I love to Stand Up Paddle. I fantasize about having my own board, hoisting it up on my car, and taking off to paddle anywhere and everywhere. I imagine a wardrobe of rash guards, and maybe a special pair of Cudas or Tevas, just for my new life on my board. And a paddle. Oh, a paddle. My very own, extra-long paddle, made especially for a woman of Amazonian height.
...before you die?
Downer of a question? Or the only question?
Some things change, some things stay the same. But New York never, ever disappoints.
When I was growing up, there were camp girls and not-camp girls.
I was a camp girl.
Before yoga, there was running. There were countless miles on the city streets of New York and LA and San Francisco. And on good days, really good days, there were trails: long and lush and green, winding around lakes and along the curves of mountains. When I was running, I was in heaven.
