Big City Living

Let’s NOT Have a Parade

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I am here to bring you the heartbreaking news that I have faced my worst disappointment of the year. All of my Thanksgiving hopes and dreams, stolen from me at the last moment. If you haven’t guessed it yet, you probably haven’t been following my blog for a full year. If you have been following me from the beginning, you know that the ultimate event of the year is THE Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. I’ve watched it every year of my life, near or far, and the last two years, I was lucky enough to be in it.

Don’t believe I’ve written about it before? Here are some examples:

  • My sister’s parade debut: 2016
  • My Parade debut (with bro and sis): 2018
  • 2019 Breakfast Clown
  • Group of Diary of a Wimpy Kid Balloon
  • Group of Viking Clowns
  • Group of Breakfast Clowns

This year was going to be EXTRA special though, because I was supposed to be in it WITH MY SISTER. We are both Macy’s Parade FANATICS. Caps intentional. She was in the Parade’s 90th year in 2016! I was there in the grand stand watching and shouting her name, of course.

And this was going to be our year!! We were elated. A good friend of mine had a connection and got us in as float escorts. Did I mention I’d also have a friend in my group? First time ever to participate with people I knew! So many exclamation marks!! And now… nothing.

Let me rewind a bit. Of course, with Covid-19 still raging, I knew this Parade would be like no other Parade before it. We were invited to participate in early October, so we already knew there would be huge precautions including no real route or spectators, pre-recorded sections, all local participants, mandatory Covid testing and face covering… it was going to be a whole thing. But I was still excited. Can you imagine me telling my kids I was such a Parade Junkie that I marched in the one that was in the middle of a global health pandemic? I could. In fact, I did imagine it. Every day.

We’ve all had our share of disappointment this year. I had a lot of plans that were canceled. A trip to see my brother. A work trip to a military base in South Carolina. A trip to Copenhagen with my mom and brother. A trip to AUSTRALIA. I had plans to go to 15 new fitness studios in NYC and to see the NYC Ballet finally perform the Nutcracker. All of those hopes were dashed. Since March, I’ve tried to keep my expectations excruciatingly low for the year. My only hope now is to not get sick and not find out the winner of Great British Bakeoff by reading their darn Twitter spoilers.

But the Parade… I thought it was actually going to happen. Last week, we got our assignments emailed to us and I was going to be a Float Escort on the NY Life Float. I had set aside time in my work schedule to get my mandatory Covid test two days before the Parade. My 5:30 am alarm was set. And then I got the email.

  • Long explanation that says SORRY NOT SORRY.
  • Emial from the Executive Producer that was a day late, and I predict due to social media blowback.
  • F.M.L.

SORRY NO DICE. The email basically said they had to cut down participants even more, sorry. And they said our participation would be deferred to next year. However, I don’t believe that part for a few reasons I won’t go in to, but suffice it to say, that has not been the case in other scenarios. And to make matters worse, I can’t even WATCH the Parade! There are absolutely no spectators allowed. So despite the fact that I live on the Parade route, and that I was literally going to be in the Parade last week, now I will be watching it on TV alone at home and crying.

Which is a great segue for the next blog I’ll be releasing this week, one I have been meaning to write for 7 years: best places to cry in NYC. We’ll all be needing it this holiday season.

I have absolutely zero plans for Thanksgiving, but if you do, I hope you plan on celebrating safely and with members of your immediate household. Hopefully, I’ll be back next year with a more festive blog.

For now, here are some old photos through the years of Parade-watching. Check the captions for the years.

  • 1990 in the Grand Stand, My baby bro is in that bundle of blankets.
  • 2009, my bro and sis
  • 2009, my sis and me
  • 2012, calling my brother on the phone in Israel!
  • 2010 with my friend Lauren
  • 2016 with Charlotte, in line to get into the grand stand
  • 2016 in the grand stand!
  • 2018, with my sis, in the year between her parade appearance and mine!
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Fitness

Quarantine Fitness

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As a fitness instructor, this quarantine is hitting me hard. Not only am I losing hundreds of dollars every month the gym is closed, I’m losing hours of moving my body and I’m missing a critical part of my social life at the gym. All of these things have had an effect on my physical and emotional health, but what I’ve found has affected me most is the loss of my gym crew. I MISS PEOPLE! I love teaching fitness classes, I find joy in helping people meet their fitness goals, choosing news songs for playlists, catching up with the same people twice a week, and sweating out the stress of the day.

And I’m writing this blog so that you can learn from me and you don’t need to do your own research. The first few weeks of quarantine I was struggling to find a balance between work, fitness, and happiness, and I am still working on it. Work is incredibly overwhelming, stressful, time-consuming and emotionally draining, and that’s why finding my niche with at-home workouts was even more important to me. I tried a lot of different things – types of fitness I hated and loved, formats of classes I hated and loved, and instructors I hated and loved. I have so much to say that I’m splitting this post into two parts. First, more generalized types of classes and instructors I love, and later this week, my actual favorite classes and links to where you can find them.

