I want to play a game. It’s like two truths and a lie, but it’s called:
(3) THINGS I SWORE I WOULD NEVER SAY, AND (4) THINGS I WILL (still) NEVER SAY:
- Yes, the pâté was made from scratch.
- It’s Chanel.
- And that’s how I trained for my first 5K.
- And that’s how I trained for my first marathon.
- I voted for a Republican.
- I am dating a Republican.
- I live on Long Island.
Let’s talk about #7 on the list, good old Long Island.
My perception of Long Island was largely (and unfairly) created by the root of all evil, the media. It was because of this devil that I learned to believe that Long Island looked more like an episode of The Daily Show (click here for a laugh) than this:
It was through my television that I met the Long Island Medium’s, the J-Wows and the Princesses of Long Island. It was the designer bags, the hair, and the accents that deterred me from seeing a future here. I had even spent my college years in a school that was 60% Long Island at the height of the blow-out. I mean, wasn’t Long Island the place where oompa loompas (click here) go to die?
It was the summer of 2010 that changed my life for the better. I was 22 when I was given the opportunity of a lifetime and the chance to land my dream job… in dun dun dun… Long Island. The place I swore I would never live, the place I genuinely detested for all that it represented- in the media. Then again, how do you say no to your dream job? It could have been in a one stop-light town and I probably would have said yes and made the move. Twenty-two years old with nothing to lose and a way too much to gain. I did it. I packed my bags and drove 5 hours south to start my adult life.
Friday is possibly my least favorite night of the week when it comes to motivation and doing anything that requires movement. When John and I discussed to run or not to run, it really was the question. We both realized that the answer was: get it over with. It was one of those nights that started off challenging, probably because I was in a poor frame of mind from the get-go. My legs felt 50lbs each, and with every step I took I felt the weight of my week-
Monday. I hate running.
Tuesday. Why did I make a blog about running.
Wednesday. My nose is stuffy.
Thursday. I am exhausted.
Despite pushing myself through, I had this deep unease that could not be silenced. I just wanted to go home and quit.
As we hit the one mile mark the sun began to set. It was the most phenomenal sunset I have ever seen. The clouds hugged the sun like a child, allowing it to peak out and break through their grasp. I needed to stop- and not for the wrong reasons. John and I stopped to take the night in and to regain ourselves. I always say this, but it really is OK to take a break. Life is not a race, life should not be timed. I needed to appreciate my home the place where I have now started my life. The place where I learned a little more about who I am and who I am becoming.
As the sun drove further towards the ocean it dipped below the clouds. We decide to run another mile east and let it hit our backs. At the two-mile mark we stopped again to watch it reflect against the water, the boardwalk, our faces. A white building was shaded in a variety of monochromatic pink tones. The orange and red sphere morphed into the Atlantic and appeared to melt as it hit the cool blue horizon. I felt entirely at peace with my life and I knew in that moment that this world is whatever we make of it.
John and I allowed the sun to have its final moments alone as we descended down the boardwalk. A couple ran up the boardwalk past us to exist in its final moments for the day. We walked the rest of the way home holding hands with the sun still at our backs. I paused a few times to take pictures of a stray cat and some power lines. When life is perfect even power lines can look beautiful.
It is possible that I should be thanking the media for this bad press- there are too many people on this tiny little Island, and the rent is too damn high! So stay off my Island and keep watch reality T.V.