What I Would do with my Lottery Earnings.

Hullo!

I am really sore.  Like ridiculously sore.  12512311_10100697279453363_6901348544062139_n

I taught a Body Pump class first thing in the morning so I could do my “video” for Les Mills. We all call it “videos” despite the fact that that language alone makes you a strong candidate to be old, but apparently, none of us really seem to mind that a whole heck of a lot. Anyhoo, I did that class at 6am, and I’m really trying this whole morning thing out. The hard thing with that is that I’m still not getting to bed at a great time, so I’m also trying to get in bed at decent hours. I got in bed last night before midnight and am not yet falling asleep at my desk, so maybe this is a win?

So, I’m sure you’ve heard and heard and heard again how intense this Powerball thing is getting here.  The winnings are estimated at up over a billion dollars, and it makes it tempting to play.  I mean, even celebrities are getting in on it, which I sort of resent, but whatever.  I

I  haven’t played, and not sure if I will, but in my off time, I’ve sort of fantasized about what it might be like if I won, right?  And it really isn’t an interesting or particularly noble list, it’s practical.  Maybe that’s selfish.

I’d pay off my student loans.  Probably pay off my sister’s and pay off a few friends.  If you were to sit with us over drinks or coffee, eventually, student loans would come up.  “Hey guys, I better head out.  I’m watching the budget – these loans!”  It would be nice to hang out with friends my age and not have this thing just hanging over our heads.

I’d put $2-$3 million away for our retirement.  Sounds lofty now, but totally manageable if you win the powerball right?  Then we don’t have to worry about outliving our retirement like our parents kind of have to cause they live long af.

Housecleaner.  I am a terrible housekeeper.  I would LOVE some help.  Maybe that makes me a brat, but if I had the money this very individual second, I would totally do it.

Chef.  I would love a chef whose special talent was to make my favorite terrible foods healthy.  And all my favorite healthy foods in their proper portions so I only had to do it (cook) for enjoyment and not for sustenance or making sure I had lunch for the next day.  The biggies for me would be big elaborate salads, soups, and sushi.  I would LOVE to always have sushi on tap.

What would you do if you won the Powerball?

The case for wearables.

I got a Fitbit after I registered me and Austin for one as a wedding present.

Correction: I did not register for anything.  I owe my life to Chelsie, my bridesmaid, who, when I was overwhelmed registering, went to Target and she registered me for everything I needed, with a few requests from me.

So once I got the Fitbit, the Fitbit Flex, I was absolutely hooked to that thing.  At $99, it wasn’t a huge investment, but it really shifted the way I did things.  I synced it to my computer and my phone, and immediately started adding friends on their network.  Though I was already pretty active, I was able to actually visualize how much movement I was getting throughout the day.  I could figure out when were peak times for me, and what tough times were for me (Sundays when I didn’t meet my running friends and wanted to watch Bravo all day.)  I started getting really competitive with my friends and was really impressed with how good the customer service was when I lost my Fitbit drunk twice.  Once at my sister’s wedding afterparty, and once at Elon Homecoming.  Hence the sober month I’m taking right now.

After my time with the Flex, I upgraded to the Surge.  I felt like it was sort of weird to wear my Flex at the same time I was wearing my Garmin – like I just had too much on.  The Flex boasted GPS as well as step tracking, so once I got it, and witnessed personally how quickly the Surge hooked up to satellites, it really rendered my Garmin pretty obsolete.

The Fitbit Surge. Great as your everyday wearable, but also awesome for runs and cross training.
The Fitbit Surge. Great as your everyday wearable, but also awesome for runs and cross training.

The case for wearables/should I get one?

I’m already active.  But a Fitbit, or similar products (Garmin has ’em, Pebble, and Jawbone are some of the big players in the game), really, to me increases your awareness.  You may think you’re active, when in reality, you get one 25-minute run in a day, and sit at your desk the rest of the day.  While your run is excellent, it’s not going to cut it always, and you have to keep moving around to meet your daily minimums.  These tools are awesome for figuring out where you are, and where you might need to go.

So are you a person that loves apps?  Do you love data?  Do numbers really speak to you?  Then a “wearable” is for you.  If that stuff isn’t really your jam, I always encourage figuring out what your “love language” is as it pertains to working out and keeping yourself on track and accountable.  But for me, counting, visualizing, and competing works.

Do you use a wearable?  Wear a Fitbit?  

How long have you been wearing one?  

What do you like/dislike about it?

Happy 2016! And crop tops!

First off, HAPPY 2016!  What did you do to ring in the New Year?

