easter on the beach

I've been following healthy lifestyle bloggers on instagram like it's my job lately. It's such a cool community of women sharing recipes and detailing their healthy eating and lifestyle journeys. I'm inspired and motivated by it every day when I log into instagram (by every day, I mean like every hour). It has really begun to change the way I think about food and fitness. There's a lot of language around taking charge of your body and owning it, and I'm coming around to feeling comfortable in that space.

This weekend, we were at the beach visiting Zan's parents (they live in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware), and I found myself consciously choosing to make better choices. Not always - I certainly still drank my body weight in wine over the course of the three days and indulged in a crazy delicious quesadilla and some nachos and maybe even a margarita, but I also chose to go for a walk on the beach instead of stay inside in my pajamas and watch episodes of Veep on HBO Go. I ordered a steak for dinner on Friday night - but chose the smaller one with a side of vegetables to keep it kinda sorta healthy. And before Easter dinner last night, after an afternoon of shopping until I literally dropped from shock at the amount I'd spent, I opted to go for a run instead of our usual pre-dinner festivities of wine and cheese... the pre-cocktail hour cocktail hour.

It was the best run I've been on in a long time. I ran a 3.3ish miles loop around Zan's parent's neighborhood. The air was crisp and a little cool, but the sunshine offset the chill. I ran through a swampy area covered in reeds, through a forested nook in between residential neighborhoods, across the country club parking lot, and along the bay, stopping to crouch down on a dock for a picture. Zander hopped on his dad's moped and caught up to me part way through the run. He honked and cheered me on, teasing me a little, but mostly making sure I didn't get lost. (Side note: He had driven me in the car around the loop, showing me exactly where to go. Even with that and having been down to the beach at least half a dozen times, I still managed to nearly get lost twice!)

In the middle of my run, I found myself thinking about choice. About how I have the power to choose myself - to choose to eat foods that make me feel good instead of weighed down and to choose to get outside and move. It sounds so simple, and it is, but it takes a lot of self-discipline, for me, to make the better choice. Being at the beach made it easier this weekend, though.

There's something about fresh ocean air, the smell of salt, the outdoor shower calling my name, the reeds and woods and water, and long, sunshine-filled days, that make it effortless to be the best version of myself.

All that in addition to great food and hours of catching up over countless bottles of wine. That's what Easter's about for me these days. 

where the ocean and jungle meet | tulum

I admit that when I'm researching a new travel destination, one of the first steps I take is to type, "must do (x place)" into Google. Then I type in, "must see," "must eat," "must try," and any other variation I can come up with in that moment. Judging by the number of results for each search, it's how a lot of people start plan their travels. When we have a limited amount of time in a new place, it's human nature to want to experience the best of the best of the best. Unfortunately, a lot of those results lead us to what's typical, overdone, touristed, and easy.

So I make a list of the top 5-10 results I find, research those more in-depth and knock out all the ones that don't make my cut. That research usually takes me to smaller online forums and blogs that contain the real gems of wherever I'm headed. On average, I probably spend 15-20 hours researching before every trip I take.

I arrive wherever I'm going with a folder filled with my travel documents, hotel information, car rental if it's applicable, and all the other essentials, along with a list of my "must sees" and "must dos." I like to think my research is solid, but even then, at the end of every trip, I've crossed out half my list and traded the other half in for what I found while I was there. And then I get to tell you about that list.

Cenotes - must see, must do

Cenotes are natural watering holes, created from a collapse of limestone bedrock. Limestone is usually exposed, and it's green and sometimes jagged and sometimes smooth, and it's beautiful, and it's perfect.The cenotes are often in caves. A famous, much-touristed network of cenotes is Dos Ojos, between Playa Del Carmen and Tulum. It's a popular area for divers, as you can see incredible marine life and get into nooks and crannies that you can't while swimming.

Zan's and my first cenote experience was in a cave near the Mayan ruins of Coba. Thirty feet above the water, climbing down steep, winding stairs, we could see the very bottom of the pool. Small fish darted around. Limestone stagtites and stalagmites decorated the interior. We saw a bat dart from one alcove to another. Every 10 feet down the climb was a ledge off of which you could jump. Zander and I both jumped from 30 feet. 

A few days later we swam in the cenote where the ocean and jungle meet. We learned about a beach that I honestly, readers, won't even name, it's so special and barely touched. But if you go to Tulum, email me, and I'm sure I'll spill the beans. This beach is all white sand and famous for snorkeling and for seeing sea turtles lay their eggs and make their way back to the waters during the right season. The path to the beach, and to the nearby cenote, is a 1/2 mile dirt road, and the entrance fee is a voluntary donation and your John Hancock in a visitors log.

