IT IS NEVER TOO LATE

women of wonder

The problem with focussing on end goals is we miss out on the most important bits: the odyssey, the process, the in-between. We forget how to live out loud. This circus is about existing on the edge, you know—and living a little dangerously. I went through an existential crisis around the time I moved to Rwanda.… Continue reading IT IS NEVER TOO LATE

IN THE ZONE (A LESSON IN GOING WITH THE FLOW)

Manhattan bridge run

It's all right. No, it's not. What the hell? Move your feet! I feel every dimple and ridge. Softened canvas yields as I shuffle. The lights flicker bile yellow and slush grey, with a few shards of off-white (star-bursting) raining down if my head snaps back too quickly. There is only chaos until I settle in… Continue reading IN THE ZONE (A LESSON IN GOING WITH THE FLOW)

TOO MUCH/NOT ENOUGH

too much not enough

I worked at Champs Sports during high school, when being 'too much' or 'not enough' was a thing. When we, as young people, tested learned ideas on each other. We gleefully recycled socialized fallacies about men and women. Notions that were outdated, ignorant, and cutting. Volleyball was my religion at the time. I also ran track and… Continue reading TOO MUCH/NOT ENOUGH

ABOUT BEING PRETTY

bicep day

**Trigger warning: narrative contains mention of assault and harassment.** I don't think about being pretty when I enter the gym. Too busy applying a peppermint oil underneath my nostrils, I'm more concerned with blocking out overlapping smells of wet towels, damp canvas, and still-moist gloves that might have three strains of fungus growing inside of… Continue reading ABOUT BEING PRETTY

REALITY CHECK AT SEVEN WEEKS

Final countdown

Reality sets in when you hit week seven. The number is an uncomfortable reminder of how rapidly the days meld into one another. By this point, you liken yourself to a feckless deer at the edge of a clearing—minding your business, looking for cover. But if you are a deer then time is a huntsman.… Continue reading REALITY CHECK AT SEVEN WEEKS

INSIDE PANDORA’S BOX

thoughts on sparring with headgear

Pandora's Box is open. This post is a narrative summary of my first (real) nine minutes in the ring. Coach has a way of tricking you into things. He does it all the time, luring in his charges by playing off some ridiculously, intense exercise as a modified workout. Or by slapping a nonchalant look… Continue reading INSIDE PANDORA’S BOX

HONEY WHITE (FOR THE LOVE OF EPSOM SALT)

epsom salt

When I was young my father relied on a few staples whenever we fell sick. He claimed these makeshift meds could cure almost anything. They were the ultimate elixirs and potions under the category of 'do-it-yourself' remedies. His primary go-to was bitters, Angostura to be exact. The caramel liquid from the motherland had all kinds of… Continue reading HONEY WHITE (FOR THE LOVE OF EPSOM SALT)

A DICK PIC MADE ME DO IT

jab, women, women who box, combat sports

I fight because it feels damn good and, more importantly, because I can. But there is another, more sinister, reason I rock out on the daily. I took up boxing, in part, because of the Krav Maga trainer who sent me an unsolicited ‘dick-pic’...of someone else's penis. dick pic* 1. A picture of your dick. "Hey dude,… Continue reading A DICK PIC MADE ME DO IT

BLACK CAPRICORN DAYS

black capricorn days

Some days everything comes together. The stars align. A stranger offers his seat on the subway. The productivity meter hits 110% before noon. Things flow effortlessly when all is in balance. I hold pincha mayurasana with ease, or pound 10K of pavement in under an hour. After twenty rounds of aerobic exercise and strength training—sweat… Continue reading BLACK CAPRICORN DAYS

THREE MINUTES (IN THE SEVENTH CIRCLE OF HELL)

church street boxing

Time gets slippery about a minute and a half in. The seconds drunkenly drift into each other until the only moment that matters is the continuous present. All background noise, the music and the grunting, the thudding and the yelling, decreases. It turns into a faint buzz that sits in the middle of my ear,… Continue reading THREE MINUTES (IN THE SEVENTH CIRCLE OF HELL)