We did our usual, we threw a little shindig for our friends, but if you could believe it, I was having so much fun I forgot to take pictures of the night, and you’re just going to have to take my word that it happened 🙂

The highlight of the night was Austin and some of the boys cracking open some Chinese liquor that Austin got from the last time he was in China, from a vendor.  They all took a shot from the bottle, sniffed it, put a drop on my tongue, and decided that this was not the alcohol for me.

But shouting out the countdown was really fun, and staying up and talking late to friends, especially when it seemed like we were sort of every which way for the holidays.

Time for a right turn as we zoom, head first, into 2016.

How do you feel about crop tops?

I love crop tops.  I don’t get to wear them as much as I used to because I’m an adult and self-adornment by crop top is highly discouraged in any professional setting.  But I was gifted an extremely cute crop-top from my boss at a studio in Cary, and my love for crop tops was reignited a few weeks ago.

But, I wasn’t always that way.  Until I lost a few pounds, I was convinced that crop tops were only for skinny people with gorgeous stomachs.  I waited until I lost a really decent amount of weight to venture into H&M and I purchased my first crop swing, a top that you seriously could wear with anything and look good.  It wasn’t until recently that I realized something.

My body, your body?  It’s not for someone else’s consumption.  Therefore, if you’d like, you can wear a crop top at any size or shape, with reckless abandon.   Because what someone else might think doesn’t matter!

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Pretty sure this was my first crop top 🙂

I work hard in the gym.  But these days, I’m really trying to work harder on not being so hard on myself.  Meaning, not spending time looking at my tummy in the mirror, turning to the side, and checking to see if I’m developing a beer gut.  Not really picking myself apart as much.

How was your New Year’s Eve?

Will you be wearing a crop top this year?  

Christmas 2015

Is anyone else as skeeved out by this warm weather as I am?

I know things are sort of varying if you’re reading in the US.  It’s hot as balls – literal balls – here in North Carolina, and yesterday, when I went for a run and did a little bit of speed work, I was dripping, summer-style, in my eyes and in my mouth.

So Austin and I have been making horrible jokes about how the high is going to be 120 degrees every day this summer, all the while feeling really nervous about global warming.

via Instagram
via Instagram

I’ve also heard that this is maybe like an El Nino type thing, and we could be fine. But all I’m saying is that I’m not trying to live through hellpocolypse ’16. So please, mother nature, if you can hear me, I just want you to know that I drinking out of non-disposable bottles and I recycle. So give me some good points for that, pretty please?

Christmas ’15

So, we’ve had a sort of eventful last week or so.  In addition to work being busy (as usual), Austin’s grandmother passed leading up to Christmas, and the week was full of a lot of phone calls, a day off work, and a lot of busy things with family.  We are at peace with her death.  She lived a really long life.  I enjoyed writing her letters, and actually, the Saturday before she fell ill (this is literal hours) we got a card from her.  She rocks.

So instead of heading down to Charlotte or Mint Hill for the holiday, we laid really low, and on Christmas Eve, we went to Irregardless Café for some vegan dinner.

Irregardless Cafe
Irregardless Cafe

I almost ordered something different, but I went with my standby, the vegan shepard’s pie. We drove around, and settled in and listened to a little bit of this week’s episode of Serial. Which, by the way, if anyone would like to discuss Serial, I really would love your insight. All I will say, so I don’t spoil it, is that Bowe’s logic is seriously screwy.

The night before Christmas, we watched A Christmas Story, and listened to my neighbors music.  They’re big reggae fans evidently.

Christmas Day, I woke up super early, and throughout the night, my neighbors continued playing their music.  They’re old hippies and really sweet though, so I can’t quite bring myself to go over there and crush their spirits.

Austin and I finally dragged ourselves out of bed, and managed to go for a long walk.  I made some dinner – salads to counter our nonstop holiday eating, and we walked again.

The next day, the day after Christmas Austin and I sort of split up.  He worked on the yard, and I went to Starbucks, and then took myself on a gorgeous run near our old condo.  I love that area because it’s always sidewalked, and I get to go house shopping in an area where it would not be financially advisable to buy.

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It was warm enough for no shirt, so I continued the workout in the driveway, until I decided to finally clean my car.

And THAT was Christmas ’15.

How was your Christmas ’15.  Was Santa good to you?

Why I Loc’ed Up

If you’re new here and you don’t know what I look like, too damned bad.

Just kidding.

Me and AndrewThis is me and my friend Andrew at a brewery a few weeks ago.  You’ll notice a few things about me.  One, that I am stunningly gorgeous.  And two, that I have an entire head full of dreadlocks, or locs as they’re commonly referred to.

