Ms. Dunham's Genius

"No, I am not a sexpert, a psychologist, or a dietician. But I am a girl with a keen interest in having it all, and what follows are hopeful dispatches from the frontlines of that struggle."

Lena’s new book, Not that Kind of Girl: A young woman tells you what she's 'learned,' is a comforting hug for all of womankind. Her stories meld together in a dry fondue of awkward sexual encounters, body dysmorphia, loving friendships, and general angst that encompasses the experience of young girls and women in our society. I found in her book a sense of comradery—which is certainly what she sought to forge. She reaches across the page like an empathic friend giving you the last bite of the chocolate croissant upon recounting a night of questionable consensual sex. Cause let’s be honest, all young women get ‘fucked’ by society in many ways, shapes, and forms. Ms. Dunahm, with her trademark wit and biting candor, unapologetically calls out said-‘fucking’ and breathes hope into the future of femininity without sanguine reverie or direct condemnation of patriarchy. Men and women alike, to give a unique insight into some themes prominent in young females’ experience, should read this book and honor a creative luminary of our generation, Lena Dunham.

Yoga Ruins Your Life

Here is a little edit from a great yoga studio that I've had to pleasure to practice at. It's called the yoga workshop in Boulder, led by renowned Ashtangi Richard Freeman. Just a nice peek into the wild world of Mysore style Ashtanga yoga. I've been yearning to dig deep into my daily practice again now that the marathon is over. Videos like this remind me of the 'tapas' or fire I feel when I practice. Enjoy.


Yoga Ruins Your LIfe from Yoga Workshop on Vimeo.

The Portland Marathon

At the starting gate!

7am pre-race hugs

crossing the St. Johns bridge. mile 17

hugs from my monkey after finishing. Feeling nauseous and proud :/

#teamKendall

sister support <3

Taffy loves my medal

Time for beer

 

Yesterday I ran 26.2 miles nonstop, averaging 9min 20sec per mile. I didn’t chafe, my blisters were minimal, I never felt out of breath—it was exhilarating and exhausting. And man oh man did I get my fill of endorphins cascading down my spine, hamstrings, and calves. It’s easy to paint the past through rose-colored tints—once an accomplishment is finished it doesn’t seem as daunting. But I’ll be honest when I say that this marathon has been a journey and then some.

I signed up for the race way back in March while I was predominantly sedentary, coming off a stint of living in India and getting almost zero exercise. My base was maxed at around 6 miles, running like 11 min miles or something ridiculous. Needless to say, I wasn’t in the best shape of my life.

Why did I register? Why does anyone register for these things? I think I felt a sense of “fuck it, I can do it,” mixed with an urge to get my ass kicked and have something to focus on other than my overwhelming ‘newness’ in this city I just moved to. Mostly, I yearned for that sense of freedom that accompanies being able to run far and fast and through the shits and through the leg fatigue until those surges of ecstasy course through your veins.

You could say I caught the bug a year ago when I decided to run 21miles on my 21^st birthday. I trained for about 10 weeks, ran it alone on April 1st in the national forests around Missoula, Montana, having setup ‘water stations’ the night before since my college buddies were too hungover to commit to helping me out. During training, and after the run I felt like I was satisfying some primordial beast within, pushing mental/physical limits and also my understanding of myself.

There is certainly a zen-component to running long distance. It is reminiscent of intense Ashtanga yoga sessions, where you are forced to dive deep within yourself and just keep moving through the motions, the breath. Of course it takes a while to cultivate this meditative relationship with running, at least for me. At first, I would attack training runs—listening to pump-up music without any sense of pacing and wear myself out. Soon you learn that you have to relax into the run, relax into the uncomfortability building up in your shoulders, your feet, your quads—and lean into it, cherish it almost, because if you push through you feel higher than any drug could ever make you.

I have been thinking a lot lately about how I can live my yoga without having a rigorous daily practice. Maybe I’ve been hanging around Ashtangis for too long, such that I feel guilty for attributing so much time to an activity other than the primary series. But I’m starting to see how the principles of yoga can be applied to many discaplines. And what yoga is really about is becoming a better, more mindful human; it shouldn’t matter the path through which you attain that. Patience, letting go, being present, dissolving ego-driven action—all of these practices have been strengthened through my running (although Guruji would cringe at the tightening of my hamstrings).

These were my mantras yesterday whilst pounding the pavement in a sea of neon bodies: “focus on the breath; loosen up the shoulders; easy posture, light strikes; if it feels like work, you’re going too fast; lose yourself in the movement.” And I fucking did it.

I remember at one point during training, my brother-in-law was asking me how it was going and I replied, “After this marathon, I’m never going to run again.” Maybe I have retrograde amnesia because I’m already looking up ultramarathons around Portland for next spring while I lay lathered in Tiger Balm, muscles crippled from the previous day’s ventures. Here’s to pushing limits and sweating profusely!

thug kitchen

This shit is hilarious. I'm totally buying the book. Check out some awesome plant-based recipes on their site. This is one of my favorites.

