Fitness

Spin and Sip

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What’s better than a night of Spinning with your favs from the gym? A night of Spinning followed by a night of DRINKING! DUH. Last night we had the first in hopefully a series of #SpinAndSip nights at Brazenhead in Brooklyn. This night was in the making for almost two months. With all of our busy schedules, my constant weddings, etc., we finally settled on October 19th as the inaugural night. I must have said that date 100 times in my classes in the weeks leading up to it. I’m sure you all tired of my constant blacklight photos and boomerangs on Instagram to promote it. The night has come and gone, and it was as fun as I imagined. We started with a BOMB@$$ All 90’s #tbt playlist in spinning (you can find it here, FOLLOW ME ON SPOTIFY!), and then we headed across the street for some libations.

I visited two bars in the area to check what kind of drink specials I could finagle, and Brazenhead won out. I went to law school around the corner, and I had hosted multiple events at Brazenhead before so I knew they were game. Specifically, I hosted multiple nights of Sex Ed Trivia for Law Students for Reproductive Justice. Lingerie, pleather knee-high-boots, garters, etc. Anyway, as usual, I am getting off-track. The point is, Brazenhead is a great space, with a neighborhood feel, TVs, and a cute outdoor space in the back. PLUS, the manager, Sasha, said she would give us wristbands and extend their happy hour pricing for us from 8-10 pm. HELLO $6 gin and tonics!!

Unfortunately, they don’t serve food (besides free bar snacks, like pretzels), but the manager said she didn’t mind if we brought our own food. A couple of people picked up real food for dinner, but the real MVP of the night was Jeannine, who brought snacks for everyone. In true elementary-school-teacher fashion, she brought pita chips, carrot sticks, and hummus. What a champion.

We ended up having 16 people show up, including 3 instructors (myself included). #TeamDodgeYMCA! Brazenhead was so hospitable, I could not have asked for anything more. They gave us wristbands, the bartenders were awesome, and they even reserved a huge circular booth for us in the front of the place. We played a few rounds of “get to know you” games, learned each other’s names, learned how many years we had lived in New York, a learned a fun fact about each of us. I revealed that I once brought a snow cone machine to sleep-away camp #fatkidforever. Best of all, we got to hang out with each other off the bike.

It was a blast and I can’t wait to do it again. Next time, I expect an even larger turn-out! Now accepting all suggestions for the next hashtag: #SpinAndSipTake2 #SweatThenSwig #SpiritsAndSpinning #SwoleSippers

Not all of us got the “funny face” memo.
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Big City Living

Dante’s Inferno Subway Car

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20 days into summer and it officially happened to me. The most dreaded thing for all New Yorkers. And yet the most inevitable as well. No, I do not mean finding a roach in your apartment (inevitable). Or a mariachi band on your commute home after a 14-hour day (also inevitable). This is arguably worse than both: an un-air conditioned subway car.

You have heard the stories, and if you have ever lived through a summer in this steamy, garbage-stenched city, you have probably experienced it. This living horror story never happens when you are on your way home, minutes from a cold shower, or on your way to a pool where you can cool off (supposedly a few of these exist in Manhattan-proper; it’s like a unicorn). No, these 5-10 minutes of Dante’s Inferno hell ALWAYS happen on your way to work, or worse, on your way to an important business meeting or interview. This is Satan’s way of making sure that when you show up, you smell half like a homeless person, and half like rotting garbage, and your hair is plastered to your face to really accentuate your cheekbones and the mascara-tinged-sweat that is still slowly dripping down the sides of your previously well-made-up face. Am I exaggerating? Maybe slightly. But for the most part, no. This is by far one of the worst things that can happen to a New Yorker in the summer besides finding out your landlord is raising your rent 15% (this actually happened to me).

In the past, I have recounted several experiences in stream of consciousness, from my one and only half marathon, to my thoughts leading up to my first date with my emoji boyfriend. Dante’s Inferno Subway Car is one of those highly-relatable phenomena that lends itself to second-by-second analysis. Every second’s thoughts being mostly, “GET ME THE F*CK OUT OF HERE.” Read my thoughts below and let me know in the comments if you’ve ever had the same feelings.

  • “YES. Only 2 minutes until the next train. Maybe I’ll actually be on time.”
    • Note: You are ALWAYS running late when this happens, it’s like Newton’s 4th Law
  • “Empty car? This is too good to be true.”
    • Note: It’s ALWAYS too good to be true.
  • *doors open* “Hmm, the air coming out seems warm, is it warm?” *walks in car*
  • *doors close* “OMG I HAVE ENTERED THE GATES OF HELL. SOMEBODY HELP ME.”
  • “I have 3 stops, can I make it all the way there in this steam room of rotting human flesh?”
  • *looks around* “There are at least 10 other people in here that are managing. I can do this.”
  • “I CANNOT DO THIS. HOW ARE THESE 10 PEOPLE DOING THIS?!”
  • “3 stops to go, though, is it worth switching cars?”
  • “I’m switching cars at the next stop.”
  • *peeps through window to next car, sees it’s completely full*
  • “Ok maybe it’s actually better in here with all of my room! It’s hot, but at least no one else is in here.”
  • *legs slide down seat because of sweat between them* “It’s not better. Still 2 stops to go? I gotta get out of here.”
  • *train stops between stations* “You’ve got to be kidding me. Am I being Punk’d?”
  • *looks around, sees no cameras, sees a lot of other miserable people* “Why is no one else sweating as much as me?”
  • “Do you think they would notice if I wiped my face with my shirt?”
  • *wipes face with shirt* “SHIT I forgot I was wearing foundation. Now my makeup AND my shirt are ruined.”
  • “Who even cares, no one will be able to see past the fact that I look like I casually popped in a pool on my way here.”
  • “Remember that time when I blow-dried my hair this morning? LOL”
  • “Well at least I remembered waterproof mascara today. Was my eyeliner waterproof?”
  • “They should really advertise this specific situation in makeup commercials.”
  • “No, they shouldn’t. No one would buy a product with anyone in the commercial looking like how I look right now.”
  • “I know my parents constantly remind me that subways never had AC back in their day, but ‘their day’ was BEFORE GLOBAL WARMING WAS A THING.”
  • “What if I actually die in here? How long does it take to die from heat?”
  • “Ok, I’d probably faint first. That might be more comfortable than consciousness.”
  • “Is it possible to make oneself faint?”
  • “Then I’d definitely be late, though. But it would be a great excuse.”
  • *doors open* “One stop to go, switching cars!” *runs faster than I have in years of going to run club*
  • “OMG I never thought I’d get to heaven and yet here I am.”
  • “Are wet t-shirt contests still a thing? Because I think I’m #Winning”
  • “Does this count as my workout for the day? I think I sweat more in the past 7 minutes than I did in Spin class last night.”
  • “What are the chances I dry off before my destination? Probs slim to none.”

