No Judgment Day – I ran 6 miles by the waterfront in BK


I ran to EVERYTHING this morning on repeat.  I pictured being in a foreign city, not speaking the language, not knowing anyone, and running for hours through the sunrise by the water.

This song felt like a place I want to go to… Like a state of mind I wish I could maintain

Instead, in real life, I feel permanently exhausted

I never knew I could love my kids as much as I do.  I’ve been blindsided by this love.

And I never knew that the weight of this love would wear me down.

I never knew how much I would need the community around me to maintain sanity as I raised them.  I never new how fearful I would be of what the people around me thought of my choices.

In the past, I always stood tall by my choices but I think I share this realization with many mothers when I say: no matter how confident you may be in your choices u always kind of wonder how other people will react to them when you’re raising a child.

You want to set an example and be strong willed but you also feel like u want to surround your kid with good kids who’s parents make good choices.  So we end up judging.  Why? Because we’re scared.  Because we judge ourselves all the time.  Because we have no idea how to protect our children from the things that may go wrong…

But we really shouldn’t judge each other during this vulnerable time.

Easier said than done.

Why do we get on each other’s case and rip into each other behind closed doors while we readily admit to ourselves and our therapists that we think we are fucking up every single day?

I know so many kids who grew up with amazing and loving parents, went to incredible schools, had amazing opportunities and endless support, and are now alone and unhappy.

This isn’t to say we shouldn’t TRY to give our children everything.  This isn’t to say we shouldn’t be supportive and open minded to their choices…

On the flip side, this does not go to say we shouldn’t judge others choices because let’s be honest: we will.  We are human and that’s what humans do…

But maybe we can give each other a break?  Maybe give ourselves a break?

Half the time I truly don’t know what is right or wrong.  Is pretending the right thing to do? Should I make it seem like I have it all under control when I’m really holding it all together with safely pins and hoping nothing comes apart at the wrong time?

Let’s not forget that our choices are half chance. Let’s hope for the best and Maybe get off each other’s backs? Maybe then we could learn how to give ourselves a break as we could all really use it.

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My Life on mute and the sound of snow… 70 minutes by the water in Dumbo


I stopped writing because I’m bored by what I say.

Today was beautiful.

The snow fell everywhere and no one was out… I was alone.  The city felt like it was on mute.

My life feels on mute.

I still have my run.  I remind myself to feel proud.

Everything is silent and quiet and steady… and I’m in it… all alone.

I know why I keep going out there… but I’m not sure how I haven’t quit yet.  I don’t recognize the part of myself that pushes me out the door… But I know that it’s the part of me that I like the best.

Sometimes I think about how I knew everything when I was little.  Why can’t I go back there?

This run might be my only proof that I’m still in there.. So I’m hanging on to it.

I insist.

…and I insist on believing in magic.  The kind of magic that leaves small minded people feeling uncomfortable.

…and I’m well aware that In the end it will either save me or wreck me.

Today was beautiful… Like a picture I couldn’t touch

…and It was cold and white … and I know this can’t actually be true but I could hear the snow.

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60 minutes in the park. Stuck words….

Today my run felt like it was 5 min long.  I was deep In thought and I ran faster than I have in a while…

Zoey is turning 4 in October.

Sometimes Zoey wants to say something but it won’t come out.  Her words get “stuck”.  So she starts to cry and sometimes stomps her feet and sometimes hits whomever is trying to talk her out of it… She gets into this trance that I used to define as “Fucking INSANE!!”

For a long while I had no idea how to pull her out of it..

Every time it happened I would get so frustrated.  I would put her in a time out.  Sometimes I would put myself in a time out…

I Googled “tantrums in 3 year olds” and read about how this was “normal” and “happens all the time” and found all this advice on how to “prevent tantrums” and “end tantrums”

Still.. I was never able to understand where they came from.  I wasn’t convinced that all 3 year olds “just do this”

z stuck

Kids are just like us right?… Little people who get frustrated at the things that bother them. Different people get bothered by different things… RIGHT?



Anyway… I couldn’t figure out what was bothering Zoey.

Now I know: Her words get “Stuck”.  Sometimes when she wants to say something or ask for something she just can’t.

When I was running today I was thinking about being misunderstood… about how it feels… how it leaves u lost…

I’m often misunderstood.

