Menstrual Cycle and Training

During the Rio Olympics, I remember reading an article about top-level female athletes and how their menstrual cycles affect training (“For Elite Athletes, Periods Are Still a Question Mark”). It’s a topic we very rarely talk about and, even as a woman who is athletic, something I’d also never really thought about on a broader level.

I’ve been thinking a lot about hormones and health lately, mostly because my terrible sleep patterns have been taking a toll on me and my body. But I also train pretty intensely (typically about 6-7 days per week, lifting heavy or doing crossfit) and I sometimes wonder if there’s something I could be doing to better sync my training regimen with what’s going on in my body.

Meg Squats (yes, I told you, I adore her) shared this video from Elsie Alkurabi not too long ago and I just got around to watching it today. It’s really interesting, and I love the number of studies Elsie cites. It definitely has me hungry to do some more research.

Coming to Paz

There are a few places that I’ve traveled to where I felt an immediate bond. The first time I went to Paris as a teenager, I remember standing on the Seine, in a very romantic and cliché manner, thinking, “I’ll be back.” And each time I’ve left Italy, I’ve kicked and whined all the way to the airport saying that I belonged there, I liked life better there, I wanted to stay. I almost did, after all. Continue reading “Coming to Paz”

A Weekend in Petrópolis

Petrópolis, also known as the Imperial City, is about an hour and a half bus ride from Rio de Janeiro and is not to be confused with propolis, the throat spray, as I have a tendency to do. I also have a tendency to overreact to the prospect of sitting on a bus for over an hour, but in spite of the steady drive into the mountains, it wasn’t nearly as terrible as I expected. Continue reading “A Weekend in Petrópolis”

Paterson

I went to see Paterson primarily because I’m homesick and I get a special type of enjoyment out of seeing NJ’s hills, changing leaves, and, sometimes crumbling, brick architecture in it’s larger, more Northern cities. Guffaw all you want at the statement, but New Jersey is beautiful. Plus, my father’s family is from Paterson, as is Allen Ginsberg, and I always liked that connection.

Continue reading “Paterson”