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/Ever have one of those days where you have nothing to say? Yeah, me too.
Ever have one of those days where you have nothing to say? Yeah, me too.
This is a week of tying up loose ends. I'm finally (finally!) getting around to sending out long past due invoices in an effort to get all monies in I'm owed before the New Year. I'm tying off small projects as I prepare to hit a big one Monday monring with full steam. The house is clean, Blair's sister and our nephew arrive this afternoon for Thanksgiving, and I have forbidden my cold to get any worse.
Blair and I have 4-5 small household/finance projects that need to be dealt with this weekend. And--yuck, yuck, yuck--we'll pull the holiday decorations out this weekend and get the tree up and house decorated. (I'd be fine sticking a candy cane on a houseplant and calling it a day. Blair, not so much.) It's time to write the holiday newsleter and start thinking about goals/dreams for 2009. I can't be expected to enter the New Year without a LIST now, can I?
So today is about inovices, e-mail, yoga, a quick treadmill run, and clearing off my desk. (Are matches and kindling an option?) Notice that WRITING is not listed in that to-do list. Monday will kick off a month of hard-core writing days. I have a book that needs to be finished and sent out for editing.
Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Travel safe.
I'm a working girl this week! A friend is on vacation and his employer needed someone to fill in for him for the week. Since I write for the employer at times and somewhat know their business, I volunteered. So this week I'm doing the work thing, 10-4. Which makes for an interesting day. Since I still have my work to do, I'm getting up at 5 to put a few hours in on the laptop before I drive to Greensboro. Then work 10-4. (And they are wonderful, flexible people. If there's a slow spot, I can check my e-mail, read, or do some project writing.) Then I'm running 3 evenings this week and not getting home until 8ish. I told myself before the week began that I'd have to do some nighttime writing, but so far that's not happening. I'd rather go to bed early and get up at 3, if need be, versus work at night. Don't like it--at least not after a full day.
If I'd known a few weeks ago when I agreed to this how busy my schedule would be this week, I probably would have passed on it. But as it is, it's kind of fun. There's been enough to keep me busy but not swamped these last two days and I'm starting to feel like I know what I'm doing. The hardest part for me is the phone. I turn my phones off or ignore them when I'm writing and just return calls later from voicemail. Now I'm responsible for answering the phone and it takes about 3 rings for me to remember, "Oh! That's me!"
This week is also a much needed reminder of HOW MUCH I LIKE WORKING FOR MYSELF, WORKING FROM HOME, AND HAVING A FLEXIBLE SCHEDULE. I know I have it good, but it never hurts to be reminded of that fact. People--I have it good.
I'm typing this in a Panera, checking e-mail before I change clothes and head out to my running group. We're running Fartlek tonight, which is the Swedish word for "speed play." You pick an object in the distance and run to it as fast as you can, then recover. Then run fast for another minute, recover. I've read about it but never actually tried it. I'm curious to see how it goes.
Maybe I'll report on that in the blog at 5 am tomorrow...
Cheers,
Dena
I accepted a couple of magazine assignments a few weeks ago and immediately put them on the back burner in order to work on the book proposal that's been occupying my time. Then I left town for the reunion and have spent the last two days playing catch-up. Which is why I almost fainted this morning when I realized I have less than 2 weeks to get the interviews I need and get these puppies written.
One article requires I interview 5-6 different people. Ideally, I wanted them all together to do a group interview but I was doubtful. What were the chances I could gather 6 busy individuals on the same day, at the same time, with less than a weeks notice?
Strong, apparently. Every single one was free at the day and time I proposed and all are eager to meet. After hanging up the phone with the last person to confirm I turned to my cat, Lucy. "God loves me," I informed her.
The second article is about the Chinqua Penn winery. I called and spoke with the marketing director who suggested I speak with their wine maker next week at a wine tasting event. Sigh. Sometimes as a writer, we're just called upon to make these sacrifices in life. I told her I'd be there.
I'm only leaving myself a few days to write the articles, but they are not complex topics and if I come straight back from either event and start writing, I usually find that's when the images and words flow most readily. It's a struggle though, as writing is usually the last thing I feel like doing after an interview. But I'm just so excited that these interviews came together so quickly, I don't mind a bit. I'll probably throw myself into a writing coma by the end of next week.
Always something to look forward to. That, and the wine... ;)
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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:
And yet.
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. . .
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...
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.”
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.
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.
(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...
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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