Scott Jurek--Ultrarunning Machine

I first heard about Scott Jurek while reading Born to Run--a book written by Christopher McDougall about the Tarahumara running tribe and as a call for minimalist, meditation-based running. He speaks about handling discomfort mindfully--using breath, awareness, and just keeping on until "those little glimpses of flow, or easy movement" carry you away. This feeling of freedom, of pure bliss, of being able to go forever while the fountain of endorphins trickle down your scalp-- disengaged from modern day mental clutter and boiled down to just one foot in front of the other, despite the immense pain and your muscles screaming at you to stop--this is why I fell in love with distance running. Hopefully I can take in some of Scott's wisdom, as well as stay focused on the reasons I got involved, and apply it to my race in one week! First marathon here we come.
 


 These are some of my favorite quotes:

"You're tapping into that primitive, body function survival things going on. And also, there are times when I'm running and even though I've been in discomfort for 20,30,40 miles, sometimes it just feels like I'm floating and that I can run, you know, forever. And those little glimpses of like, flow, or just, I guess ease of movement is what I think a lot of people are searching for with endurance sports."

"Discomfort and adversity are somethings that life, is really full of. I've learned a lot from the ultrarunning sport that I can apply to my life because...there are plenty of times when I'm out running when it hurts just as much as everyone else. And it's about accepting that as part of the journey. In order to get to the top of the mountain, the discomfort and the fatigue and the struggle is part of it and I think, once you appreciate it, you don't try to avoid it."

Three Sisters: 50 miles, 3 nights, 4 burly humans

I woke up at dawn today, still in sync with mother nature's rhythm from the backcountry. I hobbled down the stairs to make my coffee and greet my garden. My feet look like I dipped them in a pot of hot acid (fucking blisters) and my mind is on stimulation overload from all the man-made hustle. It's amazing what a few days 'unplugged' will do for the mind.

A 50 mile loop in 4 days around the base of three magnificent volcanoes in the Three Sisters Wilderness in central Oregon. The four of us set off on the first day from Portland. 6am! We planned the night before. 9:30 rolls around and I'm having my second french press coffee and a bagel, waiting for the crew to get their shit in order.

Due to inevitable miscommunications and obvious coffee breaks, we hit the trailhead around 3pm--needing to huck 12+ miles before sundown. Heads down we trucked into the 'burnzone' on the east side of las hermanas. Apparently there was a huge fire here last year, so all the water-sources marked on my trusty map had dried up. We were in a pickle, cruisin at 20min miles, takin no breaks, trudging and trudging trying to find a creek to camp by. To no avail--we set up camp in the dark in a pile of ash and nibbled on cold pop-tarts before collapsing into our tents.

 

 Dawn brought a new light. Although we were all itchin for some coffee...we ate a few power-bars, rolled a few spliffs and set off at first light--ready to charge 15+ miles and get the fuck out of this burnzone.

 3pm: We had hot lunch at Green Lakes--oriental flavored top-ramen and three cups of coffee. We all took a nap under the alpine sun and soaked our feet in the glacier melt. It was glorious. Only 5 more miles to go for the day!

 I don't even remember setting up camp that night at Moraine Lake because I was so delirious from blister pain and pure exhaustion. Me and Jesse fell asleep giggling with altitude-fuzzied brains before sundown. I woke up to this scene--the pup Isabel tryin to play fetch and the South Sister basking in her morning alpine glow.

 We joined with the Pacific Crest Trail this morning and wove our way through Doug-Fir forests and alpine meadows. Each of us in the groove of truckin, chattin, eatin, and laughing. I love the way the wilderness sluffs off pretense and rubs people into a clan of sorts.

We cut out early and set up camp at Reese Lake because it was too good to be true. All alone at this crystal clear lake with the South Sister towering over-us--her crater echoing power. We laid in the meadows reading, swam in the lake, built a fire, and gazed at the stars.

 Dawn on our last morning. We knew it was gonna be a tough day because we didn't meet our expected mileage the day before. 6am. 13 miles togo. 4 humans and a pup in rough shape--held together by spliffs, advil, and duct tape. We set off in silence for the last, most beautiful leg of our trip.

Jesse feelin it ALL

 At the top of Opie Pass. These volcanoes make for such desolate landscapes. I felt like I was knocking on the gates of Mordor trudging up those switchbacks.

Las Hermanas

The North and Middle Sisters

Map questin

  We all felt like we had tested our limits with this hike. I love the feeling of getting my ass kicked by mother nature. Placing one foot in front of the other up and down mountain passes, through pain, sunshine, and rain is humbling---it quiets the soul from all the menial bullshit of day-to-day life. It puts in perspective the reality we humans create and prioritize beyond the power of nature.