Hello! Happy Monday!
I’m back in my beloved NYC after a whirlwind weekend of traveling to Boston, New Hampshire and back to Boston…and then back to New York.
Overall the weekend was wonderful — there was great food, good company and a love-filled (and cupcake-filled) baby shower for my sister-in-law.
But on my end, this weekend also came with many firsts.
- The first time my plane seatmate yelled at me for “wanting to sit wherever I want” (which was in my assigned seat — or wherever was convenient for her).
- My first double-digit treadmill run. (Kind of. More on that in a moment, but I’m counting it as an accomplishment.)
- My first visit home where I made my bed every morning, did my own laundry and didn’t leave dozens of empty water cups all around the house. My mom hates that. I think she is excited that I’m growing up and stuff.
- Possibly the first time I woke up, wanted to run, realized things hurt and told myself “it’s smarter that I not run today so that I can hopefully run for the rest of my life.” My maturity blows my mind.
- My first time throwing/hosting a baby shower.
- The first time I went home, talked to my dad about things like finances and taxes and didn’t leave the house in tears. Again with the maturity and the grown-uppedness. Money makes me panic.
I will expand on these things, because I know you’re dying for more information, especially about my near-brawl on board a JetBlue plane.
My trip to the airport Friday night was flawless. I took the Long Island Railroad easily to Jamaica Station, boarded the oh-so-smooth AirTrain and got to speed through security thanks to an Extra Legroom seat. Very fancy indeed. I even had time to eat a pre-boarding sandwich.
And then I boarded the plane — excited and oddly honored to be in Seat 1A — and I stood in the aisle while the sprightly (false) old man and woman presumably in Seats 1B and 1C emptied out their 400 bags, got organized and buckled. I stood there waiting to scoot through to my window seat, which I could have cared less about. I said excuse me, the woman stared at me and snipped, “Yes?” “Oh I’m in 1A, the window seat. Since you’re already seated there and buckled, I can take the aisle. I don’t mind!” (Truly I didn’t. It’s a 37-minute flight from JFK to Boston.)
[Woman rolls eyes in the most dramatic of fashions. Ali is confused.]
“No no, ma’am, you sit wherever you’d like, really. I’ll just get up and move seats.”
It’s all very odd, she makes a big fuss, there’s a huge line waiting to board the plane, and then some dude waiting behind me as I try to squeeze out of the aisle yells at me, “People are waiting to board you know!”
Drama drama drama. Plane travel brings out the very best in people.
Now that you know that really good story, I would like to add that I actually kept my cool, smiled politely, and took my seat. When the plane landed, the woman turns to me and goes, “Don’t worry, I’ll hurry off the plane. I know you’re in some kind of rush.”
So that was Friday.
My parents picked me up in Boston, we road tripped it up to New Hampshire, we laughed, we bonded, and I was tucked into my childhood bed sometime around 12:15 AM.
I asked my mom to tuck me in, but she took one look in my room, said, “It looks like you’re already tucked,” and moseyed down to her room. Thanks, Mom.
Saturday was gym day at the Feller house! My dad is a Planet Fitness member in nearby Concord — a whopping 30 minutes from home — and I was excited to join him for his Saturday morning routine.
Now if you’ve read this blog for more than eight seconds, you know that I friggin’ hate the treadmill. It’s hard work and it’s a mental battle for me, but mostly I just get really sweaty and really bored and I can’t wait for the run to end. It’s not what I would describe as a “great time.”
Still, I wanted to get in some double-digit mileage on Saturday since my running has been sub-par during the never-ending flu/Crohn’s/hip/knee/shin splint/tuberculosis saga. And so, I said I would run 10 miles on the treadmill, and that’s exactly what I did, besting my previous treadmill PDR of 7 miles.
It’s up for debate, though, I suppose, because I didn’t actually run all 10 miles at once.
VERY IMPORTANT QUESTION: Does my treadmill PDR still count?
