Begin (and End) As You Mean To Go On

I don't remember how old I was, but I remember that it was New Years Day and it was snowing, and I was sitting on my parents' bed as they layered up and got ready for a run.

It was freezing outside, and they had just run the day before. I was confused because they didn't usually run two days in a row. I wasn't a runner yet, but both of my parents were. My dad had already run marathons and my mom was just a few years away from her first one. I didn't quite understand the draw of that kind of exercise, but I knew that they loved running and especially loved running together.

Before they headed out I asked why the second run in two days, and my dad said something I will always remember:

"Always end the year with a run, and begin the year with a run."

It would be quite a few more years before I became a runner myself, but once I did, I found myself repeating that mantra as each year drew to a close and a new year began. And even though I, too, rarely run two days in a row, I always find myself lacing up my sneakers in the morning on New Years Eve and again on New Years Day.

I have never been one for new years resolutions; for promising to do things I would most likely never do. But these annual runs are the closest I get. They are a small promise to myself that I am ending a year and starting a year as I mean to go on. As a runner.

And this year was no different. This morning I hit the road for my first run of the year, my second in as many days. I layered up against the frigid air, and as my muscles warmed into their familiar rhythm I felt a sense of pride in what I have trained myself to do these past few years. I had the streets to myself, and I found myself thinking of all the 2012 runs that have passed, and all the 2013 runs still to come.

Always end the year with a run and begin the year with a run.

Check.

                           

                                     New Years Day Run

              

                   Post New Years Run Latte

2012: A Year in Review

New Years Eve.

I have spent some time these past few days reading through my blog archives from the past eleven months, trying to find a way to sum up the past year. And I have spent some time reading other bloggers' end of year posts trying to find some inspiration. Some people were posting their favorite blog posts by month. Some were listing all the books they read, or the places they traveled, or their favorite songs. But none of those felt quite right to me, so I decided to do a little bit of everything. Because, well, I am a woman of many interests, and because for me, 2012 included a little bit of everything. And more.

In January I turned 29. My birthday was on a Wednesday, but I celebrated on Saturday night with dinner and my best friends. It felt a little weird to turn 29. Like I should be focused on the fact that this was the last birthday that would have a 2 in front of it, and that 30 was looming in the distance. But I wasn't focused on that. Instead I was focused on the people around me, and how lucky I was to be living this life with them, at any age. And in January I started training for my first half-marathon. I had been running for awhile, and it was time to kick it up. For four months Central Park became my second home, as I circled its loops four times a week and counted the days until the race.

In February I started this blog. It was February 10th. A Friday. It was raw and rainy outside, and I got an idea. An idea for something I wanted to say. I wanted to write about the books I love, and the people I love, and after I wrote my very first sentence of my very first post, the ideas just flowed. And over the past eleven months my blog has taken on a bit of a different flavor, but I am so proud of it, and will be forever grateful for that first spark of inspiration on an otherwise ordinary day.

In March D and I started talking about moving. About leaving our apartment in New York City and venturing out to parts unknown. About buying a house and another car and becoming suburbanites. We looked at our first couple of houses, and thought how it would probably take months and months to find the right one for us. I fumed over the rhetoric about abortion and contraception coming from the federal and state governments, and took to my blog to express my outrage. And in March we boarded a plane late on a Saturday night and flew to Israel for a 10 day vacation on the beaches of Tel Aviv. And in a Tel Aviv mall I discovered that Israeli women love romance novels too, and my heart sang.

In April I spent the last days of Passover in Pittsburgh surrounded by family. I battled a running injury I thought might keep me out of the half marathon that was a mere four weeks away, and we made our first offer on a house we loved, but walked away after a week-long bidding war. And in April I read Nora Roberts' new book The Witness, fell instantly in love with the premier of Shonda Rhimes' new show Scandal, and bid farewell to One Tree Hill, a show that I had been watching since its premier my junior year in high school.

In May I went back to Pittsburgh to run the race. It was an unseasonably hot day that felt more like the end of July than the beginning of May. For three hours I joined thousands of other people to run the streets of the city I love. And there were some dicey miles, but I finished strong. It was my biggest accomplishment to date. And in May I read Nora Roberts' The Last Boyfriend, the incredible book Quiet by Susan Cain, and the less than incredible Fifty Shades of Gray trilogy.

In June we went to see the house that would ultimately be ours. The first time we saw it I couldn't see the potential, but D did, and twenty-four hours of negotiations later, the contracts were being drawn up, and plans were being made, and I started thinking about what it would feel like to live somewhere that wasn't Manhattan. I discovered Bunheads, a new TV show by the creator of Gilmore Girls, one of my favorite shows of all time, and spent some happy Monday nights with the quirky characters of Paradise, CA. And I stayed up until 4am one night just to finish Gillian Flynn's incomparable thriller Gone Girl.

