Real Strife vs the Celebrity Life – NYC
This past weekend I was in NJ & NYC for a run and to visit family. (Stay tuned for my Jersey recap. It was an epic run.) Sunday was supposed to be a Central Park 4 miler. However, the evening before enticed by wonderful conversation and an equally enchanting liquor selection, I indulged in a bottle of aged French wine and- well- there went the neighborhood.
I try to get to New York quarterly for either business or pleasure. I stay in 1 of 2 places. The first with family in a gorgeous yoga-studio-zen-den inspired spacious apartment near NOHO with vast expanses of glass overlooking bustling streets from one of the largest patio decks in the entire city. The other apartment is a swanky Upper West Side bachelor pad with plush overstuffed sofas, wood paneled walls and windows framing the most spectacular views from a ridiculously high floor.
Every few months I come plopping in with my toddler and all the accoutrement that comes with her. And snacks. So many snacks. I pack more snacks than clothes. At the Upper West Side apartment they have coffee and tea – incredible selections of organic, free trade, fair trade, hauled-by-Gypsies-through-the-Himalayan-mountains coffee. But you won’t find a bag of turkey jerky for miles. One common denominator among WASPs is their love of condiments. They will have a $30,000 refrigerator that does everything but steam clean your arm pits and all it has in it is a relish jar and a bottle of Perrier.
Thankfully, the lower Manhattan homestead is family – and home to a really good chef. So, in addition to a space that is fit for the Dali Lama, the food is delish. I snuck a large spoonful of the most incredible organic honey that you’d swear was hand massaged from the ass of a pet bee. Heaven.
While feeling the NYC vibes I read a little bit about Gwyneth Paltrow and her “lifestyle” brand Goop. I’m a fan. Truly. There is something magical about eating clean, natural, organic food then having a beautiful Swedish doctor bring over a duck fat enema and suck it all out of you.
I always come home from my travels tired but energized and always thankful. This morning I woke up and thought, I should make myself a cup of detox yogi tea, steam a little nut milk with coconut oil and mediate for a while. That thought was ruined by reality – the dog was standing by the door with her legs crossed and a look of desperation on her face. The toddler had been in the bathroom a dangerously long time and my “detox” tea turned out to be “mothers milk” tea and I had no desire to re-lactate.
I thought about Gwyneth in her size 00 Stella McCartney mumu sitting at the table drinking her yogi tea while crossing her ridiculously thin legs.
I, on the other hand, was standing next to the sink in stretched out running shorts watching my neighbor sneak a cigarette he keeps hidden from his wife in the garden hose crank while my dog relieved herself in the yard a few feet away.
My favorite writer, Erma Bombeck said, “The grass is always greener… over the septic tank.” It’s true. Gwen can keep her 18 karat gold hand weights. My child weighs 35 lbs and I lift her every day for free. Don’t compare – just enjoy. Take a little bit and give a lot more. I’ve loved my adventures running all over. I’m running New England in May and then I’m DONE with the entire East Coast. I will celebrate with a toast to Gwyneth from my plastic glass of boxed wine. Cheers.
