Really? Me?

You really never know where teaching and fitness is going to take you, right?  I was a total slob kabob in college, and I blink, it’s like 5 years later, and I’m in love with what I do.

Which brings me to this.

A few months back, I was invited to speak at St. Mary’s School, an all-girls boarding school here in Raleigh.  It’s so interesting.  The woman who invited me to speak has taken a lot of my pump classes, and felt like I would be great to speak to the girls as a “woman in fitness”.  What she didn’t know asking me is that, one, that I love working with that age group (high schoolers), and I really gravitated toward this group at camp.  I still get Seventeen Magazine, am obsessed with Katy Perry and Justin Bieber, and am routinely mistaken for about 10 years younger than I am.  I hope that is a compliment to my skin, and NOT evident of what people think of my maturity level.  Ugh.

But anyways, all that is to say, I relate to this group really really well, and I’m so, so excited to speak to them, but I’m also 100% freaked out at the fact that someone would want me to speak to their kids.

I’m not sure what to say.  I drink.  I shower as little as society will allow.  I would prefer to spend all my time in a bikini if it is over 80 degrees.  I swear.  Like a lot.  And I’m not sure exactly why Caroline thought of me to speak to the girls.  But I’m honored.  And I hope I say the right things, the things that high school girls need to hear.

What DO high school girls need to hear?

What would I have wanted to hear in high school?

  • Always bring a sweater.  You will always be cold.
  • Start taking care of your body NOW.  Don’t let things creep up on you.  When you get to college, your mom will not be there to remind you to balance your meals.  BALANCE YOUR MEALS.  That means eat something not fried for breakfast.  Eat something sensible for lunch.  Sushi or a salad works.  Same goes for dinner.  Do at least 20-30 minutes of activity today.  You start that shit early, and you will be set.
  • Watch the news when you get ready for school/work.  You don’t want to be that idiot that knows nothing when folks are talking.  Don’t just rely on fake Facebook articles to keep yourself informed.
  • Do something that makes you laugh every single day.
  • I struggle with this one.  Get up early and do something.  Get to bed at a reasonable time.  Again, I struggle with this one but I have never ever regretted getting up early to get stuff done.
  • If you’re interested in it, go for it.  Just do it.  Don’t let your boyfriend, or your mom, or your friends talk you out of anything you have in your mind!

**So update alert.  I wrote this post prior to going out to school.  I went to school to speak to the girls on Tuesday, and it was an absolutely amazing, incredible experience, and I definitely, definitely would LOVE to do it again.

The engagement started with me getting a chance to see St. Mary’s School, a girls boarding AND day school here in Raleigh, NC.  The campus was really pretty, and reminded me of college.  Caroline, who had arranged for us to be there met me along with some students who were enjoying lunch.  I grabbed lunch in their dining hall, which was really nice, and included a painted portrait of Kylie Jenner, which I totally appreciated.

Caroline set me, and the three other women on the panel up in the performance hall, and we got started by introducing ourselves, what we did, and a little reason why we were sitting on the panel.  The women were great.  One was a career counselor.  Another, a director of a non-profit that paired horses with kids who had faced trauma, and still another directed at a local art gallery here in Raleigh.

And then there was me.

When it came my turn to introduce myself, I did what I do best, and I had everyone spread out and lead them through a movement and breathing exercise.

The girls, extremely impressive girls, asked wonderful questions, ans were highly engaged.  They were poised, beautiful, and confident, and I felt absolutely honored to be in their presence.  After the session, I got a chance to hug some of the girls and talk to them, and I was, and still am blown away by what they did.

I would love to guest speak once again, and hope I brought to the girls, a fraction of the joy they brought me on Tuesday.

Happy Friday, y’all :)

xoxo <3

What makes me feel like me!


Yesterday, after work when I realized I could sit at my desk for like another 3 hours and still not have everything I wanted done done, I felt completely overwhelmed.  I’d promised myself I would get out of my chair and hop on the treadmill for a few minutes, and when it came time, I was trying to convince myself that I didn’t need to, instead, that I could just answer more emails.

I was irritable, my throat was tight, and I just wanted to hide in a fort of my own making.  Like sheets and stuff.  Those were the best, right?  Except my mom would never let us sleep in them.  BOO.  So I hopped on the treadmill for a few minutes, and the funk, the fog, started to lift.

