A Very Veggie Birthday

I love my birthday for many reasons (donuts for breakfast is a big one), but I particularly love having an excuse to force my family to eat vegan things. Alllll the vegan things. Going out to restaurants isn’t particularly fun as a vegan, because #FRIES get old after the 20th dinner of pretending to be satisfied with a big plate of taters. Thankfully, there are little gems like Cafe Flora. I love it so much I might move in.

Cafe Flora is an institution for the veggie-friendly in Seattle. It opened in 1991 and has been serving up veggie-packed forkfuls of sunshine ever since. The best part? I’ve met dozens of people who didn’t realize it was vegetarian. WIN. Tricked you guys, lol.

Because I’m vegan, there is an odd assumption that I only eat like… air and kale. I like to EAT you guys, and I like to eat WELL. I’ve tried my hands at light vegan plates that taste like bunny food and, sadly, that just ain’t me. I love Cafe Flora because their food is savory, hearty, and never makes me feel like I need to pick up second dinner on the way home. The same can *definitely* not be said for most veggie-friendly establishments.

To ring in my 27th year I convinced my family to venture with me to Flora on 29th + Madison. I inhaled my risotto (order it, I mean it), cried internal tears of joy while I drooled over coconut cake, and had a *really* hard time deciding which of their cocktails I needed in my life. For the record, it’s the pineapple fizz with gin. Many, many, pineapple fizzes.

I want to eat in the Cafe Flora atrium everyday, forever and ever. It’s dreamy and full of plants. I kill ALL THE PLANTS, so I found this particularly admirable. Even the meat loving dudes in my life (hi, Dad), agreed that our dinner was *on point*.

Also, Flora has the tastiest Thanksgiving menu I’ve seen all year. Is it too late for me to talk my family into going there instead?



Woman Crush Wednesday

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Well guys, what a weird time to be alive.

I woke up this morning and almost immediately wanted to throw up. It takes a lot to get me out of bed, but I jumped out of bed the moment my alarm went off at 4:20 and drove to crew practice so aggressively I’m thankful I made it in one piece. I could’ve stayed in that boat, rowing my rage out, all fucking day. I feel really frustrated. I feel scared as a woman. I am painfully sad. I realize this is very *ME ME ME*. This is how I am processing things right now.

A lot of women who I love dearly recently become mothers. Watching them become moms, still run their businesses, and do it all with a smile even though it’s FUCKING hard has inspired me. Like Louis C.K. mentioned– mothers get shit done. We were all so excited. This isn’t what we thought would happen.

My #WCW is just… all the women. The women in my life who take charge of their futures. The badass ladies everywhere who are working ten times harder than their male counterparts. Women who have been assaulted in a myriad of ways and still stand up for themselves and for other victims. Women who protect one another. I intended to write a lot more, but I’m too emotional. I just don’t know what to say. You go, girls.

This is hard. As much as I would like to erupt in full on internet rage right now, I am reminded of some wise words by the women of Destiny’s Child- You know I’m not gonna diss you on the internet, Cause my mama taught me better than that.

Actually, you know what? The whole song is good. I think I’m going to listen to it until 2020.

I don’t know about you, but I’m going to stay fucking nasty.



Snuggled Up In Nostalgia

I am a painfully nostalgic person. I keep every birthday card, take pictures of everything, and hold on to each little memento as if getting rid of anything in my closet could LITERALLY KILL ME. I am not ashamed to say that I still have my first homecoming dress from high school. I will never fit into it again, obviously, but that’s besides the point. What if one day I want to… look at it? Or something?

The problem with this, of course, is that I live in an apartment and have limited space. Also some of the things that I wore in my youth are definitely never going to be stylish again. Ever. There is some power in letting go of things. I GET that a capsule wardrobe is v hip and that minimal homes are all the rage right now, but I will always want to keep all the thing. I even struggle with sending back some items in my StitchFix because I don’t want to hurt my stylists feelings.

