Copenhagen Round 2: The Denouement

After three absolutely perfect days in the Faroe Islands, and one day of picture-perfect views and heartbreak, it was time for our return to Copenhagen!

Feelin' so fly like a G6...

Saturday

• We thoroughly enjoyed one last Faroese breakfast in our grassy-roofed hotel, and spent some time rearranging what had become rather messy suitcases during our two day stay in Tórshavn, before checking out. After one last quick visit to the harbor and a stop by the post office (the beau's ma collects stamps!), we were back off to Vagar airport - the scene of much heartbreak less than 24 hours prior. 
• En route, we made one quick stop at the lost hamlet of Kvívík - aka the village we couldn't find on our first day because Google thought it was inside a mountain. This time: we found it! And it was awesome. I'd say the beau had to "drag me back to the car," but really he just said "Okay well, I'm going back to the car, we can't linger too long because we have to return the car by xyz time, and if you don't get to the car in a few minutes then I'm going to leave...." and I said "Good, then I can stay forever, bye!" and ran off into the hillside. Typical.

Where in the world is Kvívík? Right there!

• Right near the airport, we stopped alongside the road to explore some old boathouses along Sørvágsvatn and finish up our remaining road-snacks. Since we had to return the car several hours before our flight (so as not to pay the extra day), we were a bit stuck. For a small fee, you can leave your luggage with the tourism office there and go on foot to explore, but I was only able to drag the beau out to sit in the parking lot (which still somehow had stunning views). From there, it was a two second walk through security and several hours as the only people in the gate area. Which meant tons of time to explore the duty-free area! Unfortunately, we had security to go through the next day in Copenhagen, so couldn't smuggle along any Faroese beer (they have one brewery on the islands!).

I try to get one of these photos everywhere we go.
Fun fact: there are very few sewer covers in the Faroes,
and none of them that we saw had any Faroese on them, so...
you'll just have to trust me on this one. 

• After our day in the airport and a flight in which we watched a newly married couple get all the free swag (seriously, should've just invested in Mr and Mrs shirts), we were finally back in Denmark proper.  
• Copenhagen on a Saturday night is a far cry from the chill city vibe we got on Monday night. The downtown was alight with trolleys carrying drunken bachelorette parties, their off pitch  ABBA singalongs echoing in the streets. The bar crowd was spilled over into the streets. And there was a clear lack of regard for OWI when it came to bicycles. Amongst that chaos, we were starved.
• Because I'm all about tourism (and never miss a chance at fireworks), we rapidly checked into our hotel first and then ran to catch the lights and explosions over at Tivoli - the amusement park that Disneyland is based off of. Unfortunately, by the time that was over, almost all the food options were closed. Which means, after a long week of hiking and exhaustion... we opted for a last resort. We got Burger King. 
• We took our Whoppers back to the coolest frickin' hotel: Hotel Alexandra. Upon arrival we claimed our free glass of wine, grabbed our giant brass key from the witty man (Jonas) behind the desk, and had ourselves a picnic on the floor of our room. Each room had a different layout/decor and is furnished with awesome midcentury modern pieces. It is so damn retro chic that I was totally obsessed. Our room was how my dream tiny New York apartment would look. It was perfect.

In an ideal world...

Sunday

• The next morning started early so we could leave the hotel by 9 am to grab breakfast. We headed to the "Next Door Cafe" adorable hipster spot with limited seating (ie we sat on a random bench out on the cobblestoned street), awesome food, and witty / fabulous service (our "table marker" was a rubber duck). It was a good thing we got there early, because it's clearly a hot spot. 

Good Eats.

• Back at the hotel, I did one final recombobulation of my suitcase. Between our two carry-ons, we managed to squeeze in everything we'd bought and all our dirty laundry. As we packed up, there was an unfortunate turn of stomach in which I deeply regretted our adorable glass walled bathroom and made the beau leave for a stint (#traveltruths #burgerking). And then, it was time to leave, we had a plane to catch...
• Not one to miss an opportunity to see a church, I insisted we hop off the metro on our way to the airport and see the Church of Our Saviour. Known for it's iconic helix spire, we'd seen it in the distance throughout our time in Copenhagen. We unfortunately didn't have enough time to climb the winding external staircase up to the top to see the view, but it's definitely on my list for next time!
• At the airport, we made it through the highly efficient security line so fast that we found ourselves with several hours of wait time. If you have to wait anywhere, it may as well be in CPH - the place is HUGE! Their shops and duty-free area were extensive. We both took turns  exploring the massive duty-free shop. Mostly because hauling suitcases around in there would be insane (there are hordes of people literally stockin' up), and because I wanted to surprise the beau by buying him some Danish beer. (Yes, that beer did shake around in my backpack for the next twelve hours as we journeyed home. And yes, I did panic a little about having "nothing to declare" as it sloshed back and forth. But, it all worked out and he was indeed surprised!)
• After putzing around for a good long while, we started to work towards our gate. Only to discover: there was another line. Had we known, we'd have not lollygagged around! This time was an additional passport check - with the EU citizen line flying by, and the rest of us piled up waiting. Following some mild worry on my part,* we were through. In fact, we made it just in time really. So thank goodness I didn't dilly dally longer before realizing there was that extra line!
• With a departure around 4pm Copenhagen time and an arrival back to Chicago around 6pm, we both settled in to stay awake! (NOT TODAY, JET LAG!) This flight had another delicious dinner and a "snack" meal - I was once again stupid impressed by the meals on SAS. We both also had a movie binge. I had enough time to tackle: the newest Maze Runner movie (awful, fast forwarded most of it), The Shape of Water (people were really judgey about what I was watching), and I, Tonya. 

