The Treadmill is My Enemy.

So tonight, newly invigorated with energy from God knows where, I worked out. Not at the gym, no, my part-time job and seemingly endless gas costs prevent me from joining a 24-hour facility with shiny machines, weights, and buff bods. I actually trekked down to the arctic cold basement to use the family treadmill. Set in Cardio mode, incline at 8%, I spent 45 long minutes watching The Office on TBS and jogging, in place.

There's just something about a treadmill that makes me dizzy. First of all, there's no wind resistance. It's just running, but without the benefit of a self-made breeze to cool you down. Not that I needed cooling down in the sixty degree basement, but the air does seem less fresh when you're breathing in the same cubic foot of oxygen. And then there's the monotony of the run itself. At least outside you can turn down random streets, swing by a park, avoid a heinous hill or even pull a Rocky up a lengthy flight of stairs. Unless the treadmill comes equipped with fancy gears to swing into alternating inclines and a screen to make me "believe" I'm running on a sunny beach, I'm really just sweating in my parents crap-filled basement.

Now the elliptical is a machine I can respect. At least on that one I actually feel the muscles that are lit up on that little body diagram on the screen- calves, hamstrings, quads, butt. It's like the manufacturers knew that by providing that diagram, whoever was on the machine would be relieved by the reassurance that- Yes! you really are getting what the machine promised! Look! Those little lights were right! I can really feel it! Not to mention that on the elliptical you can go backwards. Have you ever tried to go backwards on the treadmill? I haven't dared to myself, but I'm sure myriad viral video posters can amuse you with their attempts.

And to end with a question for any exercise-minded readers out there, why is it that I rarely get a stitch in my side on the elliptical, but on the treadmill I feel like my ribcage is giving me the finger, big time? Maybe I'm just an awkward runner. And what do you do for those little buggers? Breathe? Drink water? Stretch? I really would like to know, especially since mom's treadmill will be my sole form of cardio exercise in the immediate future. Meanwhile, let's hope this new burst of exercise enthusiasm stays with me. Miley and I are back on our way to being in shape! (as long as we can stay away from my parents' kitchen...)

Starting the New Year Off Happy

Having taken an hiatus from writing the past few weeks, I felt the urge to get back on the blogging bandwagon after lunch with my friend Anna today. We were enjoying a steaming hot plate of our favorite pad thai when, out of the blue, Anna told me that I seemed really happy. Not cheery, per say, or chipper like I'd gotten a good night's sleep, but simply - happy. She told me that I seemed to be in a really good place, with a positive outlook on life and the world around me. The words bright and aura may have even entered the conversation. So I got to thinking, I really am happy right now.

It comes as a surprise to me that I've resurfaced from a long dive into what seemed like the most depressed two months of my life, and am now genuinely optimistic. Starting in November with my unfortunate auto accident (my fault), to not getting my dream internship, to all my Christmas money going to the car insurance deductible, and finally wrapping it up with a nice new years bow of borrowing my mother's new Nissan and returning it sans one window thanks to a break-in, I can't deny that I've spent many days recently in the comfort of my dark bedroom. Watching the Office on Netflix. Refusing to set foot in the world lest I get struck by lightening. Oh did I mention- still single amongst a throng of happily coupled friends, with no prospects. All right Universe, I know Karma is a bitch, but lately she's been a bit of a heinous douchebag.

My question now is, what am I unconsciously doing right that my friend has noticed such a positive glow emanating from me?Could be the booze, I do enjoy a strong Irish Coffee in the mornings since the weather turned so bitterly cold. Just kidding! But really, I haven't been exercising, so it can't be endorphines... Maybe it's the joy of living with my increasingly senile parents and not having any money? No, pretty sure that's not it. Frankly, I'm stumped. But I'm kind of okay with that.

What I've come to realize is, maybe it's just part of my DNA to not sweat the small stuff. Maybe I really am an eternal optimist, as much as I'd like to deny it and embrace the witty, cynical person I'd kind of hoped I was. I just don't think I'm cut out for dark and depressing. Two days ago I bought Patti Stanger's book, Become Your Own Matchmaker, and what the Millionaire Matchmaker has taught me in only 4 short chapters is: You'll never be happy with someone until you're happy with yourself first. So that's what I'm going to do! No one is going to get me where I want to be in life, except me. Everyone has the power to control how their life will turn out, you just need the goals and determination to get there.

So here it is, my New Year's Resolution: STOP WASTING TIME. It does absolutely no good to wallow in self-pity about a job, a boy, living arrangements, or money. The harsh reality of being 22 is that no one is going to give you anything anymore. So I'm going to use this blog as a kind of self-checker, making myself accountable for where my life goes in the next year. If no one reads it, at least I'll feel responsible to the universe to make happen what I've set out for myself. So Universe, or Karma, or God or whoever, bring it on. Go ahead and push my buttons, it'll just make me want to kick ass that much harder.




As an afterthought, I realize this may come off as narcissistic/feminist/clichéd new years declarations, but it's what I need right now. And if it gets me to check off one more thing on my "to-do" list today, then so be it.

New poems

Afterimage

His smile burns in my mind like
the still frame of a bedroom
the moment after my finger
compels the lightswitch to
administer electricity and
exceeds the filaments expectations.
His smile remains behind
the darkness of my
closed eyes.


The Dish Best Served

I carefully place on the hook next to the oven
The warm, dry skillet with the silver handle
Once used for dinner's chewy pork chops and
Greasy hamburgers, but now makes more
Delectible dishes since the back of his head
Left the dent, near right in the center and
I no longer burn his Sunday bacon, but
Instead enjoy my own omelette mornings and
Risotto nights.

The Proposal

(loosely based on the Mark and Kate story) can you tell I'm in a romantic mood lately?


Marry me. No. Marry me. No. What do you want? You. Then marry me. I won’t. Tell me why. Because I want to make love to you when we’re sixty. But we will. I want to surprise each other with little things. We always will. A piece of paper doesn’t guarantee that. Then what does it matter? Exactly my point. I want you forever. And if we’re still happy in fifty years. Why wouldn’t we be happy? Two people should be together because they want to be. Don’t you want to be with me? Because they want to be. Marry me. Not because they have to be. We’re not your parents. I won’t marry you. I’m not your father. I want to want you forever. I love you. I want romance. What’s a wedding? Not a day, I want a life. Do you want to marry me? The day that you don’t want to marry me- Never. The day that we don’t want to marry each other- Stop. Is the day we should both walk away.

Promise candlelit baths.
Promise notes on the pillow.
Promise strawberries.
Promise his hands.
Promise the small of her back.
Promise whispers.
Promise forever.

new poetry (first draft)

Inhale

By Sara Theurer

Summer is thick like

breath under the sheets

as you fall asleep.

Stale air, bitter

and humid.

Today the wind blew

cool as new breath

taken from the bedroom air.

Breath drawn desperately from

the cold, fresh space.

The sharp, citrus breeze

cleans the palette

and feel strange at first. But,

wonderful as it permeates

your clothes and tiptoes

up your back.

I’d almost forgotten the Fall.

The peppermint tea end

to an arduous summer

is a happy surprise.

I stepped outside

and could breathe again.