Well, This Is Awkward

Hello. Remember me?

I used to write things here, and then I disappeared for what appears to have been several presidential administrations.

I’d like to say I spent that time traveling the world, finding myself, or developing a deeply impressive spiritual practice. In reality, I was mostly working, caregiving, arguing with technology, and trying to find the password for my Netflix account.

I’m writing regularly again, but I’ve moved the new material over to Substack, where my newsletter is called Notes on Not Screaming.

It’s humor about making sense of adulthood, caregiving for my mom, relationships, dogs, and other situations for which I feel there should have been training.

You can read and follow me here:

Visit Notes on Not Screaming

It’s free to subscribe, although paid subscriptions are also available for anyone who feels strongly that I should be financially rewarded for not screaming in public.

I’d love to see you there. Especially since I’ve finally remembered how to log into this website.

March 4, 2018

Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty…

I want a cat.

There, I’ve said it. Proclaimed my intent to the Universe. Although I’m only willing to accept moderate blame when events transpire to actually bring a cat into my life.

I have no business getting a cat. A few strong reasons off the top of my head include:

I’m allergic.
My lease doesn’t currently allow for pets.
I’m allergic.
I’M NEVER HOME. This poor animal would be alone 80% of the time.
The last thing I need are more expenses in my life.
Did I mention that I’m allergic?

And yet.

February 18, 2018

So, You Know About the Atlanta Traffic, Right?

When I began sharing the news that I had taken a new job near Atlanta and was moving . . . spreading my wings. . . opening myself to new horizons. . . without fail the first comment from almost everyone was, “OMG. You know about the traffic there, right?”

Yes, I am aware of the traffic. Thank you for your loving concern and support.

So how bad is it really? Having lived here now for three months, I can tell you that the 12-mile drive to my office from home can take anywhere between. . .

January 21, 2018

Will Run for Friends

One of the hardest decisions in moving to Atlanta was knowing I would be leaving behind my 25-year network of friends. These are friends that saw me through job changes (insurance adjuster, librarian, author, marketing maven), life changes (divorce, moves, dating), as well as were there for everything from my first published book to my first marathon to holding my hand when my cat died. A lot of years, a lot tears, much more laughter, and oodles and oodles of love.

In other words—not something easily replaced.

Of course, I’m not “leaving behind” friends but since the five-hour drive between Atlanta and Greensboro isn’t convenient for a quick movie or fro-yo meet-up, the burden is on me to make new friends.

The obvious place to make friends, for me, is the gym. I joined a big-ass Lifetime Fitness...

January 17, 2018

The Saga of the License Plate

As most of you know, after 20+ years in NC, I’ve recently relocated to Georgia, about an hour outside of Atlanta. More updates on that later. Right now, I want to share with you the saga of the license plate. It’s a story that more or less sums up my life. What takes other people twenty minutes, takes me 9 weeks, 8 phone calls, 4 DMV visits and a two-week plan to evade the law.

It all started the week I moved to Georgia. I was checking things off my list right and left (pictures hung in new home - check. Food in fridge – check. Wall art for half-bath – check, check, check) and in an effort to be pro-active, toddled off to the DMV to get my GA driver’s license. I showed up prepared for anything – NC driver’s license, passport, pay stub, and invoices from gas, electric and trash removal verifying my new address. I approached the teller window.

Teller: “Social security card.”

Me: “I don’t have that, but here’s my passport.”

Teller: “I can’t issue you a license without a social security card.”

August 28, 2017

5 Training Tips Anyone Can Use

I get a lot of questions about the best ways to train. Which, considering I spent the earlier part of this year on crutches, unable to run for four months due to an overuse injury that could have been avoided, I find somewhat amusing. Then there’s the immediate back-pedalling that takes place, usually in the form of, “But I don’t want to run, or get up at 4 am, or do anything that’s hard.”

Gotcha. I can work with that.

Below are five training tips I try to follow. I say try because let’s be honest—we’re all human and some days will be better than others. But these are the big picture items that have kept me pushing for the last ten years, and they are things anyone can adopt into their lifestyle.

1. Pick Something You Love

I can’t count the number of times people say to me, “Ugh, I know I need to run but I hate it.” Um… why exactly do you need to run? I hate Pure Barre and even though my butt never looked better during the month I took classes, I’m not going back.

July 3, 2017

Raleigh 70.3, Part III: The Run

When I first signed up for this half Ironman, I knew my swim would be slow and my ride would be average, so the plan was to make-up some time on the run. The Universe had other plans though, and handed me the stress fracture in my hip. It was literally only days before the race when my chiropractor agreed that I could try a walk/run of the course, but only if I swore a blood oath that if it hurt, I would stop. And, in a cruel twist of fate, advised that my best strategy would be to run the uphills and walk the down. That goes against everything I hold dear in life, but okay. I figured I would run a mile/walk a mile throughout the race for as long as I could.

My strategy worked perfectly… for the first quarter mile.

June 27, 2017

Raleigh 70.3, Part II: THE BIKE

(ICYMI: Part I: THE SWIM)

Let’s call it like it is. I crushed the ride on this race. 18.71 average speed. My normal pace with a group where I’m drafting is closer to 17.5, so I had aspirations of maybe holding a 17 mph average. Crushed. It.

What helped me is my Garmin died before the ride even started, so I had no idea for the entire 56 miles what my pace was. I just rode according to how I felt. The first 3-5 miles were shaky (I kept repeating, “You’re out of the water. You’re alive.”), but then we turned right onto the highway, I settled into my arrow bars and literally said out loud, “Let’s make some time.”

Fun fact: They mark your age in sharpie on your left calf in an Ironman race. Not sure why, but...

June 22, 2017

Raleigh 70.3, Part I: THE SWIM

On Sunday, June 4, I completed my first (because there will be more) Half Ironman. 1.2 mile swim. 56 mile bike ride. 13.1 mile run.

Being my first IM, there’s a lot to process, especially as I didn’t think I’d be able to complete the race due to my hip injury. I am thrilled beyond all words that I finished and probably most proud of the fact that I have (as of yet) to get the IM tattoo splattered across, you know, my face.

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Dena Harris

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