Month: February 2016

Are We Getting Smarter About Working Out?

On the treadmill yesterday, going nowhere at 3.4 miles per hour, I was thinking about the ages and stages of my workout/ life balance. I know women my age who absolutely live for the gym, who tell me how much I would love cycling class if only I would just try it. My workout goal is to get in, get out, and over to Starbucks for a Venti Decaf Iced Americano. No cycling required.

Watching the women in their 30s  to 70s around me, some on the elliptical, others running next to me, I was flashing back to my single 20s and early 30s – hanging out at the Downtown Athletic Club all sweaty doing aerobics in my black leotard and tights. exercise-969300_640 (2)

As a young mother, I moved on to an uptown club for sculpting classes and workouts with my first trainer. In my 40s, I landed at this all-female gym, a place with great childcare, where I could show up in sweatpants and oatmeal stains on my shirt, which is exactly what I did yesterday after dropping my son off at school.

About 10 minutes in, I was thinking about how much exercise we really need to stay healthy and alert as we age, and an image popped into my head. Researchers had put rats into cages with running wheels to discover the connections between the intensity of various workouts and the creation of new brain cells in the “mature brain.” Surprisingly, according to a recent article  about the research, almost all the rats seemed to gain some benefit, even those that were just “slowly skittering” about.

When I was done, I checked my stats: 1.2 miles, 100 calories; nothing to boast about but I still felt fine. Whatever the intensity, I was living at my own pace. Come springtime, I will be off the treadmill without feeling guilty, intensely happy to be out of the gym and back walking in the sunshine.

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Why Work Friends Become Real Friends

Why do we still feel connected to some work friends from our past and not to others?

I thought about this yesterday when two random events brought this home to me and I realized I was closely linked to two women because sometimes colleagues become confidantes and real friends.

At Starbucks, I ran into Jean, a journalist I used to work with at The Sun in Baltimore.  After we hugged, we spent an hour catching up about our kids, our lives, and our current careers – in that order – because at this stage that’s how it usually goes. What I most remember during our time at The Sun many years ago was that as her star rose and mine fell, she remained loyal. It wasn’t the most political choice for her and I was grateful. As we were leaving Starbucks, we noticed another former colleague busy writing on his laptop. We didn’t stop,

Around 10 that evening when I scanned my Facebook feed, I was stunned to see a post from Charlyne, sharing that it was one of the worst days of her life. Her husband Carter had died at home with hospice care. We had started our careers as journalists at The Sun-Sentinel in Fort Lauderdale and then, as things often happened, she had come up to work at The Sun a year or two after I had.

There’s been a lot of conversation lately about the public/private disclosure of the most personal health information and Charlyne had chosen the private way. For years – and we had not seen each other for many years after she moved back to Florida – she has been one of my favorite Facebook friends, always congratulating me on life’s milestones and my family, and sharing great articles about journalism.

I woke up crying this morning thinking about Charlyne and the death of her husband. I woke up thinking about her friendship during my illness when I was 30 and single and trying to keep my illness private. I also remembered how thrilled I was when she met Carter. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

Real friends step outside the workplace. I think of Jean and Charlyne as two women who stood by me when I was vulnerable. They changed my life and made me believe that kindness could be found everywhere, even at work.

 

A Not-So-Funny Valentine’s Story

I was once so desperate to get the attention of a young man who dumped me that I created a poetry magazine just to publish my sad little Valentine’s Day poem.

Many Valentine’s Days have come and gone and none were as desperate as that one but those pathetic lines proved prophetic:

“Valentine’s Eve, no knights of desire…Caught up like a kite in the wind with too many trees in my path.”

Ok, folks, I was only 16.
Over the years I spent many more of those Valentine’s Days and Nights alone than with someone special.

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But things changed early in my coupledom with my husband as we sometimes went out to overpriced dinners and I received the $50-a- dozen-soon-to-be- wilting red roses. A night out – dinner, a sitter – could set us back a lot. I realized how lucky I was to be part of a couple and how much time I had wasted being sad when I was solo.

Yes, it’s the thought that counts and here’s my thought.

My Nordic prince, wherever you are: You were not worth poetry, not even my bad poetry. After I exposed myself and heard people laughing behind my back, I waited for any response. Even if I couldn’t win you back, I hoped to see some twinkle of recognition as you passed by and looked down from your lofty heights. Yet, I never knew what you thought. Only years later did someone tell me her story. Then I realized you were probably just making your way through the yearbook. I was only in the Fs. You had to hurry. It was midway through junior year and it was a long way to Z.

Is “Younger” The Best Fantasy on TV?

I am obsessed with “Younger,” the TV Land comedy about a 40-year-old divorced mother from NJ played by  Sutton Foster,  who passes herself off as a 26-year-old because that’s the only way she can get a job in NYC’s publishing world.

Let’s for a moment forget the most ridiculous aspects of the show: She has a best friend in Williamsburg, Brooklyn with extra room in a spacious loft; a thrift shop/hipster wardrobe that only a stylist could throw together; and, get this, an adoring twentyish tattoo-artist boyfriend.

