Archive: Free Time

In exactly one month, I will be en route to visit my sister in DC for the 2nd Annual RA & Zeister Shopping Extravaganza! Yay! Last year, we managed to combine sightseeing and shopping, but this year, we have abandoned cultural enrichment for a higher cause, ahem. Zeister and I are well-matched in terms of shopping stamina and pace, and we can both sniff out bargains like no other. We have mapped out a strategy for the weekend that optimizes shopping locales and desired eating options because, despite our diminutive size, we are champion eaters.

I have been on a self-imposed spending freeze for the last few months in an effort to save up my personal spending money so that I can be optimally effective during our shopping marathon. However, delayed gratification was never my thing. It’s difficult for me to look ahead toward the weekend o’ shopping when so many lovely and practical goods are dancing in front of my very eyes.

Sigh. Must be strong. One month to go.

1. Denim Cap Sleeve Jacket at Ann Taylor Loft: $19.99 (originally $59)
2. The Joys of Love, by Madeleine L’Engle, at Amazon: $11.53
3. Loop Hoops, by Kate Szabone, at Etsy: $19
4. Tiffin Lunch Box Set at Design Within Reach: $85*
5. Embossed Beach Dress at J. Crew: $69.99 (originally $125)
6. H Bag at Brooklyn Industries: $68*
7. Privos at Endless.com: $79.99*
8. Vollrath Co. Cookie Sheet (as recommended by the America’s Test Kitchen) at Amazon: $24.95
9. Active Zip Jacket at Old Navy: $16.50 (originally $26.50)

* Totally outside of my budget now and in the foreseeable future.

You started to run a couple of months ago, but not because you liked it. In fact, you hated running. Even in elementary school, the mile run was the one aspect of the physical fitness testing that baffled you from the start. You could whip all the boys in pull-ups, sit-ups, and definitely the sit-and-reach, but you lagged behind during those four laps on the track every year.

Despite that, you knew that you had no endurance, and that it’s best to start exercise habits when you’re relatively young and spry, instead of when the metabolism decides to move on to greener pastures. Plus, building up cardiovascular health was a good investment for the future, especially since high blood pressure runs in your family. The climbing gym had treadmills, but your only pair of sneakers was at least five years old. And then you found a pair of Asics for half off, so there was really no excuse.

You set up a program for yourself to run and walk for thirty minutes every time you were at the gym. You started out at eight minutes of running, and made a resolution to replace two minutes of walking with more running every two weeks. Once you got to twenty minutes, you’d start jogging around the neighhorhood, and maybe even with the dog. You got a small notebook to log the distance and times and bought cheap hand towels to mop up perspiration. You were ready.

And, really, you weren’t that bad. The eight minutes weren’t fun, by any means, but by the third or fourth time, each pounding step on the conveyor belt no longer elicited strong feelings of hatred. You concentrated on staying on the balls of your feet and breathing correctly, and you were surprised at how the degree of torture was less than you anticipated. You successfully ratcheted up the running times, and you learned quickly to cover up the clock with your notebook, so as to avoid counting off every dragging second. You find that you don’t mind the running, once you get down to it.

You’re working on sixteen minutes of running this week, and at the pace you’ve picked, that’s 1.2 miles. Due to last week’s horrendous heat wave, you took a hiatus of twelve whole days, according to the notebook. That is not good. This time will probably be painful, just so you know.

As usual, start off with two minutes of walking warm-up. Squeeze an old tennis ball in your right hand to build forearm strength. Two more minutes at a slightly faster pace, and then head in to the sixteen minutes of running. Slide the notebook over the digital display to hide how slowly the time is passing. Focus on the climbers in the gym. Tell yourself not to check the time until the guy on that white route comes down to the ground. The last three minutes of running are a challenge. You feel your feet flattening out and your arms flapping, but you lean forward and pump your arms to finish out. You’re aware that your face is beet red, and you can feel the sweat dripping down the small of your back. Lovely. Remind yourself that the mirror is showing much more toned calves, and you may even see that creep up your thighs. Yes, remember that.

At last, the sixteen minutes are over. You made it. Now, six minutes of brisk walking. Drink water slowly. Drape the towel around your neck. Breathe deeply. Two minutes of slower walking, and then two last minutes of slow, cool-down walking. Squeeze the tennis ball in the left hand. The distance meter reads at two miles, and that feels pretty good. You’re getting closer to that vague “5K in the future” goal. You hobble off the conveyor belt, gather up your running paraphernalia, and return the magnetic key to the front desk. After pushing through that half hour, you’re ready to sit in front of the gym’s big turbine fan and stretch slowly. You earned it.