Kidding again about the stunningly gorgeous part too.  That actually took very much premeditation.  Like I actually showered on the day we took that photo.

But I’m getting off-topic.

So, people are really curious about my hair.  Less so these days, because locs are definitely far more common than they were, but the questions I’ve gotten about this hair, ranging from questions of hygiene to even my sexuality (yes) have been plentiful.

So here’s how I came to the style.

So when I was a wee junior in high school, I had literally done every style that there is to do on a little black girl.  As a kid, my mother had relaxed our hair.  We graduated to getting it relaxed at the salon, and then in the summer time, my mom began to allow us to do box braids.  When it was time to get the braids out, we’d stay up, all night sometimes, taking the braids out, washing, and combing our hair, only to spend another day in the african hair braiding salon for them to reinstsall.

After that, we’d be in agony for like two days waiting for the braids to loosen up because they’d be snatched up so tight.  It’s truly a wonder that I have any edges at all because the women braiding really were trying to make it a point that that didn’t happen.

This is a loose guesstimate, because I really didn’t realize the magnitude of my decision, but I want to say that early on in the year of 2003, I decided that I was 100% done with having my hair pulled, yanked on, burned off, and in general, sitting still for upwards of 8 hours, waiting for a style to be finished.  To this day I can’t sit still, so I’m not exactly sure how I did it when I was so young.  But I was really sick of it, and I told my mom I wanted dreadlocks.  I didn’t know much of anything about the style, which, today, sounds really bratty and sort of trustafarian of me, but I just knew I was done with conventional hairstyles.

Now, at the time, locs were not at all popular, and were mostly being worn by men, and by women of color who were either musicians, or stereotypically, lesbians.  (Which is where the comments about my sexuality came from in the early 00s.)  My father was fairly indifferent to the decision, however, he insisted, after I attempted to start them on myself, that I see a pro.  My mother, on the other hand, was really against the decision, since she associated the style with being unclean and some unsavory characters she’d interacted with in New York.  But we went to a pro who trimmed the relaxed and damaged hair off of the ends, and began to twist my entire head.  It was short.  Like really short.  And I wish I had photos of how long it was, but again, I didn’t realize how cool it would be to document, and I never thought to take a picture.

Prom

This is me at the prom in early 2005, probably about 1.5ish, 2 years into the process?

The thing that was really cool about starting the locs, and keeping them, was that similarly to life, you don’t realize the growth is there until it’s there, in your face.  When I started the locs, they were teeny-tiny, and I didn’t have anything to hide my face with.  I felt really exposed, and my dang scalp was cold.

With each wash, and then each year, they got longer and longer.  They’re long enough now to pull back, and for my wedding, I was able to pull it into a gorgeously complex style that served, not only as fierce wedding hair, but also doubled as a face lift cause this stuff is HEAVY.

The significance, since I’ve started my locs, has shifted a lot.  Locs went from being a style of convenience for me to being something more, something from which I draw a lot of pride, and I’ve fielded a lot of (good) questions about the process.  I think about cutting it sometimes, especially during the summer when it’s hot, or I feel like I need a change.  I think about cutting it, and starting it again, but I’m not sure what the future has for me.

What questions do you have about the hairstyle?

Cheri’s Most Fascinating People of 2015

Before we start, will you do me a favor?  If you like this post, share with yo frands.  Then like me.  Then follow me.  Or tweet me!  I’ll try not to be annoying about this, but I’ll remind you about once a week if you’re new here and you want to read more about how I can’t sit still.

I totally stole this from Taylor, and was laughing so hysterically, that I had to replicate my own.  We’re counting down backwards from 5, so get really pumped, number one is gonna be good!

5.  Rachel Dolezal.  This one really confuses me.  Part of me feels a deep need to make fun of her.  Part of me wants to slap her.  Part of me feels sorry for her.  If you’ll recall, Rachel was our friend who pretended to be a black woman for some time.  It sounds to me like she’s got some pathology in there (hellloooo social work degree), but I can’t be too sure.  But if that’s the case, she really needs to be under the close care of a professional.  Shoutout to this moment…

rachel-lied-about-race BOLTS FROM INTERVIEW

4.  Justin Bieber.  This fool went from 0-hero after a really thinly-veiled attempt to curry our favor with a roast on Comedy Central.  It worked.  He’s back.  At at last glance he was like songs 1, 2, and like 4 on Spotify’s United States Top 100 and Global Top 50.  That is ridiculous.  My words to you, Mr. Bieber are DON’T FUCK THIS UP.  You have been touched by an angel.  Take this opportunity and RUN WITH IT.  And stop wearing those long shirts.  I love you but no.