Since MIDDLE SCHOOL I have been hanging onto some t-shirts that I just couldn’t let go of. It wasn’t that they fit me anymore (LOL), but they just gave me *feelings*. I had shirts from cheer-leading, shirts from ballet camp, shirts from going on college visits with my mom, and shirts from big regattas in college. I even get nostalgic for OTHER PEOPLE, which I realize is ridiculous. Dan may *think* he’s sent many of his old t-shirts to Goodwill but SURPRISE- lots of them are hiding in my pajama drawer.

Since losing my mom a few years ago, I have an especially strong attachment to anything even mildly related to her. Even though I hate Washington State with a burning passion, the WSU shirt my mom bought me in high school will always remind me of the girls trip we went on when I was 17 to Eastern Washington. We toured her alma-mater, stayed in a hotel, and on the way back home she patiently pulled us to off on the side of I-90 while I cried about how nervous I was to go to college. I realize these  shirts are just *things*, but they are things that mean a lot to me. They give me the feels, you guys.

I’ve been hanging onto a hoard of shirts for years in the hopes of making a quilt of my own, but am not particularly *skilled* with a sewing machine, so they’ve just been sitting in a box, getting smelly, and probably feeling exceptionally neglected. Conveniently, I discovered Project RePat. Project RePat does all the work for you- all you have to do is send them your shirts (YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO CUT THEM UP IF YOU DON’T WANT TO), and they use their magic to make a cozy creation of all your favorite memories. I expected to be waiting forever for my quilt, but it showed up on my doorstep about a week after I sent it in. Amazon Prime has basically ruined my patience in regards to the mail, so this was a definite *plus*.

The best part was, they take more than just t-shirts. They also took a ratty Hawaiian shirt that Dan and I bought together when we went to Maui a few years ago, a pajama top my mom had given me that I just couldn’t part with, and a few sweatshirts that were too old to wear  anymore. I even sent them a sweatshirt that my parents had custom made with the name of their first boat on it. THIS SWEATSHIRT IS OLDER THAN ME SO IT IS BASICALLY ANCIENT, I DID NOT EVEN REALIZE THEY MADE SWEATSHIRTS BACK THEN.

I’m going to be totally honest- I cried when my quilt came. Only a little crying, but still. I can pretty much snuggle up and sleep anywhere, but there is something extra cozy about snuggling with 24 of your favorite memories.

Also, they are offering you fine blog readers 15% off the price of any quilt right now, and are still taking holiday orders! Meaningful gift AND a way to clean out your closet? Win.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.




Disclaimer- I received free product from Project RePat in exchange for speaking about my experience with their rad quilts. All opinions expressed here are completely honest and 100% my own. 


Your Next Favorite Smoothie

As somebody who likes *being healthy* things, I have an almost hobby-like fascination with trying every super food that I can get my hands on. Chia seeds? Been there. Spirulina? Tastes like fish to me but I’ll eat it. Pomegranate? Girl, please. The only one I haven’t been able to wrap my head around is Maca Powder. For years I have just really, really, REALLY, hated Maca Powder.

The first time I tried Maca Powder it tasted like burnt dirt. I bought a bag at Whole Foods years ago for about the same price as a small home in Seattle, and was really excited to put it in *all the smoothies*. No matter what I did, though, it just tasted like dirt. Burnt dirt. Like when you accidentally swallow a bunch of coffee grounds, only way worse. Even though the bag probably was worth more than I am, I dumped it out. I was LIKE LITERALLY SO DONE.

It wasn’t until I Gaia Herbs sent me some samples of their 100% Peruvian Maca Powder that I contemplated giving it another go. I warned them I would give an honest review, meaning that I was like Hey guys, if this tastes like worm-food I’m not holding back.


This Maca Powder (thankfully) tastes more like a *really* nice dark chocolate, with a bit of an earthy taste that is subtle and does not even whisper DIRT TONES. I’ve become obsessed with mixing it into smoothies with some cacao nibs (more on that in a second) for a perfect chocolate start to the day. It’s actually so good, you guys. I drink this every morning and you can’t stop me.