Usually, my Saturday plans are to sleep in, watch DVRed episodes of Food Network shows, take a nap on the couch, and maybe try a new recipe, if I’m feeling wild. I like my weekends to be drastically different from my workday existence, and I dread feeling like I didn’t manage to rest at all before Monday morning. Although this past weekend certainly fulfilled the criterion of novelty, I could use another day to recover. See, JG and I spent our Saturday tramping along trails and scrambling over rocks so that we could try to climb boulders. I guess I can’t say that it wasn’t a departure from the norm.

Ten of us met to go bouldering in a stretch of state game land in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, in the township of Haycock. I’ve mentioned bouldering briefly, but the basic idea is to climb up a large boulder that’s usually about fifteen feet high. We look on the surface of the rock to find holds for hands and feet, and because there is no rope, other climbers look out for safety by spotting and cushioning falls with crash pads. Bouldering is one of the most low-maintenance forms of climbing because it requires very little gear: just shoes, chalk, and a crash pad.

We set out in a brisk walking pace on a trail that was more akin to piles of wet leaves than a beaten-down path. I had a tough time keeping up for a handful of reasons: my short legs are no help with fast, all-terrain walking; the rocks in the path were slippery from days of on-and-off rain; and I was carrying almost four liters of (heavy!) water in a backpack that was too large for me. During single-file hikes, I worry about holding up other people with my slow pace, but at the same time, Don’t leave me behind! What if I slip and smash my face on these rocks? I like to think that I am relatively sure-footed, but the combination of the slick surfaces, quick pace, my off-kilter center of gravity, and my vivid imagination regarding injury made me so cautious that I resembled the group’s elderly relative. Had the trip been more climbing than hiking, I may have been less tense and twitchy, but that was not the case.

That said, the climbing was a lot of fun. Even though some of the boulders people wanted to climb were slick from the rain, I finished two easy problems and took scads of pictures. The fog cast a kind of moody light into the photos, and I enjoyed my first chance to try to capture climbing. Everyone seemed to have a good time, and no one got hurt, if we exclude the giant goose egg of a bruise I have on my knee.

After a good six hours of hiking and climbing, most of the group came back to our house for a cookout. We gorged ourselves on burgers and hot dogs (”Hey, we burned a lot of calories!”), took turns on the slackline, and threw quoits while Ted looked on. Even though I had my moments of frustration with the hiking, and it would have been nice to have drier rock, it was a good trip. Our fearless leader is already making noises about a June excursion, so we’ll see what comes of that. For now, I’m happy stretch out my sore muscles, clean off my climbing shoes, and set aside this Saturday to be nice and slow.

Jen and I have had lengthy discussions via Gchat on how we aspire to be “put together.” It’s not that we want to be trendy or have expensive clothes, but we want to look as though our appearance is somewhat intentional and cohesive. We’ve talked about how our wardrobes seem run-of-the-mill and tired, but we don’t know what to do about it. We don’t think we qualify for a fashion makeover show, but we were missing something. Neither of us is totally brand-loyal (with the possible exception of Ann Taylor Loft), but we both believe that knock-offs are fair game, as long as they’re cute. Between finances and unsteady fashion sense, how do we achieve some sort of happy balance?

Lately, I’ve adopted a strategy that I think is helping me progress in this mission toward being put together. I’ve accepted the fact my wardrobe consists almost entirely of solids. I don’t know how to work with prints, and they usually seem too loud to me. I’m comfortable with solids, boring as they might be, so I’m going to stick with them. With a neutral base of clothing, I’ve slowly added in jewelry and shoes to add accent color, thanks to the help of gifts from Christmas and my birthday. Since the purchase is technically a present, I don’t feel as guilty about spending over $30 on a necklace, for example. I’ve found that I’m taking more risks than I normally would, and I figure that a turquoise necklace and flats can do a lot to liven up black pants and a gray sweater.

Yesterday, when I finished getting ready in the morning, I felt so proud of my outfit that I had to IM Jen: “I have to share with you how put together I feel today.” She cheered and made me describe the outfit:

• Black and white faux wrap dress: Ann Taylor Loft, bought with gift card last year
• Black cardigan: Gap, have had it forever
• Chunky cranberry necklace: Ann Taylor, bought with gift card
• Red patent leather flats: Bandolino, bought on sale in DC last summer

I felt cute and chic, like I had finally won a battle with print and color. I tend to err on the side of matchy-matchy, but the necklace and the flats weren’t the same shade of red, so I think I’m improving.

All of this is to say that maybe, just maybe, I have finally built a sense of personal style after foundering for several years. I don’t think I can manage yesterday’s level of put-togetherness every day, but it’s a start. Today’s ensemble is a leafy green top, a flared black skirt, pearl drop earrings, and a pair of paisley flats bought with — you guessed it! — a gift card during a “buy one pair of shoes, get the second half off” sale. I wish I had a long necklace (maybe black or silver) to wear with it, but that might have to wait until another gift card falls in my lap.