on comparison

On Monday, I was in yoga and the instructor said, "For some of you, this may be your second workout of the day..." and then, a few minutes later, "If you've already been to CrossFit and done 1,000 push ups, then you might want to skip this..."

And I immediately felt bad about myself. This was my first workout of the day. I was meeting a friend for a walk afterwards, but I wasn't going to be doing anything else intense. I thought yoga in a 100+ degree room counted as enough?

Then, I was annoyed of her. How dare she compare us like that? How dare she make us feel bad about just one workout?

And then it hit me: she didn't compare us. In fact, she didn't say anything about how awesome they were for doing multiple workouts and that those of us who hadn't were slackers. 

I did it to myself. I immediately went from a place of zen to one of self-destruction. And while my greatest area of weakness when it comes to self-critiquing is within this arena (was that workout enough? Should I use this extra time to squeeze in one more? Should I be going faster, longer?), I think a lot of us do this in our every day lives.

I thought about it for the last few days, trying to reflect on why I immediately wanted to beat myself up - wanted to hold myself to someone else's workout standards. And then, my friend Robyn blogged about this yesterday. About the way we are hard on ourselves and it can lead to quarter-life-crisis-mode.

Why do we hold ourselves to someone else's standards? Why can't we be certain that we are doing and being enough?

We feel good about our job until we see someone else get a promotion. Why haven't I gotten one yet?

We feel good about our friendships until we see all of our friends in Chicago together. Am I missing out?

We feel good about our house until we see someone else whose is so much more grown up. Does mine look like I'm in college?

We feel good about a first date until we see yet another engagement on Facebook. Am I behind?

Comparison! Such a thief of our joy. 

And I'm quitting it. Because this is my story - and your story! And we're supposed to live them our own way. Babies at 23 is so awesome for some of my friends. It's the way they're supposed to live. But I'm not supposed to have babies yet - or even a husband. Because if I were, I would have it. 

And we can only control so much of our lives before we have to let go and trust that our desires will be taken care of - they will fall into place. One hot yoga class is enough. And a one-part-collegey-one-part-grownup apartment is great. And in case you've forgotten, you are enough. Single or married. On your Pottery Barn couch or your Ikea couch. In the gym or in your bed. In Chicago, in Indy, in Atlanta. And everywhere in between.

You're more than enough. In fact, you're killing it.

And we suspend! TRX: the q+d

Let me tell you a story about how last week I tried a TRX Suspension class on Wednesday and today is the first day my abs haven't been sore. For real. 

In my defense, I did have some stand up paddle boarding and kayaking in there, which may have delayed the un-sore-ifying process. But either way, what I have discovered is: TRX is hard.

After blogging about how I wanted to try it, my friend Taylor mentioned she and her husband do a suspension class a few times a week. I now know that she is basically a superhero.

We went to Balance Total Fitness in Kirkwood. The class was only 30 minutes, but she made the most of every single one of those minutes. From deep squats to push ups and planks to dominating our obliques, it was amazing. During the workout, I knew it was hard, but it felt manageable in a sweaty sort of way. The minute we stopped, though, I was suddenly dead - and the next day came the soreness. 

And with this, I strongly encourage anyone looking for a crazy good workout to run - don't walk - to your nearest TRX studio and start suspending. If you're like me and like to know what you're getting into before a workout, here's my quick and dirty:

• You can wear whatever you want, but I liked having my yoga crops on. Spandex are probably best since you can spend a good amount of time with your legs in the air.
• It's mostly strength, with a bit of cardio. Expect to sweat. It's not one of those workouts where you need to supplement with a run prior to going. 
• You don't need anything - no mat, no gloves - you really wouldn't even have to have shoes. It's a workout, simplified!

And now, I am seriously considering getting a TRX band of my own for at home use. Nothing like falling hard and fast, eh?

Happy suspending! 

