Love The One You're With

Hubby devolved into an obsessive IKEA website devotee, rearranging and designing virtual kitchens well into the wee hours of the night.  I did not pick up on this warning sign, naively going about my day, using my kitchen sink with abandon, washing pots and produce willy-nilly without a care in the world.

A few weeks later, watching as brown cardboard box after brown cardboard box was carted into my basement by two wiry men in identical dark blue clothing like Thing 1 and Thing 2, I broke out in a cold sweat.  Hubby’s hobby was becoming my reality and I wasn't fully prepared. 

We are now 4 weeks into the kitchen rehabilitation and we have had a few adventures, like when an unsupported, seven-foot tall cabinet went into severe tilt while Hubby was trying to load it with groceries.

As I looked over the remnants of my former kitchen, the circa 1990's slate grey countertops sawed in pieces, the carcasses of mangled cabinets ripped from their berths, I said, “We are really in this now.”

"No turning back," he confirms.

I realize that we are deep - really, irrevocably deep - in the club of IKEA.

I am reminded of that song that goes, "If you can't be with the one you love, love the one you are with."

I remember that in times of stress, a good strategy is to Find Your People.

I took a trip to ikeafans.com and it did not disappoint.

If you are chin high in furniture and furnishings with funky spelling and questionable pronunciation, this is the site for you.  This site contains forums that explicitly explain what Swedish-tinged, vague illustrations do not.  There are blogs detailing kitchen renovations day by day, making my current situation feel so much less catastrophic. Here you can find those long lost instructions on how to install shelves and posts like "Top Five Things To Do With Flat Pack Boxes."

As any IKEA customer knows, flat pack cardboard boxes are part of the IKEA lifestyle.  Not to brag, but bullet #3, Make Cardboard Castles, has been thoroughly mastered by the two princesses-in-waiting in our house. We now make giant treasure maps and dance floors.

I then took a trip over to positivefanatics.com, also for IKEA clients.  Here you can commiserate with somebody who has tried to retrofit the very same VARDE cabinet that is making your knuckles and brain bleed.  You can find the exact location of those missing 1'4" wooden dowels that are packed in a different box, taped, inside an unmarked flap.  You can even get a jumpstart on your next IKEA project courtesy of this scoop, "IKEA Fans Score Coveted 2011 IKEA Catalogs Two Weeks In Advance."

It is nice to know that when you are in the trenches, you are not alone.  Those days when you think you might lose your mind from the hammering and your back is stiff  from washing dishes and strawberries in the bathtub because the kitchen sink is not hooked up, you can always Tweet to Your People, those @IKEAfans who have gone before you on this adventure of 50 boxes of kitchen.

How To Get Back In The Saddle

Photo by D Medeiros

I injured my back almost two years ago, effectively putting my running shoes on ice. I have since healed and my running has resumed. But two years after my initial injury, I still hadn't run a race. Why the avoidance? In my mind, a less-than-stellar official performance would confirm my fear: I am not be the runner I used to be.

But really, who is the runner any of us used to be?

We had a tête-à-tête and my internal naysayer quieted. I laced up my big girl shoes, determined to get a race under my newly rehabilitated belt and reclaim the tag, "runner."

If you are also looking to get back in competitive mode after a hiatus, and you are not Lance Armstrong or Michael Phelps, please learn from me, a runner who runs like the rest of us.

1. Find a race and course within your comfort zone.

There is no need to go for a marathon your first time back out in the field. Like Bob says in the movie, What About Bob?, “Baby steps, baby steps.” For most of us, a 5 kilometer race should suffice. I found such a race, held on a Sunday, that went right through my neighborhood, which means I train that particular course frequently. Any more in my comfort zone and I’d be running in my pajamas in my living room.

To find local races in your area, try coolrunning.com or active.com.

2. Do not look up your previous splits and race times.

Times are not that important. The goal here is to get your running legs back and remind those muscles fibers, including those in your brain, what running a race feels like. The twitching nerves at the start, the jostling for position, the calm when you settle in your rhythm, the self talk, these are the components of racing with which you should get reacquainted.

