Pean’s Adventures in the Big City

If I could have written and directed a music video myself, this is EXACTLY what it would be like:

Chris Dane Owens: \”Shine On Me\”

Be sure to watch it all the way through, because just when you think it can’t get any better—IT DOES.  If you haven’t changed your life, this video will….trust me.

On another note: I have an important announcement regarding marathon running: Boston will be my last marathon until further notice.  I will return to race (and he means race) the NYC marathon in 2010 after I “sharpen my skill set.”  I will say no more on this issue, b/c BT told me that reading a post about running is about as entertaining as the old WD—in other words, she’d rather wear a terrycloth jumpsuit to a Van Halen concert (what?).

peace,

pean

This will be one of my few “running” related entries, but I wanted to bring this issue back from the dead for a petite minute.  The mother of a good friend of mine (the lovely miss J) said this to me right before the marathon, and at the time I didn’t believe her.  I thought, “Nooo that’s not true”, as I threw my head back laughing.  Yes, runners will exert themselves to the point of exhaustion, and yes ”apparently we just run, without stopping for an extended period of time”, but how could they all  be les miserable??  I found this theory intriguing, and I was determined to prove her wrong.  Last night, I finally remembered to do so.  Here’s the deal: usually when I run, I like to draft off of people in front of me and try to pass them—I am fairly successful at it, with the exception of the usual suspects who always pass me, then call me later to tell me about it—the point is, I like to keep distracted.  I didn’t run far, but 2 miles into my run the idea popped into my head to count how many frowns/grimaces I saw on runners opposing the direction I was running in.  I used a scale of 1-5 though, since there are varying degrees of “unhappiness”, so here was the breakdown:

1-Content (slight smile, focused)

2-relaxed, but serious brow

3-Clenching teeth, eyebrows fixed to misery mode

4-Clenched teeth, misery mode, crazy eyes (you know, CRAZY)

5-Verge of tears, heavy panting—like someone fired a round of bullets into their body

***Note:I should add that if there was visible sweat/blood and/or any clue indicating an injury I immediately rounded them one level higher—no one is happy running injured, I don’t care who they are.  I also did not grade people on the cat hill or harlem hill at this time, b/c no one’s dressed in their “sunday best” there either.

I counted more individuals who were a level 4 than anything else.  Everyone looked miserable!  Was it the weather?  Were they going through emotional turmoil?  Do they not do their lifting and conditioning to supplement their training? How far had they run?  How far would they run?  Were they running hard?  What do I look like when I’m running hard? It was at this point that I realized J’s mom was right!  No one looks happy when they’re running, and the truth is they’re probably in pain!  In recent weeks, I have learned that to run well, I have to feel like I’m knocking on death’s door during the workout, and then my body returns to its regularly scheduled programming afterward.  I am certain this is what all those other runners are experiencing…that as soon as the hard running starts, you want it to end.  I am trying to remain upbeat and motivated during the winter months, but some nights it just sucks out there!! Especially when the wind chill factors in, because by the time I am actually warm enough to run (like 6 miles in, mind you), the damn workout is nearly over!!  I refuse to wear spandex as well, and I’m sure that’s part of my problem; however, I am stubborn and therefore little can be done to rectify that “situation.”  I will simply chalk up my running 45 miles a week half-naked to good preparation for boston training.  A quick note: the training plan that has been so graciously put together for me is f’ing insane, and no one will see me for approximately 3 months.  If you want to see me, send up a smoke signal and wait 3-5 days for a response, or just send liquor, b/c right after that I start applying to medical school—the fun never ends!!!!!!  Anyway….the point of my rambling is that J’s mom was right about everything, except one thing: being constipated. 

Now, anyone who runs knows it’s quite the contrary, and I assure you, there are no grimaces where that is concerned.  It’s a favorite past time of this community, and we go whenever nature calls—most likely in a secluded area like the one I’ve depicted below from the park.  I don’t know about you people, but I’m always stoked (so is KJB, my fearless leader in the dept.) and thinking, “Alright, let’s go hit some trees.”  Okay, I’m DONE! I’M OUT!!

