How in the HELL do you motivate the girl who doesn’t like to sweat?
About two years ago, I got super motivated to lose weight and kinda got in the habit of working out. I lived in the suburbs and found a really cheap gym that had a huge pool, a massive walking track and free Pilates classes. My domain was the exercise bike- it’s literally the laziest form of exercise. My legs are already pretty toned and i got to sit down while working out. Perfect.
Well when I moved to the city and moved to a job smack dab in Houston’s Midtown area, that 2-4 times a week spent in the gym turned to 2-4 times a week at happy hour. With the pounds starting to pack back on, and as I eat a torchy’s taco with one hand while typing slowly with the other, I’ve found some ways to jump start your activity.
Sidenote: It’s basically April. Let’s just accept that we’re going to be fat for the summer. And thats fine, as long as we’re healthy.
1. Get a dog.
My 17 pound pup is pretty used to my laziness. However, all dogs love to run. And if Riley was an Olympian, she would be Usain Bolt. I got her exactly a year ago next month and until I moved, I did a good job of making sure we hit the dog parks once or twice a week. With Brandon and I living together, we’ve decided to commit to taking her out more often. What I like most about long distance walking the dog is the pace. It’s not a run, its just a relaxing walk where you can take everything in. Playing a game of catch adds to that.
2. Get a FitBit and get to challenging people.
I know im lazy, but when I first got my fitbit and saw that I moved an average of 2,000 steps a day, I was ashamed at how committed to laziness I was. With the fitbit, it makes you super accountable for your sloth like tendencies. The best way to amp up your activity is to join a challenge. I believe everyone is a bit competitive, so the concept of losing doesn’t fall easily on anyone. When i see I’m behind on steps, I typically start taking the stairs or head to go workout after work just to stay ahead and win. It’s a weird concept, but it works…well.
3. Find a workout partner.
I HATE working out with people so this isn’t what I’m suggesting. I’m saying get a gym membership, meet at the park, etc. And do your workouts A L O N E. Just find someone who is willing to hold you accountable for getting there.
Of course if you aren’t some completely introverted person who hates socializing like me, you could (and maybe should) actually work out with them too, but at the crust of it…just find someone who makes sure your ass is THERE.
4. Fuck diets.
Yes, you heard me. Fuck them. Portion control. My process is simple- I keep the carbs low, I eat any fruit and veggie I want in massive quantities if needed and i drink as I please. The days of reading books and following strict regimens that you can’t maintain are done. Know your body, know your trigger foods and avoid or reduce them.
The end goal isn’t a scale number or a jeans size. As someone who has lost massive weight (100+ pounds), lemme tell you this: It doesn’t equal health (I’ve been in the hospital or sick more since I’ve lost weight) and you’ll never be satisfied with “how small you’ve gotten”…it will always be “let me lose one more size”. So let’s focus on whole health and better living for ourselves.
It’s rodeo time. I’ve blogged about the Houston Livestock show and rodeo being one of the most “texan” things about texas and once again, these 20 special days in March have arrived.
Because this is a city-wide event, a lot of restaurants in the city have “rodeo” specials to keep up with the fierce rodeo food. Check out this list of rodeo specials:
JerryBuilt Homegrown Burgers is offering an Outlaw Burger for $10. The roguish burger’s build-out: pulled pork with batter-fried bacon, ghost pepper jack cheese, smoky barbecue sauce, lettuce, onion, pickles and mayonnaise.
2 locations:
3501 W. Holcombe, 713-664-2874
1335 Lake Woodlands, The Woodlands, 281-367-2874.
Taqueria Arandas’ rodeo special is a deal on its sizzling Parrilladas for two for $27.99. The fajita dinner includes chicken, beef, baked potato, rice, charro beans, guacamole, pico de gallo and tortillas.
Present your rodeo ticket any time in March at Hubbell & Hudson Kitchen and you’ll receive a free Cowboy Burger topped with cheddar, avocado, bacon and jalapeños.
One location:
4526 Research Forest, The Woodlands, 281-203-5641.
Delivery
If delivery is more your style, private caterer Compleat Cuisine has a rodeo lunch special that might be up your alley. The “Rodeo Odelay” has Smoked sliced Brisket with Pepper Jack Cheese, Pickled Red Onions and Smokey Mayo on a Kaiser Roll. It is paired with a chili lime slaw, Caballero Caviar (Blackeyed Pea Salad) and an Ancho Chocolate Chip Cookie for 12.49per lunch box.
Black owned bar scrappy browns provides a twist on cultural favorites and honors the neighborhood its in with colorful drinks.
I love a good drink, and a great happy hour. I also like light bites, and a great staff. Scrappy Brown’s located right off Almeda in the museum district provides all of that.
