Walk this Way

{Jumpsuit c/o Blush Boutique, moto jacket by GAP, Clutch by Clare Vivier, Sunnies by Céline}

Please hold while I gloat: There’s been a shift and I’m now unequivocally infatuated with working out. As in, I’ve been hitting the Pilates reformer, Barry’s Bootcamp and pavement for jogs 6 (six!) days a week. The tragic news in this newfound neurosis? I’m 101% certain my workout fetish will fizzle and die in a week or so like all my other oddball obsessions which include and are not limited to:

A) Beanie Babies: This itch lasted roughly one week in college where I accumulated 435 fluffy creatures with cutesy names which collect dust until this very day. 

B) Salt & Pepper shakers: This particular obsession lasted a lengthy two years yet died a quick death when I realized things were getting out of control. As in, my parents were gifting me salt shakers for Christmas instead of the usual IT handbag. DIE.

C) Dream Catchers: Ehr-ma-gawd. I went through this granola/hippie/tree-hugger phase post-graduation and swore these Native American hoop-shaped thingamajigs would give me good juju and sweet dreams — and hopefully, an engagement ring (emerald cut with baguette side stones, please) from my then boyfriend. So obviously, I bought 14 of these boldly colored bad boys in the Everglades. I still have them squirreled away in my closet because I’m now convinced that eradicating them from my home will only elicit night tremors. And perhaps other shady shit.

The moral of the story? I’m capricious. While I hope and pray this current workout mania lingers for a while — my rich history of quickie love affairs proves otherwise. Until then, I’m going to enjoy this cardio-loving crush.