And then, just like that, we were back. Dealing with the insane customs process at O'Hare, chasing after our bus, riding in the sweltering heat back up to Milwaukee, and home. There's no point in pretending that I was happy to be back (sorry, friends and family - no offense!). After such a whirlwind adventure, yes, I was beyond exhausted, but I was also eager for more. Still am. So in the meantime, I'll just keep enjoying the here, until I can go back out and get to the there... 

"I don't wanna go home and you CAN'T MAKE ME!"
she said, stubbornly hiding at the top of a waterfall.

* Because I'm definitely one to jump to conclusions... the beau and I stayed in the same line until we were close to the front and were split into two. My line ended up putting me through very swiftly. Super easy, no issues. So, on the other side of this large glassed off area (with detainment rooms,  security gates, etc.), I waited. And waited. And waited.... And as I stood there waiting, I noticed that there was a specific demographic of other people waiting as well for their loved ones to pass through. I had a horrible flashback to that one episode of the Handmaid's Tale (the one where that Gilmore Girl is at the airport) and started to quietly panic. This was it. This was the moment they started to detain the Jews again... Helllooooo overreaction, it's me, Gina! (But yes, I was already Googling the number for the U.S. Embassy....) 

Copenhagen Round 1: The Whirlwind

Since I've never been called "short winded" in my life.... this is part one of a day-by-day series on our recent trip to Copenhagen and the Faroe Islands, focusing on out first two days. For general thoughts and tips for travelling to these locations, go hit up this heavily bulleted post. 

Coming off a hectic month of work, a royal wedding in which I had to watch my future husband marry a cool (albeit less attractive) other woman, and our yearly 5k, I somehow managed to squeeze in rabid excitement for our looming trip. After months of planning and packing, it was go time. And here's how it allllll began...

Sunday

• Because it's substantially cheaper to fly out of Chicago compared to Milwaukee, leg one of the journey was a bus ride down to Chi. After a drop off from the beau's dad, we were off! We left obnoxiously early, which ended up being a swell idea since, due to traffic, the bus arrived to O'Hare an hour late. 
• After prancing past the British Airways terminal (still decked out for the royal wedding - single tear), we suffered through the ridiculously inefficient security that is the international terminal. (Thanks, O'Hare, for leaving such a great impression on our guests. You suck.) There, we sacrificed a bag of liquids to the TSA gods (seriously, HOW does a ziploc baggie GO MISSING on that five feet of conveyor belt - major flaw there) before breaking from the masses to enjoy some pizza and a beer.
• While dining, we were serenaded by a random youth choir that was rehearsing while waiting at a nearby gate. An audience is an audience, I suppose, no matter where you're queuing! 
• Upon boarding for our 10 pm departure, we were informed that sorry, they had to switch planes and we'd gotten an older model. Comforted by my lack of leg room, I scoped out our fellow passengers, just in case we'd need allies upon crashing. 
• Fun fact: a 10 pm flight comes with TWO meals! Dinner AND breakfast! It's been a hot second since my last transatlantic flight (ten years in fact, almost to the date, since my return from study abroad) that this was just a frickin' delight. Airplane meals are WAY better than I remember! So, major props, SAS. 
• We did dinner and a show (the new Jumanji movie, which we watched on our separate little screens while carefully timing any pauses) and then tried to get some sleep so we could stay up and fight the jetlag upon arrival. 

Go home, plane. You're drunk.

Monday

• It was 1:30 pm Copenhagen time when we arrived, and with a 9:30 pm sunset time, I was stoked to cram in eight hours of exploring! Since we really only had a "24 hour layover" and I wasn't sure how exhausted we'd be on our return layover, I insisted that we see everything possible right away. 
• Since it had been almost a nine hour flight and I was eager to ditch our bags, the first place we aimed for was our hotel, the Copenhagen Strand. We snagged some DKK cashoola and caught the metro. Cheers to Denmark for crushing it on public transit - the metro was clean, efficient and overall just lovely. 
• After a luggage drop and quick showers (fun fact: it ended up being about 75 degrees and I had only packed sweaters so, this gal was a sweaty mess!), it was time for the first of many intricately planned "tours" that I had written up in a Google Doc before out trip. If you want to follow along, here was the "walking tour" I took us on!

Took me awhile to realize København was Copenhagen... derp.

• A short stop from our hotel: the Christiansborg Palace (aka Danish Parliament). We didn't go in, just looked around the outside and checked out the grandiose building while enjoying the beautiful weather. 
• En route to our next stop, I insisted upon getting gelato. We wandered, eating our rapidly melting treats from Gelato Rajissimo, peaking into the occasional shop, and then arrived to the Rundetårn.
• Known as the "Round Tower," for just about $4, you can take the slow and steady spiral walk up to the observation deck atop the tower where you can get a full 360 view of the city. This is a great early stop because it helps you get a bird's eye view of how the city is laid out, so you can sort of see where you'll be heading later to see other sites. Since it's not a strenuous climb to the top, I'd recommend this stop for anyone. There was a gaggle of drunk French women who were particularly enjoying the sites when we were there (we later saw them drinking wine on bicycles in the streets #FrenchAF). Rundetårn also has little history and art exhibits as you spiral up or down. (If you were in a rush, you could go up and down and do a brief look at the exhibits in a half hour even.)