For months, I wondered what the spot, with hues of bright orange highlighting the building, was going to be. The spot moved from concept to opening with almost a snail-like pace, sitting for months. Every detail of the spot had to be perfect, as the business is a passion for Chef Chris Williams.
You might have heard of Chef Williams if you’ve ever had the food at Lucille’s down the street on LaBranch.
Who remembers grandmother’s oxtails? Well with revamped and new bar fare (look, i’m over the million different ways to make a pretzel fancy”) like delicious oxtail sliders and wings packed with a strong garlic heat, you won’t be disappointed.
Since its opening, I’ve been there about once a week without letting anyone know my intentions of blogging about my experiences.
What I appreciate most about Scappy’s is its unique take on cocktails. It serves to walk the fine line between craft and casual cocktails with twists on good ol’d favorites, which are served on tap. My personal favorite? The OST; a dedication to the street that splits the tre and yellowstone as well as an unique twist on a margarita.
Now that I’ve gotten to the overall review of scrappy’s, let me break down what you really want to know.
The Good
People in the neighborhood don’t have to go far for affordable but gourmet eats and drinks
Its Black-owned and operated.
In February, they kicked off an array of weekly specials to get people in the door. The two nights that stick out to me: Monday-All Day Happy Hour and Wednesday’s Geek’s Who Drink-A city-wide well known trivia event thats a lot of fun!
It’s really an amazing spot for a happy hour or ladies’ night. The bartenders are really sweet.
Their food is extremely unique, and unlike other gastropubs I’ve seen. That alone is reason enough to try the spot out.
The Bad (the things that I don’t like but won’t stop me from returning)
The parking is limited as hell within 2 hours of opening. The bar opens at 4pm and with heavy traffic from their neighbors at the barbershop, there is a limit of about 8 spots in their lot and spots in the vacant restaurant space next door. (For now)
I was invited to their soft opening and they charged for drinks and food among a group of influencers who could make or break their brand. Charging FULL price for drinks is tacky. Several people noticed this that evening.
The drinks are on the high end price wise because most of the house cocktails aren’t made with “premium” liquor (Deep Eddy’s is good…but not great)
They don’t have a house cocktail with good dark liquor.
The Ugly (things that HAVE to change ASAP)
Don’t just take my word for it, check out the yelp.
There are major inconsistencies. With price, with drinks, with food. I understand new bars have rocky roads to drive upon opening and give bars 4 weeks to get that together. However, months after opening, the bar is still struggling. I’ve ordered to OST and got it made for different ways. Different glasses, sometimes patron, sometimes cuervo in my drinks…all the same price. (Sometimes). I’ve ordered the same drink with three different prices (all after Happy Hour specials).
Even with room for improvement, Scrappy’s is a break from the clone-like gastropub scene in midtown, wash ave and downtown. Check it out! (And you’ll probably see me there!
We’ve all been on twitter when the same debates pop up. How do you like your grits? What’s the best Kanye album? But perhaps one of the most interesting debates is the $200 date. Regardless of how you feel, Valentine’s day tabs can run high when you’re trying to impress.
There are plenty of options in Houston for great food this lover’s weekend; however, most will break your pockets. While most publications are counting down options that will run a MINIMUM of $200 before you even get buzzed, there is one dinner option that covers setting, drinks, quality and good food for 80 dollars a couple.
Yes, 80 bucks for two people. Some people spend more on a typical Saturday, but Simone’s on Sunset, an intimate retreat tucked in Rice Village is offering a dinner complete with dessert and libations for a steal.
For $39.95, you’ll get an arugula and beet salad, a bacon wrapped filet mignon, with mashed potatoes and two sides, and a slice of chocolate cake with fresh strawberries. This already elaborate dinner comes with a glass of house wine.
There is no doubt that Simone’s will deliver on delicious food. The intimate spot is one of my favorites during the week with a $10 lamb burger on Monday and $10 gourmet pizzas on Wednesday and an extensive wine collection sure to satisfy the snobbiest connoisseur.
The intimate setting feels exclusive and its sure to be a place that you will return after the 14th.
Keep in mind that a reservation IS required to enjoy their Valentine’s special, so hurry up and call 346.980.8107 or email simoneonsunset@gmail.com.
One of my mom’s biggest regrets and proudest moments centers around my voice.
Long ago, when I was a kid, she gave me permission to always tell her how I felt and have an open dialogue with her. I took that word as law and from there on I didn’t shut up. In the midst of teenage angst, (and retrospectively my making a big deal about shit that REALLY didn’t matter) that voice was my downfall, the catalyst to a lot of arguments and constant punishments that included no TV, no internet, and no cell phone. That voice evolved from innocent childhood ramblings to “talking back”. Contrary to the advice of my mom, (and friends), my voice and my opinion were going to be heard, regardless of consequence.