While I was on there, I got to thinking about things that make me feel most like me, things that ground me.

  • Painting my nails.  

IMG_3192I don’t have a ton of time, nor do I have a ton of money.  The act of painting my nails itself is fine, and I’ve perfected the art of gelling my nails so I get a little more than a day or two of wear out of my nails.  But something about having my nails done makes me feel so pulled together, even if I’m just wearing tights and a tank top.

  • Running…after the first few miles.  I think running can be tricky for me because I feel like such a fat idiot for the first few moments.  But once I hit my stride – once I sort of hit a good rhythm – which can be after 4 miles during a long run, or after 10 minutes – I feel like a lot of problems are a LOT more solve-able, and I can break things down in my head.  I’ve saved myself (and the world) from many a meltdown.
  • Doing creative things.  I like to write. I like to draw.  Sometimes paint.  Performing live.  And whenever I do any of these things, I start to feel most at peace and like myself.  During the time when we were engaged, I struggled really heavily with anxiety, and being able to look at paper, draw, address envelopes, and put things together really grounded me.
I LOVE writing letters too.
  • Teaching classes.  I’ll let you in on a little secret.  Fitness instructors don’t always want to teach.  But just after the warm up, something takes over me, and I recognize my role as the exercise tour guide is exactly where I want to be.  I’ll smile, dance, touch, and encourage, and I feel like a million bucks after.
  • Cooking for people.  This also falls into the same category as creative stuff.  But I feel like I have purpose when I can cook for people – my husband, my brother, and his roommates, and have them enjoy it.  It’s the weird maternal part of me that I didn’t really think I had.
  • Being honest with my husband.  Spending time with my husband.  Holding Austin’s hand.  Playing and being silly with Austin.  Rubbing his back.  Having him rub my feet.  Doing our funny jokes, which are maybe only funny to us.  Going to the beach with him.  This is me.  This is us.  I love this stuff.  And I’m so happy that he can help me get both feet on the ground, when sometimes they feel like they don’t go.

So this is me.  This list is by no means exhaustive.  I will maybe keep adding to this and referencing this post.  But I want to know.  What makes you feel like you?  


My weekend.


First off.

I’m really sad.  I want to just be sad for a second ok.

Austin is back in China for the week, and I really hate it.  I absolutely hate it.

He left on Saturday morning – I dropped him off at the airport and it was hard.  The trip was pretty last-minute, and I could tell he didn’t want to go.  When we were kissing goodbye, we both were really bummed, and there may have been some tears.

I drove home, and managed to squeeze in a really quick run before I headed to Fleet Feet to help out for the weekend.  It was good for me to get a little distracted, and my entire family, including my brother-in-law, stopped in for a shoe fitting really quickly toward the end of the day.  Debbie’s a big big walker, and Kimmy, a big dancer and tumbler, is working to be able to cheer professionally in Charlotte.

Which one of us do you think is the oldest? The youngest? What do you think my siblings do for work?

As soon as I got home after a day at Fleet Feet, Kimmy and I did what we do best, and headed to a bar to grab a few drinks and to catch up. It was around the corner from the house, so after our drinks, me and Kimmy laid down in the bed and watched some cable on-tv movies, and decided we were going to head out for sushi.

Thankfully neither me nor Kimmy were driving, because we enjoyed ourselves thoroughly, and probably drove Debbie and Luigi nuts by insisting they take us to Harris Teeter to buy a bunch of stuff for brunch on Sunday morning. So Kimmy and I, buzzed, flitted our way through Harris Teeter, working off of a list we’d made during dinner. We tossed champagne, biscuits, orange juice, bacon, and all the necessities for brunch in the cart, and managed to get home, drink another, and I had a sleepover with Kimmy.

The seconds before this thing pops? Literally the scariest seconds of life.

We turned into our Aunties literally, and got up at 8:30, and cooked for a while until Debbie and Lu, my brother and his roommate, and MY college roommate, Mackenzie, got together to eat up a storm, drink, and laugh on a Sunday morning.

Throughout the day, I managed to text Austin a bit, and figured out Skype on my phone and got to see his face before he started his day in China.

So that was my weekend.  What did you do this weekend?

What I do.

I posted this picture to social media yesterday.

Alexander TrainingAnd I realize that I’ve always sort of vaguely alluded to what it is that I do, but it’s not really clear to you folks what exactly I do (other than eat and run a lot).  And I’d love to hear what is is you guys, my readers do.

