Small Bites and Little Victories

Last week I made plans to have dinner with my friend Kim. Dinner and drinks with her are always a power catch up,  and so incredibly fun! Our conversations range from religion, love, work, mediation, our favorite crock pot recipes to where to find the best Bloody Mary's in the City. The topics always vary, but the tone of the conversation is always the same - complimentary and kind. We're usually only about half a glass into whatever we're drinking before I find myself not being able to hold myself back from telling Kim how wonderful I think she is. That's why when I saw the meeting invite that Kim sent over for our hang I couldn't help but giggle to myself, it read: "Kim + Katie Compliment Party." Kim and I went to a small liberal arts school in Ohio, called Denison University, which isa really special place. The people that I spent my 4 years of school with were hilarious, extroverted, fun loving and so good to one another! The way that Kim and I hang

I, like most people, love to be included. It doesn't really matter what it is, I just know that I want in! I am sure that this is a product of being one of four kids, and always wanting to make sure that I didn't get left out.  When my older brother joined the swim team, I threw on my water wings and paddled around the shallow end while he practiced, when my little brother and sister had a lemonade stand, I gave them all my coins so that they would have change (I was also a very shrewd investor at a young age), when my dad was splitting wood in the backyard for a fire, I would pick up sticks for kindling. When my mom was making cookies, I would steal as many chocolate chips as I could without being detected. I might not be able to do exactly what they were doing - but I wanted to mirror them in some way. The fear of being left out hit me hard when my boyfriend began training for the New York City and the Brooklyn half marathons. I need to say that his running these half marat

I like being grateful, it makes me feel good. I love that telling people why you're thankful for them can make them smile, or if I'm lucky there is hugging and to be honest, I love a good hug! But, being thankful doesn't always come easily to me. Sometimes I'm too wrapped up in my own sad, stressed, anxiety filled biz to take a minute to express to others what a bunch of amazing humans they are. I find myself in this stress/anxiety/sad place every October 2nd (the anniversary of my accident) so I created a ritual-arty (its a ritual party hybrid) so I wouldn't forget. The ritual that I have with family and a few friends is that we meet at 6:30 am at the corner where the accident happened. My mom passes out red solo cups, and like magic bottles of champagne appear (by magic, I mean the cooler my dad has been hauling with him - but it always feels like magic).  My dad opens up a bottle, and we huddle around each other in a circle as he pours.  We look at each one an

So, real talk - I haven’t been feeling like myself lately. I’ve been feeling down, insecure and just kind of sad.   On top of that my back plate has been acting like kind of a jerk.  When the weather fluctuates and there is even a little bit of moisture in the air, I feel like this plate is expanding and the screws that keep said plate in place dig themselves into all of the nerve endings in my lower back. I try hard not to get too worked up about it.  This pain is not a surprise. It is my body now, and I really can’t do anything about it except allow myself an extra glass or two of malbec that night (who am I kidding, its three you guys – I give myself an extra three glasses. I got run over by a truck for God’s sake, a gal deserves a drink!) A few nights ago, I was in such a bad place that I indulged in feeling sorry for myself. Like super sorry for myself.  So much so that I didn't go straight home and instead I just wandered around my neighborhood like a creeper, mumbling abou

It's happening. You know it's happening. I know it's happening. And no ones happy about it. Summer is coming to a close. I don't know what your thoughts are, but I feel like this is super rude. Not only is it rude, but I also find it to be incredibly anxiety provoking.  Every August I beat myself up with this line of thinking: "Why didn't I go to the beach more? I haven't seen an outdoor movie! I didn't eat enough watermelon! Its official, the summer was absolutely WORTHLESS!" This thought process is totally adorable, and incredibly fun to be around. This mentality was born out of wanting to do absolutely everything. I was like the Ms. PACman of fun things - I could never stop, and I was totally insatiable! Living in New York City didn't do anything to calm that feeling, there was always so much going on, so much fun to be had, so many "once in a lifetime experiences" that I was afraid to miss! After my accident that feeling we

I had always thought that going away to camp would be the most amazing experience. I mean, if all of the movies I saw were true, it was the place where you got to make life long friends, make s'mores and kiss boys, and I loved all of those things!! I never went because I had FOMO before I even knew what FOMO was.  There would be so many things that could happen in my neighborhood that I would miss! Running bases in the street, swimming at the pool, the chance that the ice cream man would stop right in front of my house!! But, in the summer of my 32nd year, FOMO be dammed, I finally signed up for camp: boot camp. And just like I would have been at 8 years old, I was excited for 5 minutes, and then totally terrified.  I entertained an endless stream of anxieties: "What was it going to be like?  Were the other people going to be nice? Was the coach going to yell? Will we have to do gun drills?!" (Wrong boot camp, but a lot of things were running through my head, it was hard

Running was my response to every single emotion that I had.  If I was stressed out: run until all of those knots you've tied up in yourself have loosened.  If I was sad: run until the tears mingle with the sweat running down your face and you can't tell the difference between the two. If I was in a good mood: put on your favorite album and run your smiling face up and down every street in your neighborhood. Running made every bad feeling dissipate, and amplified  every good feeling. It was a fast forward button I could push to immediately feel confident and strong.  Even though I was sweaty and exhausted, I never felt more beautiful than I did when I was running.  Felt is the operative word here, kids. Felt. While I was running I used to see walkers and think to myself, "You guys! You're so close! Just a little more leg work and you could be running! Running is THE BEST!"  I could never understand why they wouldn't push themselves harder, try a little more

I usually don't have a problem with Monday's - we get along pretty well actually! I try to respect the least loved day of the week for what it brings to the table: it's the first day of a fresh work week, it's a clean slate and I think that it is the perfect day to treat myself to a fancy coffee. I thought that Monday and I were on the level.  This past Monday, we were not on the level. I had too many bags with me on the subway and was in everyone's way, the fancy coffee that I got for myself added to my awkwardness, on my way out of the subway I realized that I had probably left my work ID at home, and spent 15 minutes on a bench outside of Rockefeller Center taking everything of alllllll of my bags. By the end of my search I had most of my worldly possessions strewn out in front of me, but no ID.   I finally made it to my office, set myself up with my open laptop and a glass of water and within 30 minutes I had spilled the contents of said glass all over my ke

Small bites and little victories is the way that I like to live my life.  It makes me feel like everything is not only manageable, but reminds me that those small wins deserve to be celebrated! Your boss told you that you kicked ass in a meeting - go get yourself a glass of champagne, you star! You deserve it. (Seriously though, go pour yourself some - its good for you!!) I adopted this mindset about seven years ago, when, after a wide right turn on a morning bike ride, I found myself on the business end of an 18 wheel truck.  I woke up in the ICU after 10 hours of emergency surgery without feeling in my legs, my pelvis fractured in 5 places, all of my ribs broken, a punctured lung, and intense internal injuries.  In a few seconds I went from being an incredibly athletic and active twenty five year old brooklynite, to a broken little human who the doctors told probably wouldn't walk again. All of us have been in a position where we feel like our vertical world has gone horizont