That same voice, years later, now matured by the joys, pains the reality of young adulthood is my mother’s pride. Often just contained in her idiom “I know my child”, my mom is very protecting of her child’s decision to be strong willed, outspoken and in her words “rebellious and militant”. She often tells people that my will, although testing the hell out of her during my teenage years, is what makes her proud of me.
There is a wild naiveté to me, or maybe its ego, that believes that my voice means something. Or better yet, that it can mean something. And when I start to doubt it, I’m taken back to that seemingly minor conversation on the southside of Houston during dinner with my mother.
But does my voice really mean something if I cannot use my platform for the best? I’ve blogged for years, and I’ve always supported the idea of being part of a media platform bigger than myself. After years of talking about it (and months of revisions, rebranding and doubt), I’ve done it, or at least started it, with the amazing support of a group of amazing women who have been a great support system.
In the country’s most diverse city, images of blackness, especially black womenhood are often erased or reduced to a monolith. Of course, this is a sad song that rings true all over the country. HUEston (spelled “wrong” on purpose by the way) is a newsletter that gives a diverse perspective of black womenhood in the city, complete with where you should have brunch every sunday and happy hour every wednesday. And the best part is….it isn’t just my voice. It’s a group of editors and bloggers who work hard to curate the best content from their unique perspective. Solidarity.
This was no easy feat but I feel like it was a long time coming. There’s no doubt that reading Essence at my grandmother’s house, listening to the women in my family talk during the holidays or reading JET magazines in Mrs. Karen’s beauty shop chair while the perm burned the back of my neck made me realize just how important our voices are.
I said all of that to say this. Like us on Facebook. Sign up for the newsletter (whether you live in Houston or not), and follow us on twitter.
that’s how long I have at my current job, and with a pile up of projects, all now rush ordered by my random departure, I’m heeding my mother’s advice more and more. There are people who put in their two weeks and basically glide through the next 10 work days and walks off. It’s the work equivalent of pedaling your bike, then just stopping and enjoy the smoothness of the bike until you have to pedal again.
I get so anxious about doing nothing that I figure I might as well work even harder than normal.
At my last job, I basically worked on the yearbook endlessly, trying to finish as much of this 150 page book months early not to screw over my work family.
that was not nearly as stressful as my current two week “glide”.
there are a lot of factors to this; not just considering my actual work load, but eh. My mother advised me not to kill myself to finish my tasks. Of course, this doesn’t mean be lazy, but she advised me to not burn out and not have anything left for my new job. That’s the most important takeaway from all of this.
During this two weeks, as my grandfather would put it, I should “walk slow” and preserve my energy. There is an amazing, scary, perfect opportunity that lies for me just days away from this two week glide.
And I’ve gotta be ready to pedal my ass off.
my family of four.
I have an amazing crew of professional family that are the reason behind the very growth I just spoke about. At my first job out of college, I was the youngest person in the department, and yet I found family there. Of course it can’t be perfect at any job, but I’m learning that my family of four- Jill, Jodie, Lela and Scott are about as good as it will get. When I looked for another job, they held me down, encouraged me, and Jodie became queen of the recommendation letters, phone calls, etc. When I got the job, we all celebrated, a major party from the 40+ people and thousands of students I worked with made me feel loved. My family of four was the best…they got me a journal, gift cards and a bottle of jack daniels.
And after the party, they came in my office and drowned me in silly string.
I remember crying as I drove off the island.
And the first day of work at 7:30, I remember getting this facebook message to prep me for the first day.
After a really good brunch this weekend with Jill and Jodie, I found myself at work yesterday and today missing conversations about actions and boxes, missing Scandal recaps with Lela and talking about acid reflux with Scott. This is the shitty part of professional growth; and it reminds me of leaving the house for college…you’re excited, you’re scared, you know you’re in for a lot of growth, but you can’t help to be sad about what you’re leaving behind.
This isn’t to say I’m working in a damn dungeon now; this is saying that while professionally my last job wasn’t best, I had an [almost] dream team of supporters who have always and will always have my back, and love brunch, and see me through the worst times, and want to be there to watch me grow.
That’s luck. Or a blessing. Maybe the perfect blend of both.
When I got my current offer and needed recommendations, I turned to my work “ family of four”. Not too many people have long term relationships that are genuine and fun and loving. My work family of four is responsible for a large part of my success. (and i promise yall, no more sappy stuff because I need to work on a birthday post for jodie :] )
22 days.
In twenty-two days I have a paper due. It’s looming in the background kinda just irritating me like the loud person in the room.
The 11th.
I probably want to write the most about this number. However, I’ve been working on a project that I’ve wanted to get off for months. Finally, I’ve got an amazing team of women I’m working with and we’ll launch-if I get it together on the 11th. Then I can brag about how all our #BlackGirlMagic came together and made something awesome.
