spring is the time of plans and projects

Morning, chickens.

The sun’s shining, and even though it’s not even thirty degrees today, it’s the first day of spring, and that means we’re marching toward something a little brighter. My friend MC took this beautiful picture the other day, and it’s really a light spot in my is-it-ever-getting-warmer musings.

 

Maggie Cassidy, capturer of beauty

Last night, my pal LM convinced me to head to the gym, even though it was really the last thing I felt like doing after a long, frustrating-at-the-end day.

I’ve been having too many of those kind of days, you guys.

Anyway.

I hit the treadmill again, and again, it was not pretty (not even in the least), but I’m just going to keep on trucking.

Eventually, my legs are going to remember what it is to keep moving for more than three minutes.

Until then, I’m gonna be patient.

I’m probably not actually going to be patient, but I do promise to at least try not to overdo it and hurt myself.

Moving slowly is hard work, chickadees.

Up today: work, work, work, getting ready for B’s weekend visit, and heading to the most needed bells class in recent history.

Sometimes, a diversion in attention in the form of a tiny, loud, encouraging Russian is just what you need to get everything back into the place it needs to be.

Let’s cruise through this one to the other side, pals.

change the game, don’t let the game change you

This morning I got up just a little bit earlier, to avoid the rushing around that I’m doing almost every other day.

See chickens?

Sometimes I learn from my mistakes.

It’s all about progress, you guys.

Yesterday, I put a stop to my am-i-only-18 ways, and managed to clean up my act in 12 short hours.

work, grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, dinner, yoga.

It’s a magic formula.

I admit that I had a turkey sandwich and mac & cheese and called it a meal.

I’m never gonna be perfect.

Don’t even want to be, really.

Up tonight, I’m hitting the office gym to see if I can have a more successful run than last week.

My annual opening race, which I’ve been doing since 2007, is the Shamrock Shuffle.

This year, I went back and forth on whether or not I wanted to run it.

Probably evident through the fact that I’ve been barely running.

While I hemmed and hawed over whether or not I could get myself to move my legs five miles, registration closed.

So there’s one less decision to make.

However- the sun’s about to warm up this city (soon, I just know it), and I know my joints will be aching with envy when I see my fellow runners hit the street.

So it’s time to get back out there, chickadees.

 

Enjoy this one, pals.

 

everything is okay- mantra for the morning.

Morning, chickens!

The sun is shining here, which is a massive improvement, and despite the fact that NPR just told me it’s 9 degrees with the wind chill, I’ll take this as a step in the right direction.

I’m trying not to remember how deliciously warm it was last year during this week, but so far, it’s not working.

We’ve got a few days here to warm up at least a little bit.

I’m running late this morning, due to the fact that I decided to hit the yoga mat bright and early this morning.

Yoga in the morning is tough with my stubborn joints, but I like to think that pouring some good energy into all of the parts that don’t quite work helps them out.

Plus any day I can start out in a headstand is a day that’s gonna be positive.

It’s a proven fact.

 

Other things of note: last night I attempted a run for the first time in several months.

It was a disaster.

I couldn’t even find the gym at my building, which should have been my first sign that things would take a turn for the worse.

Instead, I wandered around the floor, pretending that visiting the freight elevator was a normal, post-6pm activity on a Tuesday night.

Eventually, I stumbled into the correct door, and got down to it.

 

My knees were heavy, my breath was labored, and I could only do short intervals of running before having to stop and walk.

I tried to remain un-frustrated, which was near impossible, as I reflected on the fact that I was finishing 6 miles easy at this point last year.

That doesn’t mean I’m not trying again.

My legs will take me where I want to go eventually, chickadees.

I can slow it down until then.

every storm runs out of rain

Morning, chickadees!

I’m going to allow the layer of snow I see out on the sidewalk, as long as, Chicago, you promise that this is the last time you’re going to do this.

Capito?

Thank you.

Ok- so I was cruising Pinterest last night (I like to look at all the pictures, but I admit, I skip all the crafts even though I know that’s the whole point), and I stumbled across this one, via my pal MK from work.

 

I think it’s a good one to keep in mind. I’m guilty of taking that for granted on, oh, an hourly basis, and I thought this was extremely fair food for thought on a Monday night.