So I am a director at a central Y here in Raleigh.  More specifically, I am the Group Fitness Director.

What does that mean?

Have you ever belonged to a larger gym and taken a group fitness class?  Ever scrolled through the online schedule and cherry picked exactly which class it us what you wanted to take?  Wonder who updates the app?  That person is me!

So, as a Group Fitness Director, there isn’t really a “typical” day, because so much goes into a day and coordination there.  Which I was told when I was interviewing for the job and did the part where they ask if you have any questions.  And what you really want to ask is “how much Ima get paid,” but that’s so rude, you can’t.  And let’s be real, none of us work in nonprofit for the cash, so it really only matters that you can pay your rent and student loans, and most of us are happy!

So there is not a typical day.  But I’ll use today as an example.  Today, a Monday, I’ll try to wake up early and get in a quick workout.  Sometimes that means driving to the branch, parking my car, and doing a short run from there.  Sometimes it means meeting friends over at the state park and busting out some trail miles.  And sometimes it means popping downtown for a HIIT class at a boutique up there, only a few blocks from work.

After this workout, usually I head home, shower, and am in the office between 9:30 and 10 am.  I’ll set my laptop up, and get to answering emails.  On a Monday like today (and this is why it might seem like I’m ignoring your texts on a Monday), I will log into a special program to make sure that my staff (of about 80 instructors) gets paid on time.  If this work isn’t finished, it’s really bad, so you never really want to take a “critical Monday” off of work, and if you are, you need to make sure your boss knows and can sign off on some time sheets.

Usually when I get done with payroll and am sure that any hiccups on the time sheets is fixed, it’s about lunchtime.  Sometimes I’ve thrown something together in a lunchbox and will head down to the lobby with my office mate to eat lunch and chat about life.  Sometimes I go home to eat and let the dog out, and head back to work.

At this point, I’ll send a few more emails, and then get bored enough that I need to do a lap around the building.  I’ll visit my boss, my bosses boss, the HR lady, some of the people in the youth office, and I will head allll the way down to the ground floor to check on the studios.  I’ll pump up some Bosus, check on the bikes, and check the mics.

This time of year, were are gearing up for the annual campaign, our campaign to raise money for our programs, since we are nonprofit, and that means lots of meetings, lots of phone calls, and lots of hustling to make sure we make our goal.  Right now, and today, I am hustling to get volunteers and to encourage folks who may want to volunteers for the campaign, kicking off next month, to learn more.

Mid-afternoon, I usually answer any phone calls I may not have caught, especially while I was working down in the lobby or lapping the building.  And after that, I am usually only left with enough time to quickly change close, and head downstairs to teach one or two classes.

Like I said, my day is rarely repeated.  So while this may be a Monday, a Tuesday may mean that I have a program that I’m running with a local doctor’s office, a Gentle Yoga class to sub, or a broken mic I need to deal with.  Sometimes I feel on top of the world – like every single lick of work I can do has been accomplished.  Sometimes I feel like I have way way more to do, and that I shouldn’t even consider going home, let alone enjoying time to be creative, and write and work on the blog.

I’ve been working to find that balance.

But I will leave you with this.

When I was looking for a job in 2011 and having a really really hard time, my father seemed really really confused as to why I simply wouldn’t just take a job a a local credit union or in finance, the way a lot of my friends at school had.  I couldn’t do it because I was sure I would be miserable, and the thought of sitting at a desk all day, without an opportunity to get up and move around paralyzed me.  You see, our parents grew up in a time where you didn’t have to necessarily enjoy your work, so long as it made you a living.  Call me, call us a bunch of entitled, bratty millenials, but I knew what I wanted.  And the Y was  the perfect marriage of programming, nonprofit work, and a practical teaching piece.

Now, enough about me.  What do you do?  Do you enjoy your work?  


September 11th, 2001, I was a freshman in high school at Providence High in the southern part of Charlotte.  I remember waking up that morning, flipping the radio to News Talk 1110, and thinking, “Hm.  Today is just not a good news day at all!”  I try to never let that thought creep into my head.  My superstitious fear is that when I think that, that something bad will happen in the world.

