Sweet, Sweet Virginia.

i spent the long weekend for Christmas at home in Virginia... and of course had a wonderful time. just like thanksgiving we were all back in the house, and like a christmas miracle (on viking drive), there seemed to always be enough hot water. we spent plenty of time lounging as a family, eating audrey's gingerbread and cookies (her russian balls in a christmas tin that i continually referred to as "tinballs" by mistake), and we crammed on the couch and loveseat to watch "National Lampoons Christmas Vacation." Quimby continuously and insanely barked to go out back, then barked to come back in... and would do it over and over again as though she'd forgotten she was just out there, which of course made everybody sad. while throwing one of Q's balls, audrey [not surprisingly] pelted and knocked over the mini tree on the ledge into the kitchen with her supreme ball throwing skills. as the 18 mini ornaments went flying, i could hear Greg Brady in my head saying, "mom always said, don't play ball in the house." audrey is way better at being little and looking Greek than any sort of ball sports. :)


confession: i managed to sort of (ok fine, completely but not for long) doze off a little during the christmas eve sermon. an intense bikram class the night before, little sleep and a 530AM wakeup call, and maybe too taxing of a christmas eve run had me seriously struggling come an 11PM service. thanks to audrey's nudge, i was probably eyes closed for only about 1 minute, maybe 2, before i felt audrey's elbow and could feel her eyebrows scolding me. all i know is that the holding of the lit candle during Silent Night created enough of a panic in me to have the whites of my eyes as big as two quarters, talk about frightened. anyway... while i am so ginormously thankful to have spent the time with my family and extended family... i'd like to take the meat of this blog to talk about my best friends from back home.

these girls. are. my. heart. i have the fox mill girls and i have dorothy. these are 'my girls back home'.

the fox mill girls are an insanely solid group of human beings, all born within the winter months of 1981 into 1982. our moms knew each other, and we all grew up within a 1 mile radius in the neighborhood of fox mill. i just deleted a paragraph i wrote trying to explain this friendship.... but think of anything and everything little girls go through growing up, and add to that some pretty serious things, and these once wee little girls are still MY GIRLS. we're all different, we're all in a different city, we have different passions, different tastes in guys, different opinions on movies and politics..... but we've got each others backs and we love each other to pieces.

whitney hosted a brunch at her house the day after christmas where we devoured bacon, eggs, bagels and locks and drank mimosas in the same dining room where in the 7th grade she and i snuck a sip of the peppermint shnopps from the cabinet. (we promptly ran into the bathroom to spit out this disgusting substance!) for christmas, whitney's grandpa, who once gifted her grandma this full length beaver fur coat,  gave it to whittle whitney this time around. this thing could DEVOUR her. she put it on to model (and any opinions of wearing fur were tabled to just laugh). megan thought she looked like she was being spooned by a bear. whitney was more perplexed in how she was going to get it back to chicago (conclusion, it needed its own suitcase). we ate chocolate, drank wine and talked over each other and over a movie on TV. if anyone told anyone to "be quiet", there were looks of disgust, as there is no such thing as quiet when we're together.

after brunch megs, em and jessie headed out and i helped whit clean up before running some errands together. she was a wonderful listening ear as i told her the "whole story" and she gave me advice, support, and the stern, honest words any best friend needs to and should say. we talked about chris, her man whom i ADORE and am so happy whitney is with. i love this girl. and i loved whitney as the little seriously stud gymnast she was until about the 8th grade, which is why i've included a picture of a picture...haha. *please enjoy*

whit's mom drove her to a 'doc in the box' sunday morning after she lost her voice, again, saturday night at the comedy club in dc. turns out she has bronchitis. we all shared queso but it really didn't matter, as we'd been sharing coffee, eating each others bagels, and as megan said, "burping and breathing on each other all weekend." we congregated at megan's apartment the remainder of the weekend, as she's convinced she's "allergic to her parent's house". our magoo knows all about the kardashians, the jersey shore and out of her perplexity that she knows more on perezhilton than cnn, informed us she deleted her facebook account. oh megan, i do love you. even though whitney was so hopped up on prescription cough medicine that she randomly bellyflopped onto the love seat (on her way over to the couch), she still engaged amidst her drowsiness.  we missed emily as she froze her buns off at the redskins game despite me loaning her 19 layers, and for the love i hope this girl gets a new cell phone because when your twin sister doesn't get your texts... well that just sucks. (dad hates this word). i do love it that my twin sister is in my best friend group... and while we bicker, while we're so different, the "wood twins" are a set.

