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.

 

 

 

stretching out the days.

Morning, chickadees.

And sorry I’m a little late today, but yesterday was a long day, and I took today off from work, so I had no real reason to stir before it was necessary.

I took today off without even a plan, you guys.

Scandalous, I know.

But now that it’s past 8:00 AM, I’ve decided running, soup-making (suggestions welcome), and general life tidying are on the agenda.

Also: writing curled up in my bed, which is a thing I have never tried before and have very quickly decided that I like.

If only JW had made some coffee before he left for work today.

Guys, the coffee machine is a thing that I fear, for some reason.

However, I fear not drinking any coffee more than I fear the process itself, so eventually, I’ll have to leave behind my comforter and figure that beast out.

Which might end in a trip to Starbucks.

It’s too early to tell.

In any case, even if you’re at work today, it’s Friday, which is encouraging, and means that the weekend is just about universally upon us. I hope everyone’s got relaxing plans for what I’m sure will be another chilly two days.

It’s November now, chickadees. It’s official: summer’s not coming back until next year.

I’ll get back to you on how I really feel about that.

 

 

hitting delete for miles.

Morning, chickens!

As you’re laying eyes on this, I’m in Schaumburg at a work event after (hopefully) navigating a vehicle successfully to the suburbs.

Sometimes it’s necessary to tackle your fears head on, pals.

Except maybe not really head on, since I left at six am to avoid traffic.

One step at a time.

*****
Last night, I headed to my parents’ house for dinner and to grab the aforementioned car.

After dinner, my dad asked to use my computer to transfer some files.

Then he saw my desktop and gasped.

“No one will employ you if it looks like this!” he proclaimed, shaking his head.

I didn’t mention the fact that some has, actually, been employing me for years.

Things continued in this manner until I finally grabbed the laptop, went through my old files, and hit delete approximately one million times.

This is what it looks like now:

The Before picture is so bad that it doesn’t even exist.

I couldn’t have that getting out.

In any case, chickens, I’m feeling more organized this morning.

And my dad is officially not allowed in my cubicle, which is the physical interpretation of the Before desktop.

We can’t all live uncluttered lives.

*****

In more positive news, I ran yesterday in the morning, and then repeated with my dad amidst all of the trick-or-treaters in the evening.

We finished almost another 2.5 miles, putting me at over 5 for the day.

The only snafu was when I nearly bit it in the middle of the street (probably because of obscure Spin Doctors exhaustion), but through a miracle of balance I managed to pull myself up before my face hit the pavement.

I might be a mess, chickadees, but honestly, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

if wishes were horses…I don’t know.

Morning, chickadees!

And Happy Halloween!

I confess, the only scary part about my day is that I have 9 meetings today.

Frightening, right?

This morning, deciding that the wind was too intense for me to take myself out into, I headed back to the Y to complete my longest workout yet.

Let me tell you chickens, it is a humbling experience to go from running half marathons without stopping to running eight minutes without stopping.

However, despite feeling much better on my current medication, I am trying to reason with myself that there is simply no need to both injure myself doing too much AND also having RA.

Putting this into practice is fairly difficult, but I’m working on it.

And I’m breezing through my eight minutes of running without a heavy breath, which is a sign that things are back on track.

Let’s just call this interval running, shall we?

Great.

Also worth mentioning: on my Pandora, which is of course still set to Hits of the 90s, I seem to be coming across every Spin Doctors song that has ever existed.

This obviously delights me.

However, I would like to put out into the world for discussion the fact that the Spin Doctors have written some pretty weird shit.

For instance, in the song If Wishes were Horses, I am forced to listen to the chorus repeat “If wishes were horses/beggars would ride” over and over again, nearly falling off the treadmill laughing.

In closing, I advise you to check it out for yourself.

The 90s were an awesome time chickens- let’s not forget that.

I’ll stick to Little Miss Can’t Be Wrong though, in the meantime.

 

 

 

early mornings and big days.