Let me back up.  So I was born in Brooklyn, New York.  My father worked for Lehman Brothers (which isn’t a thing anymore), and my mother worked as an admin.  Except they used to call the admins secretaries which is kinda rude and not PC anymore I don’t think.  Anyways, my parents worked in the city.  Some of my earliest memories involved my dad taking us to his office.  They must have looked at him like he was crazy, a young 20-something with three kids, at least two that would come to his office, enamored of Jacqueline, a pretty lady who was nice to us and let us color and gave us snacks while my dad did work things.  Daddy took us to the office sometimes.  We rode on the train.  Once we moved to Long Island and he started commuting into the city for work, I remember driving him to the train station, our footie pajamas shoved into our sneakers.  On weekends, my mom would go into work, and my dad took us to Taco Bell, to Chuck-e-Cheese’s, to play tennis, and apple picking.

I remember when Daddy went to interview for First Union in a place called North Carolina.  We left all of our friends in the city behind, and started a new life in North Carolina, where people were friendly and had really funny accents.

We settled in, and since this was before a time of email, LinkedIn, and Facebook, when you moved, you moved, and hoped to see friends at weddings, or years later when you returned to New York to act like tourists (which we did in 1999).

So back to it, on September 11th, 2001, Mr. Greenleaf, my second-period biology teacher said something to the effect that we should turn on the TV because “something’s going on.”  At this point, none of us knew how serious anything was.  But he wheeled the television in, and among the clearest, bluest skies I’d ever seen, was the horrifying sight of thick black plumes of smoke cutting the peace in the skies.

I don’t remember the second plane hitting.  I know I must have seen it, because we watched it happen real time, and papers gracefully fluttering to the ground, juxtaposed against the soupy smoke.  But I remember the horror of realizing family and friends were near or around ground zero at the time.  My grandmother, who died on September 11th two years ago, was shopping.  A little old lady shopping, and no one could get a hold of her.  My Uncle Gregory, a street vendor, wasn’t in touch.  Friends of my fathers still worked in the towers.  And because the phones were jammed and no one really knew what had happened or what was going on.  Who was alive, and who hadn’t made it.

A few weeks later, my father dug out a tape, Stevie Wonder’s album, Characters, and told us that his friend Jim, who’d given him the tape, had died in the towers, leaving behind his pregnant wife.  My uncle, a firefighter, lost not one or two, but many brothers that day.  And that was the day that many of us realized that the world was not such a friendly place.

I wish I had a message here, that I could dispense to you some nugget of wisdom.  But what happened was horrible.  Disgusting.  Hateful.  And I think that sometimes it’s okay to not have the words, the answers.  Because I think when something like this happens, maybe there isn’t an answer, right?


Never forget.

Frippin’ it


First off, I needed a little breaky from the blog.  Last week shaped up to be really really crazy, and I just needed to take a minute off.  No worries though, I’m back, so you can read all my riveting lifelong updates.

Quick recap of last week.  Work.  Work.  I ran 17 miles on Wednesday.  We started out in Umstead, then I finished up around the house.   Director’s meeting.  Friday we drove to Fripp Island, an island off the coast of South Carolina, and met up with (mostly) Elon friends.

Remember our trip over a year ago to Fripp?

We headed back out there after Kelly invited us early in the summer to spend time at her family’s home.  When she invited us, it seemed super far away, but now I’m sitting here the day after we returned from the trip and I’m really sad.  Not only is our little escape from reality over, but the summer is unofficially over.  Time is rocketing past us.  And I’m really sad about it.

We arrived on the island on Friday night, after we packed up and rushed straight from work in anticipation of the weekend.  By the time we got there, the weekend was in full swing, and it took us only the amount of time to unpack the car for us to be relaxing on the floor of the home to join our friends.  We drank, looked at stars, and danced before turning in for the night.  I actually slept well!

Saturday morning, we woke up, and as everyone had brought food to cook, we started in on a breakfast of eggs, biscuits, and tons of fresh fruit.  After we stuffed our faces, we changed into bikinis, packed a cooler, and headed out to the beach, which was absolutely perfect.  I mean, perfect.  We ended up spending most of the day at the beach, and our friends (who actually live in Raleigh in real life) were in charge of dinner, which was meatless tacos and lots of drinks.  We started to lounge, when Kelly suggested we head to the bar (pretty sure there’s only one on the island). We ran into her cousin and a friend there, and proceeded to ever-so-slightly crash a wedding (the bride was sitting outside with the wedding party), and play yard games until it was way, way past time to head home.