In July we flew to Cleveland for the weekend to visit my sister and brother-in-law and to smother my little niece with love and presents, and I started the torturous process of applying for a mortgage. I watched in horror with the rest of the nation as news broke of a gunman inside a movie theater in Colorado, and I watched with excitement and glee as the Queen of England declared the Games of the 30th Olympiad open. I watched hours and hours of Olympics, and managed to make some time for the miniseries Political Animals, and the delicious debauchery of Bachelor Pad.

In August I suffered from a post-Olympics hangover and entered my very first blogging competition. I was approved for a mortgage. I watched the Republican National Convention and struggled with how I, a pro-choice, pro-marriage equality Republican, could fit into this modern incarnation of the Party. And in August we found out there was an open permit on our house and that our closing would be delayed, and traded a million e-mails with our lawyer and our mortgage company trying to get it sorted out.

In September we took a late night drive to the Jersey Shore to celebrate Labor Day Weekend and I spent a day looking back eleven years. We celebrated the Jewish holidays, and I wrote my first piece of fiction. We closed on our new house, and I started writing about the nostalgia I felt for leaving the home I had known for more than seven years. The twenty-one TV shows that I watch on a regular basis came back from their summer hiatuses, and my DVR was once again filled to capacity.

In October we celebrated our two year wedding anniversary with dinner and dessert on our living room couch. I started counting down to my last run in Central Park, and started thinking about packing boxes, and whether our cable would be hooked up in time so I didn't miss any of my shows. I wrote a post I love about the female vote, and I took my last Central Park run (or so I thought). And in October our move to the new house was delayed by three days as New York City was devastated by Hurricane Sandy and her aftermath.

In November I took my actual last run in Central Park, we moved into our new house and commenced six weeks without a kitchen as our construction was finished, and I entered a challenge to blog every day of the month. The third book in Nora Roberts' Boonsboro Inn trilogy was released, and it saved my sanity during our first real weekend in our house. D built our kitchen cabinets, I started learning the streets of our new neighborhood, and I saw camels on 51st Street on my way to work. I spent Thanksgiving with my family in Pittsburgh, and I celebrated with my best friend when she got engaged. I finally unpacked my romance novel collection, and spent some serious quality time on my new couch in front of the TV.

In December I got my first blogging award, and saw those camels again. The construction on our house finally came to an end, and I started cooking in my brand new kitchen. My heart broke for the Sandy Hook community as they struggled to make sense out of a tragedy, and I grieved alongside one of the families as they laid their little boy to rest. I finally got my running mojo back, and spent a cozy night in our new home in front of the fireplace.

What a year indeed.

Happy New Year.

Here's to 2013.

Metro North Commuters Don't Do Coffee Spills

As most of you probably know, about two months ago I moved to the suburbs and now commute to Manhattan for work every day via Metro North Railroad. And after the past two months, I have the commute down to a science, and have even started to really enjoy the 31 minute ride and the time it gives me to zone out, read a few chapters, or brainstorm blog ideas. I don't think it is an accident that I feel like I have really hit my stride on this blog since I moved to White Plains.

Needless to say, my Metro North commute is far different than the NYC Subway commute that I did for the seven and a half years I lived in Manhattan. For the past couple of weeks I have been considering a blog post listing all the different ways commuting from Westchester is more civilized and humane than commuting on the Subway (like, for example, alcohol is allowed on Metro North, and there are even little kiosks in Grand Central that helpfully sell beer and mixed drinks at a discount to Westchester commuters). I was planning on posting some sort of top ten list, and was waiting until I had enough information stored away to make you all understand just how different these two commuting experiences are.

Well. This morning I saw something - just one thing - on the train that encapsulates the entire difference between Metro North and the Subway. A top ten list is no longer necessary. My list is now exactly one item long.

As the train was pulling away from White Plains this morning, a man sitting a few rows in front of me put his cup of coffee on the floor while he took off his jacket (oh, did I mention that Metro North kindly provides hooks at every seat on which to hang one's jacket?). When he was sitting back down he misjudged his footing, and accidentally knocked over said coffee cup, spilling its contents onto the floor. The velocity of the train caused the spilled coffee to stream from its point of origin, and head towards the feet of the people across the aisle.

Now. I noticed all of this with about half of my brain. Not because I was tired or anything, but because I am a former Subway commuter. During my seven-plus years on the Subway, nary a day went by where I wasn't dodging some mysterious liquid or food-stuff that ended up on the floor of the Subway car. Once I even had an entire cup of coffee dumped on my spotless white shirt by some reckless fellow passenger. Subway riders are always holding far more than they can reasonably carry, and for some reason they think adding a cup of steaming hot liquid is an excellent idea. Accidents ensue. On the Subway, no one bats an eye when there is coffee on the floor, or when empty bags of chips get stuck to your shoe by chewed gum, or when there are giant rats scampering up and down the tracks. That kind of mess is just the price of doing business.

Being used to that kind of daily disorder on my morning commute, this coffee accident harmless in comparison, and I turned my attention back to my book.

