Soakin' Up San Francisco

On January 1st, 2014, I embarked on a new yet familiar journey: to  run the world . In an effort to get into peak physical condition -- the best shape of my life -- I downloaded the Nike+ app onto my iPhone and simply began jogging. I was determined to run farther, push harder and grow stronger than I ever thought possible. I ran circles around NP; I attempted the hills of San Francisco six months later. Since that day, I’ve now run over 600 miles and conquered two half-marathons! This was much thanks to the love and belief of people like my Dad, friends like Stepha, rockstars like my sisters, and new colleagues like Stephanie.  Downtown LA 10K 2014       Santa Barbara Half 2014 SF Half with Steph, PoP and some LinkedIn co-workers! During the same period of time and after my move to San Francisco, I heard the story of a   young man  that deeply resonated with me. At my same young age of twenty-something, Adam loved to travel and longed for a greater sense of purpose, s

The proverbial "they" say that, oftentimes, life is what happens when you’re busy making plans. Several weeks back, I made one of the best decisions of my year by making no plans at all. Late on a Thursday night in the first week of November, I made the first of a series of spontaneous decisions that would enable me to demonstrate self-compassion, follow my instinct, be there for my family, and do what I needed to do for ME: I went onto the Avis website and rented a car to get myself to Southern California.  *Note: I cannot claim that I did this solely out of selfless obligation, one that compelled me to "be there" for my sister and cheer her on in her half marathon. The circumstances that led to this spontaneity were numerous: first, I was homesick. I care deeply about the family and cause for which Kirby would be running her half marathon, and wanted to show Kirby that. Changes at work, minor ailments, a full house of roommates and guests plus the timely fall of

Since I began running around my new city of San Francisco this time last year, I have pondered the reasons why I stick with it. Running is literally never easy for me; neither is waking up before 6am. On the other hand, the physical and mental benefits to this hobby, this outlet and [conveniently] form of exercise? Countless. Here are my top ten (sunrises aside).  1. It's faster than walking. 2. Running is meditative. It allows me to observe my thoughts and become in touch with only my body, my breathing and my physical self.  3. Running is... natural. Fight or flight instincts evoked by stress at work or emotional dissonance are instantly remedied (especially since fighting is frowned upon at the office).  4. Running is strengthening. It feels easier every time.  5. Running feels productive. With simple swift motions, I can exercise nearly every inch of my body and cover massive ground - both literally and metaphorically.  6. The road doesn't judge me. I can

A few nights ago, as I meandered through the muggy streets of Manhattan, I felt like an awkward-yet-optimistic blend of Hannah Horvath and Kimmy Schmidt. I ventured back to my midtown hotel room, channeled my inner (and wholly neurotic) panty-wearing Carrie Bradshaw and began writing down these reflections in my purple Moleskin journal.  The hawker stalls of Madison Square Park that night were a warm burst of familiarity, reminding me of the Li Jiang night markets in China and crepe-filled Parisian nights all at once. Entrepreneurs counted their cash loot and what looked like [unanimously] locals finished their hip bottled sodas. The summer night sky didn’t quite “death rattle” - as a local New Yorker had described the sound of September - but rather whimpered and dribbled on me here and there as I wandered home. Wait, was that rain? Or simply overhead sewage?  When I think of or peruse New York City, I think of so many people and things - both real and born of fiction. No mat

I have always been a girl who writes yet afraid to call myself a writer. Since I was a little girl with wide-ruled spiral notebooks out the wazoo , I would make time daily and nightly to scribble about my day, doodle my childhood milestones, scribble my married name in hearts and dedicate myself to poems and letters. My pen pals spanned from Gramz to my sisters, from my middle school friends via their Sequoia MS lockers to my classmates and travel buddies around the globe. I bought journals every month at the Scholastic Book Fair; I had a diary for every year or occasion, oftentimes filled them with Polaroids and magazine clippings in addition to deepest loves and fears. As I entered adulthood and began traveling, I moved my die-hard hobby from leather bound notebooks to what felt like a virtual billboard; somewhere I could bare my soul for the occasional road-tripping passerby across the world-wide web to see. It was frightening. As blogs often do, mine had a dual purpose; not on

In a short travel essay written for the compilation  An Innocent Abroad ,  Pico Iyer writes that  "the beauty of any first time is that it leads to a thousand others...Every 'first time' opens a door upon a long corridor, down which you walk with the sensation, from experience now, that any other door might fly open at any moment, leading onto another corridor."  This past month of June - comprised of anniversaries such as One Year since I made quite the life change by moving to San Francisco - has marked a steady series of "firsts." The first of the month was the first 1st to fall on a Monday in 2015. Its first Wednesday, June 3rd marked the first time I've ever flown - or traveled, period - to a different state and back in the same day. After the first week of this stuffed month, I returned from my first trip to see [my dear LA confidante] Scott's version of Dallas, his hometown -- as well as from the first wedding I've attended at which I

On the eve of my 26th birthday and on the last night of my early twenties, I nursed a ceremonious final hangover ( yeah, right - just kidding). Who knows, though? It could be my last bearable one.  After celebrating in a brand new apartment over a home-cooked dinner and candlelit dessert,  I also chose to reflect back on the bucket list I created at this time last year -- to see how I did. Me, last year, this time: "Inspired by my friends' and my obsession with the bucket list phenomenon, I decided recently that I want to set out on the trail from 25 to 26 with a vision in mind. It's in line with the thinking behind my New Years Resolutions: It's not about setting goals just for the sake of completing them; it's about creating experiences for myself and planning around them in order to build the life I want to lead." Turns out that little old Cory, hanging out at Mom and Dad's house amidst content uncertainty, was not far off. Setting my intentions