I think it’s helpful to have a few words to focus on in case you lose perspective.

Last night, the delightful it’s-not-dark at 5:30 tricked me into staying later than I meant to at work, so I scurried home to eat my new favorite dinner, a Luna bar (this is sarcastic, chickens), and then ran to a nice hot studio to work out all the kinks that Monday twisted into.

It was a wobbly practice, and more than once I felt the urge to topple over into the person next to me.

Luckily, I kept it together.

At least at yoga.

Small things, you guys.

Up today: more meetings, being thankful that it’s almost, almost officially spring, and trying to be brave enough to run for the first time in a couple of months.

My legs will welcome me back, right?

Here’s hoping, chicks.

Enjoy this one.

 

keep that face forward.

Welcome to my last day of the work week, chickadees.

NYC, here I come.

Almost.

I’m really looking forward to this weekend away, chiefly because my friends, it has been a long couple of weeks.

When I was in CO, I found myself  super itchy when we were out having a few drinks post-flight. I climbed up on the sink in a tiny, tiny bar bathroom to get a better look at the mirror, and realized I was covered in some kind of allergic reaction.

And after two weeks of medication, doctors’ visits, stitches (yeah, who knew they biopsied allergic reactions?) and speculation, it turns out I’m allergic to my arthritis meds.

Which means that I’m currently not taking anything for my misbehaving joints.

In a panic over achy shoulders and cracking wrists, I hit up the office on Tuesday morning to get another steroid shot (read: magical injection), so I should be in a good place for the next couple of months.

We’ll see what the contingency plan to allergic-to-the-mild-medication ends up being.

In the meantime, I’ve been doing as much yoga as I can (damage control, maybe?) and hit the treadmill this morning for my first run since Thanksgiving.

My latest specialist, a dermatologist, advised me that a run could possibly pull out my stitches, but chickens, I say: run while you can.

And keep your eyes on what’s in front of you.

 

as much has been given us, much will be expected from us

Happy Thanksgiving, chickadees!

I’m thankful for all kinds of things this year, including my family, friends, health, beautiful city, lovely weather, and the day of football and food I’m about to receive.

I’m a lucky girl, chicks.

Also, I’m thankful that I had the chance to run a 5k with my family this morning to start off our day in the sunshine, and especially that I got to run with my dad for his first race.

Which we rocked in 33:50, 2 minutes and 10 seconds faster than our anticipated goal time.

I see big races in our future.

I know I’m wearing bright green. I thought it might be nice to look my brightest out there.

I’m excited for a day of literally hanging around, since we prepped almost all of our dishes last night.

And we have a lot of dishes, including soup, a million vegetable sides, and a lasagna.

We’re Italian. We eat lasagnas on every holiday. Or some other sauce-pasta-cheese combination.

We can’t help it, and honestly, we don’t really want to help it.

Sitting around the dinner table last night, we wondered if maybe we should put up a sign somewhere encouraging those with no family in town to come eat our (sort of) embarrassing amount of food.

No one should eat at a restaurant when what’s going on in our refrigerator exists.

And with that, I’m off to to do some breakfast eating, coffee drinking, and parade watching.

Happy Thanksgiving, chickens. I hope you have a wonderful, laughing-filled day with the people you love.

 

hitting the finish line.

Morning, sweet chickadees.

I’ll be making this one short, since I have presentations to finish and little sisters to hang out with this morning.

Can you guess which one I’m more excited about?

In any case, we’re five seconds from Thanksgiving, which is actually in contention for my favorite holiday because it involves delicious food and none of the pressures of Christmas.

There are no Thanksgiving gifts, except for a second plate.

For that I am thankful.

Other things I’m thankful for: the S family, who fed me dinner, made me laugh, and hung out with me last night while JW finished up his last final for the quarter.

Tobin was suspicious of me last night, which basically meant he started wailing as soon as I stepped into the car, and it took extensive convincing for me to get him to agree, that yes, I am the best.

I think, though, that by the end of the night, my persuasive nature (and maybe also Madagascar 3) had him convinced that I was good people.