3. Look the part.

Update your gear. Shoes, helmets, tires, they all lose their essential properties and break down over time.  Same as your knees and hips if you use old, worn gear.

You are a clean slate. Running on sneakers from 2002 in your favorite Frankie Goes To Hollywood t-shirt does not say "clean slate." Temper current fashion with comfort. However, you don’t necessarily need to buy Vibram Five Fingers or whatever shiny new toy has hit the market, which leads my to the next point:

4. Now is not the time to experiment.

No new training regimens or diets. Go with what has worked in the past.

Trying new foods and new nutritional supplements risks stomach and intestinal upset. A port-a-potty crawl is not the way to enjoy your first race back. I eat easily digested carbohydrates and proteins, i.e., scrambled eggs, yogurt and a banana. It’s what I know works for me.

5. Stop about the splits already!

My first race back, I ran the first mile in 7:50. I was pumped. Then, during the second mile, a fellow runner collapsed, about 5 people ahead of me. Several runners stopped to help him. I heard somebody shout, “Call 911!” Since I run with my phone I call "iphriend" and follow orders well, I leaped into action and called for medical assistance. Once proper medical attention was secured, most of continued on to finish the race, though our times for the race were now shot. Why? Because times and splits are not that important.

I run because I can.

Maybe because I am female and have battled numbers my whole life - weight, height, GPA, BMI, bra size, all of it limiting and depersonalizing, I feel strongly that numbers are not that important in the grand scheme of things. Get over it and move forward.

6. Commit

If you sign up and pay for a bib number, you are more likely to follow through to your goal. If you tell your neighbor or friend to meet you on the corner so you can walk to the race start together, you are more compelled to do it . If you tell you family and friends about the race and they make a little cheering section for you and you alone, you are going to want to show them how strong and fast you look, even running up that hellacious hill on Hunting Ave., the Heartbreak Hill of my race. This is about pride and whatever it takes to get thee to the finish line.

I didn’t win this race, but I didn’t come in last either. It’s good to be back. Like I suspected, I am not the runner I was before.

I am happy to report, I am not that runner at all anymore.

Sweet Sweet Jane

Photobucket.com

I think my hairdresser is in the wrong business.

I think she should do my taxes.

We hardly speak, which is why I keep going back. Because what I really, really love about my hairdresser is that she doesn’t talk to me.

My last hairdresser was a peach of a guy, very friendly and chatty. But early on in our relationship I made the mistake of admitting I keep current on politics and news. So every time I was in his chair he would pepper me with questions and then describe – verbosely – his opinions. What do I think of Biden's latest gaffe? Is Palin a wingnut or what? What about that guy, what's his name, who wrote that book, what's it called? I had to get myself psyched up, anticipate what he would want to talk about and read the latest Time magazine just to get a haircut.

The haircut was fine but the chatter almost did me in.

But then I found Jane, sweet, sweet Jane. She is great with hair. And as quiet as a church at midnight.

Early in the appointment, we exchange the niceties: How are the kids? Are your parents back in Europe? How was Halloween? Did you have a good conference day? I like your shoes. That sort of thing.

Then we are all done. I browse People and OK! magazines, I check my email and text on my iphriend. I daydream and overthink to my heart’s content, while Jane studies hairs numbers 6 and 334, matches them up and coordinates them like long-lost identical twins.

I hear the soft snips, like a distant halo around my head, old, dry ends falling away. Jane is a like a ballerina, her face intently serious, her slim limbs gracefully arching with gentle, soundless steps around my chair. Snip, snip, pirouette, snip.

Just like marriage, when you find your match, it’s best to settle in. In my current follicular situation, I settle in for 2 hours and fork over $135 dollars plus tip when we are done. This is a fair price for a good haircut and some silence, better than a therapist’s couch.

If you like quiet, too, know that you are not alone, although you might want to be. Here is a list of top ten careers for quiet people from careerbuilder.com. #10 is writers. Hairdressers do not even make the list. Nor do tax preparers.