I was especially motivated to write this post now because I follow so many instructors and gyms on social media and most of them have been IRKING me. I discovered the joy of working out in college, but I didn’t always look at it in a healthy way. There was a time in college where I counted every calorie going into my body and every minute on the elliptical. I was at the gym 5 hours a day. Psychologists agree that one factor that impacts disordered eating is a sense of control. When other things in people’s lives feel out of control, eating and exercise are two things that can easily be monitored and controlled. And that is why so many fitness instructors and “fitfluencers” now are annoying the hell out of me.

Things are HARD right now. Stressful. Uncertain. But fitness instructors should not be capitalizing on that to sell classes. I understand that fitness instructors whose livelihoods are depending now on online classes seem OBSESSED with proving that their programs create results, visible abs, visible biceps, etc. But I worry that people see these milestones and feel like it is the only goal to strive toward. With vacations and plans canceled for months, people are looking for things to aim for. And more time on their hands, all they need to do is take 4 fitness classes a day and they can get abs! YIPPEE! Great goal! I see people gloating about “tripling” (i.e. taking 3 classes in a day). This is not something to gloat about. I have been there, that’s how I know. Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t create goals for yourself, or set something to strive for during these crazy times. But the unhealthy way I see it portrayed on Instagram is troubling me.

This is not a post about disordered eating or disordered working out, it’s about how I came to find joy in the endorphins of working out, how I am finding that joy during quarantine.

I already told you the main thing I am missing from the gym is my people, so it may seem counter-intuitive that the first thing I am recommending is a solo activity… RUNNING! I know, I know, you never thought you’d hear this from me; I literally own a shirt that says “I hate running.” I recently wrote about my January run streak and how I’d never do it again. But I can’t stress how much fresh air and alone time can help elevate my mood. I have been running often with my fiance’s sister. We run a couple times per week together. But when I am feeling really down, I have been lacing up my shoes, cuing up a playlist of my favorite jams, and taking it to the streets alone. As much as I love my fiancé and his family, it can be nice to quiet my mind and surroundings for an hour.

I have had many friends and strangers tell me they wished they could run, but they can’t run more than a few minutes without giving up. They ask what the secret is and it’s simple – just run as long as you want! And when you want to stop to walk, do that. Especially during these crazy times, adding extra pressure on yourself is not going to help anything. Just get outside, breathe fresh air, listen to some awesome music, or podcast, or audiobook, and stop when you want. Or don’t. It reminds me of the Forrest Gump quote:

That day, for no particular reason, I decided to go for a little run. So I ran to the end of the road. And when I got there, I thought maybe I’d run to the end of the town. And when I got there, I thought maybe I’d just run across Greenbow County. And I figured, since run this far, maybe I’d just run across the great state of Alabama. And that’s what I did. I ran clear across Alabama. For no particular reason I just kept on goin’. – Forrest Gump

But not everyone wants to run or walk. And soon it’ll be way too hot in Texas for me to run, too. The only way some people will work out is when someone is giving them structured advice in the form of a class. The great news is, there has never been a better array of classes available online. But that doesn’t mean they are all equal.

Here’s the type of instructor I do NOT want to be anywhere near during quarantine: Anyone who yells. Period. Do not tell me I can do 15 more squats. You don’t know what I went through today. You don’t know that I spoke to someone who lost both of their parents this month and took a 20% pay cut that day despite having two mortgages because they can’t sell their current house in this market. Maybe today I can’t do 15 more squats. And do NOT tell me that I need to turn my video on for Zoom. I have my video on for Zoom ALL DAY for work. If I don’t feel like having someone watch my form today, then I will leave your class. And guess what, I have done that! Now is not the time to waste energy on things that bring me down and not up. Which brings me to my next point.

Here’s the type of instructor I DO want to be near during quarantine: Someone who smiles. Someone who says, “we’re in this together.” Someone who says, “I had a hard day today, but I’m so glad we’re here together now.” Someone who says, “have FUN!”

Now let’s talk a little about class format. Technology can be hard. I get it. There will be tech problems. But Zoom workouts??? It’s a HARD PASS for me. I have tried a couple different classes on Zoom and WebEx, ALL BAD. Every. Single. One. As a fitness instructor, ex-musician and ex-dancer, music matters. Music must go with moves. I am not an AMRAP girl. I am an 8-count girl. Nothing irks me more than an instructor who cannot count. So, if an instructor is counting but the beat doesn’t match with the voice, I will leave. I left 3 BollyX classes because I was so frustrated. I left a bootcamp class. One class I stayed in, but I put my own music on from Spotify. Now, if I sign up for a class and I see it is taking place on Zoom, I just don’t go. I may lose money but it’s not worth the stress and frustration.

