I love to read, but definitely have to remind myself “LAURA put down your computer and open a book” from time to..always. Luckily, last year my secret new year’s resolution was to “feel-like-a-college-kid-and-read-you-ass-off,” and while I didn’t get through a bajillion books, I did get into the habit of swapping electronics for paperbacks more often than not.

In lieu of the snowy weather, me finally getting a bookcase for my “new” room (been here since August, it’s fine) and the fact that I’m trying to organize a book club (which means the first meeting will probably be in 2015, email me if you want in!) I am writing a blog post about BOOKS. Books I’ve recently read, and my favorite books of all time. Happy reading this post about reading! (Meta..)

Recent Reads 

Zeitoun, Dave Eggers

This is a narrative non-fiction account of what happened to a family during Hurricane Katrina, as told by Eggers. It’s an incredible story of a Syrian-American family in New Orleans and intersects the issues of national crises, post-911 racial profiling, and basic human rights. I had no idea how insane NOLA was during Katrina, and what this one family went through blew me away. It’s not my favorite book by Eggers, but it was still a powerful read.

The Sun Also Rises, Ernest Hemingway

Set in Post-WWI Paris, a group of American and European expatriates head to the Festival of San Fermín in Pamplona for love, adventure, heavy drinking. Told in a “lean, hard, athletic prose,” it was heartbreaking, funny, gripping, and charming (with lots of “Lost Generation” themes…ole!). If you also had less-than-fond memories of Old Man and the Sea back when we were way too young to appreciate Hemingway, this book may be your “Ernest” redemption. 

A History of Love, Nicole Krauss

I’ve been waiting for a novel that gives me the chills at the end. It’s one of those stories that slowly intertwines different plots and ends in an “oh my goodness shit I am crying right now” kind of way. The basic premise is a little girl, Alma, is searching for the man who authored A History of Love, (she was named after the book’s main character) while an old man searches for his son. If you want to drown in a guilty-pleasure-but-still-smart-and-awesome-read, I highly recommend this book. 

Half the Sky, Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn

I’ve been meaning to read this book for years and was actually disappointed. It details and tries to find solutions to modern-day slavery, maternal mortality, sexual violence, microfinance, and girls’ education. While it was incredibly eye-opening, I felt like the authors dealt with the issues of female marginalization by marginalizing men, put the West on an insane pedestal, and drowned the reader in statistics. Still, I also feel weird putting down a book that brings so many important issues to light, and did learn a lot from it.

Outside of Sleep, Florencia Varela

This is a book of poetry by my dear friend Flo. She inspired me to start writing my own poems, and while I’m nowhere as talented as her, it’s always good to read for inspiration. Plus, it’s an awesome piece of work. Sneak peek? 

This is how it happens: People leave in the middle of the night:
I might say crushed coral: I might say dusk lag,
that there is something loud beneath me:
I might say a lot of things: The missed stops
at some point, not now but soon: Then the tacit
filling, how to plug the space: How all, less struck now,
conspires into dust heaps, handfuls of hair & ceramic:
How will they polarize, the different cries of grief & battle:
People leave in the middle of the night:
late dinner, early morning, same move to blown glass
architecture: There is no truth but in moment:
Mine is an uneasy singularity, an oceanography. 

Favorite Reads

Unaccustomed Earth,  Jhumpa Lahiri

This is a collection of short stories about the lives of Indian Americans and deals with themes of immigration, love, cultural boundaries, and family. Most of the stories are actually pretty heartbreaking, but are equally powerful and moving.

Siddhartha, Herman Hesse

This is hands down the most important book I’ve read (namaste), and if you hated it in H.S., give it another chance! It’s about the spiritual journey and self-discovery of Siddhartha, right around when Gotama Buddha was roamin’ the earth. My favorite quote? “What could I say to you that would be of value, except that perhaps you seek too much, that as a result of your seeking you cannot find.”

How We Are Hungry, Dave Eggers

Eggers is my favorite author and this collection of short stories is nothing short of brilliant. My favorite story is “Up the Mountain Coming Down Slowly” which is about a woman hiking up Kilimanjaro. Another favorite is “After I Was Thrown in the River and Before I Drowned,” which is told in the perspective of a DOG. However, the story “Quiet” is the one I always come back to, because the main character, Erin, reminds me of my myself so much, and her relationship with the other character, Tom, reminds me of a past relationship I had as well — to a scaaary but awesome degree.

Blankets, Craig Thompson

A few years ago I got on a graphic novel kick, and finally came back to it this winter. I purchased Blankets for my sister-in-law for Christmas, and ended up reading the 592 page book in two days before I wrapped it up. (Shh…). It’s a poetic, heartwarming, and heartbreaking coming of age story intertwined with the oppression of faith and middle america values. If you’re looking to get into graphic novels, I totally recommend picking this up.

The Dance of Life, Edward Hall

Nerd alert. Totally read this for my senior year thesis, but I still find myself coming back to it. It explores people’s concept of time around the world and relates them to how we value relationships, events, music, and work. It’s super interesting and makes you think about the world in a totally different light.