From the beach, the only guide to the cenote is a wooden sign, the stake stuck deep into the sand with an arrow pointing from the beach into the jungle. We showered outdoors before the trail head, as any sunblock, product, dirt, or chemicals on your body can harm the ecosystem of the pristine pools, and trekked further into the jungle, the sounds of waves crashing the only reminder that the ocean is only a stone's throw away.

Swimming in a cenote is the most refreshing experience I've ever had. I wanted to immerse my head and arms and whole body and come up for air over and over just to feel the coolness and fresh air mixed together one more time. I felt like a Mermaid, and an explorer at once.

I've never seen or experienced anything like cenotes while traveling, and for good reason - they're only found in that part of the world. 

Tulum Ruins - must see, must do

If you Google, "Tulum," you'll see a thousand of the same images, taken from every angle: Mayan ruins sitting atop a hill, with the turquoise Caribbean ocean lapping at the ancient rock. That image alone has put Tulum on the map. It's so breathtaking, it's hard to exercise self-restraint and not immediately book a ticket.

So you'd think we visited these ruins the second we stepped off the bus in the city. But we're not normal. We're weird. And so we did it last. We waited until after we'd seen the famed Mayan ruins of Chichen Itza and scaled the perilous temple of the ruin Mayan temple of Coba, In truth, I didn't expect much; I expected the Tulum ruins to be overrated, especially after what we'd seen.

I was so wrong, and the Tulum ruins blew me away and brought tears to my eyes and lit up my face and my heart. The Tulum Ruins are the smallest of the three sets we saw. There's a cracked wall around the old city that stops short of the beach, because the elevation and the ocean - well, what imposters and enemies could challenge that?

The ruins themselves are spread out. It's a small area, but I could walk around it for days. The sun shines brightest here, stays in your eyes and paints your skin. It's crowded; you should get here before 8:00am to beat the tour buses. But not a single one of the too many tourists can diminish this place.

The real magic is the ocean. There is a private beach below the ruins; you have to be a patron to use it. Swimming while looking up at towering, strong, defensive ruins is an experience I can never replicate anywhere else in the world. There's a reason that one image is so iconic of Tulum - you can't take your eyes off of it.

here's why | rehoboth beach, delaware

I love the drive from D.C. out to Rehoboth Beach, Delaware. It takes you through a panoply of settings - urban as you exit DC, suburban through the towns with Targets and shopping malls, scenic and awe-inspiring over the grand Chesapeake Bay, rural through cow pastures and farmhouses and property with acres that stretch endlessly, and finally, beach town.

Nine months ago, I'd never been there, though I'd heard plenty about the (in)famous summer parties at neighboring Dewey Beach. When Zander and I started dating, I knew his parents lived in Rehoboth because he often referenced summer fishing trips and weekend getaways (that I now know is a euphemism for "place to do my laundry"). In the last nine months, I've gone from a stranger to the area to familiar and comfortable with it to a Rehoboth enthusiast. 

A big reason why I love the drive out to Rehoboth is the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. The nearly 4.5 mile shore-to-shore behemoth is one of the longest of its kind in the world, shakes (like a salt shaker) when there's a modicum of wind, and generously offers up incredible views of the bay. Once, we spotted an un-submerged submarine. That has to be one of the coolest things I've ever seen, and it was a mere hour outside the District. We've crossed it on bright, sunshiny days, when the rain is coming down like pellets, when the wind has us gripping the steering wheel and door handles for dear life, and at sunset, my favorite.

Of course, the reason most people visit Rehoboth is for the beach. It's pretty gorgeous, right? This is Zan's dad, walking ahead of us Christmas Eve morning, the cold biting through our multiple layers. The dogs barely noticed it. Beach culture in Rehoboth is just like any other beach town - beer and laughter-filled during the summers and isolated in winter. Winter is my favorite. The mile long boardwalk (a great, easy, pretty run!) is empty, the ice cream and french fry stands boarded up, and the only other people you'll see are locals, who share a connected love of the forlorn boards and still amusement park rides. There's a certain, I don't know, je ne sais quoi, about a heavily touristed area that's silent, but for the rolling waves. It's beautiful.

Rehoboth has its secrets. Lordy, I love a place that holds its secrets close and tight. Most visitors eat pizza at Grotto's, when they should be having it served fresh and hot from Nicola. They shop at the Outlets on Route 1, when there are life-changing finds to be had at Hula Sue, boutique extraordinaire. The tourists grab a few groceries here and there where they find them, when a short jaunt takes you to Hickman's Meat Market, home to America's most incredible homemade chorizo, that I have to get every single visit. There's also "the farm," the best place for milk and honey and dairy galore, but I couldn't tell you where it is because it's off a side street I can never remember, and it's only open when it's open.