Up on the roof, leaving our mark on the city after a spirally ascent.

• Thanks to my dawdling and constant photo taking, by the time we made our way to Frederik's Church, they had just closed. I could just kick myself at not seeing the inside, because the outside of this huge marble church was just stunning. There were also beautiful lilacs everywhere! 
• Because you just can't go to Copenhagen without seeing it, we next walked along the Kastellet (a star shaped fortress / park area) to get to the Little Mermaid statue. The statue itself was... fine. It was the same somewhat underwhelming feeling I had when seeing the Mona Lisa. It's a beautiful and culturally significant piece of artwork but it's oddly small in real life and so surrounded by tourists that you don't get a chance to really enjoy it. Worth a stop though because there were so many cool gardens and other statues on our walk there, AND a really cool little church that I was obsessed with (aka took fifty photos of). 
• It was getting closer to sunset and was feeding time, so we came back along the canal to head for dinner. Turns out the Royal Run was taking place: a race being run to celebrate the birthday of the Crown Prince, who is apparently an avid runner. At some point, we had missed the royals running (damn it, royal watch fail!) but found ourselves in and out of the course area for the rest of the night. (Because of COURSE there'd be a race wherever we go - the beau was bummed that he didn't know, else he'd have been running it!)
• Dodging the runners, we passed by the Opera House and finally got to Nyhavn. If you've ever seen a postcard of Copenhagen, odds are you saw the Nyhavn. It's the iconic brightly painted houses and restaurants along the canal. Bicycles and merriment to be had by all. We had a restaurant in mind, but it ended up that they only serve Smørrebrød (open faced sandwiches that are a specialty of the region) at lunch. Since the beau really wanted to try them, we instead went to a lovely spot called Nyhavns Faergekro. Sitting outside, eating some delicious local cuisine, watching the runners from a distance, and enjoying a cold beverage after a long day of travelling and walking: it was heaven. 
• We stayed out til after sunset before getting back to the hotel, where we flooded the bathroom (thanks for the lack of shower doors, Europe!) and struggled to stay awake late enough to beat the jet lag. 

Knowing that a week later we'd be back in the city to enjoy more delicious food and sights, it made the introductory whirlwind pretty chill. If we really weren't able to catch something we wanted to see, we'd be able to try and squeeze it in on the way back. The weather was beautiful and it was the perfect jumping point for the entire trip. Because, the next day, we were off to our main destination... the Faroe Islands.

A danish in Denmark, naturally.

My Life as an Accidental Spectathlete

I'm not what one might call "athletic." As a teen, when all my gal pals were picking which Spice Girl best represented them, Sporty Spice wasn't even in my top five. (Yes, I know there were only five. That's how unrelatable I found her, her tracksuits, and ridiculously high pony.) And yet somehow, I've found myself in a relationship with...  a runner.

I assure you, he was not a running man when we started dating, or else my love-being-lazy-Spidey-senses would've gone off. But, as is his way, when he decides to be passionate about something, he goes ALL in. Cue last spring, at which point he had run a total of three 5ks in his life, just for funsies, and was one of those guys who never went to the gym, but somehow stayed super skinny (due to willpower - that personality trait which continues to elude me). Then one day he woke up, and decided that running was his thing. (Very Forrest Gump of him.)

And here we are. A year later. Since that revelation, in 2017, he ticked off the following races (not to mention countless training hours):

• Nine 5ks
• Two 8ks
• One quarter marathon
• Three half marathons
• And one 1-miler burrito run (don't ask)

2018 is just over three months in, and he's already surpassed the 300 mile mark. Beyond practice, we've had four races so far: two 5ks, one 10k, and another half marathon. Of these 20 competitions: I've so far only missed three.* Which means that, despite my general inability to run properly, firm opinion that running should be reserved for snagging the last donut in the break room / fleeing if one's life is in danger (zombies), and overall confusion as to why anyone would put their body through that torture... I've accidentally become a Spectathlete.

Running down the dream....

Being a Spectathlete goes beyond just showing up. That shit's for pansies. That was me, once: wandering aimlessly, bringing way too much shit without having anything helpful, and basically being more of a burden than a help. But now, I'm a well-oiled machine. A mix between the cranky-old-man coach from Rocky, cheerleader, and psychotic mama bear. While he's prepping by putting on the miles, I'm preparing to be the ultimate support system.

So, what does an average race day look like for someone who is acting as beach mom, coach, caddie, chauffeur, dasher, doctor and documentarian, all in one?

PRE
The weeks leading up:

• Constantly check the weather. The worse the predicted conditions, the more annoying I am about convincing the beau that racing is awful and he should stop.
• Read and re-read the event website. Figure out the best place to stake out. Memorize parking and street closure details. (I also scope out what kind of food/rewards will be given, so I know what snacks I can expect to hijack.)

Finisher freebies: breakfast of champions!