The Lost Continent, Bill Bryson

Bryson is the FUNNIEST writer ever, and is someone I look up to as a writer. This book is an account of a road trip around the US (which also hits close to home), and details his experiences traveling through small towns that other people wouldn’t think twice to visit. If you want to laugh out loud while also learning about the ins and outs of this crazy country, check this out.

A Supposedly Fun I’ll Never Do Again, David Foster Wallace

Since Infinite Jest is about eight times larger than The Bible, I’ll swap that out for Wallace’s short story. This is a hilarious essay about his experience on a one-week cruise in the Caribbean, and basically convinces anyone that cruise lines are the most miserable places on the planet. The magic is in his footnotes, though, where he adds even more sarcasm and humor. It’s about 90 pages, and I promise you’ll crack up reading every single one. #DOIT

“Do what you love.”

 It’s a phrase I hear over and over again, and while I absolutely understand the sentiment behind it, I think it’s a little fluffy. No matter how hard we try, even if we love our job, our hobbies, and our day-to-day routines, we’re not going to find joy in every little task we do. The same goes for doing what makes you happy. What does that mean exactly? Wine, Beyonce, and game nights with friends makes me happy…but I can’t do that all the time.

“Do you what you fear.” I’ve heard this one too, and while I absolutely believe in the power of fear to grow and to do amazing things, I don’t think people should actively seek to do things that scare them. (I am petrified of bees, and will never, ever ever try to become a beekeeper. Horrifying.) 

Which is why I think people should do what gives them meaning. Meaning allows you to do something that excites you, fires you up, and gives you a sense of purpose. It’s also inherently self-serving and at the same time philanthropic. If you can find meaning in what you’re doing, you can usually apply that to not only areas of your own life, but to other peoples lives as well.

And what’s crazy cool about meaning is you can usually find it anywhere. I used to waitress five-billion hours a week, and it literally made me miserable. But on good days, I was able to give my job meaning. I’d tell myself I’d do my absolute best to give someone an amazing dining experience, because if I was in their shoes, I would appreciate that. And me positively impacting someone else’s day was better than cursing my way through a six hour brunch shift.

I’d be lying if I said I loved ever second of what I do. I don’t. But that’s okay, because I’d rather work on giving my life meaning. Greatist gives me meaning because it allows me to grow, be challenged, and be creative. But it also gives me meaning because we’re building something incredibly special and we’re transforming the way people think about health. I’m not only training for a marathon because I’d love to break 3:30 —  training also teaches me the importance of being disciplined and helps me realize the power mentality has on physical strength. I keep this blog because it makes me a better thinker and a better writer, and I strive to write things that are fun and even helpful. I travel to learn more about myself and hit that “refresh” button. I drink coffee in the morning so I don’t come to work a cranky mess and my work pals don’t want to hit me with a bat. 

I often forget that a majority of people in this world don’t have the opportunity to go after their dreams. We’re so incredibly lucky to live in a society that encourages people to chase after what they want to do, no matter how realistic or unrealistic those dreams may be. So if you want to accomplish something and have the freedom to do so… do it. And if you’re having trouble seeking what you absolutely love or what will make you incredibly happy, then maybe it’s because there is more to it than that.  Look for meaning, because meaning endures — it touches us and those around us, and it gives us purpose. And it’s usually right in front of our face, we just have to grab hold.

Marathon training week 3 (spent in Costa Rica): one yoga class, a few hikes, tons of walking, and lots of time spent hoisting myself into hammocks (core work?)

Marathon training week 4: I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous jumping back into training after ten days of being pretty inactive. That said, I guess the power of rest once again proved..powerful?, as this week went pretty well.

 Monday: Optional rest or yoga.

This was the day I traved back to NYC, aka that time I left 80 degree sunny skies to return to a slushy, icy cold mess in NYC. It wasn’t easy to get back into the groove, but I kept myself busy. I did laundry since everything in my pack was preeeettty sweaty, and rearranged some new furniture Ali and I acquired. New dresser? Makes the perfect kitchen cabinet! (Seriously, there’s oatmeal in there…) I considered going to yoga, but didn’t want to trek into Manhattan. I’m going back tomorrow and cannot wait.

Tuesday: 4 miles (7:59 pace), core (am), Cardio Mission class (pm)

Today was the day I introduced my legs back to running, and surprisingly, I felt totally fine. I wanted to keep things easy, but found an 8min/mile pace felt super smooth. I was happy. I also remembered I volunteered to check out a new cardio class at Chelsea Piers for work, and at first was afraid that I’d be overdoing it. However, the class ended up being SO much fun, and not that intense at all —  HIIT mixed with running drills, and strength and balance exercises. It actually felt good to stretch the body and do some strength stuff. (Thanks for the pic, Jordan!)

Wednesday: 5 miles (7:55 pace), 6 x stride.

My legs definitely felt a bit tired on this run because of the double workout. My plan also called for a strength routine, but I skipped it since I volunteered myself for another workout through Greatist that was happening the following day.

