Makeup or Bust ...

I’m going to be 26 soon… Give me a little more than a month and I will be 26. See ya later 25. Suddenly, all those things I wanted to do this year are creeping up on me and you know the one that sticks out the most, right now? The promise I made to myself: 

“Before you are 26 you’ll learn to put on makeup.”
Like real application, you know, the kind that looks just like your face only slightly enhanced for the perfect photo and candid pic people seem to be endlessly taking. Oh to dream...Right now, I'm makeup illiterate.
Here's what happened: Before my 25th birthday my roommate at the time pointed out a giant faux pas of my makeup routine: I was doing it all wrong. I only wear eyeliner on my lower lid and mascara. It was easy to apply, an inexpensive routine, and it seemed to satisfy my quell of wearing makeup and walking into the world with “my face on.”
 So as I'm getting dressed for my party, my roommate tells me “you know, you’re suppose to wear eyeliner on your top lid…helps bring out your eyes. You only use the bottom lid for smoky eye and going out, not for daytime natural…” Hello, earth-shattering news.
I was proud of myself for making this very grown up thing happen all on my own– but when she mentioned the error of my makeup ways, might as well jam the mascara brush in my eye! She spent like an hour putting on makeup and all I had to do was smooth on a little bit of my eyewear… I waited in her room admiring the technique and then I got the awkward question “didn’t your mom ever teach you?”
"Nope" I replied, “oh, she died when I was little.”
It's not that I'm shy about my history, but it's one of those things about my life that I try to keep covered so the blemishes don't show through. Since I was so young when my mom passed, it became one of those things that as I got older I had that pang of missing her less and less, until nights like this one when I asked myself what if… Case and point...what if she would’ve taught me how to wear makeup?

So I sat there, feeling slightly robbed of a feminine rite of passage and embarrassed about showing a scar that's normally covered. I can't change what happened oh, so many years ago, but I can change what I do with it, thus the promise... 
The absence of a mom is to me my natural foundation, it's there on my face for the world to see - a glimpse at someone who once was. I just want to make sure I learn enough about this to pass it along...so that if I ever have a daughter she gets a chance to remember me every day, when she goes to put on her makeup.

Oh how far you will go...

A marathon is my limit, but what can you honestly say is yours? Running is one of those things our bodies naturally excel in. It's one of our basic reactions to fear or trouble - fight or flight. A long distance race is nothing more than a flight from the fear of failing.  It's a strange dynamic I think, but it's one that I love. This weekend I finished my fourth marathon and I have to say this was my favorite so far and was one of those runs where I finished and thought, "this is why I do this." So what did I learn this year?

Run the race in thirds: the first third with your legs, the second with your mind and the third with your heart. 

With this in mind, this is a recap my run:

The first with my legs: 0-9miles
I started the run - of course - having to go to the bathroom. My biggest fear this race was having to stop and missing minutes towards my goal. So what happens mile 4 : I can't hold it. Do I just let it go? Fall into the categories of runners who pee on themselves? No. I can't bring myself to do it -- sacrifice your body is one thing, running 22 miles in your own pee -- quite another... So I stop at a port-a-potty with a short line. A girl is waiting, I ask her how long her friend will be and she informs me that she doesn't have to go. So glancing at my watch every 2 milliseconds, I'm pacing out of anxiety and distraction to prevent from peeing - then her friend comes out and her friend goes "well I'm here now, might as well".... Fuming staring at my watch contemplating publicly relieving myself I start to panic, my pace group is out of sight, 4:40 pace group draws near. I pace even more and two and a half minutes later she finally emerges... Sweet. 2.5 minutes I have to make up. So because this is the part of the race I use my legs, I do just that - I finish my business and sprint to catch up with the 4:25 pace group -- Mile 6 I'm back in the race.

