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Posts from the ‘New York’ Category


The Joy of Failure

I gained 2 pounds since my last weigh in seven days ago. Previously this would be categorized as a #fail. An epic #fail given the amount of time, heart and money I have spent on my weight loss goal. However, what happens after we “fail” is just as important as the fact that we did, even more so. Today, approximately 127 seconds after stepping off the scale I was sitting in  a contraption reminiscent of medieval times pressing more weight than I had thought humanly possible without your uterus falling out between your legs and onto the gym floor. A short time after that, I listened to the counsel of a maniac (or angel) celverly disguised as a trainer who then had me push a 45-pound-weight-in-a-box “toy” down what seemed to be an 1000-foot-long hallway. And so on. I failed at continuing to lose weight. I failed at not gaining weight lost. But today, ultimately, the victory was mine. Today, faced with failure I did not stop to CONTINUE to fail. I went in the other direction. I listed and recognized some things that needed to change and moved on — literally.  It’s OK to fail. It’s not OK to give yourself permission to BE a failure.

Bless you, @SisterMary

SisterMary and Trainer Kenneth Yim in May 2011

SisterMary in December 2010 Posing for Pageant Photos


When Life Gives You “Pause”….

Approximately 45 days from today, assuming I survive, I will reach a quirky little milestone called menopause: by definition, the 12th month after a final menstruation. A harsh and bloody farewell to fertility. No more eggs. No longer the possibility of humans emerging from my body.

Been there. Done two.

Should I look forward to this final phase of my life? Or should this be a time for, well, “pausing”. A dressed rehearsal for the inevitable pause that is death.

It seems that I am indeed, much to my surprise and perhaps because I am now faced with my own fading, an optimistic contrarian. Instead of pausing, I want to hit Fast Forward, Full Steam Ahead, Warp Drive.

“Pausing” does not excite me. Movement does. 

I have always been seduced by movement: whether those of the quick-firing neurons residing in deliciously smart boys or those of gently flowing but equally strong ballerinas. So, after putting away the paraphernalia of fertility, and shedding the palpable thoughts of old loves, I booked a one-way ticket to a new me. In March, I moved from the ever sensual Sunshine State to rough-around-the-edges Hell’s Kitchen, New York City’s Upper West Side.

The set for my new adventure comes complete with:

  • An apartment the size of a large designer handbag and equally as overpriced
  • An evil fitness trainer who has my body hurting in ways my exes never could and to the delight of my aging doctors is rescuing me from a lifetime of poor culinary decisions
  • Uber techie buddies who have no qualms about pointing out my online snafus but never ever hesitate to inspire, educate and retweet
  • A landlady who “does lunch” with the Dalai Lama
  • Real-life angels who gave me quick NYC survival lessons upon arrival: never stop walking; when it’s 3 a.m., it’s still New York City, no matter what you saw on Sex And the City; don’t wear heels in the snow (I really did this. Yeah.)

The overarching theme is to turn my “impossible” into “possible”:

  • Lose 100 lbs (Already said goodbye to 50) 
  • Give a TED talk (OK, several TED talks)
  • Using social media, implement a self-esteem program for young women (communications is both my passion and livelihood)
  • Finish that book (I promise you will love the part about the former pastor and the Las Vegas strip club)
  • Learn to sing well (there’s only so much that good drama can do for a bad voice)
  • Win another pageant (yes, you read that correctly; I love shiny things)
  • Make new friends (the kind you share a cigar with, not simply click on)
  • And yes, fall in love again (perhaps I should renew my JDate membership sooner rather than later)

I can’t do this alone. Join me. Share your journey. Inspire me. Challenge me. Keep me honest. And, if you know a nice single “creatively young” man, ping me.

Bless you, @SisterMary