Thursday: 7 miles (8:00 pace), 8 x 200 (am), workout with Brett Hoebel (!!) (pm) 

This day wasn’t the best. I woke up at 6 am to get the run and speedwork in, and for those in NYC, you probably remember how freakin cold, windy, and rainy it was. There was a time where I had to hide between two buildings because I literally thought I was going to be blown away. And then it rained. And then my hat flew off my head. I felt slow and cold, and by the time I got to the track wasn’t feeling the 800’s. They were at 10K pace though, so not terribly fast at all, and it actually felt good to get some solid turnover work in. The real pain came later, though, when me and a few friends from work went to a capoeira-meets-bodyweight-workout at 24-hour fitness. The class itself was awesome, but my whole body was feeling super tired — from waking up early to fighting the wind, my legs did not want to be squatting. (And there were a lot of squats!) Brett’s class was a blast… I was just a bit cranky (:

Friday: Optional rest or strength train.

I took rest. This day actually called for 4 miles, but I switched around some things because I knew my body was feeling shot. In other news, I made macaroons and learned they are the easiest things to bake in the planet. Four ingredients! Whoever invented these things is a genius.

Saturday: 15 miles (8:02 pace)

I ate about 27 macaroons the night before to, you know, “fuel up” before this long run. I knew it would be cold, and it may not be pretty, so I decided to be as positive as possible about it. (Thumbs up in my ninja outfit!) And to my surprise, this run was fucking awesome. When I left my house it was 19 degrees, so I told myself that the weather would probably never get worse than this through the entire training cycle. I wanted to keep it easy, but found my first few miles right under 8 minutes. I traveled from Williamsburg to Queens, Queens to Manhattan, and over to Central Park, and by mile 7 still felt strong. I relaxed into a super comfy 8:20’s pace around the Harlem Hills. Other things of note: I saw a man wearing shorts and no shirt (you are insane) and accidentally spit on a dudeman who was passing me on my left (I’m SO sorry).  By mile 11 I was out of the park and took the west side highway down as close to the 14th street L as I could get (to take the train back home). At that time I noticed how good I still felt, and without realizing it, saw my splits were getting faster and faster. I closed the last three miles in 7:39, 7:32, and 7:24, and when the run was over I felt like I could have kept going. Minus my face feeling like it was going to freeze over.

Sunday: 4 mile recovery (9:00 pace), core

Well now. I woke up ready to do an easy 4 miles, and it wasn’t until I was out on the roads did I realize how crappy the conditions were. Everywhere I went was icy, and I had to stop myself from speeding up in order to avoid breaking an ankle. I went on the Williamsburg bridge and got stuck behind a guy throwing down salt, and eventually turned around and timidly returned home. It wasn’t a fast one, but it was a safe one.

In other news, now that I’m back in marathon training mode, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungry in my life. I am literally eating allofthethings, and no amount of protein can turn off my stomach growls. I tried desperately to sleep in this morning (despite these great runs, I still feel pretty exhausted) yet my hunger woke me up at 8am and I couldn’t fight it off.  In Costa Rica, I had the opposite problem. My appetite was nowhere to be seen — I probably ate only two meals per day (well, three if you count mid-afternoon mohitos) which is veeeery strange for me.

Oh well. Bring it, runger. 

The main point of this whole Costa Rica thing was to travel alone. In fact, the idea was literally sparked because I was frustrated by being “so bored” when I was stuck in my apartment for a week during hurricane sandy. Scared I couldn’t find excitement, creativity, and solace in hangin’ out with my dear old self, I thought I’d challenge myself outside the confinements of my apartment. Which, you know, makes things a bit easier…

Throughout my travels, I was actually surprised; I noticed I wanted to be by myself most of the time, and didn’t really go out of my way to make friends with other travelers.  As the days carried on in Costa Rica, I learned more and more about what it felt like to travel alone, and wrote down the pros and cons. And here we are.

Cons:

You have to be more cautious.
Well, obviously. Especially since I am a woman (female? gal?) I knew I had to play it extra safe since I couldn’t rely on the buddy system. This was fine, but I think forced me to be a little bit more paranoid and stressed out in situations that didn’t actually call for a mental freakout. Exhibit A? Sprinting through the town of Monteverde after dark with a pounding heart trying to find a hostel. In the morning light, I realized the place was filled with tourists and is probably the safest place in Costa Rica.

The language barrier can make you feel helpless.
My only regret during this trip was not knowing that much Spanish. I missed the ability to talk to the locals in their language, and felt stuck when they didn’t speak a lick of English and I couldn’t do much more than ask them how they were doing (and tell them “that meal was delicious!” although that didn’t always apply…). There were times when I was lost, too, and nobody spoke enough English to help me out. And when you’re alone, that’s stressful.

People assume you want to be left alone.
This was super surprising. I actually thought I would come home with a bunch of new friends, and while I did meet and talk to some interesting people, it didn’t really go beyond that. I found that small groups of people often meandered to other groups, especially if the Germans found the other Germans, the Danish found the other Danish, etc. But nobody really went up to the weird blond girl who was hammock-hopping throughout the whole hostel. (Sigh.) And while I definitely could have went over to a group to say heyletmehangoutwithyou, I also felt weird being like “I want to hang out with all of you, so please accept me… and speak in my language. Thanks!” 