That still leaves a lot of options, though! Instagram Live, Facebook Live, Peloton, BurnAlong and Youtube! None of those options allow the instructor to see you, so it’s less interactive, but you can still leave comments. Also another benefit, no one can yell at you because they can’t see you!

I will post later this week about my favorite instructors and formats during this time. Spoiler alert: it’s a lot of dance cardio, workouts I can get lost in where time passes quickly, and instructors who focus on positivity and fun. I sent an extensive list of links to my great aunt and she has been dancing and Zumba-ing around her house for a month. I can’t wait to tell you all about my favorite online offerings so we can do them “together!”

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Miscellaneous

True Life: Engaged and Quarantined

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February 14th, I got engaged to the love of my life. One month later on March 14th, we made the split-second decision to flee our home and asked his sister if we could temporarily stay with them in Texas. And here we are on April 14th, basically moved in with my future in-laws with no end in sight and trying not to kill each other. At least once a day I catch myself looking down at my ring, taking a deep breath, and reminding myself that I signed up for this. But did I? Did any of us?

I think everyone can agree that besides Tiger King, the only thing keeping us sane in 2020 is the abundance of memes on Instagram. My personal favorites are the ones like “Day 27 of Quarantine, I have realized that I can’t stand the sound of my husband breathing.” I spoke to a friend recently who said she never realized how loud her partner chewed and has now resorted to playing loud music whenever they dine together. Which is every single meal, every day.

Don’t get me wrong, things could be worse. SO MUCH WORSE. I have a roof over my head, a job, and plenty of (too much?) food. I also have a loving partner who said last night that he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. To which I said, “Really? Still?”

Living together is hard. I remember when Chris and I first made the decision to move in together, about 1.5 years into our relationship. I was SUPER nervous about it. I had lived with people my entire life, from parents to roommates, to more roommates, then MORE roommates, because NYC, ya know? Anyway, I had never shared a room with someone besides for one year in a dorm with a roommate who basically slept at her boyfriend’s apartment. And I certainly had not shared a bathroom with a boy besides my brother, who I could just hit if he left the toilet seat up. But a tiny 1-bedroom apartment with a man who I couldn’t just hit when I got annoyed? That was uncharted territory. And it was not easy.

There were socks everywhere. I mean EVERYWHERE. I would take the sheets off and find anywhere from 2-7 single socks at the bottom of the bed. Socks in the bathroom, in the living room under the couch. RIGHT next to the hamper. And don’t get me started on the dang toilet seat. It’s an ongoing battle. We are still in training, much like when you adopt a puppy, but it’s “please don’t pee on the seat” instead of “please don’t pee in the corner on the rug” (but also sometimes that).

Thankfully, this quarantine happened after Chris and I had already been living together for 3 years, so we had both come to terms with each other’s eccentricities. We were prepared. Or we thought we were.

Narrator: “They were not prepared.”

Living with each other in your own home is one thing but living in someone else’s home is a completely different thing, especially when it is one of your family’s homes. Don’t get me wrong, I love his family. First of all, they are INCREDIBLY generous allowing us to come from the heart of the pandemic in NYC and move in on 6 hours’ notice, literally. Also, they have never been anything but welcoming to me. But that doesn’t change the fact that it is not my house.

There’s a level of comfort in knowing where the containers are and knowing that each top has a bottom because if it doesn’t, you throw it out.

Or knowing that the pillows are the right height so your neck doesn’t feel off all day.

Or knowing that by 11 am, everyone is awake and you can blast music to do a workout class or run the blender to make a protein shake.

Or knowing when the dishes in the dishwasher are clean. (Side note: I have spent 4 weeks now using my incredibly stealthy detective skills to try and figure out their system. I still have not made any headway.)

If you’re sitting at home reading this and playing the world’s smallest violin for my troubles, I get it. There are people out there struggling to survive. People in abusive relationships or without loving partners. I am lucky to have a loving partner, but he treats this house like it is his parent’s home with mommy dearest to clean up after him. Except she isn’t here, I am. And I am the guest, so I feel the need to clean up, pitch in, cook, fold laundry, etc. He feels the need to do NONE of those things except prance down the stairs when he smells bacon. This literally happened today.

This is certainly not the way I would have predicted our engagement to go. Thankfully, we have both been really busy with work. As you know from my previous blogs, one way we try to stay sane and keep from yelling at each other for breathing is by having a weekly date night. This has disappeared. I keep telling him he needs to plan something for me. ANYTHING. A picnic for lunch. A hike. Breakfast in bed. He told me today he is “just waiting to surprise me.” I told him it’s been 4.5 weeks and I’m sick of waiting. But what other choice do I have? Where am I going? Literally NOWHERE.

The good news is that we were not in any rush to get married, so we haven’t lost money or time on deposits or slashed dreams. The bad news is that there are no future plans in place to keep us together. We are holding it together by a tiny band of platinum and a not-as-tiny diamond. And love. Sometimes. When he picks up his socks.

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