sunday afternoon i got to meet one of my most special friends, dorothy, for a long, 3 hour coffee at starbucks. i met dor working in a running store in 2002, and of any of my friends, i have watched this girl change and blossom *the most*. dorothy asks about the fox mill girls, and the fox mill girls ask about dor... as they all know theyre equally significant people in my life. dorothy is my running friend, but more importantly, one of my best friends who i can talk to about literally anything and everything. through the nearly 8 years of our friendship my breath has been taken away by this girls transformation. from a little Lost in Translation (which we all are at one point)... to the most solid mommy, friend, and not to mention insanely kick ass runner, i aDORe this girl. we talked, laughed, cried about big life things, wiped tears and laughed again... because in the end, we know its all going to be okay. we did our annual gift exchange and would get sidetracked with so many *sidenotes* in our stories, but we were never confused, because that's how its always been. we laughed as we realized the awkward couple next to us was clearly on a match.com date, and we evesdropped a little because that's what we do too. 


this blog has been all over the place. it hasn't been very funny. very flowing. or very purposeful. i guess i am writing this blog to gloat... to gloat that i am one of the rare chicks who has a NETWORK of best girlfriends. while i've picked up my miller twins, my jen kelly, and my college running friends along the way..... the fox mill girls and dorothy are my girls back home. they raised the bar very early on, and i love... love... love them for it.

xo,

cw

Seen & Heard

after handing over my credit card to pay for a christmas shopping purchase.... 
sales clerk: claire? well Of COURSE you're a claire! I mean you just look like a Claire!" (said in the most enthusiastic voice i've ever heard)
me: well i hope i look like a claire... i've been one for 28 years now...
clerk: no no, you know how some people look like their name and then other people REALLY look like their name? you're like, THE PERFECT claire, like, i can't get over it!

while running on the treadmill at the gym (i hate the treadmill)
random man comes over and moves the towel i have covering up the time, and the pace. (loser move #1). as he moves it over he says, "whatdayagotgoinonoverhere" (loser move #2).... and as he does this, said towel falls, onto moving treadmill, i nearly slip on it, and it flies off the back onto the floor. at this moment i said nothing, looked at him, and he simply walked away, as i stared down at the only 19 minutes that had gone by and the 7.5 pace that i was really hoping i'd clicked up to 8 by then. much appreciated AC Slater.

question of the ages for the single girls....
is it just me that ends up colliding at the checkout line with a gorgeous man [with no wedding ring on b/c i notice this] every time i am buying tampons? and then the awkward, "no you go ahead," and "no, no, go for it" exchange back and forth. yo mister, it's not as though i'm in a crisis as i am standing here, but thank you for adding to the awkwardness of my life.... that shouldn't be an awkward situation.

cantaloupe
dear random nice man at work, please don't continue to offer me chopped up cantaloupe that you're eating out of tupperware with your fingers. i don't do community, exposed fruit.

discussions of lunch
me to my boss: let's go across the street, i feel like a big salad!
boss: you look like a big salad (walks away)

Safe travels to everyone this holiday season. As for me, i'll be departing for our nations capital in the morning, where Dad will have to circle around a few times at the pickup area because we'll have a miscommunication as to what door I am in front of. I'll then see his car, he'll see me, and i'll briskly walk toward it as i'm trumped by the former bike cop aggressively directing airport traffic and telling him to move along, utilizing harsh hand motions and a whistle.