From GA to TN: A Very Happy Fourth

My friend Katie Z. and I have coined the phrase "the homesick feeling," which is how we explain an almost-indescribable emotion we get in the pits of our stomachs when we know something isn't it right.

During my many moves, for example, there were times a house just didn't feel right. I'd be trying to explain it to Katie - describing the lack of windows, the weird smell or the tiny kitchen. Once I'd get to the point of almost giving up on why it "just wasn't right," she'd say, "Ohhh, the homesick feeling?" And I'd know she understood. 

Or, slightly more abstract, when we go out with a new group of friends, or on a date or on a trip, and things just aren't right. Something about it gives us a pit in our stomachs and we don't want to be there anymore: that's the homesick feeling. Too many things are different; nothing is comforting. 

But then there is the real kind of homesickness. The kind when I ache for my family to be piled in my parents' kitchen. Sitting on counters and floors and why isn't anyone using the chairs? The way our lives revolve around iced coffees and exercise and what we'll have for dinner (and nowadays nap times). 100 Willow, when every light would always be on and we'd sit outside on the porch, watching lightening bigs and listening to the crickets and the intermittent golfball dropping into the pool.

Lately I have been feeling this kind of homesick in an almost insatiable way. To the point that I texted my mom last week and said "I'm really homesick and just want to be with you guys." (Note: Courtney moved to Virginia, and my mom, dad and Sam went to help them get settled. That's alottaBibs in one spot without a Whitney.)

There is almost nothing more alarming to my mom than being told there is an emotion I am feeling that she cannot fix in any way. 

I've found, though, that sometimes when you can't be with your family, there is only one other way to begin to ease the homesick feeling: to be with someone else's family. You just need to be wrapped up in someone's traditions - to watch someone else joke with their brother as their dad jumps in on beer pong for the first time ever. 

And that's exactly what our Fourth of July looked like. 

It was the most makeshift year ever. With days upon days of rain sandwiching our Fourth, we didn't know what to do. Lake parties were cancelled. The Hooch was overflowing. The Braves were drenched. What does one do on the Fourth indoors?

Thursday, Mel and I threw an impromptu Fourth of July party, promising our friends snacks, fun and a slip n slide to combat the rain. We brought old and new friends together - playing games, pulling up chairs and providing food that was absolutely, 100 percent, red white and blue only. (Even popcorn covered in white chocolate, red sprinkles and a blue bowl. We weren't joking around, here.)

Friday, Melissa, Katherine and I woke up and headed to Kate's lake house in Soddy Daisy, Tennessee, where her parents took us in like their own. We left Atlanta in the rain and entered Tennessee in the rain and realized it was just going to be a year where we fully embraced the rain. 

We ate so much. We paddle boarded and kayaked in the pouring rain, and even snuck in a little boat time. We slept well and embraced a digital detox where we only instagrammed just a little. 

We laughed so much that my already painfully sore abs saw no relief. And on Sunday when we dragged ourselves away from that sweet lake, Kate's mom said: you know, now that you've come for one Fourth of July, you're part of it. We expect you come back again. 

And I smiled, thinking that while there is absolutely no cure for homesickness, besides your own family, it certainly provides a bit of temporary relief to insert yourself into another one, even if just for a weekend.

Thank you, Kate, for having us! It was a wonderful Fourth! (:

and the winner is...

First of all, THANK YOU! So much! To everyone who participated in my giveaway. I was absolutely blown away by the incredible support. With your help, I raised almost $1,000 of the $4,000 I need for the trip.

Do you know how amazing that is? You're all AMAZING.  And that is still an understatement.

So thank you. THANK YOU! For your support.

And now, what you all want to hear. Our winner! As chosen by the random number generator: Ashley!

Of all of the non-family members who entered, indeed, my own sister won. I swear I didn't hand pick her :)

Congratulations and happy cooking, dearest Ashira. I just might have to personally deliver it to Denver! 

And THANK YOU again to everyone who helped along the way! I love you! :)