The night before:

• Continuous commentary about weather conditions.
• Nail down wake-up time based on start time. Set backup alarms.
• Make sure attire is laid out and ready (last minute laundry, as needed). Add backup race gear into my backpack (extra socks, fresh sweatbands, windbreaker jacket, etc). 
• Carbo load. This is for me, not the beau. He carbo loads prior. This is just an excuse for me to eat more while I stress about him somehow injuring himself the next day. 

The morning of:

• Awake at ass crack of dawn / stupid early. Make sure the beau is up / showering.
• Hydrate and have a quick breakfast. Pack second breakfast (usually candy) to eat while standing along the trail, staring at all the runners sweating and panting. 
• Argue about how he should wear more clothes, it's cold out. Slather some sunscreen on his face and neck as he squirms away. Try to convince him to wear a hat, lose the battle, pack said hat just in case he changes his mind. 
• Add last minute stuff into beach mom backpack - typically just body glide. You know. For the nips. 
• Freak out that we're leaving late and rush out, with a spiked hot cocoa in hand. 
• Since my man's legs don't need to be doing any additional work, I put the pedal to the medal. Sometimes that means a quick drive to an easily accessible lot near the starting line. Other times, it means having left too late and being blocked at every turn by various event barricades and me shrieking, "I'M GOING TO GET YOU TO THIS RACE!" while taking evasive action. 
• Arrive at course. Convince beau to stay in the car as long as possible. 
• Once we're in the throng of people, it's time for pre-race stretches. Because he doesn't stretch on his own ever, in the minutes prior to the start, I force him to do some leg swings, toe taps, and some bring-it-around-towns.
• About 15 minutes before the start, he gets antsy and leaves me to go stand in the corral, pushing his way to be near the pacer of his choice. I go find a spot past the start line and take a zillion rapid click photos trying to capture him among the crowd as the race begins.

Cocoa, cocktails, and cowbells

DURING

• As soon as he's off. I'm out. If it's a long run, I'll hoof it to get food, or will walk about. If the weather is awful, I'll hop back to the car and read or write up my weekly to-do list. If it's a short run, I don't go far. 5ks are a quick ordeal, and I want to be there for the finish. 
• For the long runs, I prop myself up along the route, ready to give the beau a mid-race cheer, a quick kiss, fresh socks, that hat he swore he wouldn't want, a tissue, etc. This also means I'm in prime position to have him chuck his empty water bottle or a sweaty jacket at me, to lighten his load. (At which point, I typically fail to catch whatever he threw, and have to dash into the course to chase after said object.)
• Yes, I carry a cowbell. When I'm not frantically waving it, being a screaming fanatic, it dangles off my beach mom backpack and I sound like a lost, stray sheep.
• Despite my tendency to eat ice cream while spectating, I genuinely try to support all the runners, even if it's stupid early and in typically less-than-optimal conditions. I've learned to yell helpful things, like "Don't forget to breath!" or "There's a GIANT puddle a few yards up - veer left!" or "You're just behind the 8:30 pacer!"
• Depending where I was staked out, sometimes I need to drop into a dead sprint to make it to the finish line in time. Cutting the course and dodging between the crowd to get to that final victory moment. It's a tuck-and-run, speedy little ninja scenario.
• Near the finishing chute, I hold my ground among the proud spouses, moms, and various fan clans. We make small talk. Many of us have already spoken while hanging out along the route. All of us want to catch that final photo of our loved one crossing (or about to cross) that finish line. We need to be there to give that last hurrah and to mop up their sweaty foreheads as they clumsily put on their medal. I'll cut a bitch if they get in the way, even if we're new race-day-BFFs. Plus, sometimes someone pukes after they cross the finish, and who doesn't want to have a front row seat to that ridiculousness??

Keep it up, runners! I'll be right here, snacking.

POST

• As official record keeper, I immediately shove a camera in the beau's reddened face. Especially for the winter races he foolishly signed up for (IN WISCONSIN), I was sure to photograph his frozen misery as a future cautionary reference. And then whatever photo I take, I text to his mom. #BecauseMoms
• After I've consumed his freebie finisher snacks, and he's had his post-race beer (again, Wisconsin - every occasion ends with a beer), we head to the car. He regales the tales of his adventure, providing a play-by-play of every pace change and hill. We critique the group who hosted the event and compare notes about how well they did (or didn't do) with setup, course markers, etc. 
• Once home, the commentary continues, as my dearest man obsesses over the posted times of others in his age group. I make the occasional comment and offer suggestions. He showers and (after much training) hangs up his sweaty clothes. 
• Have you ever seen a runner's feet? Don't. If you have to, just be ready to play doctor and patch up some bloody toes.** Forcing a man to take care of his body is like trying to force broccoli on a toddler - they'll thank you later. 

And then he's back to normal. I force him to hydrate, and he consumes an entire day's worth of calories in one sitting. Life returns to its usual pace, and I get a full 24-hours without hearing the comment "I'm going to pop out for a quick run..."

And then it starts all over again. 

No, running is not something I'm good at. Per my doctor, "Some people just aren't meant to be runners, sweetie." And no, it's not even something I really comprehend as a choice of hobby. BUT, once a year, instead of taking on my usual role as a spectathlete, we run a 5k together. We​ don't run side-by-side like some couples, because in this arena, we're not equals. He excels, and I'm so proud of him. When we're in the same race, he high-fives me while coming back around (when I have yet to even hit the turn around point). And when I huff my way, red-faced across that finish line, he's right there, cheering me on. Because at some point in the past year, running went from being a solo activity, to being a team sport. And since then, we've been running down that dream... together. 