 

Up today: five seconds of work, a practice run with my dad and sissy for our 5k glory tomorrow, and hanging out with la mia famiglia.

I hope everyone’s gearing up to enjoy a lovely, lovely holiday weekend.

Enjoy it, chicks!

pushing through the wreckage.

Morning, chickadees.

We’ve hit the dead center of the work week.

And I look forward to toppling right over the edge.

*****

After more than six years in our building on Michigan Avenue, my company is moving offices. We’re not headed far, but the week of cleaning and packing has me all nostalgic about how long I’ve been hanging in my cubicle.

Also, it’s forcing me to clean out my desk.

Among the wreckage so far: two t-shirts, endless supplies of gummy rattlesnakes, three rulers (that I’ve never used), one million unused post-it notes, and strangest of all, an unopened bottle of expired chocolate syrup and a half used jar of chocolate sprinkles.

I almost wish I had a valid explanation for some of these items.

Some things are better left to the unknown, I think.

*****

This morning, I headed to the gym to start my second to last week of the 5k program I’ve been working with my dad.

Progress is being made, chickens. 25 minutes are being run without my joints seizing up in protest.

Next week’s race, I have decided, is gonna be awesome.

Yoga tonight, however, might be a sore bones undertaking.

You can’t win them all, I guess.

Otherwise, what would be left to do?

 

 

 

 

launching into another place.

Hey there chickadees.

We made it through Monday.

Whew.

Last night, I left my cubicle early and headed to Lakeview for a long overdue massage.

Which was pretty much amazing on my tired joints.

“You have very tight forearms,” said my masseuse, and then explained that it’s not something she normally sees.

So much downward dog, chickadees.

Speaking of which, after my massage and some dinner, I headed back to Spring for another round of hot yoga.

Last night I threw my mat down in front of a heat lamp unintentionally (why would no one be in this spot, I wondered, before noticing the rays beating down on me), which meant for a slippery practice.

However, during class, for the first time in my short history of trying to regularly practice yoga, I threw myself into a headstand without any assistance.

I wanted to hang out there all night.

Talk about tight forearms, though.

Unfortunately, I’m not so graceful at the dismount yet, so when I kicked down, I mostly just fell onto my hip and splayed across my mat.

Practice makes perfect though, right chicks?

Up today: moving slowly, heading to the gym for the run (I may have taken on outside running, but it’s not even 30 degrees here. You can’t make me do it), and relaxing.

Anyone have a good forearm stretch?

Enjoy this one!

this is just a journey/drop your worries

Welcome to the actual weekend, chicks.

It’s a beautiful thing.

Yesterday, during my excellent day off, I decided to hit the concrete for my longest post-RA run yet, 20 straight minutes.

Again, pause to acknowledge that this a long road back to where I came from.

<pause>

Okay, moving on.

Right before I left for the run, I snagged a couple of gross, half-filled beer bottles that had been hanging out on my deck, and immediately spilled them on myself.

Which meant that I headed out on a run smelling like a bar.

No sweat though.

*****

Next, I panicked when I couldn’t find my keys.

I imagined I’d be stuck inside all day, as I rifled through a bunch of bags and coats with no luck, muttering to myself that really, you need to be more responsible with your things.

The keys were in my pocket.

*****

I took off on a sunny, chilly run, taking turns wherever I felt like it along the route. Eventually, I found myself on Clark, headed toward Wrigley Field.

I was feeling strong, when all of a sudden, I tripped over myself and the contents of my coat, including my phone, went flying right in front of the marquee.

Five minutes later, post collecting all the pieces of my phone off the ground and dusting myself off, the phone miraculously turned back on and I hit the streets again.

I was feeling a little deflated. I think because of my slightly slower pace recently, I haven’t figured out how to pick my feet up all the way in my stride, which keeps leading to me wiping out at inopportune times.

Not that there’s a particularly opportune time to bite it during a run.

In any case, Andy Grammer came on my Pandora, coming to the rescue with a little “Keep Your Head Up.” It got me back in gear, and I finished my run without incident.

And so, on this chilly Saturday, I share with you my new, possibly teeny bopper tune.

I take what I can get chickadees.

Enjoy the sunshine if you’ve got it.