Merry Christmas friends :)
xo,
cw

my parents are brilliant.

because when we were kids they made shoveling snow seem like some sort of event. the three of us each had our own shovel. audrey's a bit taller with a red handle, mine and emily's the same but labeled with colored tape. creating communicated ownership and the implication that these shovels were "ours" is down right genius. kudos dave and lisa, i've pretty much just now realized this.

we'd have contests, see who could build the biggest mounds, and our competitive spirits would be appeased by mom and dad's neutral judging, making sure to compliment each of us for a different quality about our snow mounds. "audrey that looks like an igloo" or "emily, so neat and compact," and "claire, getting that part of the driveway really isn't easy darling!"

in total seriousness, they weren't slave drivers or something, merely brilliant parents who yes, did most of the shoveling, but did have a 3 extra sets of elbow grease to make the hot cocoa come that much faster.

today i shoveled my car out in boston, and was laughing inside my head thinking how i once thought this was cool. mom and dad, brilliant, juuuust brilliant.... is all i have to say.
please note my unburied jetta after this weekend's storm. yes, this photo on display is merely to brag.

no hoot-ing in 2009.

i was supposed to fly home for the second annual Holiday Hootenanny.
it is really a fantastic time had by all.
the cliff notes: its the 6 degrees of separation of the running community, with DC being the epicenter.
people who ran in college. people who run in dc. people who own running stores. people who work for running stores. people who make out with all previously mentioned people (what of it? i was raised to be honest). i was at last year's hoot and had a blast. the night involved many-a-shennanigan, 17ish facebook friend requests the following week (i'm not bragging, but thats the running world for you), and ended with taco bell that i'm pretty sure i hadn't eaten since that SAT prep class mom and dad paid for where emily would fall asleep and i would have to wake her up (noteworthy: this was a private class, only 2 of us. awkward? yes, very).

post-hoot i was so happy to have hung out with such a great crowd and be reminded that this is such a great crowd.  soooo, if you noticed the "supposed to be" line in my first paragraph you can gather i'm not headed to DC. yepp. huge bubble burster.

mother nature (and dad's worried voice that finally made me listen to all the hype re: this storm) has put a big gigantic damper on my plans. no snow run with lauren gabler through my old DC trails, no staying at Audrey's and being a hop skip and a jump from the bar, no doing "the mrs. bennett lip" with one of the hosts which would probably have people thinking it was some creepy signal (but actually isn't), and no bustin a move in my element because it is soooo my element.

i probably could've gotten to the hoot, the question was getting back. this is not a good situation for muah to be in, especially with the few days before xmas. it is what it is, and oh well. i am safe and warm [sort of, our heater needs to find its testosterone] here in beantown. opted to stay in on this friday but fun plans tomorrow. i will miss the holiday hootenanny, especially since i finally stopped calling it the hootenay by mistake. have fun my fabulous friends, throw a few back for me, (and only a few. we all know that's all i can take).

*below is the picture that came with the invite from the hosts; just a glimpse into the fun i was gonna be workin' with.

cw

welcome to it.

so i'm 28. i've been 28 since 3:49PM this past tuesday. i actually caught the clock right after a meeting at the exact time of 3:49, and i made sure to wait at my desk for three minutes to give a nod to Twin B's arrival at 3:52. i had a solid run around the river with a my wise friend Brian at sunrise, was greeted by some amazing first round protos of our premium neutral shoe that arrived in BETTER shape than i could have ever imagined, and i had a brisk walk to "WICH IT" for lunch where Rose the owner greeted me by name and knew i'd be ordering the Orchard Hill sandwich, [melted bri with cranberry and roasted pears on multigrain bread served warm... ummm i know right?]

28 was off to a better-than- normal start, or so i thought. i didn't know 28 would having me smiling bigger and laughing harder than i have on any first days of any new year for my Sagittarius self.

a little over 5 years ago there were two girls, twins, perusing the Boston marathon expo. one of them looking for running shoes, one of them looking for running shorts that made her look "less boxy"

"Poison (my given nickname at Mizuno) git yer butt over here" (in a stern texas accent), said Mike Rouse (the loud, overly extraverted, biggest hearted Sheriff of all the expo world), "these girls are COOL, and this one FREAKIN looks and acts like you." now, brace yourselves, because one of the most rare occurrences to ever happen, happened on this day. these girls... the twins and claire (aka Poison) completely and utterly hit... it... off... they thought each other was great, fabulous, funny;  and WHEN do girls meet total strangers by happenstance and think each other is great? let's be honest, rarely folks... if ever. we're female.... we're not inclined to just becoming BFF's with any other chick, especially in a loud convention center when a mid-50's man is making the intro's.

