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Change Of Address
Oh you thought you were sick of my sunrise photos before?
Well I have a new home, and now I wake up to this:
I’m a little bit obsessed. Waking up is fun!
So, I moved this weekend. I’m all Cloud Niney today, which is a term used to describe “happiness and also a lack of sleep.” I know because I looked it up in the dictionary of real words.
Let me take you back to the beginning — Friday night — because that’s where all good stories start, and obviously a story about how I moved from one apartment to another is groundbreaking. No one has ever done that before. Except me. So I’ll tell you how it was done.
I took a half day on Friday, which was a great idea. I packed up the last of my crap and did very important things, like ordered macaroni and cheese for dinner and cleared the last of the recorded stuff off my DVR.
I watched my recorded coverage of the New York City Marathon and realized just how much the year I spent in my apartment living alone revolved around running and marathon training. I kind of love that. I got a little nostalgic watching the marathon, and had actually forgotten that the Run For The Rabbit commercials aired about a billion times throughout the “show.”
I thought I might feel sad about my last night in my apartment, but I really didn’t. The closest I came to crying all weekend was when Brian suggested I get a new toaster that isn’t the size of a baby elephant. Rude. Also, it’s kind of broken and from 1992. But still, rude.
I went to bed Friday night feeling happy about the time I spent in my living space but so ready for what was next: moving day!
In fact, I woke up at 4:50 AM Saturday because I was, literally, too excited to sleep.
And when you’re too excited to sleep but your entire apartment is packed, you do the obvious thing: sign up for a 6:30 AM SoulCycle class.
It was a great way to kick off moving day, and I liked taking one last stroll down my street.
I sweat like a crazy person during class and then rushed back home to shower before the movers arrived.
Along the way I said goodbye to things, like the place where I was supposed to throw out my trash…
…and the place where I actually threw out my trash.
And then I packed up the very last of my things, like the food from my refrigerator, my comforter and my wet shower towels, in a box marked “unpacked immediately or things will start to smell.”
I’m really good at labeling boxes in a specific way.
I’m apparently not good at packing, though, which I was reminded of all throughout the day.
The entire move went really smoothly. Hiring movers is the best thing you can do in NYC, I assure you. They made everything go quickly and efficiently, and I am a big fan of efficiency. You know this by now.
I would say that I was “moderately helpful” during the move. I did things like offer Starburst (it was 9 AM) and hula hooped, you know, for entertainment purposes.
A few moving tips for you:
- Pack in boxes. Just do it. You may think that throwing your stuff in open top bags is convenient for you, but really, it’s going to get tossed around in a truck. Just get the boxes. Get them at Home Depot. They’re cheap there.
- If you own dumbbells, maybe just carry them to the new place yourself. I decided to pack mine in a box, and one of the movers looked at me like I was a moron and said, “Oh good, you packed the 10-pound dumbbells in here. Great!” He was my favorite, but I don’t think that I, in return, was his favorite.
- Offer the movers bottled water and they’ll like you. Offer three movers a single bottle to share and they won’t like you at all.
- Have scissors handy all day. The best thing I did was keep a pair of scissors in my bag and/or my hands at all times.
- No, your boyfriend doesn’t want to wear matching “moving outfits.” You can ask, but you will get a blank stare or eye roll in return. Make sure he has legally signed the lease before you ask this question.
- Stay out of the way. No one wants to try your Shake Weight. People are busy doing actual work.
And then, my apartment was empty — except for, you know, every single piece of furniture that I owned and don’t want anymore — and it was off to the new address a few blocks north.
The best part of the day was walking into the empty new apartment and thinking, “This is my new home.”
The next thought was, “Holy crap, how are we going to fit everything in here?”
So you know how moving goes: The movers loaded up the freight elevator — elevator building! upgrade! — and then started bringing the boxes into the apartment. As soon as a box came in, Brian and I busted it open and started unpacking. Again with the efficiency.
Eventually everything was in, everything fit, and I was so friggin’ tired. The great news is that Brian and I have very similar styles and tastes, and we both like clutter-free living. So setting everything up was easy and we were both very agreeable.
Brian says I am a “hoarder.” I do not agree. He looked at my closet — “my closet” somehow turned into me taking over all three closets, oops — and noticed that, “I’ve never seen you wear any of those things.”