It can be more expensive.
You know what’s weird? When you get to a hostel and you can either stay in a dormitory room or a private room with two beds. So if I ever wanted a room to myself, I had to pay for a double, which was stupid, and so I rarely did it. Also, as cheap as the local buses are, there were times where it made way more sense to take a cab that could take shortcuts down rough roads. Having a travel-friend would automatically cut the cab expense in half.

You start hating the sound of the voice in your head.
Maybe “hate” is a strong word, but dear lord were there times I wanted to shut off my brain. Not that I was in deep thought the whole time, but since I wasn’t talking to many people, I was mainly conversing with myself. And I couldn’t get my selective hearing to drown out my own thoughts. It was kind of funny and kind of exhausting.

It’s harder to get pictures of yourself in front of cool things.
Kidding about this one, since I didn’t really care. People actually offered to take pictures of me in many places, which I actually found kind of weird. So whatever. No pics of me in Costa Rica.

Okay except for this one. 

Pros:

You can do whatever you want, whenever you want.
F*&K yeah!! But, seriously, how often do you really get to do absolutely everything on your own schedule? Traveling alone meant I could eat when I wanted to, sleep when I wanted to, leave the beach when I wanted to…it was awesome.

It reveals your strengths and weaknesses.
Being alone made me completely vulnerable to what I could handle with ease and what made me nervous or uncomfortable. I found out that navigating bus systems and timing when and where to go places was easy; dealing with a new currency and new food and new social customs was fun. Not having any hostel reservations when I was traveling to a new place made me oddly uneasy, and thinking my computer was going to get stolen while it was locked in my room and hidden under the mattress stressed me to an unnecessary degree.

You feel a sense of accomplishment.
I’m proud I went away alone. I realize that a ton of people do it, and honestly knew it wouldn’t be that scary or challenging. But, it still feels cool. Especially when I explain to people I used my charade skills to get a cab driver to take me to an ATM a town over when I ran out of money.

You have all the time in the world…literally.
Here’s a secret: Time slows down when you’re by yourself. I SWEAR. (That, or the fact that I’d wake up before 7am every morning and usually stayed awake till 10pm.) But I truly felt like my days were years long, and it left me with so much time to do so many different things! At first I had planned to completely “unplug,” but soon realized I had more than enough time to read, write, lay in a hammock, think, eat, wander, sit in buses, get lost, run out of money, etc, and still had plenty of time leftover to take advantage of the wifi (it’s….everywhere) and say hi to friends, the real world, and write and read and do whatever else online. And I was completely fine with that balance. 

No one can obstruct your opinion. 
This was cool. Many people don’t realize it, but our thoughts and opinions are tested daily by every single person around us. I’m guilty of it, as I’m sure most others are, so it was great to side-step that completely. Every town I visited, everything I ate, and every view I saw was completely and only just for me. I didn’t get to hear what anyone else thought of it, so I couldn’t be swayed (consciously or unconsciously) to think differently. And how often do we truly get to do that?

So … would I travel alone again? Absolutely. Will I fly solo for my next bit trip? Probably not. I did miss sharing certain experiences with other people, and while I learned a lot about myself and loved every moment of autonomy and pure “me-time,” I definitely want some pals for my next adventure. Who’s in?! 

Nine days is not enough to travel to a new place.

By the time I reached Alajuela, Costa Rica’s second largest city that’s an arm’s length from the airport, I finally adjusted to the Tico way of life. I got comfortable using the colones currency (just multiply by 500!), figured out how the bus systems work, and learned if you don’t ask for your check, your server will stare at you with your empty plate and wonder why you haven’t. But instead I’m in Alajuela to catch my morning flight, I am in a private room with three beds and a garden (ok, that was kinda cool), and I’m reluctant to take a shower and wash the final bits of sand out of my hair.

The trip is finally over.

 It also was everything I wanted, so I can be nothing but grateful for my adventure. Here’s a brief timeline of what went down in the land of Pura Vida: 

San Jose. I stayed here for a night because my flight got in late, and decided to spend half a day exploring the capital before heading to Monteverde, the cloud forest. I could tell the man who owned the hostel had an immediate hatred towards me, and when I asked when the bus to Monteverde was, he said there wasn’t one and I should take a taxi. I knew that couldn’t be the case, so when I asked him again, he said there was one at 4:30, but the bus station was too far away and I would need to take a cab to the station. I still sensed he was lying, so I left the hostel at 9am to go explore and figure out when the real bus was. The bus station ended up being a 10 minute walk and I purchased my 2:30 bus ticket. I had half a day to walk around the city, but unfortunately everywhere I walked I was stared at, gawked at, or warned I would get my stuff stolen. I didn’t feel threatened, but the people coming up to me were mentally exhausting. Some guy even told me I was in the “red zone” (?!) so I eventually turned around and waited at the bus station for four hours. Not the best way to start the vacation, buuut I got some solid reading in? 

