Things I've Learned Since Living Alone

It's been almost 4 months in my little rented condo and I've come to a few realizations about myself and how I approach life. Here they are:

  • I'm capable of killing spiders (big ones!) on my own. Who knew?
  • I clean up more after myself when it's just me.
  • Except for the mail bin which will never, ever be under control.
  • I enjoy coming home to an empty house. Well, almost. There is usually a fat cat screeching at me for food.
  • I have very little interest in watching TV except on Tuesday nights. Who's That Girl and The Mindy Project make me happy. 
  • I regret all the years of looking down on people who refused to cook just for themselves. Now that I'm alone, truth be told, I'd happily eat cereal every night if grains were allowed in my diet.
  • I am horrible at realizing I'm about to run out of things and preparing accordingly. Last week saw me make an emergency lunchtime run for dental floss, cat food, aluminum foil, windex and tampons. 
  • Given the choice between writing and reading, I've been veering toward reading. However, the allure of writing is once again beckoning. Thank God. 
  • I am capable of eating an entire 90% dark chocolate bar on my own in one sitting. Okay, fine. Two 90% dark chocolate bars in one sitting. 
  • It took me 3 months before I could balance my checkbook. WTF??
  • While I'm not extravagent, I pay absolutlely no attention to money, coming in or going out. 
  • My hand towel holder fell out of the wall and I've decided I'd rather live with it versus going through the process of trying to fix the gaping hold myself. You call it laziness. I call it "living in the now." 

What? You were expecting life-altering realizations? It's only been 4 months, people. Give me time. 

That realizing I'd have to kill spiders lesson really took it out of me. 

Cheers,

Dena

Back On The Bike

I had good intentions this winter of staying active on my bike. Bought an expensive trainer. Positioned the bike strategically in front of the TV. Rode it twice in five months.

Oh well.

So we’ve established I’m not an indoor cyclist. But I’m determined this year to spend more time on the bike. I’ve already taken the plunge and signed up to ride 24 Hours of Booty with members of my company. (Currently under debate: Should we go for time or distance?)

I’ve committed to riding every Wednesday night with a group called “Mary’s Ride” that does anywhere from 26-35 mile rides. Last year I was at the middle/back of the “B” ride. I rode for the first time this past Wednesday and started with the C ride until I build up my leg muscles and my confidence.

I’m fortunate in that my company is filled with skilled cyclists and we usually head out once a week on a group ride. I’d like to average at least 60 miles a week this summer.

This is leading toward a goal of eventually training for an Ironman. Before I throw swimming in the mix, however, I’ll have to deal with the fact that I don’t like to get my hair wet.

Details, details. Happy Friday.

Cheers,

Dena

Life After Boston

Fame fades. Glory diminishes. It probably wasn’t more than 20 minutes after I finished running Boston before I was asked the inevitable question, “What’s next?”

[Amusing side note: Runner friends ask, “What’s your next race?” Everyone else asks, “So are you finally going to take a break?”]

What’s next for me is the biggest challenge I have faced to date. Over Memorial Weekend I will attempt to—literally—run across Georgia

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Can I Borrow A Cup Of Paper Clips?

Blair and I separated in February, each of us moving into our respective apartments. (He has the newer, nicer unit but I have a patio and snagged the Saber grill.) Since moving, I find myself having flashbacks to my first apartment after college when I constantly found myself running up against those small everyday items you expect to find around the house that just aren't there. 

It has come to my attention that toilet paper, paper towels, light bulbs, batteries, rubber bands, post-it-notes, and hand soap don't just magically appear. I realized just two days ago that I don't own a fly swatter when a wasp got in the house and I was reduced to flinging trail running shoes at it as I ran screaming from the room every time I missed. 

Dear Blair: Thank you for filling our home with replacement paper products for the past twenty years. I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. Also, if you have a free moment, there is a wasp trapped in my bedroom that could use your attention. I'm tired of sleeping on the couch. 

Cheers,

Dena