My excuse for owning a lot of clothing is that I like to look nice for him, you know, if we go on a date or to a water park or something.
His response was something along the lines of, “only wearing workout clothes all the time anyway.”
I don’t know. I had stopped listening at that point.
So, Brian, you may call me a “hoarder” because I own 16 spatulas, four sets of sheets that don’t fit our bed and at least 12 shirts with the tags still on, but I say I’m simply a hoarder of memories. You can try to argue that, but you will not win.
Also we have plans tonight to “go through some of my stuff” and “see if there’s anything we can get rid of and/or consolidate.” I’m really looking forward to it.
We unpacked right up until about 4 PM, at which point Brian realized he hadn’t done his long training ride for the day. He was sleepy. So I got all Coach Ali on him and was like, “Yeah, you can nap, or you can get your ass on that fancy bike of yours and go ride for two hours. That will wake you up better than 45 minutes of being horizontal! Go go go!”
Translation: “Brian I’m going to go rent a bike, can I come ride with you?!”
And so we did.
We took a two-hour packing break and I went for my longest bike ride ever: 30 miles!!!
This ride was amazing and I’m officially hooked on biking. I felt so strong the entire time and, according to Brian, I kept up just fine.
OK well there was one point where we had to go up this really really steep, winding hill, and I pushed down with one foot and kind of just tipped over, and then ran my bike up the rest of the hill. Totally fine. I’m sure that happens to everyone.
Seriously though, this was a great way to break up the day and despite the fact that Central Park was a mess and I almost ran over several small children (WHERE ARE YOUR PARENTS?), it was a wonderful time.
And then we unpacked more, ordered Chinese food, drank great wine and passed out by 11 PM.
I’d say so.
But on Sunday, I was too excited to sleep again!
Also my allergies were ruining my life, but I was pretty psyched to wake up in the new apartment with the new views and the new everything.
And what do people do the day after moving and not sleeping and going for a 30-mile bike ride?
They go running.
I wanted to do a long run — specifically, 15 miles, because it was April 15.
Just kidding. I didn’t realize that coincidence until today. Dang it.
But I did want to do a long run, so I suited up and set out for Central Park.
Fun fact about the new apartment: It’s all uphill to the park. And not a little gradual climb, a bitch of a hill that is entirely unavoidable. So I guess…built-in hill training from now until forever? Excellent! I can feel my husky legs getting huskier. Bring it on.
My expectations for this run were very low. I’m coming off a week of many workouts and not much sleep, plus I’m still nursing a bit of the shin pain, so I didn’t want to go too crazy. I told myself that if it hurt, I’d stop. No sense in going crazy and potentially hurting myself…more.
I started running alongside the MORE/Fitness Half Marathon, which was lots of fun. I kind of half-cheered for the runners as I was alongside them, but I was also focused on staying out of their way and out of the way of the bikers on my other side and basically my goal was not to die.
As for the 15 miles?
Meh. They were OK. I started out too fast, naturally, because I am trying to really lock down my title of Queen of Positive Splitting. But really, I started with the race, so I was fired up and having fun, and I knew I’d slow down eventually, which I was OK with.
Let’s talk about miles 13 and 14 shall we? At this point, I was on the west side — not near where I live — and started to feel super tired. Remember those 30 miles the day before? Yeah, those weren’t doing me any favors at this point. I told myself I could call these “cool-down miles,” and I ran up on the Bridle Path. But really, I was just fatigued, so I slowed down for a little while.
But then I had one mile to go, so I picked it back up slightly and then I was back home! At the new apartment! Where I cooled down up on the roof!
I really should have spent the rest of the day being as lazy as possible, but instead I went to Bed, Bath & Beyond (fell asleep on the bus getting there — oops), unpacked almost everything, did my first grocery shop with a big kitchen to return to, and then Brian and I had friends over for dinner last night.
And then I slept for five hours.
And then I did a little shakeout run this morning.
It was slow. It was 7.35 miles — a stupid distance, because I haven’t quite figured out a sensible, even-numbered route yet — and it was perfect.
I have no complaints today.
OK I guess just one: I’m not in Boston cheering on all my crazy runners friends out dominating the Boston Marathon. GOOD LUCK to all of you out there! Race hard, run happy, finish strong, hydrate. That’s marathon advice from an expert right there.
Happy Monday, everyone! Cheers to a great week ahead!