is Santa Claus standing right there, and I grab Tessa and hold her up in the air, and Santa walked right over (like it was his job or something) and picked her up and hugged her tight and says to her "Ho-Ho-Ho, I love you so much." in a perfect jolly Santa Claus voice and Cole and I were going bonkers. I must have looked like crazy Will Ferrell in Elf when he starts screaming and flapping his hands for Santa at the Dept Store. "OH My GOD Tessa it's Santa! SANTA!!!!!!! It was amazing. So for the next 20 minutes of the show I don't even remember anything that happened, I was too busy beaming and thinking to myself: you're the greatest dad in the world, I mean the greatest. Of course that wore off quickly and I immediately went back to my trademark panicked and self critical state where I constantly beat myself up. But those 20 minutes felt nice.



In my little opinion, nobody does Christmas like New York City, it really feels great to be in that city this time of year, and I am so beyond lucky that I got the chance to do this again this year. It's so important to me that the kids can look back on their lives and see that they have been places beyond their own neighborhoods. I'm sure Tessa won't remember that at the age of two she stood in a window and marveled over the view and the noise laid out in front of her, but she will have these stories and images to look back on, and I hope they always give her great courage to face the world.

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Coffee Talk

I get just a little time with Cole each morning before she goes off to work for the day. This morning while she waited for her coffee to brew she was reading emails, and instagram, and we had this discussion.

Cole: Don't post that picture you can see my panty line, my panty line is too personal.

Me: Sorry, it's already posted.

Cole: What if this Kepler-22b planet is really just heaven.

Me: Huh?

Cole: You know, what if it's heaven?

Me: Like God thought, I'll just put it way out here, 600 light years away, no way these ding dongs will ever find it?!

Cole: Yeah, and now here we are trying to figure out how to get there. Like we come along and bring the virus.

Me: What virus?

Cole: Us. We're the virus. Like you know if we figured out that we discovered heaven, someone would decide to go and invade it.

Me: This sounds like a movie.

Cole: Yeah, a good movie.

Me: Like we would be trying to get into heaven alive?

Cole: Sci-Fi

***

I thought sharing this morning conversation here, might give everyone something to talk about today. Kepler-22b throw that around the water cooler. It's a fun one.

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Time-- And How I Got Okay About Not Having Any of It

I'm going to be 37 tomorrow.

In the last few weeks leading up to this date, I've been thinking mostly about my state of happiness. Assessing and stacking up my successes next to my failures, as well as being brutally honest about my strengths and weaknesses as it pertains to checking off accomplishments and goals that I am striving for. I was happy to discover that things stacked up pretty well, however there was one set of stacks that were the most telling about my future, and it was the most troubling. It was when I took a look at my time vs my determination. It was the most unbalanced out of everything I had mulled over. A big towering stack of determination and a little teeny tiny pile of time. That was bad news for me.

if you have your time and determination purring in harmony, and on top of that plenty of it to wield at your will, there isn't anything that you can't do. I recently watched some short films on creatives that had dramatically changed the course of their lives after layoffs or setbacks. Some of them had just woke up one day and started being honest that they were miserable in their current fields, and then they did something about it. The one thing I noticed that they all had in common, was they had the time on their hands to do something about it. They mention frequently how much time it took them to get started, and how much time they put into making this thing they were after perfect. It's funny when you hear these kinds of success stories and it's centered around a single man or a single woman, they speak about how they tuned out their friends and a social life, cut themselves off, put themselves on an island, they put their heads down and solely went after what they wanted. When it is a similar success story about someone who has a family, all the talk is about support systems and how they couldn't have done it without their partner, their spouse taking over an entire aspect of their life for them so that this new achievement could be possible. They are given the gift of time.

Do you ever watch the Academy awards and feel really terrible when the actor or actress that's standing there sobbing over their trophy is going on and on about how they could never ever have done this without the sacrifice they made away from their loved ones? And then they show the crowd shot and you see their partner crying just as hard. I think about those tears and how complex it all is in that moment. There are for sure happy and proud tears pouring out, but along with it there has to be regret over missing one another, moments they will never get back of their kids growing up, an absence and a distance that has to be mended between all of them. It's always sad to watch, mostly because I think of the people that attempt this and that don't have the same successes, the people that can't hold up to the pressure of putting everything on the other persons shoulders. All the failed attempts that lead to resentments and families breaking up over the promise of results-- "if you just sacrifice everything for me, I can do this great thing!" and then they don't. It's brutal.

I don't want to be in the position where after achieving my goals, and I am relishing the feeling of accomplishment, look back on how I was able to pull it off, and realize it was because I gave up the one thing that I have done right so far. I'm about to be 37 and just now figuring out that I have everything I ever wanted in my personal and romantic life, and that isn't anything I want to gamble with. Having that personal happiness and balance takes just as much work and time to maintain as it does to balance a career. It isn't effortless, and anyone that says it is either is lying or lying. It is work.