Well, there you have it. In all of its #sweatzilla, disgusting glory. Note to the tourists visiting NYC in the summer, BEWARE the empty subway car, don’t even bother trying to do your hair, and ALWAYS bring extra deodorant.

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Big City Living

Sizzling City Summer

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Yesterday was approximately 1009 degrees Fahrenheit. Who knows what that is in Celsius (really…  no one knows), but the point is, the second I left the house, I regretted it. And I started to count the hours until my next shower. 13. FML. If you haven’t noticed, New York City hates the heat. They also hate the cold, and love to complain about pretty much anything, but they especially hate the heat. That’s proven by our rise in violent crime in the summer. We get hot, we get angry, we literally kill each other. Seems logical.

There’s no avoiding the stifling heat. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s not even summer yet. That means it’s about to get EVEN WORSE. The heat is everywhere if you choose to leave home. And for some of us, due to our jobs, it’s inevitable on a Monday morning. The first sign of heat (besides the insufferable humidity and difficulty breathing) is the look on everyone’s faces. Gone are the friendly Christmas-in-New-York-Isn’t-The-Rockefeller-Tree-So-Pretty faces. New Yorkers are known for perfecting the RBF, but this version of Heat RBF is next level. Example of unspoken Heat RBF: “if you move one inch closer to me on this subway, I WILL CUT YOU.” No words are necessary. The eyes say it all.

Although the heat is undeniable and unavoidable, some places are worse than others. Here’s a list of the worst places to be in the heat:
  • Outside. We already covered this. Avoid at all costs. But if it’s impossible to avoid, reduce your outside time to small doses. That means if it’s more than 5 blocks away, it is now out of your “summer radius.” Enter Seamless/GrubHub/instacart. It’s worth the delivery fee. You’ll save that money in the amount of water you’ll save by not having to shower for the fourth time that day.
  • Rooftops. Plainly speaking, they are closer to the sun. Also, heat rises. It’s science. Some of us still believe in it. If someone asks you to grab drinks and chooses an outdoor rooftop in summer, with no air conditioning, they clearly hate you. Decline politely. Or not politely. Automatic swipe left.
  • Subway Stations. Now guys, I know this is unavoidable since we are already not walking more than 5 blocks. But if at all possible, avoid this. Can you take the bus? Subway stations are notoriously hot. Standing on the street in the heat and sun, though counter-intuitive, is actually much cooler than descending into this Hades-like death trap. It’s comparable to the depths of hell, I’m pretty sure. When people tell me I’m going to hell (happens a lot on the phone at the rabbi job), I generally tell them I am well prepared because I’ve been in a subway station in the summer. If it’s a subway station that has the option to wait upstairs, do that until the last possible moment. TRUST ME. Is it worth a cab? With MTA fares increasing every month, the answer is, probably yes. Or use Via. It’s only 5 bucks! (And you can get $10 free if you use my code emily5s6e #ShamelessPlug #HelpMeImPoor #InsertReminderThatIWentToLawSchoolForNoReason).
  • My Spin Class. The YMCA has been having some trouble controlling the temperature in the Spin room. 33 people. 33 bikes. 4 fans are simply not enough. So far, no one has fainted in my class but it is only a matter of time. I accidentally closed the door for 3 minutes (one song), and the mirrors in the front of the room completely fogged up. I drew a heart with my finger. But what I really wanted to draw was “KILL ME.” For some reason, nobody left before the 60 minutes of class were over. I would like to credit my amazing playlist (follow me on Spotify!), but I think these people are just SUPER-driven. If I wasn’t teaching, you can bet I would have pranced out of there by the second song.
  • A Subway Car with No AC. At this point, most New Yorkers have read about the epic F Train Near-Massacre last week. Everyone’s worst nightmare: the subway was between stops with no wifi, and it lost power. No power = No AC. People were stuck for almost an hour. They stripped off their clothes. They asked for help by writing on the fogged up windows like in my spin class. They screamed. They cried. Horrific. This phenomenon of subway cars with no AC requires its own blog post. For now, just know that as a rule of thumb, this is the ultimate thing to avoid.

Long story long, there’s no good place to be in New York City in the summer. It’s crowded, it’s hot, and it’s way too small. There are bad places, and there are worse places. My advice: make friends with someone who has a house in the Hamptons. Then tell me who they are, because I’ve been here 7 years and I haven’t found one yet. Godspeed, fellow New Yorkers, it’s going to be a scorcher. And please, for the love of god, do not forget deodorant. 

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