Teamwork makes the dream work...

* In case you're curious as to why, of the three I missed: one I was in Vegas for a bachelorette, another I was in NYC for work, and the last one I had a going away happy hour for a coworker who was departing to go write her novel (worth celebrating!). So. Valid ish reasons, in my opinion.
** Helpful hint for preventative foot help: medical paper tape is good, Body Glide is better.

The '017 Files: May

You know what they say, April showers bring May flowe--- HOLY COW I am SO ready for summertime! Here is hoping that this chilly rain (which has been nice enough to bring beautiful flowers, no doubt) subsides soon and morphs into those summer nights soon. I could stand to start summering in May.

Here's a quick look back on how it went for the April goal list before I jump into May...
Habit Forming

• Exercise tracking / ramping up the running: Was super dedicated in week one and in the last few days of the month, but my random tooth infection and the surrounding madness really threw me off on caring about exercise at all, unfortunately.  is coming back. Must ramp up walking/jogging/running with the 5k coming in May.
• Seven flights a day: Almost hit the mark on this one, but again, wasn't very active for the weeks surrounding my head exploding tooth pain. 
• Nail polish: Crushed it. My nails were poppin' all month long! #BossLady

"Big Goals"

• Hit the mark:
• The Seder tablescape (not to toot my own horn) was a thing of legend (toot toot), as was the evening itself (#MosesLovesMezcal).
• Put up ONE (of promised two) new FB album - captions take too long.
• Book = finished. Next book in the series = half done.
• Started cleaning up typewriters and "know a guy" to help with the ribbons and repair, so that's a major victory in the works!
• Saw so many old friends, and it made my heart smile. Thanks for still being their, peeps, even after all these years of chaos!
• Swing and a miss:
• Passports, WHY do I fail at getting you!?
• Still massively adding to the basket bound for the Women's Shelter.
• Rolly cart was not yet spraypainted: delay of game due to rain.
• Ten blog posts = major fail. Sure, I did finish three. And have about a dozen half done. But sorry don't feed the bulldog, sweetie! All the work stress and teeth time, plus a ramp up in socialization, and I just could not get into the zone for writing. 

Overall, April was wonderfully busy. Which is something I desperately missed but also wore me the hell out. This month was also my BLOGIVERSARY! This lil guy is two years old. So let's hope it behaves itself going into the terrible twos!

Make a wish!

Next up on the goal list... Mayday mayday mayday!!
Habit Forming

• Exercise log: This is going to be essential for both our 5k this month and to get this walrus to squeeze into the itsy bitsy bikini for Vegas the first week of June! 
• More music in the workplace: I've had my nose so close to the grindstone the past few months (while working to get my... promotion! Which finally becomes official this month - Yay!) that I'm starting to burn out a bit. Need to rejigger to have fewer meetings and work time where I can put on some jams and go kick butt.
• Walking and watering: Vegas prep! I don't plan on going into the desert to die. 
• Chill the fuck out: But seriously. Must keep calm and carry on.
• Quit eating like a college kid: Takeout and Easy Mac aren't acceptable on this large of a scale anymore. Need to dial that shit back. 
• Ten minute daily clean: little cleans, to make big cleans swifter. 

"Big Goals"

• Derby Prep: Figure out if I want to make another new hat and where I want to go drink my juleps to celebrate my favorite sporting event of the year.
• Closet: Paint, reorg and assess my closet and dressers. Need to do a full inventory on clothes so I'm ready for summer trips, weddings, life, etc. 
• Carry on: Put up another FB photo album. Finish my book. Get up some blog posts. 
• Old school: Send off at least three letters to friends. 
• Give the gift: I need to make sure I don't totally fail on getting gifts for Mother's Day and for my third anniversary with the beau. Let's be real, I've already got stellar cards picked out, but just need to make sure my gifts don't suck.

With work and life so busy lately, I've been trying extra hard to keep down that bubbling anxiety. The distractions have been plentiful, and the beau and family so very supportive, but these rainy days and dental woes have made the past month a bit funked up. Excited to give my endorphins a wake up call and hit the ground running for this last month of spring.

Yo, Fro

My indecision and love for color comes to a head whenever I go for froyo.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't have a system. Everyone does. It's just that I lose my mind regardless and wind up with ten pounds of frozen rainbow goodness regardless* of said game plan.

When you go into a froyo place, sure there are other options, but they don't matter. The only one that matters is the "pump fro, top with yo, and pay by weight" method. I'm not going to buy a shake or a smoothie. I'm not a monster. (Although, there is something to be said for the take-home pints. But. Slippery slope, that one.)

Upon entry, the smart method would be to read the board/sign listing the flavors and then hone in on which ones you wish to have, going only to those specific pumps. What most end up doing instead is leisurely strolling along the nozzles. Stopping, reading, moving back, then forward, then sporadically about. Getting in LITERALLY everyone's way as they peruse the selection.** Yes, we've all been guilty of this one. My desire for efficiency puts me in a third bucket. I grab my container (the biggest one, every time, because I don't want my toppings to cascade all over the floor - they're nestled in when in that big basin) and go straight for the first pump. I then proceed to walk straight down the line, adding as I go.

