Wow, so it’s been a few days, huh? Time sure does fly when you’re planning a wedding and stuff.
It’s funny, because the goal was for my “big day” to take place in a bar — literally, in a bar, both the private ceremony and reception — because I wanted everything to be, for lack of a better descriptive word, “chill.” Laid back. Relaxed. Almost like a regular old night out with friends and family — but you know, with cocktail dresses and glitter and pink stilettos.
And yet wedding planning has completely taken over my life. There’s shoes and dresses and food and cake and chocolate (duh, chocolate!) and music and rabbis (rabbis who incorporate very little religion and will perform the ceremony before sunset — a no-no in traditional Jewish faith) and DJs and hotels and jewelry and beers and wines and pictures.
See what I mean? Chaotic. There are moments in which I feel as though I am practically spinning into outer space.
But then, I come back down to earth. It sometimes takes a moment, but amidst all the commotion, the meetings, the frenetic mornings, afternoons and nights, I remember what it’s all about.
The guy who loves me so much that he’d probably throw me into a lake.
Our story goes something like this. Noah and I met in college — the very first day of college, in fact. His roommate was a friend of mine, and so when I went to say hello on my inaugural day at the University of Michigan, there he was. He didn’t know it then, but — despite a long distance relationship that I was in — I knew that I was gonna marry that boy right then and there.
This is what we looked like. Oh, how far we’ve come.
There are still many weeks to go before the big day itself, but in that time, I plan on shifting my focus just slightly.
Be calm. Be level-headed. I’d hardly call myself a bridezilla — I don’t even have bridesmaids to zill. But even internal freak outs, the ones that take place within the confines of my head over absolutely nothing (re: why would you tell them we didn’t want salmon?) need to stop. Party planning is hard. It’s tough work, and it takes a lot of time. Yet this labor of love is coming to a close, and I want to enjoy as much of it as I possibly can — even in the sometimes stressful moments before.
It’s not imperfection. It’s personality. If I wanted a fancy shmancy wedding and a big ball gown, I’d have planned it. That’s so far from my “dream” wedding though — not that I had one in mind. (Had I dreamed of a wedding at a bar as a child, well, I might have been admitted into AA.)
The bottom line is that, beforehand and on the night of our marriage, there may be moments that don’t go as planned. As a self-proclaimed Type-A person, that’s a hard pill to swallow. Imperfection. Out of control. In my day to day, these are unacceptable terms.
My wedding has so much personality though, and it’s so completely reflective of the relationship that Noah and I have built together. Easy. Unselfish. Full of wine. At the end of the day, there will not be imperfections — there will be a whole lotta personality though.
Just keep running. You can take this literally or metaphorically, but for the sake of my little space on the web, let’s go with the former. Not that I’ve ever been all that concerned with numbers on a scale, but as most brides would probably admit, I want to both look and, perhaps more importantly, feel good on my wedding day. And so, I’ve continued to focus on running despite the cold, the snow, the still-too-dark mornings.
One in particular was this past Saturday, when I met my cousin on the East River for 6 slow, icy miles. Even with the chill, the morning was perfect. The wintery air kept many other outdoor athletes burrowed in the great indoors, giving us plenty of space on the paths and a tranquil atmosphere in which to
Central Park has been equally quiet as of late, and so on mornings when I’m able to sneak in a run (pending a thermometer that reads above 20 degrees), I’ve been able to clear my head and just think. About what, of course, changes from moment to moment. On some of these mornings, I’ve let the music do the talking. On others, I shut off the tunes and let my mind wander. You can’t really go wrong either way, if you ask me.
On mornings when I wimp out (umm, maybe like yesterday and today), I call on my good friend Jillian Michaels. She doesn’t know it yet, but we’re basically best friends. In fact, I spend more time with Jillian before the hour of 8:30am than I probably ever have with anyone else in my life, unless you count Noah, and he’s usually still fast asleep in bed. That doesn’t count.
The honest breakdown of my living room workouts as of late is this: It’s easy to submit to simple fitness routines when you don’t have an actual instructor screaming in your face. Even Jillian. Even I’ve been known to pop a squat on my yoga mat and chill out while she’s doing actual squats on my iPad screen.
With the impending wedding though, I’m trying. I’m trying oh so very hard to make it out for my morning run despite the horribly cold air. I’ve been trying oh so very hard to grunt through every push-up, every lunge, every kick, punch and jump rope.
Can I see a difference in my body? Ehh. Not so much. For me, it’s more about the mental aspects of a holy-calves workout. It’s about knowing I did all I could to push myself. It’s about knowing I set some challenge for the day and then went after it with all the strength I could. It’s about knowing that there will be challenges beyond the ones I set for myself — the ones I have absolutely zero control over. It’s about knowing that, with a clear head, I can get through those too.