Soakin' Up San Francisco

It's been said 1 million times that the most important things aren't things. But if we're not careful, it seems, many of us find ourselves overwhelmed by all the stuff we have to manage, instead of focused on what we're most passionate about.  - Shauna Niequest,  Present over Perfect As August 9th comes to a close, I see now that it's official: I'm in my late twenties. A new friend pointed out to me this weekend that once at age twenty-seven and  past  the half-birthday mark, we are officially in our late twenties -- forbidden from pretending that it's still the "mid-twenties" phase of our young lives. Is that fair?!! If so, I was officially amidst my late-twenties as of eight thirty-three PM tonight.  I'm in my late twenties, alright: a period I once associated with SO MANY DIFFERENT things than my life now entails. In our late twenties, we'd have fallen in love. In our late twenties, we'd have figured it out: we'd have bought ...

Some might say I was confined to the insides of my apartment building by the rainy weather. I could have remained, chilly and discouraged, in the warmth of my bed throughout. A recent letdown that had me teetering on the edge of heartbreak put me at risk of experience a bout of resignation; finally, the come-down after holiday season and my slew of visitors to San Francisco made this three-day weekend one with high-potential for loneliness.  I didn’t let that stop me.  Despite the testy weather and plenty of temptation to remain horizontal, I leveraged this third-weekend-day that was today as a vessel to carry out several of my New Years intentions. Several acts were intentional; a few were not. I’ll admit that the extra time permitted me to sleep in, drink too much coffee, and even procrastinate in addition to getting so much done; I can’t deny that the Monday holiday helped make it possible. But for all those who know of my obsessive campaign toward #maximizingmond...

My annual tradition of reflecting and, then, developing classic “New Year’s Resolutions” happened differently this year. Not only is 2016 set out to be my most epic year yet when it comes to physical accomplishments and personal records; I also began a new role at work, embarked on a robust fundraising effort, am quite possibly (and regrettably) on the brink of falling in love… and, not to mention, am steadily arriving at the dawn of my late twenties.   There were three new trains of thought that both 1. sped on through my former, naive philosophy of setting goals and simply writing them down and 2. changed my approach entirely from writing down “resolutions” to crafting specific intentions that connect to my most authentic self and will provide pathways to my best year to date. Allow me to tell you about them: The word “resolution” (rezəˈlo͞oSH(ə)n/) stems from the root “resolve,” which typically refers to the solution for a problem. I do not require a “solution to, answe...

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 ...

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 ...

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 fictio...