I started off with seven miles. My plan was to “take it slowly and easily,” so as not to further aggravate the various injuries or whatever, but I was bored and decided to continually pick up the pace as I ticked off the miles.
My stomach was feeling lumpy — that seems like an appropriate word — so I hopped off the ‘mill, made a quick locker room bathroom stop (more convenient than Central Park!) and did some tricep dips while my dad got his ab machine workout on.
And then I went back to finish up and knock out three more miles.
Yes, you can see my reflection in the treadmill. Probably my best look yet.
I will say that as much as I’d rather run outside, I am a little bit proud of myself for sticking on the treadmill for so long. I zoned in, played my music as loudly as possible and tried to entertain myself with people watching.
I also just like hanging out with my dad, and even though we didn’t technically work out together, we did meet up by the arm machines for some fun. My dad took pictures. Again, “for the blog.”
So I did some running, some lifting and, believe it or not, some stretching. I wanted to hang out at the gym forever because there were so many pretty yellow and purple machines, but I had a busy day ahead that involved outlet shopping.
That was a success. Everything in the world was 40% off.
Question: How do I get my landlord to give me 40% off my rent? I’m starting to border on “past-due” territory and that scares me.
My mom also let me drive, which was not scary for anyone involved.
We spent the rest of Saturday doing baby shower prep work, and by that I mean my mom made banana bread and zucchini bread and I ate a lot of junk food. Also, my dad showed me his “really cool new toy” which is a camera that takes pictures of “motion” in the backyard.
This is New Hampshire, people. Get entertainment wherever you can.
While there were no cool photos of moose trekking through our backyard or bear fights in the pool, there was one really cool shot of exciting wilderness activity:
If you look closely, you’ll see a wild beast moving by the bird feeders. His name is David. He cannot be tamed. Do not feed him.
I woke up Sunday really wanting to do another run. It was crisp outside, I had my compression socks ready to go and I had spent lots of time icing various body parts on Saturday. But I took one step out of my bed, my entire left side hurt, and I said to myself: “Self, do you really want to run today, or do you want to run forever?”
So I didn’t run.
I’m trying to be smart. I want millions of pats on my back.
I did still break half a sweat though, thanks to some Exercise On Demand.
I did 8-minute abs, 8-minute “booty blast” and some sort of Latin Dance Fiesta Party Boom Boom Clap. It was taxing.
The highlight of the weekend, and the reason for this trip home, was to throw a baby shower for Michaela, my sister-in-law who is adorably pregnant with a baby due on May 22. I’ve never been an aunt before, so I took this all very seriously.
No cupcake left behind.
Also, we may have gone a little overboard with the presents. My dad was not super impressed when we told him we needed help packing the car.
The shower was at Michaela’s neighbor’s house outside Boston, and everything went perfectly. At least I think it did…I hope it did! I know that I ate a lot and there weren’t too many leftovers, so to me that is a sign of a successful fiesta.
Plus, the fruit water was a hit. I was psyched about that.
Eventually I had to leave the shower to fly back to NYC, which was uneventful, and last night I got to be reunited with Brian, who finally returned from his Italian vacation. Thanks for coming home, Bri! I’m glad we are still dating despite my unhealthiness.
And I know you’re wondering, “But Ali, while you were home did you have time to scour your childhood home for more Third Grade Ali journals? They are so fascinating.”
The answer is a resounding YES.
My parents have saved everything I’ve ever done. Lucky them.
But not just Third Grade Ali. We’ve got First Grade Ali, too, who thought her writing was original when, in fact, it was not at all.
But I have to give some credit to First Grade Ali, because she was super into religion and culture.
OK, we’re all caught up now, I think.
I have no grand tales of a morning workout today. Instead I slept in…and didn’t shower. Don’t worry, I’ll sweat later, and I’ll tell you all about it in explicit detail.
YOU CAN CONTRIBUTE TO THIS CONVERSATION: Tell me one of your weekend firsts! First race? First unexpected PR? First time forgoing a workout in favor of extra sleep (I’m fine with it)? Tell me! I’m nosy!