OK, it’s all fantasyland, but there is also something of substance here that goes to the heart of how hard it can be for a woman to reclaim her career after she gets off the merry-go-round to care for her children. So many women I know – from 40 to 60 – are still trying to figure this out: How to balance career and family. Every woman’s story is different. I’ve tried it lots of ways – on and off the merry-go-round through three careers – but I never thought to lie about my age. How could I? I could never get away with it. There’s Facebook and yearbooks and everything else to give me away.

Although the show is mostly played for laughs – Liza Miller must be the only 40-year-old who doesn’t know what Twitter is when she starts her job – there are some ugly stereotypes. Her boss, Diana, a severely made-up, divorced (and possibly childless) woman in her 40s, is a bitch from old school drama, and one who stands in the way of Liza’s success. And the male head of the publishing house is crushing on Liza and ignoring age-appropriate women like her boss.

Yet, the show is clever, and as Emily Nussbaum, the TV critic for The New Yorker observes, “The goofy premise suggests an alternative view of the generation gap.”  So, it comes as no surprise when a few of my students tell me they’re watching “Younger,” too. Why?  It’s all about Hilary Duff; they grew up with her. Hilary plays the perky, ambitious Kelsey, who is loyal to her sometimes clueless colleague Liza.  And also cries on her shoulder whenever she screws up. Only a few years out of college, Kelsey is creating the successful life my students can only dream of. She’s already getting her own publishing imprint for millennials.

Perfect. “Younger” is a fantasy for mothers and their daughters.

Name your price for “Hamilton”

How much would you pay to see “Hamilton,” Broadway’s hottest show? Or for tickets to see Springsteen or Adele?

I admit that as I was searching for tickets to see “Hamilton” I was wondering just how far I would go. Would I – would you – be willing to meet a stranger from Craigslist on the street in NYC who was selling two last-minute tickets for $600? This recently happened to a nice couple hoping to celebrate their anniversary. Big surprise: fake tickets.

Why are tickets so scarce?

hamilton hysteriaEven if you get on legitimate sites when tickets first go on sale, it’s already too late, According to an investigation by the NY Attorney General’s Office, “ticketing is a fixed game” More than half the tickets for the most in-demand shows in NY (and some of this is happening nationally, too) are already reserved in favor of promoters, special friends, high-end credit card holders, and some lucky fans.

In full disclosure here, as a journalist I had that favored status – free tickets to Springsteen and Madonna when I covered those concerts. For Broadway shows I also had access to coveted house seats (front orchestra tickets) which I always paid for.

Unless I was reporting, I always paid my way and over the years I’ve decided when I’ve wanted to pay full-price, stand in line for half- price tickets in NYC, or when I’ve been willing to wait for touring companies of “Wicked” and “Book of Mormon” to come to town.

For concerts, there’s been a bit more nostalgia and there were times I couldn’t wait.

Everyone thought  I was crazy 15 years ago when I bought a solo ticket through a DC agency to see U2 at the Verizon Center in DC. It was one of my favorite concerts even though the 20somethings near me smoking all night drove me crazy. Last year I bought last minute tickets on StubHub to see Fleetwood Mac on their reunion tour. It was an amazing concert that I saw with an old friend to celebrate her birthday. We had pretty good seats, and it wasn’t too expensive. Prices at big stadiums often drop closer to concert time.

And now, of course, you might be wondering about “Hamilton.”

After searching the official site, I noticed that the first available tickets were for my birthday weekend in May.

But they were resale tickets on Ticketmaster and cost twice their face value. Sitting at the computer, I hesitated, and my fingers hovered over the purchase.

Not great seats. Orchestra, rear, far left.

But I rationalized: It’s for a big birthday.

I’ll skip the blowout dinner and the four-star hotel.

Click. Purchase.

That was three months ago.

Last night, just for fun, I went online to check for tickets.

Guess what? Seats near mine are selling for almost double what I paid.

I now think I got a bargain.

Let’s face it. I can justify anything except standing on street corners waiting for strangers.

The Secret of Turning Twice30

Many people don’t get the chance to turn 30 twice.

That’s the way I’m looking at it.  It’s a gentle way of thinking about turning 60 which is coming up this year.  It’s also a year of milestones: Celebrating 30 amazing years of survival after a life-threatening illness, 25 years of marriage (one of us deserves a medal!), and two great children I thought I might never have. On good days people tell me I don’t look a day over 55. Listen folks, I’ve got a mirror and if it could talk it would tell me: You have the face – jowls and all – that you’ve earned. So much for SPF 30!

So in celebrating this year, I’ve been reflecting on family, friendships, work, life trajectories, and what it’s like to come full circle in my third career – teaching college students about media after my first career as a journalist and my second as an attorney. I’ve got a lot on my mind – both the serious and the lighthearted – and I’m tired of the “boomer narrative” that doesn’t match the lives of the women I know.

I’m hoping to connect with old friends and new ones.  Share your thoughts and stay in touch.