Spin Cycle

I have started taking a spin class. With Joe. At 6am. Which means I have to get up when he gets up. At 5.30am. Now, while I'm not a morning person, and as I type I am falling asleep on the keyboard for lack of coffee, I had a bit of an epiphany this morning. One of the guys in class asked me as I was headed out the door, "so you like spin class?" I thought for a moment and then said, "I guess I'm sadistic, yes. I like spin class." Part of the reason is that the teacher is great. He talks smack throughout most of the class, and the students throw it right back. There's a dentist that has been at the gym I think as long as Joe and I have (2 years or so..) and he's always been cordial to me when he sees me, despite my lack of 'morning person-ness'. The past 2 classes, he's been on the bike next to me and has been playing around with what to nickname me. He had been calling me Early Valentines Day, and Roses since I told them Joe had already gotten me roses, not for Valentines day, just because he loves me. (ok now, group 'awwwwww' and then turn and puke...) But today, towards the end of class, he started calling me 'the First Lady of Spin Class' as in, 'come on, First Lady, crank it up one' and 'it's ok now, if the First Lady wants to rest, she can rest.' It made me smile. So today, as I was getting ready to come into work, I found myself looking in the mirror differently. My weight may not be where I'd like it to be, but I'm getting into shape. And I had been babying my leg ever since the incident with the mountain...(I was skiing along just fine and then the mountain had to go and get in the way. Stupid mountain. We're still not on speaking terms.) But I can feel it getting stronger. The triathlon is in September, and I am considering running a half marathon with some friends in October. Those were things I had wanted to do before "THE INCIDENT", but never did. Time for excuses is over. Time for waiting is over. Spin class is only 2 days a week, but I will get up and I will go to it, and the First Lady will ride!!

Home, Strange Home

So Steve has a way of reminding me where I'm from... in a good way. As you've read below (because I'm sure you've read all my posts, right?? You have, haven't you?? Come on, humor me...) I've been reading Prodigal God by Tim Keller. I'm in the section where the concept of 'home' really hits home.... Mr. Keller's point in the section I'm reading right now is that no matter what we think of as 'home', our memories can never be achieved, and even were we to go back in time to the actual occurrence of those memories, even that would be a shadow of the feeling. He posits this because as humans, we were made for fellowship with God, and our home was the Garden of Eden. Or more importantly, where God was. He poses the thought that we will never again feel that satisfying 'home' feeling until we are with God. Now, while I wholeheartedly agree with this thesis, Steve's facebook post to me this morning had me feeling more 'home' than I've felt in a long time. What was this miraculous post you ask? Steeler Ladies.
Now, I already was loving the original Beyonce song, although, since the teenager above me loves it as well and has a penchant for listening to it over and over again at 7am every morning, it's begun to wear on my nerves a bit. Today I got payback. I downloaded the Steel City version onto both of the laptops (Joe is not as thrilled that it's on his, as he's not a Steeler Lady), uploaded it my Ipod, and it is playing on seamless rotation as I type. Now, granted. I am a Steelers fan. A huge fan. I have a playlist of Steelers songs, including 3 versions of the polka. Some of the songs I have on the playlist on the laptop didn't even make it to the Ipod because they're from the Kordell era. I almost cut some songs from the 2005 Superbowl run because they refer to Plaxico. I don't like Plaxico. Now, I know that the song will eventually get old after listening to this latest version of Steeler Pride all day ,and I do mean all day. I took the Ipod to the office with me. (There was a brief amount of time where I listened to Rush. He's soothing. We've established this.) And I did listen to the Polamalu song a bit, some Paint it Black and Back in Black, but yes, mostly Steeler Ladies. Anywho, yes. It will eventually get old, but there is something hugely empowering about listening to this song and being able to parallel park in the city all while car dancing. (come on, you do it too, don't deny it. I SO know you do it!) The second verse is nice, yes, recounting all the players, and feeling cool because I know which players they're talking about. But strangely enough, its the first verse that's brought me back to myself. I'm not a typical lady. I certainly don't fit the mold of the fashonista NYC ladies. I'm from the midwest. I don't mind that it's 3 degrees. I'll wear another hoodie (preferably my big, comfy OSU one) I learned to yell at the refs from my dad. And while he doesn't have a Bradshaw jersey that I could swipe, I wear my Ward jersey(s) knowing one day they'll be there for my sweet little princess. But just because I'm from the midwest and have my 3 terrible towels, I can still be a city gal. I can parallel park pretty good, maybe even better than my dad. (I knew we'd turned a corner when the last time the folks were up to visit, dad declined the opportunity to drive, and let Joey chauffeur him around.) I can ride the subway, get in and out of a cab gracefully and run in 3 inch heels. Yet, just because God has moved me to New Jersey, I do not cease to be a midwest gal. I will sing along as Myron 'yoi's' his way through the polka. I will dance around the house to Steeler Ladies through Sunday, and beyond in the case of a win... because "i was raised this way, i know every play,...look at me now with my Terrible Towel." And I will dance the salsa the best I can, clap in latin rhythm at church and attempt the Wu Tang (as long as the New City Kids are doing it with me...) Just because my location of home has changed doesn't mean that all the things that went into me have to cease. "What we were plus what we are makes us Pittsburgh" This is the sum of me. Dancing in my jersey and enjoying every minute of it. Switchfoot, Style and Steeler Nation.... this is who I am.