10:22pm.
I finish (or begin to finish) this post at 10:22pm, anxious in different ways about how all these numbers fit into my life.
As far away from math as I try to stay, becoming a mass media major made me hyper aware of numbers, dates and deadlines. It became how I chronicled my life; defined by….dates and deadlines. And when these digits come and go, there will be more. And more.
I’ll start next month as the marketing and communications manager at the Montrose Center.
My immediate objectives are to start collecting the stories of LGBT Houstonians, especially if they have worked with the Montrose Center in any capacity.
I also want to highlight the trans community in houston, as well as black, Asian and hispanic/latino (a) LGBT community members.
Even if you don’t live in Houston, please share what kinds of programs and outreach you like to see.
This week is mental health awareness week. I’ve openly admitted for about three years now that I struggle with my mental health in the form of generalized anxiety disorder and diagnosed clinical depression. When I got my own health insurance after undergrad, I decided to tackle my mental health in the form of medical and mental health professionals. Prior to that, I’ve always dismissed myself as and have been labeled by others as a really bad worrier who was extremely sensitive. As I got older, I found myself thinking that I couldn’t be “happy” as much as I tried. I couldn’t stop thinking about everything that could go wrong in every aspect of my life and how it was all my fault. I wasn’t just sleepy all the time, I could not will myself to get out of bed, do simple maintenance tasks or sleep.
I kept this to myself out of fear of judgement from friends and family. I’ve always been an overachiever; and I figured that this would tarnish my reputation as the smart, perfect, sensible daughter that I was. I, like many of my other black friends, have been told things that prevented me from getting help.
A 2008 study found that more than one-third of African-Americans actively seeking treatment believe talking about their anxiety would lead to them being called “crazy” by their peers, Williams noted at Psychology Today. A quarter of those surveyed reported that they didn’t feel they could talk about their mental health with family members.
There should be NO stigma around mental health for African Americans. Here’s the things you shouldn’t say to a black person struggling with their mental health.
1. “That’s a white people problem”.
White people do own some things exclusively. Not using wash cloths. Under-seasoning their food. Yelling at their parents with little or no repercussions.
However, mental illness is for everyone. Contrary to what we’ve been told our family members, friends, and strangers who happen to share shades of brown with us, black people do suffer from mental illness. Often. Some don’t even know what they are feeling needs medical attention.
The American Psychiatric Association reports that as many as 1 in 4 adults in the U.S. will suffer from some kind of mental disorder each year. And, as the association notes, African-Americans are at least as likely to suffer from a mental health issue as their white counterparts.
2. Go to church.
I want to give black people the benefit of the doubt here because I think this was the solution/response due to mental health care not being easily affordable or accessible for our community.
But that’s a lie. Since we’ve been in cotton fields, Jesus has been our go to for all things help. Jesus is cool. I would personally argue he’s amazing. But I need someone with office hours. Jesus is on the mainline but I cannot call him on his cell phone and ask if he can pencil me in.
Stay away from people and clergy who thinking praying away mental illness works. It doesn’t. Not unless you combine it with getting actual help.
*and surprise, every black person isn’t a christian or religious. Some are *gasps* atheists*
And for the sisters and brothers without the financial means, check your city government or nearby cities for free or almost free services. It can be a crucial first step to health.
3. I have mood swings too.
“Oh girl, I must be bipolar because i be having mood swings too”
What’s that? You’re bipolar now?
Let’s not trivialize what mental illness is. Just because someone pissed you off, made you mad and then you got over it all within an hour doesn’t mean you’re bipolar or that you can relate to what people who deal with mental illness go through.
4. Don’t be weak/don’t let life get the best of you.
And for the record, being a strong black woman means taking care of your health (if you have access to the resources), not willingly ignoring it.
5. Medicine will make you a different person/change you.
Yes, that is the goal. I want to feel like bathing and eating everyday. I want to be able to sleep.
The stigma behind mental illness is enough. Actually being prescribed things is worst in the eyes of our community. It’s something about medication that convinces black people that you’re really crazy. When talking to my family about mental illness, they said that you never want to “be on papers as crazy” because white people will use it against you. I won’t say they are lying about that, but you shouldn’t compromise your health for the chance that it might be used against you. We deal with enough mental duress at work regardless of what “they can use against me”
Bonus: “Don’t say you have mental health issues, you’ll sound crazy”
Me:
Yes, I have depression and anxiety and have been treated for both. Yes, this is mental illness. No need to beat around the bush.
The takeaway-
Remember this: Black people, especially black women, are too often silent when stressed. Resiliency means talking out loud and getting help. You deserve peace, wellness and health.