Monteverde. The bus ride to Monteverde was my first glimpse at what Costa Rica really looks like. I was unaware of the drastic elevation change, and was awed by the winding hills we were climbing up and the green stretches of forest in the distance. We made it to Monteverde after dark, and when I got out of the bus there was an eerie wind. I walked (ok, sped walked) into town to find a hostel ASAP; even though it was only 8 or so, the town felt desolate and the wind was creepy. I ended up finding a nice, affordable private room on top of a HUGE hill, and tried to sleep as the wind banged against my window all night.

I learned the Sandy-like gusts were due to the collision of the coastal winds and the mountain winds, which also form the clouds, aka…cloud forest. I spent the morning exploring the small town, then rode up to the forest, going hiking, gondola-ing, and zip lining. Zip lining was INCREDIBLE, totally not scary, and I bonded with a 60-year-old man named Lawrence who was my partner when we rode tandem. (Everyone else in the group was 100 years old and married.) When I returned back into town I considered taking a night hike to hopefully spot from sloths (<3), but I had barely eaten all day and opted for a big meal and one (five) beers. I was in bed relatively early, knowing I had a 6 am bus in front of me. It was time to go to the beach. 

Montezuma. This town is also known as “Montefuma,” and now I know why. There were hippies everywhere and it felt like some international Woodstock convention. The vibe was super cool and very laid back, but there definitely was that air of pretension. BUT, there was also an incredible, incredible beach. I checked into a modest hotel, and once I saw my $25 private room w/ a bathroom, I almost demanded my money back. You know when you’re convinced you’ll get bed bugs when you sleep on a certain mattress? Or when you feel dirtier after taking a shower? Yeah..that was this place. Instead, I figured ” a bed is a bed” and stayed.

Still, the hotel was lined with hammocks that faced the water, and it was literally in the heart of town. I spent the day exploring the beach, reading, and soaking in the first set of rays (it was cold and cloudy in Monteverde) and then got dinner with two guys I had met on the bus. One was from Canada, the other Austria. The following morning the three of us bought papaya and pastries and ate them at the beach, and then I hiked alone to the waterfalls nearby. Later in the day, Iost my two amigos and checked into Hotel Lucy about a quarter-mile from the center of town.

Hotel Lucy was gorgeous, and for a $5 hostel I had a view I’d pay $500 for. I did more reading, more writing, more hammock-laying (I think I spent 80% of this whole trip in hammocks…) and then went into town for dinner. I went to a place with live music and watched La Jazz and Roll, and Argentinian duo, rock out for two hours. I treated myself to an amazing meal of coconut curry rice with shrimp and sweet wine. It was seriously so epic — one of my favorite nights. 

Santa Teresa. Shit. Had I went to Santa Teresa first, I would have stayed there the whole nine days. Seriously. It was a totally laid back, friendly surfers town, with awesome food and awesome people. I found a really interesting hostel to stay at and bunked with four Argentinians. The three days spent there were a blur of walks down the beach, eating avocados with a spoon, drinking mohitos, talking to random Europeans, and feeling incredibly, incredibly content. Some highlights were going to a sunset yoga class in a beautiful studio overlooking the ocean, watching the sunset every other night at the beach while the surfers got in their last ride, and talking to a German guy named Felix who I’ve dubbed The Most Beautiful Man On Earth.

 All in all, this trip was exactly what I wanted and what I needed. I had so much time to myself, but oddly, I didn’t really get lonely. I was also able to really think about traveling alone (for another post!) but for now I’ll say there were some unexpected pros and cons to being by myself.

And even though I definitely was a little bummed returning home, I also felt lucky. Lucky that my job lets me travel. Lucky that traveling excites me, inspires me, and fulfills me. And lucky that I have the funds to go away. 

Yet, I also realized  that I’m not a totally frugal person, but rather I just use my money in different ways. I don’t need a bed frame, but need a plane ticket. I don’t need to spend money on rum in the US, but will gladly spend it on rum in Costa Rica. And that’s the most important thing I learned: If you want to do something, you can make it happen. You’ll find a way… because you simply have to.

Because it’s your life.

So I’ll never stop traveling — I just can’t.  It’s an incredible learning experience and adds so much awesome meaning to my life. Plus, who can turn down the views? (:

This week was an interesting one as far as marathon training goes. After the high of an awesome long run on Sunday, I was greeted by some less-than-stellar challenges. Tis life, I guess.

Monday: Optional rest or yoga.
You know those people who “forget to eat”? Yeah, I didn’t get them either…until Monday rolled around. I was super focused/slightly stressed at work, and before I knew it, it was 6:30 and time to go to my favorite hot yoga class. I realized I literally only ate a few handful of pistachios and a macaroon all day (!!!) yet I still wasn’t hungry and decided to wait until after yoga to eat. Yeah. Mistake. The class was super crowded and I was stuck in the middle of the room inches away from other sweaty, sweaty people. At one point I put my head down on the ground and the whole floor was spinning. I jetted out of there as soon as class was over and inhaled food. Tons of it. Namaste!

