Thank you, Mr. President, for finally saying out loud what we have all known to be true: Love is love is love. And now I love you even more.
Today was one of the most beautiful days I have experienced here in San Francisco. The sun was shining — even in the often cloudy Richmond District, where we live — there was a warm breeze and all of the trees and plants were blooming. The air smelled the way I imagine Heaven smells, if you believe in that sort of thing.
In short, there was no way in hell I was going to set foot in the YMCA to get my workout done today.
Instead I took the loveliest of all walks with my friend Kristi, who is battling through day two of the Can Can Cleanse. For someone who hasn’t eaten a morsel of food in almost 48 hours, she was remarkably good company.
We walked roughly 2.4 miles, according to my Google Maps calculations. Here was our route (one way, since I still can figure out how to map it round-trip):
Power song: On The Floor
Run dedicated to: Leanne Schmidt
I met my friend Leanne years ago at Pacifico, a Mexican place in our Brooklyn neighborhood that’s responsible for roughly 84% of my life’s worst hangovers.
Pre-baby, Dave and I used to meet up with our dear friends Charlotte and Kyle every Friday night at Pacifico to get food, get toasted and get into in a sloppy, philosophical debate or play a bizarrely heated tournament of Buck Hunter.
At the time Leanne was a waitress there. We first took notice of her not for her friendly demeanor or lovely smile, but for her seemingly horrific mathematical skills: Somehow, at the end of an evening, a $100 worth of food and booze would mysteriously translate into a $20 check.
After the third or fourth time we dumb-dumbs finally caught on and started requesting her section (supplementing the $20 checks with $50 tips). And it was at that time, between monolithic pours of Jamesons and free pitchers of margaritas, that a genuine friendship was born.
We learned, in addition to being extremely generous with other people’s food stuffs, that Leanne was a dancer and choreographer and that she ran her own dance company. And one night, after many months of growing to adore her, Leanne invited us to one of her shows.
I am not going to lie: I was nervous. The show was in a small but lovely venue called Triskelion Arts in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. Which, being a Manhattan-bred, Boerum Hill-dwelling New Yorker, seemed to me to be about as close and welcoming as Sing Sing.
But what really scared me was the performance. I thought, well, great. This show is going to be on par with the self-choreographed, one woman “ballet” my 5th grade math teacher once performed in front of us wearing nothing but an electric blue leotard and ripped pantyhose.
I didn’t like dance. I didn’t know a thing about dance. And, I thought to myself, I’ll be in a theater so intimate, I will have to look into Leanne’s eyes as she dances for me. And then I will have to see her after the show. And I will have to lie to her face about how good it was. Which she will see right through. Which will make it awkward between us. Which will mean we’ll have to stop going to Pacifico. Which will mean no more free hangovers. Great.
But here’s the surprise: The show was fantastic. I literally laughed and cried. Leanne’s choreography was smart and heartbreaking and hysterical, sometimes all at once. I never imagined that someone could teach me something about myself using movement, facial expressions and simulated (comedic) sex acts. Nor did I imagine ever meeting anyone for whom bravery and talent could flow so effortlessly.
The beauty of Leanne’s approach, and indeed the mission of her company, is to make dance accessible to everyone: expert or amateur. And in my case, cynic. So at the end of the show, rather than dodging her gaze, I found myself seeking it out. ‘Cause I now had a certified, full-blown girl-crush on her.
So to Leanne, I dedicate today’s run. Because she is premiering her latest masterpiece this evening and I can’t wait to see it this weekend (info and tickets details below!) And because, while I’ve been shaking my booty to change the world for a mere eight days, she has been shaking her booty and making the world a better place her entire life. She forges great things for herself and she’s fearless, perhaps to a fault. Because only someone fearless would give someone like me access to childhood pictures like this:
See you at the show.
Triskelion Arts Presents “The Ostrich’s Way of Dealing With Things is Hardly Productive“, Leanne Schmidt and Company’s sixth evening at Triskelion Arts offers a peculiar and unusual demonstration of how one might “bury their head in the sand” in order to avoid what inevitably needs to be addressed. Set to an epic soundtrack by Vivaldi and Chopin, collaborators Leanne Schmidt and Kimberly Goss poke fun at life’s mini-dramas and personal tragedies combining physicality, humor and honesty. The result is a journey that is rich in metaphor where the audience is bound to find candid similarities between themselves and the performers.
For tickets visit: http://www.triskelionarts.org/leanne-schmidt-company
Power song: Rule The World (Girls)
Run dedicated to: All the streakers out there
I’m at day 7 and can now officially call myself a streaker. Happily for you, I am of the clothed variety. (Thank you, Life, for the photograph. I await the cease and desist but until then: Yay! Flying man things!)
I’ve never before run for 7 days straight so I’ve already reached a personal milestone (I did take Soul Cycle classes for 7 straight days last summer in a last-ditch effort before vacation and, I have to admit, that was infinitely harder).
Should I succeed at this challenge (and I should) I will qualify to join an illustrious group: The United States Running Streak Association, of which there are presently only 313 members. I paid them $20.00 to become an Associate Member and am still not quite sure what that’s bought me. But if I am going to do this, I’d at least like my name on a .pdf.
See you tomorrow.
Today’s workout was another power walk whilst getting shit done. With a meeting this morning, another this afternoon and then work this evening, I just couldn’t squeeze in the gym. I have found, however, that by mapping out my route on Google Maps I can find out exactly how far I will walk before I start my errands. By mapping it in advance, I know if I have to take the long way home or get off the bus a few block early to make it to a mile. Often it forces me to get more done in order to meet my goal.
Today was no problem. I walked a cool 1.6 miles and got all of my errands done — post office, market and Walgreens. (The map above is just one-way, I still can’t figure out how to get it to map my walks round trip.)
Later in the day, I accidentally walked a 15-minute mile when I got on the wrong bus and found myself a mile away from work with 16 minutes to spare. Sometimes the universe just wants what it wants and today it wanted me to hoof it all over town.
How are YOU all doing on your workouts?
Day 6: 2.7 miles
One mile done… by the skin of my teeth. I had to walk part of the way to work to squeeze it in but, luckily, the weather is cooperating. Today I may have to do the same but I will get it done!
This “commitment thing” isn’t always easy, is it?
I love this article from the March 9th edition of the New York Times about how the actress Fran Drescher has decided to take her belief that all people should have the right to marry one step further by becoming an ordained minister who specializes in marrying same-sex couples. Inspiring!
“Wisdom is knowing what to do next; virtue is doing it.”
~David Star Jordan, The Philosophy of Despair
With today being my only full day off for the next five days, I decided I should combine my exercise regiment with “getting shit done,” i.e. hiking a mile up to the grocery store and back, for a total of two miles. (Exactly two miles, according to Google Maps.)
And my arms! They are ripped from carrying that huge shopping bag.
Power song: Girl Gone Wild
Run dedicated to: Jeff Nemanick
Full disclosure: I’ve had a few cocktails, a little sun and no sleep.
Dave, Lu and I woke up at 5:20am this morning to catch a flight to South Carolina to visit my parents and I am totally zonked. We arrived at around 11:15am, drove to their home on Isle of Palms and the very first thing Dave and I did was head out “to get the run over with.” Continue reading