Me, My Career and a Stripper Pole

When I was first making this list, I briefly considered adding "Take a poledancing class" as one of the to-dos. Hell, it seemed like everyone and their grandmas are doing it and it's definitely something I wouldn't do on a typical day. But after that thought passed, I realized that there are lots of other things I'd rather do than to learn how to work the pole. (For example, shoot a rifle.) And honestly, that's not my kind of sexuality. My kind of sexuality is more like "Wow, did you memorize that whole encyclopedia? That's freakin sexy." Haha, just kidding. Kinda.

So when I got an email from one of the top editors last week that they needed more people to be in a photoshoot for a story about a woman getting the nerve to take a poledancing class, my initial reaction was to laugh. And I did exactly that in my reply. But I also said, "Sure, I'll do it." Why?...Why not? I believe that when an opportunity presents itself, you take it (as long as it's not illegal, anyway).

To be honest, a part of me thought I was just going to stand there and look pretty, while the subject of the story was the one who had to do all the pole work. Wrong. We got to the S Factor studio where we were all lead to a very purple room with shiny poles and mats. After a warm up that involved Pilates and yoga-like core work, I found myself learning how to do some moves that I'd be embarrassed to even recreate ever.

And then came the pole. At this point I was beyond concerned about looking ridiculous. (I mean, would you be if you smacked your ass in front of your coworkers 5 minutes into the class?) I was just concerned about flying off the pole and looking idiotic. But turns out, it's not impossible and I managed to do a few, um, rounds.

So there you have it. My intro to the stripper pole, in case all the backup careers fall through. Pictures, you ask? Hell no. But if you look out for next next month's issue of the magazine, you might see me in the background.

"Each step is one less step you have to take."

That's what an old-ish man told his running partner as she (and I) made the halfway mark at the Sgt. Keith A. Ferguson 5k this morning. Technically this wasn't my first 5k, but it was the first one I ran through its entirety -- no walking breaks!

Total time: 33:51 seconds. Bizarre, considering I ran/walked this one in about 31 minutes but I'm just glad I fought every urge to stop running and walk instead and finished it. One step at a time. Thanks for the advice, old runner man.

Speaking of old people, there were runners of all ages this morning. The female overall winner was a 16-year-old (ah, to be an energetic youth), while there were 70-79 year-olds who finished in less time than I did. To be honest, one of the things that kept me going was seeing kids as young as 6 and old people run past me. If they can do it, why can't I? (Also, kudos for being ridiculously fit.)

Week Without Coffee - DONE!

I don't know why I chose to give up coffee as part of my to-do list. Yes, I like a challenge, and yes, a part of me likes to inflict pain on myself, but I also like to think that I wanted to test myself in case I ever got addicted to something and needed rehab. I know now that rehab and withdrawal from serious substances must be AWFUL. (I'm rooting for you Lindsay Lohan!)

I started my Week Without Coffee on a Saturday. I figured with two days of the weekend under my belt, I'd be more capable of facing the work week sans cafe. Did it really make a difference? Meh.

Because I knew I would forget about this whole blogging on a regular basis thing, I kind of live-blogged (does Google Buzz count as blogging? Sure.) the entire week.

Monday, Day 3 of Week Without Coffee. I want to cry. I want chocolate. (Honestly, I don't think Monday was the hardest day. I was just half asleep most of the time.)
Day 4 of Week Without Coffee. 1 cup of black tea at 7:30, 1 withdrawal headache at 10. Nice.

Day 5. Woke up with a headache, first thought: iced coffee, mmmm. I'm not caving! (I lay in bed ready to give up on this, I swear. But as much as I love coffee, I am also hard-headed. I did not cave.)

Day 6. At the elevator on my way to my desk, I want to cry. Upon opening my inbox, I want to cry. Cofffeeeeeeeee. (Did I mention I wanted to cry? But at the end of that day, I surprisingly got a lot done. Random burst of productivity or was I actually getting by without my preferred caffeine dose?)

Day 7. I'm pretty sure I'm craving comfort food as a substitute for coffee. I can't stand tea right now. (I remember having a cup of black tea - my 2nd - on my desk and wanting to fling it against the wall. But I didn't. I also didn't finish it. I also skipped a new workout I really wanted to try because I was exhausted, hungry and had no patience for hoity-toity men who do yoga without their shirts on. I want to workout, not have a fashion show, damnit. Be flamboyant in your own space. I considered getting an iced coffee because technically the last time I had coffee was the Friday morning the week before, but I didn't. Instead I had some Chipotle. No regrets.)

You'd think after all this the first thing I'd do on Saturday morning was have a cup of coffee. But nope. I had a banana and black tea and went for a morning run. AND THEN, I had coffee with my pancakes. Aaand then I passed out on my couch having barely finished my cup. Ah, gotta love having a high caffeine tolerance. 

What did I get out of all this? I learned that if I ever need to go to rehab, I would cry. But I might also make it. And that if I didn't have coffee, I'd compensate with chocolate, cake and other junk food. I'll stick to coffee.