Tuesday: Cannonball warmup, 4 miles (7:50), core.
Nothing to note here. Except that I was stupid and wore shorts because I thought it was still “warm” out. It was probably 30 degrees. Poor choices.

Wednesday: Dynamic warmup, 5 miles (dreadmill, 7.5 mph), 6 x stride (dreadmill, almost fell off) 30 minutes lift.
I was not looking forward to working out at the gym, but it ended up not being too terrible. I’d rather run and lift at the same time then split it up throughout the day, and was surprised that I survived 5 miles on the treadmill. I played many, many mind games to pass the time.

Thursday: Dynamic warmup, 8 miles (8:00 pace), 8 x 100.
Well, this run was interesting. I was supposed to do six miles, so decided on an out-and-back that would take me to the East River Park and home to the track for speed work. However, it rained the night before and the exit I normally take to get back to the Williamsburg bridge was flooded. I had to take a detour to get back to Brooklyn, which meant I clocked in 7 miles when I got to the track. And then after the 100’s, I realized it was 8:45 aaaand I had to be at work in an hour. So I had to run the mile home from the track, where I took a record-speed shower and somehow got to work on time.

Friday: Dynamic warmup, 4 miles recovery (treadmill, 7 mph), core
Nothing to note. I was not digging the super cold morning temperatures, and knew I could bust out 4 miles on the treadmill after work. Twas fine.

Saturday: Supposed to run 13 miles. Failed. Reason below.

So now…Costa Rica!

So, I’m leaving tomorrow, which is SO AWESOME. However, the one littttle not awesome thing is that I woke up in the middle of the night shivering, shaking, and super nauseous. I ended up throwing up for way too long (WHAT?! Also, sorry) and have been bed ridden since, only able to hold down water. Not a good look. I’m more frustrated than anything because I had plans to finish up some loose ends at work, make copies of my passport, and go on a trek for sunscreen, linen pants, and a fanny pack. (Yes.) I’m not worried that by tomorrow I’ll feel better (fingerscrossed) but I’m also so confused as to how I got sick. I never get sick. Germs never get to me! This sucks.

In the meantime, I’ve tried to “pack.” So far I have an empty backpack, two books, birkenstocks, passport, and half a bathing suit. Makin’ moves.

I also have been practicing my Spanish. I emailed my dear friend Flo, who’s from Argentina and just happens to be fluent. Here’s what she helped translate for me:

“I have a boyfriend” Tengo novio

“I am innocent” Sou inocente

“May I have guacamole?” Un guacamole por favor?

“Shots” Shots

“Help, I am lost” Ayuda por favor, estoy perdida

“Where is the sloth sanctuary?” Donde esta el sanctuario de sloth?

Again, making moves.

Fingers crossed I wake up tomorrow alive and can get on this damn airplane. Pura Vida!

I’m just barely skimming the surface of this whole marathon training thing, and I’m already catching myself thinking the wrong way:

“I have to run six miles tomorrow morning.”
“I have to get a long run in before I go to the airport.”
“I have to find a way to run while I’m away.”

This sucks. I love running so much, mainly because it is something that has never felt forced. And now that I’ve signed up for the race, created a goal, and received a plan, I need to remember that I’m doing this not because I have to, but because I want to.

I woke up to my alarm clock this morning and for the love of god could not move a muscle. I had trouble falling asleep and had only clocked in five hours of sleep, so decided to skip my morning run in favor for some extra shut eye. Aaand a date with the dreadmill in the evening.

All day I kept reminding myself “you have to run 5 miles later.” The treadmill is definitely the most challenging way for me to run mentally (I honestly don’t think I’ve ever run more than five miles on a machine for sanity’s sake) and yet I managed to do it. I warmed up, pounded out the miles (while CNN repeatedly aired people getting the flu shot), did some strides, and lifted.

But I went though the motions because I had to, not because I absolutely wanted to. Not because I love the sport, and the challenge, and because I want nothing more than to go sub 3:30.

So before I really dive into this train-for-something-for-awhile-to-accomplish-something-really-fucking-hard-thing I’ve got going on, I have to play with words.

I want to run. I want to do tempo runs and see how smooth they can feel. I want 13 mile runs to no longer feel “long.” I want to value rest days and foam rolling and core work. I want to wake up early and explain to the Latinos outside my door the reason I’m just standing there in bright blue spandex while it’s seven degrees out is because my garmin doesn’t have signal yet. 

I don’t have to do anything, so there’s absolutely no point in telling myself that. I want to run six miles tomorrow morning…and I will.

See you soon, East River Park.

I must say, having a running plan is the best thing ever. There’s absolutely no guesswork — I just do what my little sheet taped to my wall tells me what to do. Anyways, here’s a recap of what went down this week:

Monday: Cannonball warmup, 4 miles (7:54 pace), core
For day one, I was more excited than anything. It was one of the few times I’ve actually “warmed up” before a run (I know…) and this cannonball warmup was really cool. I was a little all over the place since I wasn’t used to the routine yet, and there were many chairs and tables in the way since I was doing it in my apartment. After the run, I less than happily did core work, which is deeeefinitely one of my weakest links. I hate that burn. And six-pack abs. Oy.