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3. Ben Carson.  I thought, just by nature of him being a doctor by trade, that this would make him smart.  But…some of the things he says?  It’s beyond confusing.  Like…why?  Also thrown in there are Donald Trump and his supporters.  Fascinating as in…why are you a thing?  HOW are you a thing?  An honorable mention goes to the BMW driver who had a Ben Carson sticker on his or her car.  WHY WOULD YOU STICK A STICKER ON THE BUMPER OF YOUR CAR THAT COSTS ABOUT 2 YEARS OF SCHOOLING AT A PRIVATE LIBERAL ARTS UNIVERSITY?

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2. Zola and her weekend adventure in Florida.  This tale contained horror.  Trafficking.  Suspense.  And was told all in a series of Tweets.  Did Zola embellish?  Sure.  Do I still eat it up with a spoon?  Yes.  Zola actually responded to a tweet I sent her regarding her interest in starting locs.  I respect her hustle.

And finally…

1.  Black Twitter.  Black Twitter is a wondrous place with zero chill whatsover.  A few examples?

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Honorable mentions go to:

Curtis Jackson a.k.a. 50 Cent.  Bankrupt?  Orrrr you just don’t want to pay your child support?  Pay that woman, Curtis.

People who leave their carts out in the parking lot at Harris Teeter.  Still really intriguing.

Rob Kardashian.  Taylor mentioned this.  WHERE ARE YOU ROB?!  Are you ok?

On that note, Aaron Carter.  His Twitter is a strange, strange place.

Old people on social media.  Most specifically, our mothers.

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via Tumblr

Who are your most intriguing people of 2015?

Athletes foot. ON MY HANDS.

It’s been a really long time since I’ve talked about gross things that can befall you when you go to the gym.  Mainly because that stuff doesn’t faze me as much as it should, and because I want to encourage you guys to work out, not scare you off.

With working out, you are, for the most part doing something awesome for yourself.  But the nature of doing things that involve sweat and being in close quarters with someone else means that sometimes, really gross things happen to you.  You catch a cold, pinkeye, you rub the skin out from under your bra, you start to be able to smell yourself when you wait just a smidge too long after your workout to take a shower…you get it. [Side note: every. single. one. of the above. has happened to me.]

So, a few weeks ago, my palms began to itch.  First off, in Haiti, that’s a good thing.  It means you’re coming into money, which I’m totally fine with.  And one time, my palms starting itching really badly before I got a new job, so I knew something good was going to happen.

Then I figured it was just my acne medication.  After years of battling with problem skin, I’m still using Proactiv even though I’m no longer 16 and it’s sort of expensive.

After a few days of the itchy palms, I looked down, and saw this.

Athlete's Foot.jpg

It appeared that my skin was peeling.  And it got much worse than this.  Like way worse. I backed off, tried to apply the Proactiv with my fingertips, and even tried to crowdsource the info.  Which is disgusting and TMI, but I couldn’t get an appointment with Ginger, my dermatologist forEVER.

It wasn’t until one of the trainers wandered into my office a few mornings ago that it started to click. She pointed out that it seemed to stem from an area around my wrists, which meant that it might be related to something I’d touched with both hands.

Something I’d touched with both hands….what do I touch with both hands? A SPIN BIKE FOR MY WEDNESDAY MORNING CLASSES?!

I’d picked up a fungus from a spin bike.

After I figured that out, it was pretty much an easy fix – I bought a few tubes of lotramin and some spa gloves and it was cleared up within a week. But talk about gross/embarrassing?

What the heck gym? I thought we were cool! And then you betray me?

So in addition to strep-pinkeye-chafing-bacne…you can count Athlete’s Foot not on your feet as one of the perks of your gym membership.

I really don’t want to hear about what you’ve picked up from the gym if I’m being completely honest.  Instead, please share with me what you ate for breakfast this morning!

I think I “ate” a smoothie made with old frozen berries, Trop 50, some Whole Foods protein powder, and a handful of spinach!

When did you become aware of your body?

I have been really struggling with my body this week.  Which seems silly.  My body is capable of amazing things.  I’ve run marathons.  I teach multiple classes a week, sometimes multiple classes a day.  Sometimes, I look in the mirror in the morning, and see something awesome.  And yet, this week, when Aunt Flo decided to visit a few days early, and I put on a teeny bit of weight after what I felt was an amazing week at the gym, everything went to hell, and I became uncomfortably aware of how much physical space I was taking up.

