Come ride with me!

Yes! I’m now a cyclist

My boyfriend told me now that once I completed my first 25-mile bike ride; then that would make me a cyclist. I said, “As long as I don’t have to wear the matching bike outfit with the clip in shoes and the helmut. Have you seen my hair? This hairstyle doesn’t deserve to be covered under those hideous helmuts. Well, I lost out on the helmut fight. But, at least I found a cute fire engine red helmut to somewhat match my brand new red Fuji bike.

What have I gotten myself into? I haven’t ridden a bike since I was in grade school. Seriously!  And, I’m the one who talks about THOSE bike people who ride their matching outfitted asses in what seems like the middle of the street when I’m trying to get through traffic. They have such a sense of entitlement.  And, they don’t obey the traffic laws. Most of them NEVER stop at stop signs. They slow down at stop lights VS coming to a complete stop. Up until recently ,they didn’t even stop for pedestrians while in the middle of the cross walk. 

I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve envisioned myself pulling one of them off of their bikes by the back of their knapsack or jacket, if they came any closer to hitting me while in the cross walk. Then I remember, that I’m no longer that reactionary person and I dial it down.  

Forget about riding my new bike in the street; even in the bike lane. That WAS a No-NO for me. We were recently in Amsterdam, bicycle Capital, when he talked me into renting bikes for a ride through the city. I relented because he told me that we would ONLY stay on the bike path. Within the first three minutes on the bike, I was winded. And here I thought I was in shape. I was exhausted and my tushy hurt for three days afterwards.

Now that I’m back in Santa Monica and have my own bike, I’ve been riding three to four times a week. Yes, me! I even ride in the street a little bit. I ride my bike to work from Marina Del Rey to Santa Monica .  I ride my bike to meet friends for lunch at the 3rd Street Promenade.  When I’m on my bike,  my mood is instantly catapulted into a state of bliss, compassion and utter optimism. It’s such a magical experience.  There’s no other mode of transportation, outside of of this, where you can pull up to an intersection or at a dismount your bike and walk area on the beach bike path, and make small talk with other cyclists.  We sometimes make eye contact, shoot one another that smile that lets you know they too can relate to this amazing feeling of freedom atop of this 2-wheel small metal framed contraption called a bicycle.

Last week, while riding in the bike lane, side by side city buses and cars, I shared the lane with another cyclist. She had on a tank top and was casually cruising along in the same direction as I was.  By the time I caught up with her at the stop light, I was able to pass her up. I called it, “Tag you’re it. “Catch me if you can.  It was soo much fun. At the next stop light, she called out something to me that I couldn’t make out; as I did have to focus on traffic. By the third and final traffic light, we wished one another a safe side and a great day.  As i ride up and down the bike path from Santa Monica to Hermosa Beach, I sometimes lock eyes with people who show their sign of approval with a nod and a smile. It's a whole other wold on the bike.

The older we get, the less easy it becomes to stay open to trying new things.  I’m having fun with my new form of transportation, exercise and leisure.  I lovingly suggest you check out bike riding in your town. You might want to start by simply renting a bike for a couple hours and hitting a bike trail to see if it’s a right fit for you.  Happy riding.

Yahollywoodfitnessgotogurl

@Yahollywoodfitnessgotogurl

yahollywoodfitnessgotourl@gmail.com

When white girls act BLACK

Did you know that you don't own anything in this world. It's all a gif that is given, taken, stolen, borrowed, loaned and TEMPORARY. Every group of people like to take ownership of what they think is theirs. Black people have the patent on:

.  Corn rows

.  Hair Extensions

.  Rap Music

.  Spoken Word

.  R & B music

  Collard and Mustard Greens

.  Blues AND Jazz

while Caucasian American's have the copywrite on:

.  Elvis Presley

.  Rock-N-Roll

.  Janis Joplin

.  The Beatles  And

.  Hamburgers and French Fries

And the Mexicans have cornered the market on:

.  Salsa

.  Menudo

.  Spanish speaking language

.  Corn and flour tortilla   

.  Refried beans

.  Piñata

.  Telemundo

I used to think that whenever someone of another culture liked the same thing that I, as a Black-American woman liked, I would viciously accuse them of wanting to be black.  I would accuse them of being a sell-out. And don't let a Caucasian-American guy have rap skills or play a mean game of basketball. Not only was he TRYING to be black, but he liked black girls to. So, he was okay in my book. lol

Not until I learned to embrace all cultures and the beauty that we all bring to this melting pot of a world we live in, did I start to diminish those close-minded and shallow ways of thinking that really showcased not only my ignorance, but my lack of self-confidence.

It was recently brought to my attention this week, while on my 33rd day of my new yoga practice. I walked in the door of Sweat Yoga and was greeted in the usual cheery way by the lady behind the desk. I was running a little behind as I rushed to get into the room to stake claim on my favorite part of the room. We can be so territorial. lol. I was informed that a new yoga teacher had taken over the 7:45 a.m. friday slot and I was eager to meet her. She is cute, has a lot of energy, blonde, petite with a toned and athletic physique.  I instantly liked her. It was an energy thing. It had nothing to do with anything, but me feeling her energy. There was just something about her.  After ten minutes into the practice, I knew one of the reasons I liked her was we shared similar taste in music. Her playlist was bananas. Oh! By the way, for some of you square heads, bananas means it's:

.  Off the Chain

.  Da' Bomb

.  Good

.  I liked it

The second reason why I liked her was, like me, she likes taking photographs and selfies. Whoo Hoo! She's my kinda girl. She was open to taking pictures and exchanging instagram info.  

While I was holding an excruciating liver twisting...or organ drenching pose as, Deirdre, (my yoga teacher) puts it;  it hit me. I not once judged her for liking Urban music. I noticed she has rhythm and has a little swag about her. I saw my growth and heart openness during my yoga practice.  

I saw an opportunity for me to forgive myself for all of the years of judgement I had towards others; particularly those who were not Black-Americans who liked OUR music. Who liked OUR men. Who hung out at OUR clubs. Who ate OUR soul food.  Who danced OUR dances. Who attended OUR colleges and who wore their hair like we wear OURS.  Who do WE think we are?  We are all spiritual beings having this human experience. The longer we are here, the more evolved we are becoming.  

After all, I like THEIR music. I like THIER community. I like THEIR food.  I like the ALL that is THEM. The ALL that is all of us:

.  Latinos

.  Black-Americans

.  Native-Americans

.  Mexicans

.  Caucasian-Americans

.  Middle Eastern

.  Asians

.  Africans

.  Europeans

Love truly is the New Commodity and yoga is my new healthy addiction. It's more than a practice. It's a lifestyle. Who am I becoming?   lol

Yahollywoodfitnessgotogurl

@yahollywoodfitnessgotogurl

yahollywoodfitnessgotogurl@gmail.com