Tuesday: Dynamic warmup, 5 miles (7:55 pace), 6 x stride, 30 minute strength train
For whatever reason, I was really tired this morning. When I got up to warmup, it took every ounce of willpower to not hop back into bed as the sun was finally starting to rise. 5 miles at that pace felt SO fast for some reason, which kind of bothered me. Doing strides felt nice and I think finally loosened me up. I almost skipped strength training in the PM, since I was literally falling asleep at work. But, I got to the gym and did pushups, squats, core, lunges, aaaand lots of nice stretching and foam rolling.

Wednesday: Optional rest or yoga.
I went with Jocelyn to Yoga Vida to take a class with Hilaria, Alec Baldwin’s wife. (Check em outtttt.) The class was SUPER crowded, and for whatever reason I was squished between the only two guys who were breathing awkwardly heavily and flinging their sweat on me. The class felt more like a boot camp, and at once point we did “ABS!” for 10 minutes. I almost died. Not zen. However, any fitness outing with Jocelyn warms my heart, and apparently Alec even walked into the class. I missed it, though, probably more concerned that the guy to my left might collapse… on me.

Thursday: Dynamic warmup, 6 miles (7:49 pace), 8 x 100.
This run was great. My legs felt fresh and it was warm out. I did 100’s on the track in a tank top and shorts in JANUARY (!!!), yet the tricky part about doing speedwork after runs is the track is about a mile from my apartment. I allot myself about 15-20 extra minutes so I can walk home, yet I still end up rushing every single morning so I’m not late for work. To save time, I eat breakfast and drink water in the shower, which is something I do pretty regularly. Aaand it’s also something I recently learned is a weird thing to do.  Now I’m really scared that the other “normal” things I do are actually quite strange. (I’ll just keep my day-to-day habits to myself…) In any case, here is the shelf where I can keep my oatmeal nice and dry. 

Friday: Dynamic warmup, 4 miles recovery (8:13 pace), core
This run felt nice and relaxed, and was a good way to kick off Friday. Especially since later in the night meant tacos and tequila (and wine…and guac…).

Saturday: Rest or optional lift. I chose rest. So exciting! I just did work, laundry, trip planning, bar with friends, and a (relatively) early bedtime. Perfect Saturday.

Sunday: Dynamic warmup, 13.1 miles  (7:49 pace), IT Rehab Routine
This run was awesome and hilarious. Awesome for the fact that it’s the longest I’ve run since October, I was wearing shorts, and ran a new route which I love. Hilarious for the fact that I PR’d in the half-marathon, technically. I woke up so excited to run (mainly because of the weather) and decided to try going over the Pulaski bridge to Queens, the Queensborough bridge to Manhattan, down 1st avenue from 59th street to the east river path, then the Williamsburg bridge back home. It was magical. I definitely was feeling it by mile nine — at that point my legs were super tired and probably confused as to why I was running for so long. Buuuut I thought about the brownies I’m making for a dinner I’m going to tonight, which carried me happily home. 

One week down, 15 to go. It’s like I’m practically there!….

A week from Sunday, I’ll be in Costa Rica. This trip certainly snuck up on me, but it couldn’t have arrived at a better time, either. When it comes to living and breathing in nyc, I need a break every now and… always.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the art of traveling alone. I’m excited that every decision will be mine, and the only expectation I have to uphold is my own. I can set my own pace, plan my own itinerary, meet the people I want to meet, talk to the people I want to talk to, and go to bed exactly when I’d like. (9pm? 3am?) It’ll be the most selfish nine days of my life… and I can’t wait.

Considering, though, that I’ve spent more time thinking about how I’m traveling by myself than actually planning my trip, it’s time to buckle down and figure out what I want to do and what sort of stuff I need to figure out prior. So here is a working to-do list, more useful for me than anything else:

Learn a few words in spanish. So far I only know “hola,” “adios,” and “cervesa.” I bet it’s worth knowing a few more. 

Finalize travel documents.  I should make a few copies of my passport. There’s a chance I need my yellow fever vaccination card since I traveled in Ghana. I deeefinitely need to call the airline and change my last name on my plane ticket, since I spelled it wrong. (That’s embarrassing.) 

Decide what I’m doing about work. At first this trip was my chance to unplug from everything. But now I’m realizing if I don’t check my email for nine days, my inbox will probably give me a heart attack (maybe several) when I come back. I may allow myself to organize the inbox a few times throughout the trip. 

Pack? This will happen approximately an hour before I leave for the airport. Not worried there.

…Figure out where I want to go. Aside from a booked hostel the first night in San Jose (I’m getting in late and found something super close to the airport), I have absolutely no plans. The hardest part is I simply want to see everything, and I know once I get my bearings straight I’ll have a much better idea of where I want to go/how much time I’ll need. But until that happens, I’ve kind of narrowed down the places I really, really want to see:

The Sloth Sanctuary. Okay. A big reason I decided to go to Costa Rica was because of the sloths. If all I do is sit in this sanctuary for a week and a half and stare at them, I’ll probably still have the best vacation ever.

