I’m gonna be the very worst, like no one was before
I’m pushin up and breakin down and working on my core
(Thus far a rather uninspiring thing)
Oh I just can’t wait to go running
(No seriously, I’m probably going to come in last for the next three races I’m signed up for and that’s okay)
(via i-just-wannarun)
I stopped noticing my body for two months. I stopped running and recording and looking in the mirror. I hitchhiked across the country and slept in box trucks and warehouses and on floors covered with cat hair. I ate philly cheese steaks and lara bars (god, so many lara bars) and bread and I didn’t eat salad and sometimes I remembered the heat and soetimes I remembered the cold and that, no matter what, this earth is fucked, so really, none of this matters anyway.
The first month I would stare in the mirror and try to remember how it felt to care about what I weighed or why anyone would notice things that are personal and they won’t. I just don’t care sometimes. There is only so much the desire to impress others will do for me. It is not a deep motivator. But Self-love is different though, one that tumblr hasn’t sufficiently tapped into. Fitblr’s love to talk about how much they love their body, while simultaneously wishing for someone else’s or something better. Or preferably, from my end, fat, beautiful women who are dissing on fatphobics and gorging on something really fucking tasty.
Either way, I don’t know how to engage in that. Either way, it doesn’t feel like self-love for me. Control is a tool that I don’t have. So I find myself with acne and straggly hair and getting out of breath when I run two blocks (okay, fine, while carrying a internal frame pack, two instruments and two smaller packs) and just wishing for the strength to do everything I wish I could.
What I want right now, for everything, for April 2012
nice fingernails
Running, twice, maybe three times a week
strength training, twice, maybe three times a week
wash my goddam face
eat salad and greens all the time (not hard. I’m on a farm)
write letters. So many letters.
finish this sweater project
finish my last knitting project
write a bunch
play a bunch of music
I guess that’s it.
Riders compete on the road between Templers and Freeling in South Australia during stage one of the 2012 Tour Down Under on January 17, 2012 in Adelaide, Australia. (Photo by Morne de Klerk) (via Photos: Sports Day in Pictures | Denver Post Media Center)
(via skinnygothbitch)
I will have that hair in my next life. That body would be nice, too. :)
I can tell all of you that this person is one of the hottest people I’ve met. I’ve never seen them dance, but I run into them from time to time (they’re recognizable) and feel awkward in their beauty.
Really happy that Malice landed on my dash.
#underwateryoga
(via suiteem)
(via paleo-eats)
Jean….82 years old. New deadlift 1RM PR…….153#! — with CrossFit Longevity (via Desert CrossFit)
What a BAMF
Me in 40 years.
Oh my god, this is SO AWESOME.
Awesomesauce
CAN SHE BE MY GRANNY? PLEASE.
WERK JEAN
YES
(via fitandcurvy)
Sem título | Flickr - Compartilhamento de fotos! on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/19413336
Elly Blue is a feminist writer and cyclist based in Portland, OR. I picked up the first issue of her zine Taking The Lane at the SF Zinefest two years ago. It compiles essays, letters and imagery about being a female cyclist and provided some of the inspiration for me to start this blog. You can buy back issues of the zine ($3) or subscribe ($12/year) at the link above. She also has a great take on the cycling gender gap, in which she argues that it’s economics, and not aesthetic issues, that’s really keeping women from being equally represented as cyclists in the US:
Another barrier: Bicycling takes time. And this is something that, by the numbers, women have less of than men. In 2004, employed women reported an average of one more hour of housework per day than their employed male counterparts. These same employed women reported twice the time spent caring for young children. Employment status being equal, we have more household duties and are far more likely than men to be caregivers for aging relatives.
These kinds of responsibilities add up to more complicated transportation needs. Women make more trips than men, with diverse kinds of trips chained together. And twice as many trips as men’s are at the service of passengers — that is to say, the school drop-off, soccer practice, and the play date wedged in there between the grocery run and the commute to work (see pages 15 and 16 of this paper). No wonder the minivan is inextricably linked with motherhood in America.
I really like her analysis because she uses statistics about American women’s daily habits and economic standing to support her claims rather than the usual gender-based explanations: concerns about appearance, disliking getting sweaty/dirty, or being uncomfortable around traffic. Although those are valid concerns, I’ve never actually heard any of them referenced when I talk with women about what prevents them from riding. It’s always issues of access, affordability, practicality and time - the same things Blue cites.