Mary and Kay would join the Mizuno crowd that night for dinner at Cottonwood and into the early morning hours at the hotel bar. they'd join us for a 10-miler along the river marathon-day-morning, and they'd join into countless email strings where the foundation of the friendship was built.

if you'd asked me 5 years ago if i thought Mary and Kay would be classified amongst my best friends, fixtures in my lives... i would've told you my instincts tell me, yes. The last few years i have laughed, run, cried while laughing, cried while running, cried at movies, cried about boys (fine, just one), cried and laughed about life with these two. These girls are gems. GEMS. and i am so, so thankful for the day we met. i never thought i'd find myself in Boston, the city where it all began, and where Mary and Kay have so many roots. through them my move back East has been that much easier, and that more fulfilling.

the night of my birthday, Mary and Kay orchestrated a birthday dinner, hosted by a dear friend of theirs (also named Mary and who i am now glad to call my friend and is SUCH an amazing soul). I met Kevin, "a spade's a spade",  (who is adorably endearing and hysterical and really listens when you talk and googles as you're talking and really can't stay but look now he's having a glass and a plate with food on it)... we ate deliciousness, sipped wine, and laughed so incredibly hard. we talked about when Mary left an ad agency to pursue triathlon, her training in Boulder (home for her the last 5 years), and our belief in her and her fierceness as a professional triathlete. we talked about Kay's transition, by choice, into the unknown world but now with the access to a canvas that will let her use her paint brush of thoughts and photo lens of creativity rather than having to keep all of this locked in a glass case right in front of her face... because this is a talented, full soul who should NOT resign said soul to a job that requires soul resigning.. and its simply as simple as that.

because i learned of a new grain that i'll misspell but sounds like "farroh", because the Miller twins emailed my sister's to find out the specific cake flavor and icing color, and because the cake said, "poison". because of this, (eh hem, because of them), i had the most fulfilling entrance into 28 i could've ever asked for.

thank you, Mary and Kay, (PJ and A+) for shopping for running shoes and shorts during my shift, and for being two of the kindest, most fun, most real, genuine friends i could ever hope to meet... by the way of pure happenstance.

here's to twins who are great, *if i don't say so myself ;)

xo,

poison

swollen eyes.

i just saw Everybody's Fine. i had no idea what i was getting into. it's heart-wrenching. moving. inspiring. touching. Robert De Niro is perfect. i balled my eyes out, literally - had to hold my winter scarf to my mouth because i was crying so hard.  these were Marley and Me type sobs.... from the whole theater and into the bathroom after the movie.
i can't talk too much about it right now, except it's one of the most powerful movies about family i have ever seen. please go see it, and be prepared.

with mascara coated contact lenses,
cw

just some things.

thoughts-slash-happenings from this week.

*my left contact has felt like there's a little piece of sand on it the last 2 days.
*when deleting old voice mails on my boston office phone i found the one from the inmate at suffolk   county jail. i decided to save it again. good for a rainy day.
*a girl in my bikram class, around my age, was seemingly born with deformities to both legs and both arms. she rules at bikram. she's beautiful. she kicks ass. i know this and don't even know her but the girl played the hand of cards she was dealt. and that is awesome. go life.
*i used the word "jackwipe" around our design team (combo of jackass and asswipe i used to say around little kids). they laughed. i might use it more.
*42 is too old.
*i'm slowly coming out of my funk with the help of hanging out with awesome people to put it in perspective when people totally suck.
*i'm trying to introduce spicy foods into my life slowly and carefully....
*my cab driver told me, "giiiiirrrrrl, you look goooood," at the same time i asked for change back. it was funny and a little awkward, but dude, you're not getting a $10 just because you said that. [but i'll take it].
*my roommate and i learned that our neighbor has no short term memory. so sad, but makes so much sense for why we think she ignores us every other day. maybe i'll think of a new name each day to tell her. i've always wanted to be a taylor or a maddie.
*i had a really great handwriting day yesterday. [my sister says i have 5 different types, what of it?]
*life is funny. make sure to laugh.
*pigs in a blanket are a weakness. my roommate will be making them for our party tonight. yupp, we're having a party tonight.
*88.9 rules if you live in the boston area.
*i put chocolate chips in my oatmeal at work. they were just sitting there. this isn't a good habit to start. i have no idea how i'm going to stop.
*its getting cold here. which reminds me. i moved to boston, a city that gets f r e e z i n g. crap.

