Resolutions 2009

In the last five or ten years, I've been pretty big on New Year's resolutions. I normally come up with 3-5 solid ones. Sometimes they pertain to my diet, sometimes running, and sometimes they just involve one single action that I've put off for a long time.

This year has been a toughie. I've asked people for opinions about resolutions and nothing's ringing my bell. Oh, and by the way, I'm not a stickler for resolutions starting at the stroke of midnight January 1st. I figure even if you come up with one within the first few days after that it's still in the spirit of the point of making a resolution, and a good start to the year in general.

Most of my friends' suggestions involved running: more mileage, setting personal records, etc. But those seem redundant now. I guess the idea behind making a resolution is really to change things for the better, and I made many of those types of resolutions in the past... having been pretty successful, it doesn't make sense to say "more PRs" when I'm always striving for more PRs. I guess a similar comparison would be someone resolving to lose 40 lbs, succeeding, and then the next year resolving to keep the weight off. It's sort of taken for granted.

Anyway, I did resolve to go to the gym at least twice a week. I bought a membership at NYSC at the end of September, and in the following 3 months I only went about 6-8 times, I think. So that was one. Any other ones I tried to make, seemed pretty weak.

Then Friday happened.

I can't really say what happened, but suffice to say I made a promise to someone to do something very important and I didn't follow through. I can't really say it because it's just too embarrassing, and if I did, none of you would ever trust me with anything ever again. I wish I could characterize it as just a slip up or a minor mistake, but it was a doozy, and I'm still trying to think of ways that I might make it up to the friend(s) that I let down so terribly.

The thing is, though, I've been beating myself up over this since Friday. It really ruined my weekend. I know that the punishment should probably fit the crime, but maybe I'm taking it a bit too far.

Most people who know me well say I'm too hard on myself. This seems to apply a great many things including dating, personal abilities and talents, and in this case, mistakes I've made. Some of my closest friends through the years, MM, NF, AR, and DM, have told me that a lot. This includes running, too. I was so disappointed with my Philadelphia Marathon time at the end of November, and it took a friend of mine to open my eyes by saying, "A bad day for you is still a Boston qualifier." I realized that I was going overboard on my high expectations for myself.

So my resolution this year is going to be to take it a little easier on myself. This sort of goes against my whole "quantifiable" rule, but too bad. I just need to relax a little, and maybe the quantifiable rule needs to go in this case. If nothing else, this is at least a starting point for me, and maybe I'll figure out how to quantify it as I go on.

Don't get me wrong - I'm still going to try to make up for my wrong-doing. These are good friends and I'd hate to lose them over doing one stupid thing, so I need to work at reinvesting in that relationship to regain their trust. However, there's definitely no reason to beat myself up over it. What's done is done and it's better to move ahead with the experience and hopefully never do it again.

And for my own personal sanity, I'll try to take it easy on the running expectations. And then maybe I'll try to get a date... someday.

But first, it's off to the gym...

Scatterbrained

This is a record low for me: my fifth post in a month. I do realise that I really need to blog though, and this is a break for me - a well-deserved break.

To think things were going to slow down and become more manageable after my posts of two weeks ago was so far removed from reality that it's not even funny. All I've been doing, it feels like, is playing catch up with everything. And from most people, it seems the common thread weaving through everybody's life is "being overwhelmed" by just about everything: work, relationships, responsibilities, etcetera. Isn't January supposed to be a slow month?

Granted, I have some friends who are in much more stressful situations than I. One of them is across the country attending to a very sick family member, and one is recovering from a tough c-section delivery following a stressful pregnancy. One even got mugged recently. Me, I just feel like the trivial aspects of everything are coming at me right and left: work, the new responsibilities of the Flyers' executive board, and even social commitments. In short, I feel spread so thin that I've become transparent.

Someone at the awards gala - a great Flyer and a well-meaning friend - asked me why I didn't have a girlfriend. This is a step beyond his usual question, which is why I'm not married. He and his wife debated, and she chalked it up to my being too picky. That may or may not be true, but the real question I find myself asking is: when would I date? I hardly have time to do my laundry. Cripes, I didn't even get my grocery shopping done this weekend...

It seems like even though I've been actively and consciously participating in all of this stuff, like going to the awards party, attending two friends' birthdays last weekend, meeting deadlines at the office, recording minutes at the executive meeting, and trying to compile a running club newsletter, there's a big part of me that feels separate from it all. I feels as if I've been somehow removed from the conscious world and I'm viewing it from a few feet removed from it. No, maybe more like a few minutes remove from it, like everything is happening a while before I'm aware it is, if that makes any sense at all.

The blog is a good outlet for this, I find. It somehow gives me a sense of control and it, in some way, orders my world a bit. And without it, it feels like nobody's listening. With it, I feel like I'm somehow a bit more present in the world. And what are we if we aren't somehow relating to each other, in a present, conscious way?