Aside from it being delicious and all that jazz, Maca Powder also has some sweet benefits that my body has been enjoying ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

To name a few:

  • Maca Powder is caffeine free but is a preformance enhancer, so it makes me feel SUPER READY TO WORKOUT for my 5 AM rowing practices.
  • It’s an adaptogen, meaning that it supports a healthy response to stress.
  • Traditionally, Maca was used to support energy + stamina.
  • A little goes a long way, so one little baby tub should last you for a while.


Intrigued? Try for yourself.

You will need:

Also, pst! Gaia Herbs Maca Powder, 8-Ounce is a great price on Amazon right now if you want to snag yourself a bottle… or 20.




Disclaimer- I received free product from Gaia Herbs in exchange for my honest review. All opinions here are 100% my own, and this Maca Powder is 100% delicious.

Yoga Snaps + Sounds

Thank GAWD for this weather.

If we are being completely honest, it’s way more fun being a hot yoga instructor when it’s NOT summer. I mean, would you want to come hang out with me in a 100 degree room when it’s just as hot outside? Yeah, no. Additional bonuses include: no longer having to shave my legs on a regular basis, Pho is an acceptable meal to have daily, my dog wants to snuggle 24/7, and Mighty-O Donuts start busting out their holiday flavors. I may not love Pumpkin Spice Lattes, but I LIVE FOR PUMPKIN DONUTS.

When it starts getting chilly all my regulars come out of the sunshine like the Seattle vampires they are and the *real* yoga fun can start. I always feel especially yogi during this time of year because I started my teacher training 3 years ago in October! Phew. Time flies, you kids.

Many moons ago my friend Dana and I snapped some yoga pics in the middle of a stormy day out on my dock. Now that true Seattle weather has descended in full force and I’ve started dressing like my most basic self (Hunter boots, North Face fleece, ridiculous scarf- not mad about it), I finally got my ass around to editing them and posting them for your enjoyment. Dana has a beautiful practice and we come from eerily similar backgrounds- we were both rowers in college, we both teach yoga now, and our dudes grew up ACROSS THE STREET FROM EACH OTHER. You can peep her asanas below and find her at Sol or Be Luminous for class. Warning! She will totally kick your ass. In the best possible way.

Oh! And for those of you who *always* ask, I finally made my latest yoga playlists public on Spotify. Here’s to you getting bendy and weird to my newest playlist, my first fall playlist of the 2016, or my end of summer playlist (that one’s a little peppier).

What sounds should I put on my next playlist? HALP PLZ.



Fresh Tangerine Dream

I recently was invited to the launch of Fresh Tangerine‘s new fall jewelry line, Metamorphosis. I tend to be on the fence about endorsing products that I haven’t personally tried myself, but I peeped their Instagram and quickly realized that I would have no problem giving them all of my money. If you don’t know Fresh Tangerine already, you should. This sweet Seattle-based shop was founded by Kim Kogane when she was TWENTY FOUR YEAH GIRL and operates with intention, community awareness, and integrity. Seriously- if the dreamy creations aren’t enough to woo you, the company story will.

I have to admit- I am a bit of a jerk when it comes to jewelry. I want it to be *authentic* but not cost as much as my car payment, I want it to be *unique* but not too crazy, and I want it to be something I will wear forever while also being something I wouldn’t mind losing. I say that last bit only because I’m really impressed that I still have my engagement ring. I lose everything that is smaller than my arm.

The Fresh Tangerine studio is tucked away in the heart of Pioneer Square near old-school pubs and buildings covered in emerald-green vines. I always have a dull fear that I won’t be able to find the doors to these parties, but a hoard of fabulously dressed blogger-babes quickly tipped me off. I tucked myself into a cozy corner and listened badass-gal-Kim tell her jewelry tale.

The moment I walked into Fresh Tangerine I silently vowed to step up my interior design game. The whole space was delightfully girly without a hint of gaudiness, and had just the right amount of Seattle edge to make me feel at home in my scuffed boots. A bright pink rug and an emerald velvet couch may not sound like the best fit, but they somehow managed to work together in such a thoughtful way that I wanted to run home and burn my IKEA couch in some sort of taste-ceremony.

