This story really begins at 3 PM, Saturday afternoon, December 4^th. After spending the morning quite diligently working on school related items, I put on my spandex running pants, fleece, and mittens, and geared up for a run. There is nothing like a winter run; there is always the chance that snow will fall. I love the way you feel energized and toasty.

Now, I live in Lawrenceville, and so if I’m not willing to drive to a park and run—and really, in my heart of hearts I’m more of a step outside your door and run kind of lady—I run by many, many establishments along Butler Street[1]. This was the case today. I was listening to a little Edward Sharpe intermixed with Far East Movement (you know, the electronic pop quartet—Like a G6—I’m a dork but I get a free pass because any music is permissible when you are running) when I realized: there are a lot of people out today. These stores are lit up with festive white lights. There are gingerbread men everywhere[2]. WHOA! This weekend is Lawrenceville’s Cookie Tour! For the uninitiated, this is how this scenario works: most of the boutiques along Butler Street bake cookies, you enter the store to peruse their goods, take a cookie, warm up, and perhaps make a few holiday purchases. Oh, it’s lovely, and there is nothing I want more after a 5 mile run than a cookie.

Thus, I ran home, showered in record time, geared up, and set out. I was somewhat daunted by the idea of walking in the freezing cold from around 50^th street to 35^th—but I’ll do quite a lot for a cookie. And, let me tell you: this experience was nothing short of AMAZING. If you haven’t yet experienced this cookie tour, you must go. You must. Nothing is more festive, nothing, nothing. Continue reading →

Two winters ago, I became a hot yoga enthusiast. My introduction to hot yoga began as follows:

One sunny but brisk afternoon, I was all geared up in my spandex leggings[1], Under Armor, mittens, and ear warmers. My Ipod was freshly charged. I was itching for a good winter run. Well, I walked outside my door, ran across the street and inexplicably tripped over the curb and sprained my ankle. This was kind of embarrassing, as a) I was literally ten feet from my front door, and b) about 4 people asked me if I was okay as I limped back to my apartment. I was mostly mad because ankle sprains mean you are out of the running game for some amount of time.[2]

So, this is how I found myself taking advantage of a hot yoga class; I had to do something while my pathetic, purple ankle healed. Immediately, I was hooked. Continue reading →