About ten percent of the time this backfires, and I end up pumping a tart / sorbet flavor that I could've gotten down the line in a sweeter froyo. More often then not, this is the culprit of my excess. "Oh, a chocolate, yes I want a chocolate!" Two pumped later, "Oh, DUTCH chocolate you say? Well, don't mind if I do!" The result is either rather duplicate or a fantastic Frankensteinian rainbow. If not all the flavors mesh, I just mix them together like a child and call it a day. All flavors as one flavor!

Then of course comes the goods. The toppings. The reason most people pay eight bucks for a tiny dish and wonder why it's so expensive. Because, dear friends, those cherries and brownie chunks, they're frickin' heavy. (Science, man.)

Bring it on, froyo pump hogging youths! Mama's got a pink spoon and she means business!

I'll admit a controversial opinion here: I could do without the toppings. I'm perfectly content with plain old frozen delight, without all the extras. THAT being said. I do dapple. I go for a precise amount to get a little hint of toppings without adding too much to deter from the main event / too much weight to the price. Typically, that is the following: four to five chocolate chips, two boba balls (WHAT are those things?!), a single mini reeses cup, and then a SHIT TON of sprinkles. Unless, you know, it's one of those days where they have Nutella out. Then it's all over.

Any season, froyo is an easy go-to when I don't have the willpower to have ice cream in my home and want a treat. I can even pretend to be fairly "healthy" by just getting the fat-free flavors. And then I can shoot that healthy figment of my imagination straight in the face with chocolate chips and a bucket of Nutella. And, as I elbow my way past the youths, colorful dish of victory in hand, I know there's no point in pretending that the deliciousness in hand is good for me from a nutrition standpoint. BUT, for my soul? Yeah, it sure as hell is good for that.




* Today, Google taught me that "irregardless" is largely considered to be NOT a word. So. There's another instance of a word/phrase I've used my whole life without regard (AKA irregardless) to proper usage.
** This is almost as bad as the swarm of teenagers who bog down the pumps as they "sample" every single frickin' flavor. You know, the ones who then scurry off, laughing about how they gamed the system, while everyone else openly judges and hates them. *shakes fist at the youths*

The Walrus Goes to Disney

A new year meant a new attempt at not being the Walrus. Because I'm no Lennon (Or wait, was Paul the walrus? Shit.) AND mama's got a vacation coming up!

As y'all know, the "let's get healthy and not be a walrus" struggle has been a constant one for me over the years. My walrusdom is of course widely exaggerated, and I'm just in it for the melodrama, which is like a black hole sucking in everyone around me. The beau has to dodge the landmines I lay for him with questions like, "Does this shirt fit right?" and "Do I look good, like, other people would say I look good, or good, like, you say I look good because you love me?" The lady who runs the fitting room at H&M has seen every level of emotion. And the women's shelter and Goodwill have received buckets of clothes that I decided no longer fit (including all those crop shirts from my "Cameron Diaz" phase... sigh).

Meanwhile, I've tried a bunch of approaches to 'reset' or lose some poundage. Cutting sugars was a good one, but I don't have the willpower to do that all the time. (Definitely more conscious about it, since sugar is like killing us all, but I need my candy to live.) And since the gym wasn't working for me, I turned our second bedroom more or less into my home gym (sorry, guests! I light candles!) and started using the free work at gym.

Which brings me to the new year, where I decided to combo all my best approaches to trim some fat off before our fabulous Florida vacation (in which I will once again pretend to be a #BossWitch and gallivant about Harry Potter world). My approach for kicking the weight? Right here, wrapped in a bow for y'all!

Images shown to scale.
(Does everyone weigh themselves naked? I'll take any help I can get!)

For both January and February:

• Weighed myself every morning and wrote it down. Accountability and awareness.
• Did 5 squats every time I went to go to the bathroom. I know, it's weird, but it's all about habit forming!
• Tracked exercise. Had a spreadsheet with a list of moves and had a total goal to hit every two weeks. I need things in bite sized pieces or I don't stay committed #FactsOfLife The moves I were doing were for toning, with a max of 8 pound hand weights (if anyone wants a list, I'd be happy to send it!), so I wasn't beefing up but was tightening the flab. (Although, the guns on my arms may require a permit at this point - ow ow!) And honestly, the amount of effort averaged less than 15 minutes a day probably (not counting walking), so it was super easy to squeeze in.
• Walked it the hell out! I scheduled a 15 minute break every day during work to go hit the treadmill (because my desk is killing me) and took to the pavement whenever possible. Luckily had a few nice days in there to go walk by the lake, but when it was nasty, I took to mall walking (with the old retired people) early morning on weekends. It was fabulous. (I'm sure I'll write up a post about that someday.) 

Month of January:

• Was conscious about food choices, but not calorie counting or tracking. The beau was counting, so that helped slow my going out to eat, which was huge. 
• Besides the stuff I did for both months, in January I mainly just tracked exercise and ramped up activity level. Toning. Woke up those muscles so they could help me burn more in February.