Chickens, I confess that yesterday was a really lazy day in my household.

As in, I didn’t leave my apartment.

Things I did instead:

Watched the Bears’ game, which, guys, I’m really glad we won, but oh man we did not deserve it one bit.

source

Thanks again, Robbie, for saving the game (AGAIN).

In honor of playing the Carolina Panthers (who almost won the game, let us all remember), we made pulled pork, fried chicken, and mashed potatoes that we may or may not have added an entire block of cheddar cheese to before serving.

This was much more satisfying than the 60 minutes of football I watched.

Post-football, I spent the afternoon lounging around, thumbing through cookbooks and old Bon Appetit magazines, and watching this Halloween classic:

source

Hocus Pocus is hands down the best holiday movie to come out of the 90s.

I can’t get enough of a movie that includes a talking cat, Bette Midler, and ridiculous 1990s slang such as “tubular.”

How can you resist that?

I can’t either.

In other news, this morning I have already been more productive than the entirety of yesterday, running 3 miles in the cold (but not cold enough for all the layers I had on, I realized as I sweated profusely through the last mile), making breakfast, and getting ready to head to work.

Tonight: eating the last of the Farmers’ Market vegetable haul with Ky, who turns 28 today! Ky’s been my pal since I was 11, which means she’s the real deal. I hope this is the most fun year yet, and the witchiest. Thanks for being my partner in crime!

at some point we all have to come clean.

Hey there chickadees.

And welcome to another installment of: I am so sorry, I’ve been keeping secrets again.

Sometimes, I just need to frame it up on my own first.

It doesn’t mean I love you any less.

This time, I’m writing to tell you that I had some not-so-great news recently.

Read: also, not-so-terrible.

In any case.

For the past 8 weeks, give or take, my body’s been in a fairly terrible place.

Around Labor Day, I woke up with swollen fingers and stiffness in my joints.

I ignored them, like any normal, usually-healthy, 28-year old girl, and left on a cross-country work trip that lasted about 10 days.

Things got worse. My hands and feet were giant-sized, my bones ached, and I had to sleep with hotel pillows under my legs.

It must be all this salty food, I reasoned. Or the drinking. And the long hours. And the lack of sleep, I was sure.

A little nagging voice in the back of my head might have mentioned that this had never happened before as a result of any of those things, but I pushed it away.

When I got back from my trips and I felt increasingly miserable, I made a doctor’s appointment.

Which was about when things got a bit scary for me.

At the same time my doctor was giving me blood tests, x-raying my chest, and sending me for an echocardiogram, I was simultaneously not sleeping, losing my grip on simple things like coffee cups, and starting to ache in my shoulders and my knees.

I started a Couch to 5K program with my dad, partly because I want him to be a runner like me, and partly because my joints hurt too much to run more than 90 seconds at a time.

But I knew I had to keep moving, chickens.

Thankfully, my blood, organs, and most importantly, my heart (please don’t let it be my heart, I thought to myself), all checked out.

My bones still ached.

In a fit of I can control anything through my sheer willpower, I cut out caffeine. And meat. And salt. And alcohol.

I was hungry.

And cranky.

I was basically living on sweet potatoes and grapefruit juice (chicks, I don’t even freaking like grapefruit juice…sick), since I had deemed those healing foods.

Despite all of that, my rings still didn’t fit.

My fingers couldn’t fasten buttons, pull up zippers, or tie shoes in the morning.

I thought about investing in velcro sneakers and dresses, for just one second, when I was trying to figure out how on earth I could get up early enough to complete the lengthy task of getting dressed and still get to work on time.

I swam so much that I couldn’t tell if my shoulders hurt because of what was happening or because I was slamming them into the water out of frustration.

Finally, finally, I went to see a rheumotologist last week, who took one long look at my swollen hands, listened to my story, and told me I have rheumatoid arthritis.

Which is not awesome, when you’re not thirty.

Or really any time at all, I guess.

To be honest though, for it to have a name and a plan was literally all I needed to feel like I could get a handle on what was happening to me.