The second leg with your head: 9-18
The middle miles are always the hardest, after 13 miles no one is really cheering you on and you start to notice the nuances of the natural group that forms around you running your pace. I had the church group behind me praying the rosary for 2 miles (one involving a hill); I had the man running in a suit, I had the woman presumably coughing up a hairball. I had to play this one smart otherwise this was going to drive me crazy. So I told myself: "run for 2 minutes hard and take 2 minutes to stride." If you know me I made up a song to the beat of my pace "push, push, push for two more minutes --" counting down until I was at 15 seconds, then I counted the seconds." Very distracted and currently oblivious of my surroundings (except for the hacking because I'll be damned if I get spit on) I pressed on saw mile 18 come and go and I'm in the home stretch.

The third leg with your heart: 18-26.2
Now, you get to mile 18 and you think GREAT I have under double digits to go. And then it registers ... uh I have 8 miles to go. Mile 22 I slow for water and in an unprecedented move I bring my leg up for a high knee stretch. The sheer pain that struck my body at that moment was enough for me to cry, but I had 4 miles left and I was NOT stopping and for sure wasn't going to go down for a leg cramp! So I kept going and pulled a move only saved for this last set - I picked a guy someone I knew would give me a challenge and it was a race to the finish.
Happily hearing my name as I sprinted (yes I did!!) across the finish - my amazing boyfriend was there waiting ready to hug me in probably my most sweaty state :)

So I've divulged some secrets here that worked for me - that day I ran my personal best clocking a 4:24. A marathon is my limit, but my goals are without boundaries.
So how far will YOU go? Everyone has their limits, but this question is one of will not of ability.

How to Practice Safe Walking

It's a common belief that someone can be street smart, but not book smart or vice versa, but never both at the same time. I'm trying to disprove this common perception. First method is to impart my knowledge of safe walking, something I've learned. Unlike book smarts, street smarts never seem to be imparted on others, it's like a secret - something you can only learn through experience. Well I don't want you to have to learn the hard way about street smarts in the city, so here is my wisdom.
You have to remember I grew up in Ohio- Shaker, Ohio for that matter. Next to nothing happened without you bringing it on yourself; it's one of those towns that has rare sensational news (excluding the weather). So, growing up in Ohio the idea of "know your surroundings" could mean - be aware of deer crossing (if you see one, there are more, deer travel in packs). Or if you are taking the trash out late at night there could be skunks, coyotes, foxes?! In New York, being aware of your surroundings means something totally different: know which car the sketched out crack head is entering to avoid inevitable harassment on your commute, avoid the crack head lingering on the corner begging for change he might bump you and either transfer bed bugs or pick-pocket you, avoid the half way house because if that's not self explanatory there are probably crack heads there. Maybe the biggest challenge of being aware is knowing where the crack heads live and then out smarting them with avoidance or my new technique....

WAIT FOR IT

If you are walking alone and feeling a little unnerved begin talking to yourself that will send a message of "this one is crazy." This employs the strategy, if you can't beat 'em join 'em. The other day I began erratically talking to myself about a made-up friend Samson and laughing hysterically at my own jokes. Now, the crazy vibe you have to send has to be enough to permeate someone who's high, but not enough to look fake or vulnerable. You don't want "oh that one is special this will be easy" you want "holy smokes, I don't want to even know..." This will not work if you have head phones in, your conversation cannot sound systematic, it has to sound completely irrational, yet plausible. Make sense?
Wish I could patent* this technique, but instead I'll pass along as one of my helpful tips to surviving the city. I think this can work for anyone implemented correctly, coupled with these simple street smarts:

1. Don't walk down dark alleys
2. Carry mace
3. Don't look drunk if you are in fact walking home intoxicated (aka walk straight)
4. Run towards the police station - in NYC there's likely one within running distance
5. Most crack heads are off balance, last case scenario go for the shins
6. Don't forget your life is more important than valuables
7. Cross the street if you feel like you should - go with your gut
8. Don't walk in your house or apt if you think someone is following you
9. Make good choices

*Also cannot patent, because it was a helpful tip as down.