On Sunday, there was a whole lot of bike-riding, coffee, and lounging, to the point that as I sit here, my bum still hurts from riding all over.  I was in charge of dinner on Sunday night, and cooked a spicy black bean soup.  I must have anticipated that 20 people instead of 10 were going to be there, because we ended up with a huge amount of leftovers that I ended up scrambling to find storage for so we could take some home.  We went to the bar again for a really chill night, and ended up in bed in anticipation to run or bike in the morning.

Labor Day, I sort of woke up sad knowing that we would have to leave later.  I got out of bed and laid on the porch, sleeping and reading and listening to the rain until we ate and let it finish so we could ride bikes until it was time to leave.  Because we’d all brought food to cook (seriously, we did not eat out a single time while we were there which was nice on the budget!), we ran around for like an hour trying to figure out what we were going to do with all the beer, wine, liquor, and food I made, and ended up pouring it into an orange juice container, a mason jar, and a container containing some greek yogurt to be able to get it home.  Which was all well and great because I ended up eating it for dinner that night.

Here are some photos from the spectacular weekend!


Ah.  How was your Labor Day Weekend?

When is it time to dump a friend?

via Yelp

First off, thanks to all of you guys who left a sweet comment on yesterday’s post.  I know I’ve absolutely overloaded you with commentary about our anniversary, so I’ll spare you more mushy gushy details, and instead, regale you with the tale of the blueberry cheesecake donut I ate this morning.

I’m not a really big donut eater, because as far as fuel goes, donuts don’t really score super highly on the nutritional density scale.  But since I’m a sugar addict and Rise opened a shop in Morrisville, I drove over after a miserable class at Flywheel this morning to check it out (and to check out the Fleet Feet that Bob opened out there next door).

As a complete aside, the class was miserable due to the fact that I’m a complete idiot and I had just a smidge too much red wine.  Working out after that much red wine is not fun, and I would not recommend it.

So anyhoo, I got the blueberry cheesecake donut with a diet coke which looked a little something like this…

via Yelp
via Yelp

And enjoyed it with minimal guilt :) They told me they’re opening a Rise Donuts in Cameron Village, which is literally like 7 minutes from my house. I need to make a rule for myself that before I scarf one down, I need to eek out some effort. Like if I’m gonna eat donuts and an artificially sweetened beverage for breakfast, I at least have to walk to the shop from work or something. Or not…

* * *

When is it time to dump a friend?

This is one of those posts I started, then deleted, then started then deleted again because I wasn’t sure if it felt okay to write on.  But I think it’s honest, and it’s what I think about when I’m running and I’m interested in what you all think.

I’m not talking about a family member, I’m talking about your chosen family here, your friends.  I take my friendships seriously, and I’ve cultivated a seriously amazing group of friends (I think).

But what happens when I friend of yours becomes a liability, and you’re not in agreement with what they’ve been up to?  What happens when you tell a friend that you hate their bad behavior, but they keep at it?  What happens when instead of respecting your discomfort with the behavior, they try to shove it down your throat, and force you to accept it?  What happens when their bad behavior or bad choices could potentially, or begin to, affect your work.  What does it mean when, at the mention of the person’s name, you roll your head back and groan before you can prepare to see them or listen to what they have to say.  What exactly does it mean when you find yourself repeating the words “bullshit, bullshit, bullshit,” when you hear him or her speaking on their stupid and irresponsible behavior?

I guess I’m of two schools of thought.  I don’t need more friends in my life, so I’m pretty okay with ending a relationship if it seems dumb or counterproductive.  But I suppose I feel, or I’ve felt, on some level, that this person may have needed the friendship, would see the light eventually, and would stop dragging me into their dumb drama.

What do you guys think?  When is it time to throw in the towel on a friendship? 

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One Year

Wedding Cake

Austin and I have been married for a year.

One beautiful, whirlwind of a year.

The year Austin and I started dating, I was working at camp in Pennsylvania.  One of the kids named Brenda told me she was going to read my palm.  I don’t really believe in that stuff.  Or I say I don’t.  It scares me a little bit.

Brenda looked at me.

“People tell you you have a ton of energy right?  They don’t know how you do what you do.  Your job is gonna be like that.”

I assumed she was talking about me teaching fitness classes.  That one was pretty self-explanatory.  I mean, she had probably heard that around camp, right?

“You’re dating someone right?  You don’t really like him.”

