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. 

summer showers

 

I showered outside for the first time the other weekend.

Matt came with Zander and me to Rehoboth, Delaware for the weekend. We took him to our favorite beaches, down the boardwalk, stuffed our face with boardwalk fries (another first for me!), rode bicycles - all the while hoping desperately that Zander, our recklessly fearless leader wouldn't get us killed, and brought back pink noses and sun-highlighted hair to show for our efforts. Zan's mom welcomed us all in with open arms, except when we were covered with sand. Then she ushered us quickly to the showers - and since there were three of us and two showers inside, she suggested someone use the outside shower. 

I volunteered so quickly you'd think it was for a make your own sundae bar instead of bathing myself. I ran - really, with a bounce in my step, outside. I full on showered with soap and shampoo and conditioner and suds and bubbles and skipped wrapping my hair in a towel after I turned the water off so I could feel the drops dry on my skin.

It might be ordinary for anyone who owns a beach house, but it was bold and daring to me. I felt the warmth of the sun as it shined down on the parts of me I never show it, the ones reserved for inside the four walls I call home and house and hotel. Like a rebel and a hippie, a naturalist and a minimalist - all the fantasies of a different kind of wondrous life, wrapped up in a single outdoor shower. I lived a little more.