Beneath the sand-filled nooks and crannies exterior, Rehoboth is a foodie town, at its core. Take Shorebreak Lodge, a locals joint off the main strip, that serves some of the best wings I've ever had, has a killer wine list, and makes homemade edamame hummus that is to die for. Henlopen is one of Zan's parents' favorites for good reason. With a fresh oyster bar, and another incredible wine list, a bustling atmosphere and bartenders that remember your name from six months ago, it's the place to see and be seen. For low key nights that don't require much effort, I like Casa DiLeo, where the homemade tiramisu is the best thing on the menu.

Travel doesn't have to be costly or international. Travel can be at a new restaurant, a city you've never seen, the site of raindrops falling on a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, or a beach where the only prints in the sand are your own. Rehoboth is good travel. 

Here's why you should visit Rehoboth Beach, Delaware... 

1. crossing the Chesapeake Bay
2. fresh seafood, local markets, oenophile's dream
3. the beach, of course 
4. shopping (outlets + local boutiques)
5. you might just run into me some time! say hi ;)

welcome! to a new blog and 2013! + a holidays recap

Pinch me! Someone pinch me! It's 2013, and I have a new blog design and URL! This space is cleaner, prettier, and reflective of me. Don't be fooled, I'm not that talented! It's all because of the great Bobbi over at ready to blog. I can't wait to watch this little blog that could grow into a real steam engine in 2013.

This year is going to be big with an italicized big. I hope so, you know? I hope this year drives me to the brink of insanity with all its surprises and wonders and miles on trails and in running shoes and on frequent flyer accounts. I can only dream I'll be overwhelmed with choices in my career and personal life, tested to see how much I can grow and stretch (in character, not pants size, eh?), and given multiple opportunities to present my passport for stamping. (Side bar: I know stamps are all the rage now - making your own and being crafty, but my favorite kind are still Vintage Any Airport, Circa the Advent of Air Travel.) I am forward-looking, filled with hope and really freaking pumped for 2013. It doesn't hurt one little bit that 2012 ended like the party won't stop - with my lovin' man, the funniest roommate ever (try to challenge it!), friends, family and LOBSTAH killing. That last one is awkward, but it happened! I have photographic evidence to prove it, albeit blurry proof! I'm dating my very own Dexter, serial crustacean killer.

I spent Christmas in Rehoboth Beach, Delaware with Zander's family. I'll tell ya what... "We're not in Newnan, GA anymore, Theo!" was my refrain. If you follow me on twitter, perchance you witnessed the smorgasbord of intoxicated tweets, hashtagged, wait for it, #bourgiexmas (no, no, I will not storify this. Okay, I will consider it.). And by intoxicated, I mean wasted, y'all. With. His. Parents. My family doesn't drink. I mean, my mom will get drunk on a single frozen strawberry daquiri like nobody's business, but that doesn't count, does it? Probably not. Zan's parents put all parents to shame. Hell, they put us to shame. We went through approximately 18,000 bottles of wine on Christmas Eve. Zan and I were on our hungover deathbeds pretty much all day Christmas. The 'rents? Nothin' to it! Up and at 'em like kids on, well, Christmas morning! His parents spoiled me silly. Their generosity blew me away. I've never had a Christmas like this one, and I'll never, ever, not ever, forget it. I love my family, and I missed them terribly (the proof is in the drunken hour long phone call to my mother at 1:00am Christmas Eve... wooooops! More like #trainwreckmas!), but it was so special to be welcomed so warmly into Zan's family for this one. 

And then the Redskins won the NFC East title and are going to the playoffs.

And Zander and I saw the second movie in a theater of our entire relationship, and Skyfall was the best Bond movie. Ever. (Resolution: sit on our rumps in dark places and sip on $5 colas more in 2013!)

And Theo behaved himself, all of the time. It was so weird. I wanted to freeze frame all the sitting and lying down and listening he did. He listened! 

And then New Year's. Oh New Year's. I love you so! I think NYE is a magical night, that tells the tales of your year past and the one you're entering. All really drunkenly. What's more awesome than that? Only one thing. CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY. Zander let me talk him into hosting dinner at his condo (it's itty bitty, but it was perfect!). I cooked up a storm, and the guest list was short and sweet. Zan's sister-in-law and I wore the same shirt, so there was double the sparkle, double the fun, and somehow, someway, I don't have a picture of it (gasp!). Six of us ate just about every last bite, drank red and white and sparkling wines and played CAH, the game for horrible people, and we were horrible, and we rang in 2013 at one of our favorite wine bars, cheersing and kissing cheeks and lips and being so merry my cheeks are still rosy.

Here are some of the (not so great) photographic highlights of this joyfully long winter break. Tomorrow? Resolutions. I got 'em a plenty! 2013 is going to be big.