Peace,

Steph

While I’m not going to sit here and talk about “true love” (a concept I find to be neither realistic, nor enticing) for hours on end like a giddy school girl, I did hear someone utter this phrase on the subway the other day to one of her girlfriends.  They were discussing a recent break-up, or overanalyzing a man’s behavior (there’s just no point, b/c there is no logic to a man’s behavior, other than plain selfishness 65% of the time), you know, “Why didn’t he call?” followed by a plethora of excuses fabricated by her best friend in order to justify the boy’s bad behavior.  I have never believed in such a concept, I mean sure it’s nice to think about, but it’s also a dangerous way to think about relationships.  Does that mean if you never date anyone you consider to be your “true love”, you are destined to lead a life of solitude?  Scary!  Another thought that crossed my mind was, “Why do women waste so many thoughts over trying to figure out what a dude is thinking?”  I admit, I too, have been guilty of such things; however, it’s especially painful to witness when the girl is clearly beautiful and leads a very successful life.  I know what he’s thinking, “He’s thinking about Monday night football with his friends, and should ladies happen to be present, then so be it.”  Done!  I wanted to slap the friend—yes, she thinks she’s doing good by her friend—providing the girl with many potential excuses, but all she is doing is prolonging the inevitable, and making her friend crazier than she already was!!  It’s all a vicious cycle, don’t you see?  My advice to anyone who’s been there for a friend, who’s told them, “NO it’s not you…it was the WD–that’s why his performance was sub-par,” who has been that shoulder to cry on: SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP, GIVE THEM A HUG. TELL THEM TO GO FOR A RUN (EVEN IF THEY HATE THE IDEA). TELL THEM TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR SO THEY CAN SEE…SEE THAT THERE’S NOTHING TO CRY OVER. TELL THEM TO HAVE A DRINK, BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON’T TELL THEM WHAT THEY WANT TO HEAR.

Naturally, this realization did not come to me on the subway, or I would have said something.  Actually, I would have asked for the boy’s address, and then popped up at his house, just so I could punch him in the face for taking away 10 minutes of my life that I will never get back.  No, I went home and fell asleep (contemplating whether or not to run, b/c it seems as if that’s all I ever do anymore).  I slept for probably an hour, then I woke up and said, “Stephanie what are you doing with your life, don’t be lazy.” I went running.  So, on my run I ran into my friend, and it was in our conversation that I had all of these thoughts flying through my head.  The problem is, when you witness an interaction like the one I did on the subway, it has a fantastic way of making you reflect on your own behavior.  In this case, it also allowed my friend to reflect on his behavior, and we did anything but pat each other on the back.  He told me what I have been guilty of, and I enlightened him on what I observed in his behavior in our 3 years (we’ll make it to our golden!) of friendship.  At some point though, we were coming out of Central Park towards Fifth Avenue—the streets were illuminated for the holidays, and full of people—I thought to myself, “Why the hell would you ever need anything when you have this? Why would you ever waste one day caring about someone who was too blind to see who you are, and what you have to give?”  I found my true love, a very long time ago, it doesn’t come in a box and it can’t give me a hug, but no matter what happens to me—bad or good—at least I’m in NY, at least I have wonderful friends, at least I have two legs to run in my favorite place, at least I am here….at the very least.

See? Some f-ed up stuff goes through your head when you go running in the park at night with someone who runs so fast, that you feel like death would be a better option than to stay with them. (love youuu)

…was what my friend ”Sammy Makamoto” said on our way to Thanksgiving Dinner regarding recent injustices that have been done to him.  Naturally, my response was, “WTF?! We’re on a train full of people.” SM replied with a short parable, which I found to be both deep and ridiculous, where content is concerned:

“This is the story of the Chinese general, who was the King of Chu.  This general murdered the family of the famous general, Wu Zi Xu (picture is located on your right), in fear that Wu’s fame would outshine that of the king’s.  Wu then escaped to the neighboring kingdom, also called “Wu” (What?), and helped to build a mighty army.  Years later, Wu exacted his revenge when he marched his army into the capital city of Chu and took it.  By that time, the old King of Chu (the murderer let’s remember) had already expired, so Wu dug up the King’s grave, opened his casket (here’s the kicker), and whipped the decaying corpse to revenge the death and the dishonor of his family.  Moral of the story is children: There is justice in the world, and you should live your life with principle.”  Sammy also asks me to remind you: “Do not mess with Asian men, b/c they’ll just dig your shit up.”

How this applies to me, I’m not quite sure as of yet.  I wanted to put it out there, and let you toss it around–see what you think.  Have I had injustices done to me? Of course I have, who hasn’t?  I think anyone would agree that at times we all wanted revenge on someone who has wronged us, i.e. after a particularly bad break-up—all you want to do is mail back your ex’s stuff in a box.  However, one would never do that, b/c it’s both childish and vindictive, as are many other displays of immaturity that we have all witnessed and been apartied to at one time or another.  I think the point of such a story should be to rise above, to forgive even when you cannot forget.  Take that which is unjust and use it to make you stronger, carry it with you in the form of new found wisdom.  In any event, am I likely to run around with a head full of Chinese proverbs like my good friend? No.  However, I am also not likely to share it with a train full of strangers on the LIRR on a national holiday, and call it a “Thanksgiving Parable.” 