Ok.  I wasn’t sure how she knew that.  But she was right.  I was dating someone.  And it wasn’t really going well.  I think he sort of liked having me around.  But it was mostly a waste of time.  He would stand me up, drank a lot, and told me once that he would like to “have sex with a Latina.”  [Disclaimer: I would NEVER fetishize a group that way, those were actually his exact words.]

“You’ve already met the man you’re going to marry.”

I had no idea who she was talking about.  No idea who she could have been talking about.  But I was a little weirded out.

A month or two later, I found myself out with the campus rec crew.  We drank a ton.  I ended up seeing an ex that night.  But somehow, Austin and I forged a friendship, and what began as a few beer dates where we would talk, started to turn into something more.

“Would you date a white guy,” he asked one night.

I shrugged.  “Yea, sure!”

One date.  Then another.  Then another.  And almost 5 years later, we were cutting a teeny white cake on a table in Asheville, laughing, rapping, and wondering where a year of marriage had gone.

I don’t know what to say except this.  If you have found the person you’re going to marry and you’re considering it?  Go for it.  Jump in with both feet, be honest, and enjoy the gift that is marriage.

I’m certainly not one to preach, but God, the Universe, my father and my brother (who taught me what a real man should be) gave me an incredible gift in this marriage.

Happy one year to us.

Wedding Cake

One week with a nutritionist, marathon training, and leg cramps!

Leg Cramps

Hola hola hola!

First, look at these really cute earrings one of my instructors gave me!Arrow EarringsI saw her wearing these cute delicate earrings on her last week, and I went looking online for them, but couldn’t find exactly what I wanted.  I liked them a lot, and I emailed her about them.  I was over the moon yesterday when they popped up on my desk.  Isn’t that sweet?


So remember I met with a nutritionist last week, right?  It’s been really really cool, to take some of the things that she’s said, and put them into practice.  I find that having someone to be accountable to really helps me to be super conscious of my choices.

After meeting with her, talking about food colors, and talking about my history with food and everything, she had me set a few goals for the next 4-6 weeks.

My short term goals for the next 4 weeks are to:

  1. Get to bed at or before 11pm Sunday-Thursday.  I know this is aggressive, so I want to start by getting in bed at a good time at least 2x/week. Typically my husband and I don’t even get into bed until about midnight most nights, and wake extremely tired.
    1. No playing on devices after 11pm. This includes iPads, iPods, and iPhones.
    2. If we want to have sex, we need to start earlier than midnight. This means on sex nights we need to be in bed even earlier than 11pm.
    3. I will engage in calming activities before bed**.  Reading a book, taking a bath, or doing some restorative yoga exercises.
  2. Get up earlier/get my workouts completed in the morning at least 2x/week.  Because I get to bed so late, I often feel too exhausted to get my workouts in in the morning, and end up having to squeeze them in around my classes or before the day ends.
    1. Get to bed at or before 11pm Sunday-Thursday.
    2. Lay out my workout clothes before I go to bed. **
    3. Provide myself with some kind of incentive, like coffee or tea, if I get up and complete a workout early.
  3. I want more green stuff on my plate for lunch and dinner.  I often find myself just packing whatever from the night before and completely forget a salad, some green beans, some kale, etc.
    1. I can’t eat my main course until my veggies are finished. Silly, but it works for me J
    2. If I want to eat more, I need more veggies, not more main course.
    3. Pack something green with my lunch, even if I’m eating something terrible, like a slice of pizza or a lean cuisines.

I’ve been really focusing on color and more veggies and was surprised how much better I feel like I looked in the span of a week!

Tummy Shot

I think the veggies are really really reducing bloat?  Could be my imagination though, but I like what my imagination is doing :)


And finally, marathon training is in full swing (even though I don’t want to talk about it because I’m still traumatized by what happened at Greensboro.  I just want to run Chicago and have a nice time.  That’s all I ask.

But after 15 extremely humid miles yesterday, I had a lot of trouble falling asleep last night.  My legs felt restless and tingly, and I repeatedly had to stretch before I finally fell asleep around 1 or 2.

Leg CrampsI picked these up from Harris Teeter, but ultimately, I think I’m going to pick up some Sports Legs off of Amazon, since a lot of folks in my trail and ultra running group have stated they have the same problem, and recommended this.

Okay, this is all a mouthful.

How was your week?