so it happened. it needs to happen. we all have our off days. in my case sometimes it’s an off year, but we’ve all had that week-old, moldy, rotten peach pit in our stomach feeling of walking away from a job not so well done, wishing for a do-over.

last night i taught a spin class SO not ready for prime-time when i looked up at the end of class i was shocked to still see riders. 

i sucked. i deserved to have my certification revoked. here, take my lululemon wunder-under crops {in reversible grey} back from me. i am no longer eligible for such chafe resistant luxury. 

someone! find out! when’s the next prancercise training in my area? i need to move on.

not 2 minutes into a sick depeche mode/marilyn manson mash-up where i had aspired to lead my 30+ warriors up a hamstring busting, soul-stirring, and record-setting mountain climb did a meddlesome, distracting and errant particle of brain break off from my cerebral cortex, and have its own private rave in my eye. {of course to the beat of 136 bpms.} 

too befuddled with the ocular disco taking place on my pupil i missed cues, elapsed time, gear changes, earthquakes, and gorilla stampedes. or at least that could have happened, how would i know? i was too wrapped up in mourning the loss of my vision: would i ever see my husband’s smile again? we never did make it to the grand canyon, and will i still be able to dress cute?

do remember saying the word “bullshit” amid a motivational cue—which if you’ve taken my classes you would know is COMPLETELY out of character. the most i swear in a class is a “hell yes” or “damn” here and there. but an actual cable-tv swear word? what the fuck katie? what next? an exposed midriff and sport’s bra?


i felt so bad about my amanda bynes performance i came home and properly hydrated with a friendly, halfway full, russian bottle that looked vaguely familiar from my sorority pledge night.

or did that night involve a russian fraternity boy and me drinking a bottle of pledge?

does it really matter? #college #ucla #initiation 
i'mfine i once taught my coreplay class with the full-blown, projectile vomit stomach flu. i couldn’t find a sub so i’d put everyone in plank, started counting, turned up my music, and threw up in a trash can behind the studio mirror in 60 second intervals. poor souls had never done so much plank in their lives. they might have even puked themselves. it was still a great class, and the students were nice. 

teaching classes is such a different beast now. with online ratings these days instructors have to be 1000% on their game and then some, or risk being written up on yelp or rateyourburn–{which is a whole ‘nother post i’ve actually had other instructors ask me to blog about.}

i’ve always vowed to keep all of my online reviews positive. trust me, i have had and do have fantasies of ripping several service providers, people and businesses into moldy string cheese.

but those bad online reviews are more a reflection of me i think….that i would take the time and energy to put something negative out in world about another person {albeit deserved,} doesn’t sit right with my sensitive, over-fed stomach.

what are your thoughts on online reviews? do you write them? do you write negative ones? most of the people i love and respect write negative reviews so no judgy here. hell i’m gonna need a new job soon, i’ll be kissing your bottom from here to moscow.

tuesday happy to you m’loves.


one-eyed katie