Contrary to the playfulness of the studio space, the jewelry pieces are delicate and skillfully simple.Fresh Tangerine gems are minimal, beautifully stylish, but also tastefully timeless in that I know I won’t be embarrassed next year by my purchase(s). The same DEFINITELY cannot be said for the giant statement necklaces I collected in 2012-WHY DID YOU GUYS LET ME WEAR THOSE TO WORK?! I felt like I could stare at the the slender rings, bangles, and earrings forever. The colletion of the hour, Metamorphosis, is dangerous in that I WANT TO BUY IT ALL and it’s all so reasonably priced that that doesn’t even seem like the end of the world. Also the designer looked like she was maybe… my age? I’ve made jewelry like one time, but I want to be her. She wore cool lipstick and had on some really badass booties. My hair was slightly damp.

I ended up snagging two of the signature friendship bracelets (check them out on my Insta!) in ethereal jewel tones. I don’t want to take them off. Maybe I won’t! You’re not the boss of me!

Peep the beautiful studio space and jewelry pieces below. Sorry in advance to all my friends who will be getting Fresh Tangerine goodies for Christmas- just act surprised, k?




Fall Feels 

Yo dudes.

Fall always leaves me feeling a certain sort of way. I always feel the weirdly nostalgic and excited for the future at once during fall. I feel nostalgic for being a kid at Halloween, for first days of school, and for the insecurity of high school dances. Fall also makes me so damn excited about the prospect of what’s ahead and that eternal feeling (even though I’ve been out of school for years now) that September means a fresh start.

Fall to me feels like what everybody thinks Seattle is like year round- rainy, cozy, quiet, grey. Fall is the prime time to be a Seattle gal, because suddenly raincoats and beanies are expected. Drinking coffee and hiding on the couch 24/7 are the only options for survival. Fall makes me want to tune in my moodiest tunes (*COUGH LANA DEL RAY COUGH*) and hide in a blanket cocoon with my Netflix account until spring.

Whenever I find myself in the depths of a blanket fort I have the vague feeling that I should be doing something productive. Something like…working on my damn blog. I have a shit load of cool sponsored posts and collaborations coming up (gotta pay the billz!), so it seemed like the appropriate time to just blog for the sake of blogging. Here’s the thing about blogging that I think a lot of people forget- you guys aren’t stupid.  Blog readers are super fucking smart. You know when I’m promoting the shit out of something, just like I know when your Instagram post is really an ad. Not that there’s anything wrong with that- hell no! It’s a job and a lifestyle that I chose so I continue to hustle my buns off in the hopes of one day having *total autonomy* but also… I like writing and blogging and putting out my feels into the internet. That being said, I never want to turn into one of those terrible blogger/Intragrammers/humans who is all promotion and nothing else, because that would suck.

I tend to go big or go home- it either has to be the most fabulous post of my life or I’m not posting shit, which leads me to post like… never. I think my anxiety gets the best of me in a lot of potential *good blog post* situations. I wish you could see my draft folder- it’s full of wounded soldiers that will likely never be resurrected. They will die a slow and basic death, those long-forgotten blog posts. They will rest somewhere alongside the  trends of yesteryear, because nobody cares about them anymore.

And so, dudes, here are some fall feels. Just some updates on what I’ve been doing and what I’ve been feeling, because that’s what blah-gers bloggers do. Duh.

I have read every book by Maria Semple and not a single one has dissapointed me. Her new read (Today Will Be Different) was a hoot.


Friday is my only full day off and typically also ends up being the day I see how long I can stay in bed. Luckily, my friend Christine knows the way to my heart (it’s food, guys) and convinced me to get out of bed for a hike a few weeks back.


Mt. Elinor is a biiiiiiit of a trek out from Seattle. Like, get your ass ready for a ferry ride and a long time in the car. BUT it was totally worth it. 


I MEAN THAT VIEW HOW CAN YOU NOT. Added bonus: my buns were sore for like 3 days after this. Big Booty Judy comin’ in hot!