Merry Christmas!

I know, you're saying... um... Sarah, look at the calendar. It's January 15. You've overshot by a couple of weeks. But we did the actual Christmas dates down in Florida and then I went to Ohio (and Detroit, I have the CUTEST new little cousin Julia, plus got to see the ADORABLE Levi who is getting so big!) to do Christmas with my fam there, so last night, Joe and I finally had our Christmas together. It was wonderful. Pics will be posted on face book soon, along with video of the Speeder and his stocking. And this morning when we woke up to yet another FREEZING day here in Joisey, it was SNOWING!! So, yeah, pretty good Christmas for me. But, alas, because the rest of the world is unaware of the fact that yesterday was Christmas for me, Joe and I both had to go to work today. So as I was driving him to the train, muttering under my breath about all the folks who suddenly forget how to drive in weather, I found myself saying the following to Joe. (this is proceeded by me letting a driver from a side street make a left turn in front of me, with no acknowledgement of my kind driving.) Me: "You're welcome!. See that's the problem I have with all the drivers around here. I figure because I'm a kind driver, people will be kind to me, but that just doesn't happen." Which suddenly made a connection to a book I've been reading. My boss got it for me for Christmas, but Steve tried to get it for me too (Steve, side note, forget if I told you, but I should have taken that copy, the flight attendant on the flight home was asking about it and wrote down the title... wished I had it to give to her....) Anywho, one of Tim Keller's points is that the parable of the prodigal son was told to prick the Pharisees in the group who are represented by the older brother in the story. Because he'd lived a 'good' life, he expected to get all these blessings from his father. The pharisees of old lived much the same way. They kept to the law not because it was "life to their bones" but because they figured if they did all the right things, they would get all the right blessings from God. Not so much. And that's the way I've lived. I've been "nice and good" all my life (go ahead, Steve, break into 'into the woods' songs now...) expecting that God will bless me with all the things I want, no matter if they're the best He has for me. I've been good, and I want it so give it to me now. Yeah, I'm not a princess or anything. But even after reading it, and knowing it applied to me, it took crazy Jersey drivers to bring the point home to me. So thank God for Jersey drivers, and it's my prayer that I would love Him for HIM not for the things He can give me. That's my prayer for you too, this new year (well, newish... I know, I'm a few weeks behind...) That you would find a new depth of love for the Lord, that you would not be able to grasp how wide, how deep His love is for you and you would never tire of it. With the tough times we're facing ahead, He's all that matters.