Something my mother beat into my head when I was a kid, and this is definitely filed under the "maybe she shouldn't have said shit like this to me when i was a kid" folder, but she said: "It's possible to not be able to stand someone you love." and then she would kind of look at me like, "you know what I mean... you know?!" and then nudge me with her elbow. Basically this was her telling me I was a huge annoying asshole of a teenager, which I absolutely was. My point is, knowing that this is possible-- I don't ever question Cole's love for me, but I'm not fool enough to think that love protects me from being hateable or annoying.

I think where this has led me is despite my drive to live a creative life, I have to find a way to not react to the frustration of how much longer it's going to take me to get to where I want to be since I am unwilling to bury my head and work possessed by the end goal. I have too many other people to consider. So it's time I let go of it as a frustration. It cannot become a regret. I will not let it turn into resentment. I don't have the time that other people have. I didn't start this when I was 17. I started this when I was in my thirties and had a family and it was already too late. So of course it's going to take longer. duh.

Each year I get a little older, and each year I try and let go of something in my life that will allow me to move forward with some more grace.

So this year, I am going to relax about the time tables. I have the love of my life and hilarious beautiful creative children surrounding me, and they keep me magnetized and pulled close to them, and so if that means that it's going to take longer to get to where I want to be, that's fine. I am getting there with good company, and in good standing with all of them. In the end, we won't be strangers when we get there. Together.

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A Follow Up to the Slobs Post

If you've been putting off buying yourself some new pillows and maybe a new comfy warm blanket for the winter, do yourself a favor and go and treat yo self!

Have a great weekend.

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The Season is Ripe with Forgiveness

I've written recently about my new obsessive love for the fabulous blogging combo of Instagram to Tumblr. I mean it's the best. Just the best. Really it is. But not until last night has anything I have posted on Tumblr really ever been Tumbled before. It wasn't an adorable photo of the kids, or anything clever that I wrote, it was a cool quote I found by my man Fred Rogers, more affectionately known as Mr. Rogers.

This was the quote:

Forgiveness is a strange thing. It can sometimes be easier to forgive our enemies than our friends. It can be hardest of all to forgive people we love. Like all of life’s important coping skills, the ability to forgive and the capacity to let go of resentments most likely take root very early in our lives

He's so noncommittal there at the end of that... It was really the trueness of that line "It can be hardest of all to forgive people we love." that got me thinking about forgiveness and led me to post that.

Within seconds of posting it, people were hitting the like button and reblogging it, and I realized just how relevant it was for the season. Duh, it was Dec 1st, and more than anything else this is the time of year people are gearing up to forgive the people they are supposed to love so that they can stand to be around one another over the holidays. It's a sad circle really, people muster up the gumption to let go of grudges and put differences aside, and reach out to one another in the spirit of the season, they dig deep and really make an attempt to make the necessary repairs to their broken relationships. However, by the time New Years is over, most people in this situation have come to realize after spending so much time with this person or people, that they were right in the first place, they are still a HUGE asshole. The feelings almost always mutual, and they all go back to hating one another until next December. They say things like: "I just can't figure out how to forgive them for the way they make me feel." and there are lots of those annoyed grunting sounds.

And despite these yearly failed attempts at forgiveness, they just keep failing... year after year.

But thank god they didn't have to feel guilty over the holidays. Would we really rather be miserable than feel guilty? I mean think of that choice. Miserable from guilt, or misery from being around someone you find insufferable. Why are we so afraid of guilt? It seems to weigh the most-- Guilt is like this snarling fat-assed 4 armed loudmouth monster bully that knocks you over, sits on your chest, and then pins you down and takes turns slapping your face with its four hands and won't leave you alone about what a jerk you are for hurting other peoples feelings. With each smack it reminds us of how sad we are making other people by our behavior. It says something biting and true towards our obvious selfishness to not consider someone else.

It seems that old haunty Guilt comes to town way more than jolly Saint Nick ever has. My feeling is that if your motivation to mend and forgive is solely to avoid the Guilt Monster, then you're making a bad choice. If you have truly felt forgiveness in your heart and you can take the time to reconnect, than that is a gorgeous thing, and it's what truly makes this time of year magical for some people. I love that about this season, it really can be powerful enough to bring people back together, it gives us glimpses at humanity that we often don't see the rest of the year. Forgiveness is possible. Why do you think I sob at the end of every Home Alone ever made? Because that little brat and his mom have the ultimate forgiveness hugout at the end of the movie, and I wish it was me standing there. I don't think the success of that movie franchise has much to do with the relentless beatings Joe Pesci and Daniel Stern take, I'm pretty sure it's the gratuitous display of forgiveness at the end. We see that it's possible to come back and find one another again, the child like feelings of uncluttered love. That embrace, people long for it to be true again. That whole movies message is "I love you no matter what, despite all the offensive and shitty things you just did. Merry Christmas."