I found the responses to last week’s post really interesting.  IRL, as well as online, I heard a lot from you guys (which I love).  However, the most intriguing responses came from the folks who’d shared on it in an online Trail and Ultra Running group I’ve been a part of.  Many folks commended my friend for calling me out, as they should have.  A few folks commended me for admitting what an asshole I’d been.  And more than most admitted to feeling poorly about their own bodies.  Some admitted to doing what I’d done, turning the things they felt were negative about themselves into rules that dictate what others should wear, and how they should wear it.

What’s so interesting about this group is that these folks are capable, strong humans.  Some of them truly do look like models.  Some look like fitness models.  Some are overweight.  Some don’t look like “typical” runner.  Some do.  However, their running and their capabilities are in no way defined by their looks.  So why all the angst as it relates to our bodies, especially considering the fact that at the very least, in that group especially, our bodies are capable of running endless miles on rugged terrain?

When did we get so aware of our bodies, and what they should look like?

For me, I remember being 120 lbs as a freshman in high school.  I struggled with my looks, the way I’m sure all 14-year-olds did.  I was sitting in a civics, and I looked down.  I was wearing a fitted top, and noticed the part of my tummy that was hanging over the edge of my jeans.  I pinched it.  I pinched it again.  To this day when I’m feeling anxious or particularly down, I will look down, grab that little roll, and pinch.  No matter how small or how round it’s gotten.

I’m not sure how I learned that behavior, or what drew me to became aware of this part of my body.  However, at 13 or 14, I knew that there was something “wrong” with it.  And, as I talked about last week, the things I find “wrong” with myself, I look for in others.

All of that said, I do identify with the fact that not everything I’m thinking is logical or right.  I recently ran a marathon.  I have incredible physical strength.  I just completed a grueling vinyasa sculpt class with minimal nausea.  I should have incredible gratitude for my body, these limbs, these muscles that get me from more than point A to point B.  But, my first instinct, my first learned behavior is to be critical of the physical manifestation of who I am.

At what point did you become aware of your body?  What does your body mean to you?

What I’m looking forward to this weekend :)

Hi!

Wow.  The response to yesterday’s post was absolutely overwhelming.

In a good way, I’m pretty sure.

I did a mean thing.  I said a mean thing.  I’m still processing why I felt it necessary to say something so nasty.

It sort of was a great reminder – what my friend pointed out to me – and the overwhelming response I received on the piece, of the rules you remember before you make a comment.

  • Is this true?
  • Is this kind?
  • Is this necessary?

Sometimes I say things because I think it will be hysterical, and humor is sort of my default setting because there isn’t a ton that I can be serious about.  But I don’t realize how it comes off, or how truly negative and hurtful my words can be.

I appreciate yesterday’s yank back down to reality as a reminder that one, words mean things, and that two, we pick other people apart when we’re not 100% comfortable with ourselves.  And in my effort to be better about this, I’m gonna have to not only stop even mentally tearing others down, but also, saying mean things about myself.  It’s not doing anyone any good.

All that said, I can’t believe that we’re staring the weekend right in the face, and we’re barreling down on January of 2016.

Here are a few things I’m excited about this weekend:

  • I couldn’t find anyone to teach aerobics, toning, or step, back to back to back this weekend, so I’m going to eat a nice big healthy breakfast, and then take a crack at it.  Bring on the terrible comment cards!
  • Stacey, a trainer at the gym, told me that I could have her old treadmill that she doesn’t use anymore.  In addition to the activity I get outside of the house, it will be SO nice to hide out sometimes and just hop on the treadmill, even if it’s just for a walk while I listen to my podcasts.  I DO need to be careful though, that I don’t become somewhat agoraphobic.  My anxiety has been a little more active lately, and I don’t want this to be a way for me to hide out from all people all the time. 
  • Napping with my husband.  Sometimes, on Saturdays or Sundays, he will lay on one ratty end of the couch, and I will lay on the other, with our knees and feet all tangled in the middle.  That’s always the highlight of my week, because we work so much, and we don’t always make a ton of time.  
  • Running.  Always a good time to check in and say hi to my body. 

I’ve had quite a week.  Quite a week.

What are you excited about for this weekend?

Oh yeah, as a bonus, here’s a picture I took of one of my instructors teaching his class.

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How cool right?

As much as I damned whine sometimes, I am SO lucky.  I write.  I get to work out.  I work in nonprofit.  And I live in a zoo with my husband.  I am thankful!