I need a goddamn race but I'm also miserably sick at the moment.  I haven't touched the gym in two days and if I don't make it in a few hours, I'll be on day 3. Several folks have peeked at my race calendar and have told me that either I'm incredibly inspiring or bat shit crazy.  I don't mind the commentary and these races honestly keep me on my toes.  Honestly, half marathons, marathons, obstacle course races and ultras make me the most nervous.  Maybe you think it's the anticipation of completing 13, 26 or even 40 miles but it's really about my eating habits.  Although I am a classically trained freelance chef, I worry about my eating habits.  

People bomb their carb loading routine before race day in so many ways.  For my novice runners, cyclists and triathletes, let me shed some personal light on some of the do's and don'ts of carb loading:

Its been long enough.  I have neglected this blog a bit because of my personal emotional issues and commitments as a mother. Things are starting normalize in my chaotic life.  I can't think of anything better to talk about than my vagina.

Don't stop reading now.  You knew this post was about my vagina when you clicked on it and perhaps, you was such a pervert that you thought I'd do some typical hippie shit like show you my burning bush and proclaim that I did it in the name of art.  Oh no, my frisky little friends.  Sadly, this is not why I want to talk to you about my vagina.  In fact, I want to be really TMI and tell you about all of the shit that people Google search about in the running/fitness community before contacting their doctors.  I'll try to be short, even though I can be long winded as fuck:
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So glad that you asked!  It's very common for high intensity exercise nuts come across a bit more vaginal discharge than normal.  The act of running isn't necessarily doing this but the intra-abdominal muscle might be responsible.  Don't believe me?  Check out this article on Runner's World.  I Google searched for you.  Don't say I didn't give you anything.  You're welcome.

There’s millions of articles and blogs typed up on a daily basis about learning how to properly run and breathe.  Controlling your breathing while running helps you preserve energy to go longer distances.  After you mastered breathing, you can increase your stride.  Your limbs can take you to great distances and in a sense, you can become a tourist in your own home town.  Sure, I fell into this cliché.  Three or four week ago, I practiced my typical morning ritual.  I hit the snooze button four times until I felt compelled to use the bathroom.  Washed my face.  Threw on some running attire.  Since I’m backwards, I checked the weather before heading out of the door.
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Honestly, I have been working out harder at the gym for the last few weeks.  The days have been blending in together and thanks to an article posted in Self Magazine, listing me as one of 28 Black Fitness Pros You Should Be Following on Instagram, my inbox and social life has been indescribable to say the least.  Some of my closest friends feel like I should be on top of the world right now, as I am one of the few people who started off 2017 in such a phenomenal way but I have been quietly falling apart.  Fifteen minutes of notoriety is incredible and I’m blessed by all of the wonderful emails received thus far but to my son, I am mom.  My nine year old likes to refer to me as the best chef that knows and is fully aware that I am a fitness nut but he loves mom.  Mom is a superhero to all of his adolescent needs but he doesn’t know how broken mom truly is when he goes to sleep or when she gets a moment alone.

​Frankly, I am feeling a bit hormonal.  Perhaps it's Mother Nature reminding me that her rude ass is going to be here very soon.  Unfortunately, I've been going through PMDD for years.  Imagine PMS leveling up to Gill from the boss battle in Street Fighter III.  Fuck you PMDD.

I just started half marathon and obstacle course race training a few Saturdays ago and it always feel like my body is bloating to the size of Texas.  Unfortunately, this includes my beloved project door knockers that sit up slightly higher these days thanks to strength training.  

Frankly, I'm not as large as some women but my 38Ds like to pretend that they're F cups sometimes and I'm over it fairly quickly.  I went to the gym last week wondering why I felt like my breasts were auditioning for Fight Club as I was doing my plyo workout.  Around the 40 minute mark, I made one wrong turn and I could hear the tear of my neon bra.  My bra suddenly went into ICU and because I had the damn thing for so long, I wasn't going to be frugal enough to repair it.  

I heard and know some women who wear two, sometimes three bras when going to the gym.  What's a girl to do to save herself from the boobie pain?  Here's some tips below:
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