Exercise and nutrition are two terms synonymous with good health. They go together like peanut butter and jelly, Cleopatra and Mark Antony, and Kermit and Miss Piggy. Where there is one, you most likely will find the other nearby. But do not be fooled - they are complete opposites. Exercise is the more predictable partner that produces reliable results as increasing one’s movement is usually straightforward once a plan is in place.
Read MoreA few weeks ago we officially passed a year since the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus a pandemic. Stories from the New York Times acknowledged the loss and hardship with headlines of “A Nation of Mourners,” “When Sports Shut Down,” “A Year Without Travel,” and “Loss in America.”
Read MoreWhen I was a third grade teacher, I had a student who grew tired of raising his hand in class to ask questions, so he cleverly constructed a two-dimensional arm with a hand out of aluminum and cardboard and attached it to his desk. He would raise this silver appendage whenever he wanted to say something aloud, saving himself the physical energy of waving his real hand in the air.
Read MoreI had a birthday last week. The first words out of my teenage son’s mouth were, “How does it feel being three years away from fifty?” Upon hearing this somber reminder, I held back from wrestling him to the ground as he is too tall and quick for me.
I do not remember many beginnings to the new year. On the first of January there have been mornings where I have looked in the mirror to find a puffy face staring back from the previous night’s celebrations, however it is hard to remember which year.
Read MoreI read Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America before I started taking Prozac for the second time last October. Being diagnosed with depression was a blow to my ego initially, but I hoped that by reading the dramatic adventures of memoirist Elizabeth Wurtzel, I would look at my diagnosis as a little less pathetic and a lot more intriguing.
Read MoreI am a sucker for “Where are they now?” stories. I cannot resist current photos of the “Saved By the Bell” cast or scouring the internet to find out what my favorite Olympic gymnast from 1984 is doing now. Four years ago when an article was published in The New York Times about the whereabouts of former contestants on the television show, The Biggest Loser, I read it like a thrilling novel. While most participants were successful at losing large amounts of weight while on the show, there were only a few participants that could keep the weight off years after the grand prize was awarded.
Read MoreI am not the kind of girl who ever thought she would love a push-up. But I think I might have fallen in love. Or maybe…is it just a crush?
Read MoreThe wildfires in Oregon, and all along the West Coast, are devastating. During the last six months of the Covid-19 pandemic, one only knows the date by looking at the calendar. Now, during the fires, one only knows the time of day by looking at the clock. Dates and times are becoming strangers. Sepia-colored days turn into dark, smoky nights, turn into sepia-colored days once again.
Read MoreI remember when I learned to see differently.
The summer after my freshman year in college, I stayed on campus to take an intensive art course. My home for those two weeks was the design lab where I received instruction all day and worked on two-dimensional art projects long into the night.
Read MoreWhether we like vegetables or not, we all know that we should eat them. This, much like the advice to “wash your hands after going to the bathroom” is something that we learn at a young age, never to be forgotten, albeit perhaps ignored. Even if we grow up in families that aren’t particularly healthy, there is no doubt that at some point we learn that vegetables are good for us.
Read MoreThis month marks six years since I became a personal trainer. Every year, as August rolls around, I have grown accustomed to asking myself the same question: “Do you still love it?” Each time my answer has remained the same: “Absolutely.”
Read MoreIt’s not often that I can remember what I have worn to the supermarket. Fifty-two weeks a year I shop for groceries, yet only once can I recall my outfit. Ten years ago, in a moment of bravery, I wore short jean shorts to my local grocery store in the United Kingdom. Cautiously exiting my car, I checked all directions to make sure there was no one I recognized in sight.
Read MoreI am not concerned anymore with what others think about my appearance. My opinion about my body is what matters now. Unlike the countless, miserable experiences many of us have had in dressing rooms, there was a time that I would have been happy to live in a Gap fitting room forever.
Read MoreIn the early days of dating my husband, we engaged in all sorts of question-asking to get to know one another better. As we walked along our university’s campus holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes, I will never know what prompted my twenty-year-old brain to ask him what fruits and vegetables he liked to eat. No matter how strange the question, I will forever remember his reply.
Read MoreSeven years ago I visited the Tate Modern museum on a trip to London where my favorite British clothing designer, Paul Smith, was having an exhibition. One room in the gallery housed a wall full of his special photographs and paintings. When I saw the poster above, nestled in between pictures of David Bowie and bicycles, I paused, nodded in agreement, and then took this picture.
Read MoreI would call myself a sentimental person. I may look tough on the outside, but people who know me know that tears flow easily from my eyes. Before moving to the United Kingdom, I was the person who walked through my empty house saying goodbye to each room while humming Barbra Streisand’s “Memories” aloud. I’m prone to imagining life as a movie with accompanying background music and Jack Black as my sidekick.
Read MoreThe lockdown of 2020 has brought opportunities for many different walks with my daughter. Brisk strolls on sunny, breezy days contrast those with cold and drizzle. We walked before the trees began to flower, and we are still walking now that all has bloomed. I suspect we will still be walking well into the summer. But something about these two nights below will be imprinted upon my heart forever.
Read MoreNo three words can lead to self loathing quite like “servings per package” on a bag of chips. Despite the usual suggestion of fourteen portions per container, I always seem to come up way too short.
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