This might be all hullabaloo. Some people will blow me off, and some will tell me that I just need to relax. Whatever. Some will argue that I just can't handle the speed of NYC. I never bought that argument. I'd counter that it isn't the speed of NYC that's the issue here. It's the speed of life.

The past week; a new life enters the world.

I most often fly to and from Winnipeg via Chicago, but this time I connected out of Minneapolis. Coming home last week, my flight was late on the first leg of my trip back, so I had a mere 15 minutes to run through the airport to catch my plane. Upon arriving at La Guardia, I arranged to have my luggage, which didn’t make the connection, delivered to my office the next day. They told me it would be delivered 6 or 8 PM at the latest. I thought this wouldn’t be so bad – I’d just stay a bit later at the office.

The NYC delivery service utilized by the airline is called Perfect Delivery and I cannot put into words just how unperfect they were. I won’t go into the long-winded, frustrating details, but after 5 phone calls over the course of the day to find out the status of my luggage, it finally became apparent to me that they weren’t being honest with me, were not checking my reference number when I gave it to them, and had absolutely no aptitude for customer care. I waited all day and half the night for my bag, which was finally delivered to my apartment at 3 AM the following morning. Yep, 3 AM. Now that’s just crappy. How do these places stay in business?!

Anyway, I had a harried few days back at work last week, catching up on things before what I expected would be generally a relaxing weekend, as I had made very few plans. It would be a welcome change from the craziness of the holidays and the recent trip to the Great White North.

I spent Friday working on the next running club newsletter and getting requests and reminders out for article submission. Friday night, I kicked back at home and got a good night’s sleep. At this point I had only gone running once since New Year’s, and not at all while I was in Canada, and was planning to meet friends for a long run Saturday AM, so I figured I needed the sleep.

I went up to Rockefeller State Park (photo) again with two other Flyers, and we did about 18 miles of hills and trails. I was trying out the new Nike+ iPod gizmo that I got for Christmas, and another friend was trying out her Garmin 205 GPS unit for the first time. We’re still not sure which was more accurate, as the Garmin measured 17.75 miles and the Nike+ measured 18.25. I called it 18 and could live with that.

On the drive back to Manhattan, no sooner had I answered the question of What-are-you-up-to-this-weekend? with “Not much”, when I received a text message.

My good friend, Beth, who was 8+ months pregnant, had been in the hospital for the past four days due to a dangerously high spike in her blood pressure and she was being released Saturday to go home. She texted friends to ask if they could baby-sit her for the next couple of days while her guy went to Jersey for a family funeral. She didn't expect that anything would happen, and she promised that she'd be "well-behaved". This sounded easy enough, so I took first shift, and arrived at about 4 PM to her Bronx apartment with some work in hand to kill time. The plan was simple – I’d stay over, and if she needed anything I could take care of it for her while she rested, and leave at 10:00 the next morning when the next friend arrived.

I did some work and watched a Scrubs marathon on TV, followed by the movie Miss Congeniality. Normally I hate this kind of movie, but it was Sandra Bullock, the setting was a beauty pageant, and Beth has a 40 inch HDTV, so can you really blame me for watching? In hindsight, I’m convinced I’d have enjoyed it more if the sound was off, though. Beth snoozed on the couch much of the time, and I helped her check her blood pressure later in the evening. I was ready to call it a night when she took another reading at 11 PM. Little did I know the night had just begun.

Her BP was spiking and she double-checked to be sure. She called the hospital and they told her to come in.

The next thing I know, we’re speeding down the Grand Central Parkway to Long Island Memorial Jewish Something Or Another Hospital in her VW. I dropped her off and headed back to Manhattan to pick up our friend, Katie. We arrived back at the hospital shortly after 12:30 AM. We were allowed in under Katie's (fake) title of Birthing Mother or some such nonsense, and found Beth in an isolated little room hooked up to a big machine taking readings and making all sorts of mostly annoying sounds, as well as emitting the unmistakable sound of a baby's heartbeat. And then we did a whole lot of waiting.

The nurses on duty would step in sporadically, take some readings, and say that they were still waiting for directions from the doctor. Most of the time we just sat there chatting about stuff. I filled them in on my hit-and-mostly-miss dating life, and Katie covered the topic of her new job. Beth tried time to time to get her guy on the phone with occasional success, which mostly resulted in her saying "No, we don't know what they're going to do yet. I'll call you when we know something." She appeared calm and sociable the whole time, but I can only guess that she was scared as hell. After all, what were we there for, but to keep her company and distracted from the issue at hand.

The hours ticked by. Finally a nurse came in and did an ultrasound. I looked at the baby on the screen and turned to Beth: "Okay, now I believe you. You're pregnant." The nurse put on some latex gloves and Beth asked me to step outside. I sat and played solitaire on my phone for a while. Eventually Katie stepped out and let me know I could come back in.