Well, I may have dismissed this morning's coffee accident as harmless, even as it was happening, but not so for my fellow Metro North commuters. As the poor man put his coffee cup on the floor, the man across the aisle was eyeing the cup like a hawk. And when it spilled, and was basically ignored by its owner, the man across the aisle went out of his ever-loving mind. He immediately sprang into action, rallying fellow passengers for napkins to clean up the mess, while giving the owner of the coffee cup the evil eye. If looks could kill, I'm telling you. He alerted everyone in the vicinity to pick up their feet, and to take their bags and purses off the floor, lest they be attacked by the errant streams of coffee. Apparently, Westchester commuters just don't do coffee spills on the way to work.

And as I flipped through my mental files of the past two months, it occurred to me that this was the very first spill of any kind I have seen on my morning train, and that I have never, ever seen trash on the floor of my Metro North cars.

Toto, I don't think we are are on the Subway anymore.

After the Snow

View from the train platform, after last night's snow.

I love the way the world looks in the wintertime. 

Grey skies, snow dusting the grass, bare trees, and silent streets.

Top Six Reasons It's Not Bad to Work The Week Between Christmas and New Years

8:30am: Empty City Streets

I mean, I obviously wish that I wasn't working today. That I was home laying on the couch in sweat pants like I have been the past three days. But alas, here I am in my office. In the four years that I have been working I have always been in the office for the days between Christmas and New Years. I have to miss a lot of work in September and October for all of the Jewish holidays, and the people I work with really pick up the slack for me. So, since I don't celebrate Christmas, I always feel like it is only fair for me to be in the office this week, when most of my colleagues are on vacation.

But working this week isn't all bad. So here, for your reading satisfaction, are the top six reasons why I like working the week between Christmas and New Years:

6. Empty parking lots - To get to work, I drive my car to the train station and park it in a lot near the platform. Normally to get the first spot closest to the platform, one would have to get to the lot at six in the morning. I usually get there closer to eight, leaving me with a bit of a walk. But this morning, with most of the White Plains commuters still asleep, I got the first spot in the lot.

5. Empty trains - Unlike the Subway, which was my commuting method for the seven-plus years I lived in Manhattan, commuting via Metro North from Westchester is actually a pretty delightful experience. People are much calmer, and with enough seats for everyone, you are far less likely to spend your morning commute with someone's elbow jabbing into your side, or with your face smushed up against a fellow commuter's back. But there are still seats on Metro North that are more preferred than others, and they are really hard to get. Leaving from White Plains, which is a commuting hub in lower Westchester, I rarely ever get one of them. But this morning, with a mostly empty train, I had my pick of the best seats in the car.

4. Quiet office - There are approximately seven people working on my floor this week. It's super quiet. Quiet is good.

3. Quiet clients - Most of my clients are away this week, as are most of the bankers and trust companies that I deal with on a day-to-day basis. While this month has been my busiest December since I started my career as a Trusts & Estates lawyer (thanks, Congress and Mr. President for your complete inability to come to any kind of rational compromise about tax rates, leaving my clients uncertain. Uncertainty breeds fear. This is not news), this week is shaping up to be pretty quiet with most of my clients either on vacation or hunkered down with their families, so it leaves me ample time to accomplish the tasks I haven't been able to get to since December began.

2. The New York City streets are empty (at least today) - While by weeks end the streets will be crowded once again in anticipation of New Year's Eve, for today at least, the streets are blessedly empty. I know that by the time I make my way to the train tonight the crowds will be back in full force, taking advantage of the post-Christmas sales along Fifth Avenue, this morning when I was walking to work, most of the tourists seemed to still be sleeping off yesterday's festivities, making the walk a pleasure rather than the usual game of Survivor.

1. No line for coffee - Getting coffee in Manhattan on a weekday morning can really be a survival of the fittest situation. You have to be alert, guard your place in line with your life, and know exactly what you want before your turn at the register comes, lest you be subject to ridicule by your fellow caffeine junkies. But this morning, I walked into Dunkin' Donuts and went straight to the counter. No line, no wait, and no Banker-types making exasperated sighing noises just because they have to wait in line for more than fifteen seconds.

Anyone else working today, or am I the only one? What's good about your workdays this week?

Cozy Night

I don't celebrate Christmas, but neither do I do the traditional Jewish-person-on-Christmas-Eve movie and Chinese food. This is a perfectly delightful way to spend an evening, but just not the way I choose to spend December 24th. Even though Christmas is not my holiday, there is something cozy and still about Christmas Eve, and I have always loved staying at home to sink into all that calm. 

So last night. Last night we decided to stay home. A pile of blankets and pillows, pizza, ice cream, three movies, and a fire in our new fireplace made for an absolutely perfect evening.

And as an added bonus, our front yard was covered in snow. 

View from my front door.

Happy holidays to those of you celebrating today. 

Hope you had an equally cozy and family-filled night.