Monteverde is a major ecotourism destination spot, filled with cloud forests, coffee plantations, monkeys, zip-lining, and tree house hotels. There’s a 7am bus from San Jose, so I’ll probably hop on that after my first night and spend a few days frolicking in the forest.

Montezuma. Something is pulling me here for a few odd reasons. Montezuma is a small, bohemian beach town tucked away in the Nicoya Peninsula on the Pacific side. While the pacific coast tends to be way more developed and touristy (think: all inclusives), this town is touted for its youthful, hippie, and relaxed vibe. It also happens to be the name of the first track of Fleet Foxes’s Helplessness Blues, a song and album that holds a special place in my heart. Unfortunately, Montezuma is far away from everywhere else I want to go, but I still want to make it happen.

via

Puerto Viejo is the largest town on the Caribbean coast — the side I want to explore most. This coast is known for its laid-back, Afro-Caribbean population, with less tourists and more culture. I want to make some Rastafarian friends, go white-water rafting, and hang out with monkeys.

Tortuguero is difficult to get to, which is exactly why I want to go. There are no roads to Tortuergo — a National Park in the Limon Province — which means you need to take a plane or boat to get there. (I’ll choose the latter.) There are canal tours, turtle museums, jungle strolls, and more. The best part is even though January is “peak season” for Costa Rica, it’s “off-peak” for Tortuguero, since turtle hatching season is from July through October. I’m banking on things being a liiiittle less crowded/cheaper. Plus, I’ve already seen the little turtles do their “being born” thing in Ghana.

Sooo that’s what I have so far! And even though I have a basic idea of where I want to go, I totally know it could change within a heartbeat. I may meet a bunch of backpackers my first night and follow suit. Or a local could tell me I have it all wrong and suggest other places to go. I honestly can’t really picture what this trip will look like, which is what makes it that much more exciting.

Oh! And if anyone was wondering about my marathon training while I’m away..I am 100 percent completely not sticking to my plan while traveling. If this somehow screws up my sub3:30 goal, then so be it (although I doubt it will). Between hiking, swimming, yoga, and maaaybe the seven push-ups I’ll do, I think my fitness will survive (: 

Welp, it’s time. After running my first marathon, almost running nycm, getting hurt, taking a month off, falling more in love with yoga, and slowly but surely finding my way back on the roads, tomorrow begins my 16 week journey to Eugene. This is the first time I’m actually going to stick to a plan. With hindsight, I realized that even though I snuck in some decently long runs before my first marathon (a 16 and 22 miler), my overall mileage was way too low. And when mile 20 rolled around during Wineglass, I was greeted with “the wall” that was more like “see, thiissss is what happens when you don’t train properly for a marathon.” 

My running plan is all thanks to Jason Fitzgerald, the guy behind Strength Running. I wanted his help because of his emphasis on (you guessed it!) strength training for runners. He ‘s also big into injury prevent (awesome), science and running theory (good for the brain), aaaand he’s a 2:39 marathoner. Clearly his tactics are working. (I used this personalized race plan.)

I only function because of duct tape

 

What I love about the plan is that it’s going to challenge the hell out of me. It’s not impossible, and it’s flexible. But… it’s hard. I’ll be forced to get in the habit of warming up and cooling down and doing routines that will help with injury prevention. I’ll be told when to do long runs (they happen every weekend, not only twice, Laur) and when to do speed work. My weekly mileage starts at 32 and peaks at 48, which I think is extremely doable. 

It goes without saying I’m a bit nervous though. First of all, I’ve never committed to something for 16 weeks. That’s long. (Way longer than, say, a marathon…) And secondly, I’m feeling all wimpy with this blustering, windy NYC weather. I usually love the cold, but realized that was in the context of being bundled up, next to a fire, or simply devoid of sweat on a subway platform. 20 degree winds smacking at your face is less than pleasant. Waiting for your garmin to get signal when it’s freezing out sucks. But…I’m hoping (and maybe assuming?) that I’ll get used to it. The longer days of sunlight will start kicking in, and it will have to get warmer. Or I’ll just toughen up.

Time, though, is what I’m scared about most. No longer can I slot 45 minutes in the morning for a run. (I literally hop out of bed, hop onto the streets, hop in the shower, and then hop on the subway.) Until the sun starts significantly setting later, I’ll be training in the morning. To make sure I properly warm up and cool down, do core, strength work, and stretch, I’ll be getting up a biiiiiiit earlier than I’m used to. Again, I hope I just get used to it. Or invent a way to add a few hours to the day.

But, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t want to. This is a commitment I’m devoted to, and one that I’m incredibly excited about.  I’m so curious how legit training for a marathon will change me as an athlete. I think I have a lot of room to improve, and I’m hoping there’s some secret speed I haven’t unlocked yet. And…. maybe this is my ticket to reaching a new level in the running world.

So with that… sub 3:30 or bust. (!!!)