Month of February (aka the last couple days of January - making around 25 days total):

• Because it's the shortest month... calorie counting! Yes, I ruthlessly tracked every little bit. This time I did not set a specific goal to fall under, but I did have one in mind (after using one of those little online calculators that says how many calories you should eat a day based on your age, gender, height, activity level, etc.) and shot for an average. This means I was NOT by any means fully depriving myself. I just had to look at a cookie and decide if it was worth it or not... and what I'd have to give up in its place.... Okay, so yeah, it was a bit of a struggle. Some days were better than others, for sure!
• Also tracked grams of sugar. Previously, when tracking sugars, I tried to keep in the recommended range of 25 to 50 grams per day. This time I was tracking more for awareness to make sure I wasn't just aiming for low calorie items that were killing me in other ways. And this helped shame me out of eating ALL the Valentine's Day candy - which, was... good. 
• Basically drowned myself drinking water. I was so hydrated this month that my shoes practically made squishy sounds when I walked. My brain and body loved it and it helped curb appetite too because I was always so full of water. ALSO, 5 squats every time I went to the bathroom? Well, when you drink buckets of water each day, the squat count goes way up! 

Here's a recap of where I averaged out and ended up:

• Weight lost: 9.2 pounds
• Average calories per day in Feb: 1438 calories
• Around 1400 per day would've been the range to lose 1 pound/week. 
• Note: my highest day was like 2300 calories - yay ladies night!
• Average grams of sugar per day in Feb: 60 grams 
• Max day was around 100 grams, so did pretty damn good on this one. 
• Note: one can of Mountain Dew, the sweet nectar of the gods, is 46 g. 
• Average miles walked per day in Jan and Feb: 1.6 miles
• My max day was over four miles - thanks mall walkin'! 

So just by keeping track and holding myself accountable a bit more, adding in walking and water, and doing a baby amount of exercise, I peeled off almost ten pounds with SUPER minimal effort. There's no point in denying that my willpower is next to none, so if I can pull that off, anyone can. And while there's always more to do (GAH why is body image a moving target?!), right now I feel pretty confident that I'll look wicked awesome in my wizard-kini on the beach. These Michelle Obama arms are ready to shove aside any children that get in my way as I go live the magic and enjoy my Disney / Universal adventure!

Stand tall, friends! Spring is coming!

The '017 Files: Feb

In this month's edition of "get-yo-shit-together-girl": 2017 is one month gone and a Disney vacation looms!

Let's start with a recap on January. This was the month of the bear. One minute, I was in deep winter hibernation mode, hiding from the world in my cave, in a social slumber. The next, a mama bear, protecting the rights and fighting for her cubs at the Women's March. Then it was onto being a loveable teddy bear, squeezed in the arms of someone who loves me so much they might pop my head off (that's an "alternative fact," I was actually a monster during that time, but loved nonetheless). And above all, a roly-poly Pooh Bear. Wintertime is awful, I miss being too-busy and I hate the dreary weather (there hasn't even been snow to be pretty - if I'm going to be cold, it can at least look pretty out).

So, as for the January gameplan - things went pretty alright. Here's a summary on how my list from last month actually worked out in real life:

Habit Forming:

• Aced it on the daily flossing, tea for breakfast (in place of cocoa), and five squats before I pee (which was confusing for several people, I'm sure). 
• Packing my lunch the night before? Eh, that was just okay. Hit or miss. Mostly my usual morning scramble to toss something in my work bag, only to find out later that the lid was loose and there is stirfry in my wallet. Room for improvement, we'll say.

Tracking:

• Exercise tracker - solid and far exceeded all my goals. Which means I was probably going easy on myself and just set my goals too low. Thanks, past self, for the ego boost due to low estimation! Will estimate properly going into February.
• Daily "must do" calendar - pretty much crushed it. I cheated a few times and shuffled things around, added some things just so I'd have more to check off, etc. but overall pretty well done.
• Daily weight tracking - this girl has some work to do. Days were tracked but the numbers were not always so nice.
• Journaling - absolute fail. Nada. Didn't do zilch. Two days in I realized this one was a wash. Maybe some other time.

Be more invested: this one will be an ongoing bit. I'd consider this one a "roll over" item for the next eleven months...

She's making a list, and checking it twice... 

Which brings us into February! It's the shortest month, so it needs to pack a punch. And to be honest, I started out my items for the month on Monday, so, sorry January I stole some of you. MOSTLY because I need to ramp it up before our trip to Orlando, which kicks off on the 25th. Here is what's on the to-do this time around, let's see if we can't stick to it!

Habit forming

• WATER - Need to focus on hydrating like a mother this month. A) Water is good for weight loss because it flushes the system and makes you feel fuller longer, or something something science and B) last time I went to a theme park I had a nasty encounter with wicked bad dehydration and I basically want to preemptive strike that from ever happening again. Aiming for 5 big glasses a day at work and 3 at home, which means I'll be peeing every five minutes... which means lots of squats. So. Double win! 
• 15 minute walk break at work every day. Currently I do this some days, but all the coworkers who I've bullied into going on walks have been moving on to new jobs. Soon enough I'll be walking alone, but I still need to keep at it. It's a good mental health break and will hopefully prevent me from eventually dying at my desk.
• Posture posture posture. Goodness do I need to work on this. Since my desk is already killing me (see above), the least I can do is not die a hunchback.
• Less complaining. Holy cow, I've been cranky lately. Call in the mid-winter jicker if you will, but damn, need to cool it and quit being such a Debby-D. Working on shutting down some of my complaining. Only room to discuss improvement ideas for shitty situation, must block out the pure ranting and raving.
• Smile every time I look in a mirror. I mean, I usually do this to check if there's anything in my teeth anyway, but I'm going to make an extra effort to give myself a big old grin as an affirmation: look at that sexy beast beaming back at you, because you're frickin' crushing it today.
• Dress the part (#bosslady) and not be lazy about my attire at work. It's easy when there's no real dress code. Come on closet full of clothes, don't let me down! (note: shall rock the pantsuit in similar fashion as Paul does in that video #britswag) 