If you went on a hike but didn’t take pictures of your cute leggings and hiking boots, did it even happen? Asking for a friend.


This is Elvis. He is 5 months old and thinks he is Maxi size when really he is going to be the size of a small hybrid vehicle. I got to snuggle him for 10 days and contemplated kidnapping him.




Our anniversary was a full on rain-fest, so we felt *very Seattle*. I couldn’t find a picture of us that I liked but I mean HEY LOOK AT OUR FEETS GUYS. 


I like to come home from yoga, force Maxi to snuggle me, and tell her how much I love her just in case she ever doubts it. Also, this picture captures my true essence better than any other picture ever has. Please note my donut pants.


Best friends! Lovers! I wish- Maxi was terrified of Elvis and just in general pretty territorial during his stay but they *DID* photograph well together.


It is both a blessing and a curse that I did not discover Cafe Flora earlier in life. A blessing because I have saved myself likely thousands of dollars and calories, but a curse because now I will spend my entire life trying to make up for lost time. 




Any friend who will eat at Cafe Flora with me can have a child named after them. Limit to first 100 customers.
Donuts + pumpkin spice latte + yoga pants + Hunter boots. You guys can all stop. My friend Nicole and I have succeeded in taking the most basic picture of all time. 
I had a lot of cheeky captions for this photo but the truth is I was having a really bad bout of anxiety and Dan bough me flowers to cheer me up. Thanks, dude.










Also, thanks to Steph over at Kole Impressions for the inspiration to get my rear in gear, as they say.

Stay basic, stay rad.



Morning Raves Are Just As Fun As They Sound

To know me is to know that I like to sleep. A lot. My mom used to joke that going on road trips with me was like driving around a literaldead body, because I can AND WILL sleep anywhere. A few summers ago I fell asleep on a moving speedboat, and I was 100% sober. I embrace every possible opportunity to sleep in. It’s a miracle that I’m a rower- a sport that requires waking up before dawn. Honestly, it’s a miracle that I ever get anything done. I just, as my fiance would say, am somebody who really fucking loves to sleep.

When I heard about Daybreaker I was immediately intrigued. Daybreaker describes itself as a “morning movement” but can be easier explained to those who haven’t quite yet had their coffee as a “morning rave”. There was yoga! There was dancing! Live music! There was Whole Foods catering! I was in a rush to sign myself up until I saw the kicker- it started at 6 AM. UGH. I knew that my friend Dana (also the rare yoga-teacher-rower-combo) would be the only person I could persuade to join me at that hour, and THANK GOD she said yes. I reluctantly set 3 alarms and begged the caffeine gods that I would have enough willpower and clarity to actually get out of bed when one of them went off.

Predictably, I woke up at 5 AM and immediately contemplated cancelling on Dana and going back to bed.

Once we arrived, though, my feelings changed. The venue for this particular Daybreaker event was the EMP Museum, a Seattle landmark that I have only visited a handful of times. The energy at the EMP was palpable. Although we were tired, we were ALL STOKED! The Seattle yoga community is small and mighty, so I immediately ran into a few coworkers, friends, and students who I was glad to see despite the fact that I desperately missed my sweet, beautiful, fluffy bed. There were people dressed in pineapple onesies (I DIDN’T GET A PICTURE BUT JUST GO WITH ME HERE) hugging all of us as we entered, and Whole Foods was passing out coffee like their life depended on it. Honestly I can get pretty hostile if I haven’t had my coffee yet, so their lives probably did depend on it with that many 20-something, tired women swarming them.

TBH this is a great question. *v deep*

It quickly became apparent that in my pre-9 AM brain I had made some terrible choices in regards to the morning. To begin with- my yoga attire was boring as fuck. As soon as I walked in I realized that by choosing to wear all black spandex, I had completely missed the opportunity for *fabulous* Instagram pictures and looked exactly like 99.9% of the population in attendance. WHY WAS I NOT WEARING MY YOGA PANTS THAT HAVE DONUTS ON THEM?! I also, conveniently, forgot my mat. I realized this while driving away from my apartment, but assumed there would be extras for me to borrow. I was wrong, which was entirely my fault. I found myself doing many up dogs on a concrete floor outside of a bathroom. I tried very, very hard not to think too much about what that might entail for my overall hygiene.

