Cleaning the Couch

One of my cats, Jack, urinated on our couch as soon as we moved into our apartment. Try as we might, we were never able to get the smell of cat urine out of the cushions. Over Christmas break, I asked my sister, Kelly, to help me try to clean the couch cushions by washing them in the shower since they would not fit in our washing machine. That part was ok, but drying the cushions was another matter since they did not fit in our dryer, either. The following is an exchange in which I was telling Kelli about this.

Me: I feel like an idiot over these couch cushions.

Kelli: They will dry. Eventually.

Me: I just hope they don't smell too weird by then.

Kelli: Maybe not—it was vinegar too!

Me: This is true. Vinegar and a little baking soda; I decided to “volcano” the stains out.

Kelli: I wish there was a video.

Me: There wasn't much to watch. I put a little water in the tub, sprinkled in the baking soda, and then added vinegar, but it was diluted so there was a quick fizz and then nothing.

Kelli: I am sad about this. I will envision a volcanic explosion of cleaning solution on the actual couch.

Me: Well, in an alternative universe...I added the vinegar and there was a monstrous bubbling, like a huge pot of water was boiling. The water turned bright green, and there were huge, churling waves.

Kelli: I like this couch cleaning. Fun times!

Me: I added the cushions one at a time to even louder, angrier roars. The bubbles were so strong that I could barely force the cushions into the tub! Bravely, Kelly leaned against my back, pushing me—and by extension, the cushions—into the roiling waves.

After half an hour of whirling and roaring, the water slowed to a simmer and we were able to rest. As the water calmed, we could see traces of stains begin seeping away from the cushions. Finally, the cushions were glistening white and the water had taken on a stained, yellowish hue.

Better?

Kelli: That at least got an actual laugh out loud.

Pushing for Twenty

I love Natalie Tran’s videos. One of my favorites is “I Hate Past Natalie,” and I love it because it’s so true. We tend to live in the moment, thinking only of what we want right now, with little regard for what we’ll need tomorrow or the day after.

When I want to make a life change, it can seem overwhelming until I remember that life is made up of lots of little decisions. Should I eat the whole bag of M&M’s now, or stretch them over the course of a few days? Should I bother to do my laundry today, or leave it for tomorrow? Change isn’t about making one big decision; change is about consistency, about consistently choosing over and over to be who and what you want to be. I can wake up tomorrow and decide I’m going to lose ten pounds, but that doesn’t mean I’ll do it. What really determines my success is whether I wake up tomorrow and decide to lose ten pounds, and then wake up the day after that and again decide to lose ten pounds, foregoing the extra piece of toast at breakfast and the mid-afternoon soda for two, and then three, and then four days in a row. All of that change is much more manageable if I focus on one day at a time.

The same thing applies to the gym. It’s easy to decide I’ll go. It’s easy to get dressed and grab my iPod and step onto the machine. But it’s just as easy to decide running one mile is good enough. It’s easy to decide that fifteen minutes on the elliptical is close enough to twenty.

I’m past the initial thrill of training for a 5k. And now that my work schedule conflicts with Lindsay’s and my workout schedule, it’s harder to remain devoted to running. Yesterday at the gym when I hit the ten minute mark, and I was close to completing my mile, I was tempted to quit. But then I wondered who I wanted to be today. Because shaving off five minutes on one Tuesday isn’t bad, but it so easily becomes a habit, and then you’re shaving five minutes off your workout every day. Do I want to be someone who can run for twenty minutes, or do I want to be someone who runs for ten?

I choose today who I want to be tomorrow, and the person I want to be tomorrow is a person who can run for twenty minutes straight, and can manage two miles in that time. So I pushed through the stitch in my side and the sweat in my eyes and made it to the full fifteen minutes.

Tomorrow I will push for twenty.