xo,
cw

Funkmaster C

i might walk to lunch to get a sandwich. but i'm not even hungry [ and i'm never not hungry ] because i'm in an exceptional funk right now. i won't complain on my next blog. i promise. but i need 2 minutes to do just that.

four years ago i tripped over a suitcase and severely dislocated my shoulder. i was walking into my bedroom after a business trip and was Q-tipping [a verb?] and not looking at the floor to see the suitcase. i know. so embarassing, so ridiculous, but that's what happened. i suffered a posterior dislocation, which makes up only 3% of shoulder discloations; the rest of them being anterior. posterior is when the shoulder and scapula are discloated backwards, whereas anterior is forward. the pain and the resulting damage is significantly more severe, and i now deal with a right shoulder that dislocates so easy it's scary - it even fully came out in my sleep a few months ago. i got it back in on my own, whereas the first time it was the ER, morphine, and 2 doctors. i have known i need to see someone about this, need to try to do what i can to prevent surgery, and after being in a pool about a month ago i heard a little something tear. basically its a mess.

so early this morning i was out running in the navy yard. the cobblestone was so slick from the day's before rain and sleet... and i slipped and i fell... landing on my left shoulder. (formerly known as The Good One)... and it popped out. this must be what anterior is. it wasn't n-e-a-r-l-y as bad. but it was bad. i got it back in myself and fairly quickly, (as most people with anterior dislocations are able to do). but the point is.. that this happened. and i'm upset. and i could barely shampoo. and i walked back from my run in tears. and now i have one terrible shoulder and one not-so-good-one. and yes, i finally made an appointment with a well known shoulder specialist in boston for the earliest availability of january 19th.

when i was little my go-to swimcap said, "no whining".
i've not done a very good job of following those orders today.
sincerely,
Funkmaster C

leaving it at 27.

i'm not a big birthday person. i don't run around telling everyone it's my birthday. i don't expect gifts. i don't expect a big party. i'm used to sharing my birthday with my identical twin sister; and by used to, i mean i don't know it any other way. (and i love that). we are used to having christmas 10 days after our birthday, and our birthday 3ish weeks after thanksgiving. em and i arrived smack dab in the middle of the holiday season i suppose.

i'm in my last week of my twenty-seventh year, and i'll be honest... i sort of want to stay at twenty-seven. i know i'm being ridiculous; because twenty-eight shouldn't be any more or any less significant than twenty-seven. for some reason symbolically, it seems like it's the superglue on the back of some sign on the earth that says "GREETINGS CLAIRE, UPPER TWENTIES" (and in century gothic font, bolded and underlined). i know twenty-seven is upper twenties too, but something about the number feels more like elmer's glue and lowercase.  i definitely, utterly and seriously know the upper twenties doesn't mean i need to retire at life or something. my point is simply this: i'm usually indifferent about my birthday. and for the first time, and a few reasons, i'm wishing i could stay in twenty-seven just a little longer.

a lot has happened in my twenty-seventh year. some of it has been outstanding. some of it has been not-so-outstanding, but year twenty-seven has certainly taught me a few things. some of these lessons i've learned, some i haven't yet (but think i will), and maybe some of them i'll never know why. in year twenty-seven of my 5'5, brown haired, brown eyed self i learned to never compromise myself. i learned actions speak louder than words. i learned perspective from other people's eyes can make you stop in your tracks. i learned heartbreak. i learned courage can explode out of a child. i learned that i do know the feeling of being in the right place, and i do know the feeling when it's wrong. i learned to trust my instincts. i learned mentors are crucial. i learned to not bounce (as much) when i run, and i'm continually learning that i have a lot to learn....

in my year twenty-five i was introduced to the band MGMT. their song Kids is one of my favs for many reasons, and one of them is the chorus.