Alright, this was a bit off-the-cuff and now I am finished.  I will update with something more clever and refreshing soon.  I’ve been watching a little too much Lord of The Rings with friends today (which has caused everyone to get a little carried away, I admit), and we have also discussed the amount of running in the week ahead (gross!).  This is usually exciting, but Beantown is so far off that I feel like crawling under my covers with a good book, some Chopin, and hiding out from Winter altogether. aaaaaaah who am I kidding?  Pean would never.

 p.s. I’d be pretty freaked out if there was a ghost army coming at me.

As we all know yesterday was Thanksgiving.  A day where we travel out of our habitat, Manhattan, and make our way to the great suburbs.  From the moment we arrived at our destination, we were treated like family, and I was able to add a little “Pean” to the table with some white roses I brought out from the concrete jungle (I love to bring flowers anywhere that I go—I think they are nature’s reminder of how perfect all living things are).  Thanksgiving has been deemed a day to give thanks, eat yourself to an oblivion, and then sit around for the remainder of the day watching T.V. or, if you happen to be me, grab two of your best friends, a rather large bottle of wine, light some candles, throw on a little jazz and then go through the year in review. 

Now the time period following big dinners like this are especially appreciated in female circles, because it allows us to “air our dirty laundry” or any grievances we may be walking around with, and catch up on any personal stories involving anything from family to work, and of course, relationships.  For example, a friend of mine recently went on a date with this crazy financier (can we call him that?), whom she chronically cancels on (I don’t blame her).  He’s everything Manhattan has to offer in terms of a man: over-the-top, self-absorbed, and has an affinity for taking women to  restaurants conveniently located right around the corner from his apartment.  After canceling multiple times, she (my eternal optimist) decides to go and get it over with.  She knows what he’s about and nothing he says or does is particularly shocking, except for on this occasion they decided to meet downtown, fine.  However, once this individual lured her down to the lower east side for drinks, he made an interesting proposal: “Next time you should wear a fish net body suit.” Take a minute, let that one sink in for you…take it all in.  I don’t think I need to write down her response to such a faux pas in order for you to fully grasp the implications of such a statement, but have we really considered what this outfit looks like? What is it even used for?  A few things come to mind I assure you, and I have attached the image here for you to see (the cleanest one I could find)—how festive.  In the event that no one can supply me with such information, I will take the liberty of performing the research myself and get back to you.  Sorry to digress, but I had to throw this one out there, because honestly…wtf??

Regarding Thanksgiving in general: I really don’t have much to say about it, except the food rocked, the hostess was incredible, and it was nice to relax and chill with close friends.  Plus, my day came to an end in a way that could only be described as priceless. Now, I have always been a rather “spirited” person and anyone can attest to that.  I do, I enjoy running my mouth and telling you exactly what I’m thinking; however, this habit of mine is seldom exercised without provocation.  Well at the end of the night, as I climbed into Marilyn’s car, her ”colorful” brother came up to the window to shake my hand and I started laughing–his reply was simply: “STEPH, YOU NEED TO BE SLAPPED LIKE A MAN, YOU CRAZY BROAD.” I can honestly say that for the first time in my life I had no response…NOTHING! What can you say to that? What does being slapped like a man even entail?  A ridiculous day, but a better time than any words could describe. 

Slapped like a man…….is this seriously my life?

Since I now actually have one of these things (I feel like I’ve been given a baby with no instructions, and I have been told I have to raise it, and get it into an ivy league college) I am just throwing a few rules out there:

As for keeping this blog: I make no promises that I will update it in any timely manner. I am not responsible.  I am not clever.  I also have NO computer knowledge when it comes to posting photos of myself (gross, why do it?) and have no desire to do such things on any sort of “basis.”  I am not a “blogger” per se, and I never understood people who keep them.  This wasn’t even my idea, it is the brainchild of two of my close friends who listen to all my stories and tell me to write them down.  One of them just happens to be a total computer geek, and bought me this domain for Christmas (tears to my eyes, really).  I’ve heard people speak of “blogger burn-out” and I assure you, I’m already bringing that to the table. Do not hold any expectations for me, b/c I hold none for myself.  I will not use this as a vehicle to dump all of my personal problems out into the universe, nor will I use this to discuss any particular topic at length, i.e., my attempts/aspirations to attend medical school, saving the world one child at a time, or writing about the countless mileage I log on my running shoes.  However, I realize that this site can be used for good.  I want this to be a place where I can write down what I see in this crazy metropolis.  How many times have you seen or done something and said, “I can’t wait to tell someone…” I want this to be a place where my family can stay updated and in touch, and be a place where the lovely and incredible things my friends do everyday can be shared, so that everyone else can know how amazing they are….not just me.

Alright, that’s all.  I’ve already taken up way too much time writing this, and therefore everything I just said above is total nonsense now.  Have a kickin’ Thanksgiving Eve, and Thanksgiving Day!!  Later.