Like one of my historical bffs Winston Churchill, I do better when I have something to fight against.

My doctor gave me a shot of steroids, explained my options (more steroids) for what is a chronic (read: not going away) condition,  and sent me on my way, armed with information and a couple of possible treatment plans.

The steroids made me feel like myself, and honestly, chickens, that’s what I needed.

I know they won’t last forever, but sometimes, you just need a jumpstart.

Next up: tackling this head on, because it’s the only thing I know how to do.

Also, being thankful for my friends and family, who insisted that I eat something other than a sweet potato and also kept me from doing ridiculous things (read: kettlebells) when I couldn’t make a fist over the past two months.

So I’m letting you know why I might be moving a little slower than usual.

But then, I’ve never been one to equate being down with being out.

I’ve got that 5k to hit next month, after all.

rainy days/cold ones ahead.

Morning, chicks.

And welcome to the middle of the week.

It’s been a pretty rainy, gray couple of days, but it did give me the opportunity to catch some of these wet leaves hanging out in my neighborhood.

Also, the weather’s been unseasonably warm, which is perfect for the run I have planned later today.

The one for which the weather gods have promised me it won’t rain during.

We’ll see about that one, though.

However, I anticipate that the warm temperatures, in the end, won’t do us any favors, and that when it finally does get cold (read: probably this weekend), we’ll all scowl and be outraged, even though we knew this was coming.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Last night, I met my dear friend MC for a pumpkin-carving-night turned sushi, wine, and gabfest, which was 100% what I needed.

Especially since carving pumpkins in not in my uncoordinated, un-crafty repertoire of skills.

I can barely peel a butternut squash, when put to the task.

So dinner and conversation seemed like the safer route, in this instance.

Sometimes you just need conversation and maki to keep the wheels turning, chickadees.

Enjoy the weather, chicks- just make sure you know where your coats are.

 

 

bear down and chin up.

Ok, chickadees, we’ve hit the start of another week, and I will admit, I am in a very upbeat mood for a Monday morning.

This could be because I started the day with a run through the sun-is-not-quite-up neighborhood.

Somehow dodging garbage trucks and hitting the pavement really does it for me.

I won’t try to explain myself.

I’m a city girl- what can I say?

However, just because I prefer sidewalks and public transportation does not mean I can’t appreciate the beauty of this time of the year on the outside.

And thus, I present you with my hipster-y-est pictures from the weekend past.

 

It was, as you can see, another lovely weekend in the Second City, which included hay stacks, long walks, bike rides, cooking, and all my pals.

Up tonight to round things out: the last presidential debate, which I’ll be watching late this night/early this morning, because although my love of politics and sports is neck-and-neck, it seems more prudent to take in the Bears game live.

Also, I’ve been promised chili, cornbread, and good company.

Mr. President, I promise all my cheers to win the game include you right in there.

source

Enjoy this one, chickens. I know I will.

 

if you could go anywhere, anywhere/what would you see?

Happy weekend, chickens, and welcome to it.

The sun’s finally out here in Chicago, which nearly makes all the rain we had this week worth it.

It’s been a busy morning already, cleaning up for our impending pizza party and visiting the Farmers’ Market, which has one more week left in its schedule.

<Sob.>

It is, however, a beautiful time to be a the market. I may have picked up a cauliflower that is about two times bigger than my head.

I see interesting culinary things in its future.

If I can process it into something more manageable.

In any case, here’s to enjoying the harvest while it lasts, right?

Winter moves faster than you think, is what I’m going with this year.

We’ll see how that one serves me in February.

Also up today: running with my dad, making sauce, slicing vegetables, grating cheese, seeing good friends, and drinking wine and eating pizza.

One of my favorite kinds of Saturday nights.

In addition, laying my eyes on my godson and hanging out with the whole S family.

Nothing better, if you ask me.

Today is the best kind of day, chickadees.

Get out there and enjoy every second of it that’s left.