Control yourself

Take only what you need from it....


i'm going to do my best to bring the good stuff into 28... and for the not-so-outstanding stuff, i'm just gonna leave it at 27.

so... here's to the tail end of another year,

cw

scenes from a gym bunny.

so if you read my blog a few posts ago about my chronically-injured-left-leg, i mention how i'm not running as much as i'd like to be. i supplement a good amount of my fitness at the gym, and while i'm fortunate i get a sweet company discount via NB to a pretty nice one, i am officially a gym bunny.

gym bunny. the term makes me laugh. and that's why i use it. i grew up a swimmer starting at age 6, yet the pool makes me think of water-running during a horrendous injury either my frosh or sr. year of college track and xc. and the eliptical makes me think of those girls who wear those cotton soffee brand shorts that are WAY too small or valor shorts with "JUICY", written on the butt. (and in cursive of course). if any Juicy Cuture workout gear enthusiasts are reading, i'm really not trying to be rude.... but do us all a favor and buy 'em one size larger.... no offense. anyway, back to the meat of the matter.

one can get a fairly decent workout on the eliptical.... but when i watch episodes of The Girls Next Door with headphones on or find myself on the 80s music channel listening to Tiffany's "I think we're Alone now" while observing men doing abs only to get up and literally lift up their shirt to look at their abs in the mirror, i have to just laugh at myself. and the mirrors... oh the mirrors - i swear, the mirrors near the smaller weights (which girls would be using), make one look skinnier. The mirrors near the larger weights (where the guys would be using), make one look bigger. i am positive of this, completely and totally. and no i'm not stereotyping because in general (with exceptions) this is the gender breakdown and we know this.

unrelated but sort of related note: i once returned a wall mirror to target because the reflection was not accurate. and yes, that is exactly what i told the clerk behind the counter. he laughed so hard. i got my money back. everybody won.

being a gym bunny also exposes me to a new element in the locker room. Nudity.
having the privilege of running for a university with excellent facilities, we had individual showers as an option to the one huge community one. in general, female athletes didn't shower together. its no problem if you do, each to her own, but every single team at JMU used the individual showers except the girls volleyball team. we called them The Nudies. once a lacrosse girl walked in on me in my individual shower, (which to this day i do not understand as my dirty running clothes were on the bench and there are 2 separate curtains you have to pull). i think her name was johanna, she opened the curtain so hilariously aggressively while my arms were up shampooing and we just stared at each other. everytime i'd see her on campus i would think "that girl saw me totally naked." when you're 19 these things are funny.

so this element of Nudity hit me full frontal. (pun intended... or should i say, bun(s) intended). naked lady is walking around the locker room as i'm changing to workout. I hop on the ole eliptical, do my lifting and exercises for my stupid leg, promise myself i'll do my abs at home after dinner (didn't do them), and try not to expose my caboose as i foam roll with running shorts that aren't compliant with foam rolling....

i re-enter the locker room and naked lady is just walking around. great. perfect timing; we must've started and finished at the same time but with time for her to be naked again. at this point i'm judging. because she is barefoot (total lack of hygiene), and is seemingly doing loops around the locker areas looking for something. seriously? i shower. she must've showered, because there i am again with naked lady just waltzing around with a towel on... HER HEAD. naked lady then conveniently says excuse me, as her locker is directly below mine (of course, have you met me? i am claire and this is how my life works). she literally is lotion-ing up, brushing her mane of hair all the while i've quickly dressed and put my hair in a wet bun. i am then at the mirror putting on face lotion and THERE SHE IS. she sidles right on over, literally, aggressively pokes from around the corner WHILE putting on deodorant (and therefore has an arm up while being naked), and asks "is this Sting?"

she is referencing the music playing over the intercom in the locker room. i was not paying attention to this music. i am busy trying to avoid naked lady, but naked lady has found ME, to inquire of the artist that makes up the background scenery to my life in this moment. My dear friend Kay told me, "Claire, you are Liz Lemon and you live at 30 Rock".

me: i have no idea... i think so.
naked lady: i don't think it is, and i HATE when people sing other peoples songs!
me: oh... yeah i don't know sting too well.
naked lady: oh! i'm a huge fan of The Police, like enormous!
me: nods. smiles. exits conversation.

so here's the deal. she's probably a really nice person. she's comfortable with her body.
at the end of the day, this is nothing that should concern me. 
but for this gym bunny, i just didn't feel like it.
and i got a nice laugh. and a blog from it. that maybe you will read.

with love from manual level 9 and a low incline,
cw