For every person that's excited to go home for Christmas, there is someone else who is terrified and dreading it. One can't relate to the other. I hear people say, "I would rather be miserable than alone over Christmas." How many people in this situation ever consider mending their relationships with being alone? Maybe try and fix that first. It's probably a more manageable feat than finding new commonalties and bonds with broken friendships and family. I have heard claims that the people most successful in relationships are the ones that figured out how to be alone and love who they are when they're flying solo way before they ever got into a relationship with someone else. What if this is 100% true? Who actively tries to love being alone? Most people are running around trying to figure out how to never end up this way. It's been beaten into us that it's the worst thing you can be, completely by yourself. We have this terrible picture ingrained into us that if you're alone, it must be because something is wrong with you.

You know what's really hard to do by yourself? Feel guilty.

For whatever reason, the fear of feeling guilty makes us do and tolerate things that shouldn't be done or tolerated. I know of situations where others have allowed themselves to be put into harms way, and endure unspeakable abuse, just because they would rather not feel the guilt of making someone else feel rejected or alone. Here is the deal, if you think someone is crummy and cruel and you hate the way they treat you, a sale at the Mall, and twinkle lights, and cocoa isn't going to change any of that.

So instead of worrying about the guilt this year, I say try a year where you break the cycle, don't reach out to people that you know are wrong and have hurt you in the past. Break the cycle this year. What if that is the very thing that brings on actual forgiveness?

When was the last time you enjoyed the holidays? Maybe this year make it a point to have a face off with Guilt and battle that monster off your chest and out of your business. Surround yourself solely with people that inspire you, support you, love you for who you are. Don't buy presents for anyone that makes you feel bad. Don't sit in church if you don't believe in God, don't have people into your home that make you hurt. You have 23 days from right now, to figure out how to make this holiday feel good for you and your loved ones. These are your memories to make, and they shouldn't be dictated by people that make you feel bad.

For me, it took me my entire adult life to figure out that when I am around my parents, I need to remember that I like how I turned out. If I do this, there is nothing that can be said that can hurt my feelings or get me down. At the risk of sounding like Stewart Smalley-- I like me. And no matter what, my parents had a huge amount to do with who I became, whether they encouraged or discouraged, they put me on the paths that led me to this life, and I have a good one. So it makes me appreciate them in ways I never could before. They loved me. That's an incredibly difficult thing to do for some people, and with the kind of teenager I was, my parents are saints for sticking by me.

Parents suggest, and nudge, and push, and in turn we embrace or resist, but either way they put us in motion to find ourselves. That's enormous power and they wielded it the best they could, are we doing any better? I think it tends to sneak up on everyone that has ever been a parent. All the sudden you're standing there in front of your own children and you're thinking, I'm never going to make the mistakes that my parents made, and then you realize, well there it is again, your parents continued influence on you. They are still leading you down paths. They made the mistakes ahead of us, and now we are making our very own, and so on, and so on, and so on, and so the story goes. All we can do is our best, and the hope for me is that I can recognize my mistakes as they are made and keep the kids on paths that will always lead back to love.

Forgiveness.

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Proud

A few days ago while Cole and I were busy in the kitchen, Tessa was keeping herself busy playing. She was deep into something good, because she wasn't in the kitchen getting under our legs the whole time. I couldn't see what she was doing, but I could hear her giving instructions: "You sit here" and "you here." and then she would follow with: "like that. Good!"

"Say cheese. Oh! That's good."

We kept hearing her say "cheese" and then I would hear the toy camera going off.

I walk into the living room and saw the magic she had created-- she went and fished Woody and Jesse out of the toy box, and had posed them neatly on the couch, holding hands and everything, and was now taking pictures of them, stopping in between shots to give instructions and compliments. I was most impressed that she actually found their little hats, and had placed them appropriately on top of their heads. This went on for awhile. She had herself a couples portrait session, and she didn't need any help at all from me. From what I could tell she was very professional and fun to work with, the only problem I noticed was that she had the camera facing the wrong way most of the time, but she did eventually figure that out.

All I had handy was my iPhone to document this moment, and only managed two shots before she stopped what she was doing when she realized I was shooting her scene out. Photographers HATE it when people steal their shots, and really don't like someone shooting over their shoulder.

So yeah, I'm going to guess that she is going to be taking prettier more thoughtful photos than me by the time she is 4 if she keeps this up. So proud of her.

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