dirty thirties

Fun weekend! Yesterday morning I got up and knocked out a 9-mile run over the Williamsburg bridge, along the East River, down to the South Street Seaport and back. It felt good to hit my running stride again! And I love doing long runs into Manhattan; there's something so meditative about zoning out to music and watching people of all shape, sizes, and backgrounds in the midst of their morning routine. Later in the day, I headed out to Queens to celebrate my pal Alice's 30th birthday at a humongo beer garden. It was a gorgeous afternoon, perfect for sipping pale ales and playing card games. Afterward, Erik and I gorged on fresh seafood at a Greek restaurant in Astoria, and then came home passed out by 11 p.m. Because, clearly, that's what 30-somethings do on Saturday night.

arrested development

A few days ago, I was scrolling through Facebook when an update stopped me mid-click. A childhood friend, Michelle, posted "happy 13th wedding anniversary!" to her husband. She smiled radiantly on her page, her arms wrapped around her adorable preteen daughter. Although I haven't talked to Michelle in years, it's crazy to think how differently our lives have unfolded. She got married right after high school and settled down in our hometown. I, on the other hand, moved to the real-life equivalent of Never, Neverland: Williamsburg, Brooklyn. In my neighborhood, it's socially acceptable for 30-and even 40-somethings to share a tiny apartment with three other dudes and spending their evenings slamming beers and flirting with their next fling. (They're called hipsters!) As I inch further into my 30's, the whole scene gives me pause. While shouting over booming music in a crammed club is no longer my cup of tea (or should I say can of PBR?), I can't say that I'm quite ready to settle in the burbs like most of my high school pals. I'm hoping to strike a happy middle ground. (Pic is of me and my high school buddies, Shawn and Laura. Neither of them have kids, though!)

lacing up my sneakers again

Call me crazy, but I signed up for another endurance event—I'm running the Philadelphia half-marathon with my friends Amanda and Sarah. The race is about three months away, which means that it's time to start training again. That means waking up at 6:45 a.m. to knock out 5 miles before work, devoting my Saturday mornings to long runs, and being exhausted constantly. It's insane, I know, and there are times that I get overwhelmed, but I love it! It also means bonding with friends as we work up a sweat, demolishing an ice cream sundae without an ounce of guilt, and having that post-exercise high all day. But what tops all of that is that awesome, incredible feeling of shock when you accomplish something that you never dreamed possible. I'll never forget the exhiliration I experienced as I crossed the finish line of the NYC Nautica triathlon. Now, that's high worth chasing.

beautiful union

Even though I'm a romantic at heart, I'm not much of a wedding person. Turns out I'm missing the whole white dress-flowers-party gene that's found on the second X chromosome. But the ceremony I attended yesterday had me singing a different tune. After a lot of grumbling, Erik and I headed out to Shelter Island to fete his old boss/mentor, Ro, and his gorgeous bride, Magali. They got married on a grassy hill overlooking the sparkling ocean, and the reception was held in a white tent decorated with twinkling lights, paper cranes, and pastel parasols. The love and joy in the air was so thick you could almost wrap yourself in it like a blanket. It was magical, and I felt so lucky to be there.

first impressions

Last night I was on the L train on my way home from work when, out of the corner of my eye, I spied a young girl with a swollen belly step into the crowded train. The stylish young professionals diverted their eyes as she squeezed into the crowd. I was just starting to get really pissed that no one was offering her their seat when a hulking man covered in full-body tattoos stood up. As I was watching this scenario unfold from the other side of the car, I couldn't help but think that you really can't judge a book by its cover. That's the lesson I learned when I was living in Bed-Stuy. Often, the shadowy characters on the corner were the same kids who'd help you when you grocery bag busted on the street. As tempting it is to instantly come to a conclusion based on their appearance, I have to remind myself that there really is more to it than that.

confessions of a health & nutrition editor

Despite the fact that I work at a national fitness and health magazine, there may or may not be times that I...*

...eat McDonald's ice cream five times in seven days.
...scarf an entire 6-inch sub as a between-meal snack.
...have a glass of wine (or two) and call it dinner.
...inhale the bread basket, entree, and dessert at a fancy press event.
...declare nachos my favorite food in the whole wide world.

*And all of these things may or may not have happened this week.

life's must-do list

My last post got me thinking about all the things that I want to accomplish in life. When I was in college, I wrote down a list everything I wanted to do before I die. I'm proud to say that I ticked off plenty of them—moving to NYC, falling in love, backpacking in Egypt by myself, making a living as a writer—but there are others that I have yet to tackle. Of course, as I've matured, my goals in life have shifted, too. So it's about time that I updated my list. Here goes; I'll be updating as I think of more things...

1. Get married (to someone I love!) 2. Be an amazing mom to awesome kids 3. Buy a house/apartment 4. Learn how to surf. For real. 5. Spend some time in Europe (especially Greece, Spain, and France) 6. Travel in Vietnam 7. Be freelance/be my own boss 8. Own a dog 9. Give up diet soda for good 10. Work at a nonprofit 11. Write a book with my name on it. 12. Run a full marathon 13. Hike the Grand Canyon 14. Grow a garden 15. Take a carpentry class 16. Learn how to knit 17. Have a concise, uncluttered closet 18. See the penguins in Capetown