Getting our yoga on bright and early. 

After Dana and I chugged a few cups of coffee, we were signaled to go to our mats (ahem, my slab of concrete) so we could begin yoga-ing. Teaching yoga at 6 AM is really hard. In general, students who come to 6 AM classes are REALLY INTENSE and REALLY WANT A GOOD WORKOUT, so expectations are high and the pressure is on for the teacher to deliver. Also, teaching at yoga events is a unique experience. It’s easy to teach at your home studio- everybody knows you, you have a rapport with your students, and they *generally* understand what you are trying to say. Teaching at festivals or large scale events requires a special kind of awareness because most people will never have taken a class from you before and a lot of people have NEVER DONE YOGA BEFORE, or their levels are all over the place. So, teaching at 6 AM at a yoga event requires a very special kind of yoga-unicorn-communication goddess, which we *thankfully* got in Kevin Ng. Kevin had to teach yoga to the masses, wear a headset (personally I find them really hard to teach with), and stand on a damn stage. He crushed it. The class was thoughtful, all-levels, and fun. He didn’t get *too yoga* which I loved, and his playlist was on point. You go, Kevin Ng.

The dancing started immediately after we got our “Namaste” on, and it was super fun. I dance like a mom but am proud of it. This was a morning thing, so I wasn’t as embarrassed about my lack of dance skills as I usually am. I busted out the mom shuffle and hip-bumped Dana until I couldn’t anymore. The music was electronic but in a pleasant way, not in the “am I on drugs right now?” way. The DJ kept yelling at us to “dance the system from our systems” which made me laugh every time. It also made me want to yell back I AM DANCING and also that I REALLY LIKE MY JOB but also YEAH FUCK THE MAN. There was a dance circle. There was a drum line. There were FREE RASPBERRIES FROM WHOLE FOODS (I’m very food driven), and there was a brass band. I was exhausted, but I also never, ever, ever wanted to leave.


This guy had more swag than I will ever have in my life and completely owned the dance circle.

Once our legs started turning to jelly, we decided it was time to go home and start the day. As I stumbled to my car, I felt oddly disoriented. I was covered in both glitter and sweat, I was exhausted, and I felt like I should be drunk. I kept having to remind myself that the day was just beginning and that it was not yet 9 AM. It was light outside because it was a reasonable hour and I had gotten my full 8 hours of sleep, not because the sun was just coming out and I was ending a long night of debauchery. I felt particularly sneaky driving through the depths of the downtown professional district having just left a *rave* while everybody else was getting ready to begin their workdays. Who was I? What was I doing with my life?

A package of berries from Whole Foods costs approximately the same as my rent, so I was (obviously) thrilled to get some for free.99

It takes a lot to get this booty out of bed, but I would gladly throw my money and a few hours of sleep down the drain again to shake what my mama gave me at another Daybreaker event. Luckily for all of us, they’re coming back on October 28th. Get your tickets here, or forever be haunted by the ghost of Daybreaker past.

These guys were my absolute favorite. Give me a brass band any day and I will gladly mom-dance my heart out. 



Take care, my babes. See you on the yoga mat/dance floor.



Disclosure: I received complimentary tickets to Daybreaker in exchange for this post. The opinions expressed here are totally my own and 100% honest. Daybreaker was rad as shit.



While summer was ending my blog was taking a little snooze so that I could setting in to my new job as General Manager (!!!) of Breathe Hot Yoga, and also just live my damn life. But since my last post where I whined about things I’m tired of being asked as a vegan, I’ve been secretly plotting my grand entrance back into the blogging world. This is just the beginning, my babes.


If you find yourself forever looking for the best bang for your buck workout-wise, you can stop. Seriously, just stop. I’ve found the best one. You know how High Intensity Interval Training (HIIT) is all the rage? Well, imagine doing it in a hot room. Like, a really hot room. A hot room surrounded by people hooting and hollering and high-fiving you to REALLY good music while somebody with A LOT OF SPIRIT yells at you to keep going (in a friendly way, duh). Can you picture it? Good. Because that’s Hot Pilates. And it’s fucking awesome.

