Fit for Florence, #1

So, as one would assume, this blog is going to turn into a collection of rants brought to you by the quintessential single white female (QSWF if you will, you know, for future reference)--aka moi. But, as I prefaced in the first entry, it's also going to be a documentation of my journey to Florence, Italy this summer. And, thus, a new category of my posts were born; they'll be titled "Fit for Florence."

This is: A)So I can brag about how hot I'm getting, B) Going to motivate me to keep it up because I'll be able to tell you about my new discoveries and awkward workout stories, and C) So I can share my knowledge with you about this lifetstyle change I'm about to embark upon. "Lifestyle change, Lauren?" Yes. Lifestyle change. New years resolutions are for people with no discipline that can't shut their eyes in the cookie section of the grocery story past January 10. Lifestyle changes are for people who really want to make a difference with a decision they're making.

My lifestyle change will include the following:

• Physical activity on very regular basis (because obviously when I get to Florence I need to be an AiLF--let linger in your mind for a minute)
• Cutting out most desserts, cheeses, and non-lean meats--Let me also vouch that if we go to get mexican food and I order a chimichanga smothered in white queso you may, by no means, judge me, you ass.
• Consuming more vegetables and preservative free/organic products--On a serious note: preservatives and shit are bad for you; vegetables, fruits, and whole grains are good for you. That's why I'm doing this. Please refrain from asking me stupid questions like: "I just don't understand why you shop at Whole Foods so much," or "Do you even have a reason for that?" Yes. I do. Don't be a douche. We'll talk later when I have an iron immune system and an infallible glow to my skin.

And probably some other things that I've forgotten to mention. So, let's get to getting fit.

To be frank, Running and I have never gotten along--unless I was running to a building that had a neon letters reading either "Pizza" or "Fresh Baked Cookies." Despite my recurring efforts to make it as far as my little legs could carry me,  I always end up sounding like an asthmatic overweight ten year old and eventually having to stop and melodramatically throw my hands onto my knees in defeat. Not anymore, no sir. Today I, essentially, ran three whole miles. I walked a very minimal amount hence "essentially." 

While I was running, it became clear to me what the key was to running...you have to shut yourself out. If you don't shut yourself out, then your brain constantly whispers in your wind burned ears things such as: "You really need to slowdown, champ," and "GOD YOUR LEGS HURT QUICK, STOP BEFORE THEY AMPUTATE THEMSELVES." That second one was less of a whisper, more of a yell.

As I was running today I began to feel something new. Don't get crazy, I just started to feel--great. I was enjoying my run. My lungs weren't pumping themselves into oblivion, my legs didn't hurt, and I didn't feel like passing cars were rubber necking at awkward style of running (which can sometimes look like I have no bones in my hands and that there are cinder blocks in both of my shoes). Finally--I feel like I can do this. I am so pumped. 

Quintessential Posting Prelude

What a day. In fact, what a year. I realize that the threshold for 2012 has already been stepped across, but I can’t help but to sit and stare back into the eyes of 2011. So much happened. So much didn’t happen. It was a milestone year, just as I expect this following year to be.

It’s 1:30 in the morning, and I’m sifting through my Italy photos and listening to a friend serenade me sentimental songs that I stumbled across on their music website. It was a mistake to discover the gift of his voice because now every time I look at him I’m going to have a love sonnet on the tip of my tongue.

Back to the original point–I’m sifting through my Italy photos. It was such a life changing trip. I didn’t know it then but it would be a trip to shape the next year of my life–and without a doubt, my entire future. The culture, the history, the beauty, the detail, the heritage…it was more than enough to take in during my two week rendezvous (especially in the middle of the fauxmance I was at the time a part of).

It’s funny, that. How an event can completely change the course of events for the rest of your life.

Even more unbelievable than the architecture and petina of the buildings throughout eroded Venice and ancient Rome is the idea that I am preparing myself to spend (roughly) 90 days in the country that I fell in love with six months ago. Sometimes I wake up and wonder if this is real life or if it’s simply some scheme my best friend and I came up with at the P.F. Changs host stand last summer in the midst of a post-Italy high.

It was, in fact. But it’s gone from scheme to reality.

I think I just stopped breathing for a second in disbelief. Now’s one of those times when I feel like this situation I’ve gotten myself into cannot possibly be my life. Me. A 20 year old who hails from Arkansas and has had enough dreams to span the great wall of China since she was seven. I’m going to Florence,Italy with my best friend to intern with a mens designer in five months. Quick. Pinch me.

Side note: I’m three scissor snips away from cutting a heart out of a piece of folded paper and glittering a valentine for this musician friend I have. I may just unfriend him on facebook so i can friend him all over again.

I think I’m going to make a new resolution starting right now: a blog. every day. I think i can do it. I mean we’re only five daysinto the year, right? And what better way to document my thoughts and my journey to Italy than through this?

Plus, I’m great at ranting. Just you wait.

Writing is one of my hidden passions. I think I’ll just see where this blog takes me. Upon a re-read of my past posts, I think I’m ready for this.

I may need to rename my blog “ArkanSASS,” for the amount of attitude that is going to exude through my posts.

The real posts start tomorrow. And I’m working a double shift so I’m sure the material will be nice and rich.

Just like the my future husband.

Just kidding. Maybe.