Tracking

• Having shorter daily "must do" list, but keeping up on that housework 
• Still tracking weight and exercise daily - ramping up the exercise goals so I try a bit harder this go of it
• Adding on tracking for calories and sugar grams to get that beach bod (I know it's in there somewhere!) ready for, well... the beach. 

See you again in March, old friend...

"Big Goals" 

• Do NOT pack like an asshat for Florida. I always overpack, but not this time!
• Do my taxes... without my mom. Because I should pretend to be an adult and do them myself. (If I end up in jail for doing something wrong, I'll look back on this with regret, I promise.)
• FINALLY finish up getting our passports renewed. I've been too vain to go in for the photo. The previous one was glasses and braces though, so really, it's all up hill from there and I shouldn't worry so much. 

Since the first couple months are really the jumping off point for the rest of the year, I'm glad that my goal making and taking has gone well. The attitude will adjust as the sun begins to shine (and as executive orders stop being written), and in the meantime I'll just try to keep the bear in check. Let's hope February is more like the month of the mermaid... 

We All Scream for Ice Cream

It’s a known fact that if I eat chocolate, of any variety, I will end up with chocolate on some odd spot on my body. All over my face, on my elbow, on my foot: it’s bound to end up somewhere. This is my curse. And this contributes directly to my adventure of the night. My fate was already sealed.

In case you’ve forgotten, physical exertion (other than actual manual labor, which I relish) and I don’t necessarily get along. But, plagued with my walrus complex, I’ve been continuing to attempt to sneak in exercise. Tonight’s plan: walk to get froyo at the local home of my delicious obsession. It’s only a mile walk to get there, so seemed plenty reasonable. Plus, there would be froyo for dinner. Worth it.

Donned the workout garb (so the world would take my efforts seriously as I marched down the sidewalk) and popped in the ear buds. Hit the streets, my little drawstring backpack jingling as my keys collided with my wallet. A dozen strides into my jolly stroll to victory and I suddenly felt the humidity, noticed the ominous dark clouds, saw the wind jostle the trees around me… a storm was coming. I knew I should just turn back, but got hit with a freakish determination instead. There was no way I was going home empty-handed.

Halfway to my destination, I knew I wasn’t going to be the storm and instead opted to duck into a grocery store. It may not be as magical as picking between twenty flavors and adding on any topping imaginable, but I figured a half gallon of ice cream might do the trick. Might make me feel better about the lack of froyo, freeze my sorrows, etc. Not one to waste a trip to the grocery store, I also grabbed a grapefruit, two yogurts, a pack of gum and some waffles. Seriously, it didn’t make sense to me either, but I’m compulsive so it happened. And it all got rapidly stuffed into my tiny drawstring backpack at the checkout, in my frantic race against time.

Back outside, the sky was eerily dark, with rays of sun attempting to break the clouds on the horizon. The wind was gale force. And I was screwed.

I slung the bag over my shoulders and took off at a fast pace, hoping for the best. At the intersection, I stood impatiently, getting knocked about by the wind, sweating buckets in the humidity. And then, something worse… I had been so distracted in getting home that I didn’t realize. Despite the heat, my back was FREEZING. The ice cream was pressed squarely into my back, and by the sound of it, was melting rapidly. The signal changed.

The situation was now desperate. I broke into a jog, but the drawstring bag jumped around too much. I pulled the strings close to me so it wouldn’t bounce, but that just pulled the ice cream closer into my body heat. Attempting to arch my back so it wouldn’t melt the ice cream, I went into a half jog, half gallop. Realizing that I probably resembled a drunken Quasimodo staggering his way home, I decided to hell with it and just started running.

And that’s when the grapefruit exploded.

It had decided to give up on life, just like me. So I let out my now standard “why me?!” exasperated howl (somewhere between a sigh, a King Kong holler and a yodel)  and continued my sprint home as the grapefruit juice and ice cream soup pooled up on my back and dripped its way down my side. There was no way in hell I wasn’t going to make it home before it started raining, after all that.

Sweaty and beaten, my drawstring backpack leaking on my leg, in a total huff, I arrived back to my apartment. My neighbors were unpacking their kids from their after-school activities. The small ginger girl child who always wears a rainbow tutu glared at me, a bottle of water in her hand. I judged her drinking bottled water almost as much as she judged my disheveled appearance. Politeness was exchanged with the parents. And I ducked past my birds and into my home, putting an end to the madness.

I’d also like to point out that at the time of posting this, it still has not rained. And the ice cream soup, it was delicious. Sigh.

You can't see from this angle where the chocolate ended up,
but I assure you, the curse remains stubbornly intact.