I am 100% serious when I say that Hot Pilates has become my absolute favorite way to torture myself. I am so addicted to it that I have to force myself to take days off, lest my legs detach from my body. Current emotions aside, the first time I did Hot Pilates I was pretty sure that I was going to die. I went in feeling *very fit*- at this point I was already a yoga instructor and was in the midst of training for a half marathon, so I was pretty confident that my body could do whatever I wanted it to. LOL KIDDING. In Hot Pilates we do a lot of burpees, one might even say a BUTT LOAD of burpees, and I was totally gassed after the first set. When our teacher said something along the lines of- “one set down, seven to go!” I saw my life flash before my eyes. I silently said goodbye to Maxi and Dan, and prayed that my friends would use really good filters on all of their memorial Instagram posts.

Sweating my face off with my fellow trainees and the inventor of Hot Pilates who is THE COOLEST.


While yoga is forever my OG fitness class love, Hot Pilates has quickly become a close second. It’s my favorite way to burn off the steam of my day/week/life, and forever leaves me feeling more motivated to be my *best self* than I ever thought possible.

Hot Pilates has given me the elusive abs that I had resigned myself to never meeting. Hot Pilates got me back into the mindset of an athlete, and kicked my ass into such ridiculously good shape that I’ve started rowing again, and only felt moderately like I was going to die when I rowed a 5K last Wednesday.  It is such a badass workout that we have handfuls of former (or current!) athletes and coaches who come to the studio and incorporate it into their training plans. It is just. that. good.

Hot Pilates goddess Gabi. 


Conveniently, the studio that I work at is the only place in Seattle that offers Hot Pilates (shameless plug alert)! The woman who invented Hot Pilates, Gabi Walters, came to Seattle a few weeks ago and I had to stop myself from begging her to adopt me at the end of training. I dove into a weekend of workout psychology, body mechanics, and burpees, and left with the tools to make your abs cry in a very, very real way. I feel like I’m cheating on yoga more often than not-I genuinely wake up sad on the days that I’m not teaching Hot Pilates.

Image result for beyonce workout gif
What a Hot Pilates class feels like.

Last but not least, Hot Pilates playlists are straight fire. Here are just a few of my faves:

For when you just need some sassy girl jams.

When you feel the need to rock and feel particularly badass.

When you aren’t sure if you want to go clubbing or workout.

Go eat some burpees for breakfast. Oh, and come take my class!


5 Questions Vegans Are SO Done Answering

I’m vegan.

BUT I try REALLY HARD not to be one of those vegans. You know the type- they take every opportuity to tell you they are vegan, they pretend to gag when you eat meat, they sit atop their high horse sipping chia seed smoothies and pretending that tofu and cheese are the same thing. I try not to proclaim my veganism from the rooftops and in most cases will just say “oh, no thank you” to something that falls outside of my dietary restrictions. I prefer to do this rather than going on a long-winded rant about how you are EATING THE MURDERED CARCASS OF A SENTIENT BEING, but that’s just me.

I’ve also been vegan since 2011, so I feel like I can speak from some years of experience and vague authority.

In my 5+ years of eating a plant based diet I have noticed some trends. A lot of people don’t understand what vegan is (OH SO YOU DON’T EAT GLUTEN AMIRITE). They assume that I’m one of those *sometimes vegans* who talks a big talk, but at the end of the day will actually chug a gallon of milk like their life depends on it. Even though in my head it all seems pretty simple- I don’t eat anything that came from an animal- people still seem pretty confused. And people like to ask a lot of questions. PEOPLE ASK A LOT OF THE SAME QUESTIONS AND LIKELY WILL FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE. There are things people will say to you when you are vegan. They will say these things to you so often that your eyes will start to cross and you will have to pretend that deep inside you are not slowly going blind with rage.

How long are you going to be vegan for?