The plan was to attempt to induce labour, so we moved with Beth to a real hospital room, and stuck around, still chatting, while yet another nurse settled her in to get some sleep. At one point Beth looked at me and said "You look totally wiped." I told her that I had just run 18 miles that day (which was now yesterday) and hadn't got my usual nap in before coming to her place. This engaged the nurse in the discussion, who, as it turns out, had run half marathons, and we also found out that she was married to a football player in the CFL. Katie, Beth and I, by the way, are all Canadian.

Katie and I left shortly after 4 AM, and I got home by 4:30 (funny how light traffic is at that hour in NYC). Katie took the car.

I slept badly Sunday morning, woke up at 10 AM, had something to eat, and went back to sleep until 1 PM. I felt horrible and groggy. So much for a nice relaxing weekend.

I received a text message at about four from Katie, saying that Beth had delivered a baby girl after 2 PM. She was delivered by c-section. I was a little disappointed that she wasn't named after me (I drove her all the way to Long Island, after all!) but they came up with a pretty good name in the end.

Both mother and daughter are doing well.

***

Sunday night closed the weekend out with a meeting of the new Flyers' executive board at one of my fellow exec's apartment who also provided an excellent dinner. I didn't know some of the other exec members that well, but after our meeting, I'm very optimistic about this year's leadership of the running club. 2007 is looking great!

Winnipeg Wedding

I was in Winnipeg Jan 4th through the 8th. It was a pretty good time, but rushed and frantic. Part of this was due to having my flight bumped from 7 PM on Wed. to 6 AM on Thursday. Trust Travelocity to change a flight schedule without sending out an e-mail notification. Luckily I called to double check my departure status before heading to the airport that evening.

I went to Canada for a wedding, and skipped Christmas because of that. I explained to my family that Christmas comes every year and weddings, at least in theory, happen once in a lifetime. That is, unless you're Liz Taylor and hold them regularly. The biggest part of the hectic-ness of the trip was trying to cram in the family and friend visits around the wedding, and all within four and a half days. I managed it, but not without frustration.

The wedding was pretty good, but not without it's flaws. The ceremony was held in the main hall at the swanky downtown Winnipeg Art Gallery (pictured). It was a great venue for the event, after which we moved up to the penthouse level for the reception. The atmosphere over dinner was relaxed, the food was delicious, and I caught up with an old friend as well as met some other nice, new people. We then moved to another room for the more active festivities.

I would have thought the gallery had hosted lots of weddings before, and I’m sure this was the case, but they seemed fairly unseasoned at it. Specifically, when the DJ started playing Billy Holiday's "Strange Fruit" during the reception, we knew something was dreadfully wrong. The groom remedied that quickly, though, and people were shakin' it on the dance floor in no time.

I also had to care for a friend of mine who went a little over the top with the alcohol consumption. In a follow up e-mail to me the next day, she referred to herself as a “basket case”. I wouldn’t quite go that far, but to say that she was inebriated would be an understatement (and who could blame her – it was a wedding!). I saw her off safely in a cab before partying the rest of the night away without incident with the bride, groom, and their many friends and family. I made it home in the late hours of morning, and slept until early afternoon.

Overall, I was happy to see my good friend tied the knot with this guy. She and I have been friends for about 14 years now, and although I’ve never had a chance to get to know him so well (they started seeing each other just before I left Canada), I can tell they’re great for each other.

The rest of my trip I spent meeting up with many friends I had during university and high school, as well as relatives. Some of the people I saw I hadn't caught up with in years.

I had brunch with my family on the Saturday. Seeing the family always reminds me how much I regret not being able visit my nephews more than once a year… a definite downside to living so far away. The other downside was something new this trip, and that was seeing how much my mother’s health has deteriorated substantially over the past year. She was almost a different person, and that left me feeling helpless and mildly depressed, like there was something I should be doing to make her better, but I didn’t know what. It’s tough to watch someone’s health decline and realize that it’s out of your hands.

On the issue of health, I noticed a few friends and relatives have also put on a couple of pounds, which I guess is easy to do if you're not actively running marathons or anything. One friend has kept in shape by doing Jujutsu, although I think this also serves as an effective dual purpose of keeping her two kids in line. Two of my friends - a couple that I didn't get to see last year - had dropped a LOT of weight, and were looking healthier and happier than I had seen them in a long time. How? "A healthy diet and exercise", they said. I was very happy for their new, healthy lifestyle, which included eliminating a surplus of junk food and joining a soccer league. I’m sure we all know and can appreciate how important and difficult it is to keep that extra weight off when you’re on that slide towards the big four-oh.

I also did lunch with my best friend while I was there. He and I have been friends since grade seven. It always amazes me how, even after years living apart, and very different lifestyles, we always come back to each other with perspectives on the world that are interesting, enlightening, and respectful of each other’s differences.

Finally, I did breakfast with my parents on the Monday morning, and they drove me to the airport that afternoon. It was a good, albeit exhausting trip.