As I’ve mentioned before, I hate questions like this with a burning passion. It’s a lifestyle choice- much like following a religion or recycling regularly- that I’ve decided to form my life around. I deeply believe in it. I take it seriously and hey, it works for me, so I plan on doing it for a while. How long do you plan on eating the foods you like for YOU JERK?!

When somebody alters their life in a way we are unfamiliar and/or uncomfortable with, it’s generally easier to declare that they are *just going through a phase* than to accept that this might just be how they live their life. Making a dietary change makes people uncomfortable because they are (sometimes) forced to look at their own diet, which can make them feel *squirmy*.

Where do you get your protein?

I DON’T KNOW WHERE DO YOU GET YOURS FROM?! Wait, actually though, do you know how much protein you’re consuming? Are you aware of the nutritional intricacies  of your own diet? It’s an exasperating truth that the second you go vegan (or make any non-traditional dietary change, tbh) that suddenly SURPRISE EVERYBODY YOU KNOW IS A NUTRITIONIST. What I always find hilarious about this, though, is that they don’t actually tend to know anything about their own diet. I remember being at a party a few years ago where a friend-of-a-friend found out I was vegan and started digging into me about how unhealthy I was. This tends to happen about twice a year in social settings, so I stood there and let him get his *feelings* out and waited for my turn to politely shut him down. The whole time he was “lecturing” me he was also slamming back diet soda. So, there’s that. Clearly he was a GOD OF HEALTH.

I realize that not all vegan humans do this, but I did my research. I did a lot of it. I went vegan when I was a D1 athlete, so I didn’t have any wiggle room to mess it up. I had to make sure I was getting all the right things in my bod or I would turn into a zombie. I was lucky enough to have a trainer that I could talk to about it. I also planned out my meals very carefully.

I dread getting sick for many reasons, but PARTICULARLY because without a doubt there is always SOMEBODY who questions if it’s related to my veganism, as if my eating more fresh produce also equates to me being wildly malnourished. Some well-meaning but very misinformed person always whispers under their breath- “do you think it’s because you AREN’T EATING ENOUGH MEAT?!” Yes, I’m sure that’s it. I’m sure that I got sick because I haven’t eaten steak in over 5 years and not because literally everybody I know got this stomach flu also.

Essentially, I’m getting more than enough protein. Are you?

But what about when you’re pregnant?

This is an offensive question on multiple levels. To begin with, it assumes that I’m chomping at the bit to begin pumping babies out of womb. Also, it implies that I am not intelligent enough to plan ahead and supply  adequate nutrients to my unborn child. Really? If I do ever decide to start popping out babies I plan to take it really fucking seriously, and make sure that all parties involved are getting what they need. Also guys, it’s just kale. Kale is not going to kill a growing human.


I think this stems from those crazy stories- we’ve all seen them- of vegan parents who got in legal trouble because they fed their spawn some extremist diet and the child either died or was incredibly ill. I hate the stories of vegan parents whose children were malnourished. Saying all vegans will do this is very similar to saying all people who are Muslim are also terrorists-it’s terrible, terrible logic! You heard like, one story one time about this happening. You are making a very extreme generalization and being silly. Not all vegans are idiots when it comes to their diets. Say it with me, NOT ALL VEGANS.


In case you weren’t already aware, cheese is ACTUALLY addictive, so it isn’t completely insane to wonder in despair at how somebody could ever give it up. I was the Queen of the Cheeses, so this was not my favorite part about going vegan, but I made it work. WAY BACK IN 2011 WHEN DINOSAURS ROAMED THE EARTH the vegan cheese offerings were pretty terrible. I tried to make nachos once and the cheese-alternative I bought smelled so terrible that I threw up. I’m not kidding. BUT through trial and error I’ve found substitutes that I have learned to love (heeeeeey Fauxmage) and I eat plenty of it.

“But I could never give up cheese!” Actually, you could. You probably just don’t want to. And that’s OK! But it’s not impossible.

*and last but certainly not least*

You eat fish though, right?

You do understand what an animal product is, right?

Until next time,