My words are never stuck.

…But sometimes I really wish they were.





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Hudson: I’m over you. 60 quiet minutes in the blazing sunshine….

Every time I used to run on the Hudson I felt like I was revisiting an old friend.  I have always loved returning to my original running zone and telling it stories about everything that’s happened in my life since my last visit.

Just to be clear: I don’t actually TALK.  I’m not retarded.  Its more of an internal conversation.

Today I didn’t want to “talk”.  I’m over you Hudson.  I’m over your expensive bullshit and your beautiful expansions and your oversized gym and retarded movie trailers and lunch spreads.  I’m over the CSI intern circus, running around like the coffee they are holding is about to save someone’s life.  I’ve had so many fantasies about running into one of those bullshit, frantic teenagers.

I’m OVER you Hudson.

I’m over your bullshit.

And, yes I MIGHT always love you a LITTLE bit.. BUT I’m no longer interested in looking back.  There are so many places in this world and I think it’s time I find a new favorite route.

It’s not prospect park – I’m pretty sure of that…

I’m not sure where in the world it is… but I can’t wait to figure it out


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60 minutes in Prospect Park – My new coping mechanism is born today

Yes running is amazing and great but guess what: It’s not enough anymore.

It’s not enough to keep me sane through this “phase”.

So… Here is a new thing I’m incorporating into my life:

When I want to scream/cry/run away I drop to the floor and do 50 situps.  I know this sounds insane but really it’s not at all.  Think about it.  If you could apply all your angst/fear/overwhelmingness to your abs – you’d have a six pack.

According to my calculations, in about one week I should look like this:


So… what am I waiting for?

I mean… I’m producing an independent show for Dreamworks, Applying for jobs, and developing another show on the side – all the while raising two girls who are literally INSANE and TINY PEOPLE.

Raising a 4 year old and 8 month old is like being a personal assistant of an alcoholic, ADD, ADHD, OCD rockstar with serious anger management issues.  The only difference is that you can’t walk away.  You can’t quit this job.  OH and nobody pays you.

50 sit ups.  This is my new coping mechanism.

And if it doesn’t work I’m resorting to alcohol.


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70 minutes in prospect Park… Lost in thought… Hero on repeat

My song of the day… looping it to death… Can’t stop

My brain felt both quiet and loud today… I’m always thinking so much…

Today I’m searching for a neutral place in my head… I could have run forever

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65 minutes in Prospect park.. IN. THE. HEAT.

It’s REALLY humid out and I came back from my run looking gross.  I seriously looked like i dove into a pool of my own sweat.

I’ve been thinking about job stuff nonstop… My career, my potential, the people I choose to work with and how I go about my work…
I realized that not having a schedule and working from home has made it easy to eat junk food.  Eating Junk food clouds my mind.  A clouded mind makes for a less productive mind.  A less productive mind feels uninspired and creates less.  Less creation causes boredom and lack of momentum… and it’s just a vicious cycle.
I realized that no matter where this life takes me I am better off when I’m around people and working on things that inspire me.
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60 minutes in Prospect Park… Fuck this humid NYC heat….

I ran for 60 minutes in the Park today thinking about how I’m ruining Riley’s life because I dropped her off at daycare…

rye yea

I do realize that I drop her off like a total nut job mom type every day.  But I honestly don’t care.

She is 7 months old and she NEEDS her pacifiers to be freezing cold, her formula to be just the right “warm temperature” and she needs to fall asleep with a blanket I freshly sprayed with “See” by Chloe because that’s what mommy smells like so f*uck all ya’ll if u don’t like it.

I hate myself.

I’m THAT mom that leaves and they All roll their eyes and probably are like “fucking get a nanny and keep her at home of that’s how specific your needs are” but I don’t want to.  I want her to be around kids and I want the teachers to remember everything I say because honestly if I had that job I would.  I know I would because I’ve done MUCH harder jobs that requires a lot more juggling and once I take something on that requires attention to detail I don’t take it lightly.  I pay attention to the fucking details.

I crush it.

I expect these people to do the same.  Especially since they are the reason I can’t even consider going to Paris for a weekend.

I decided to come to terms with the fact that sometimes I’m an asshole.  I’m not going to pretend it’s not true.  I know I am.  I know it sucks.  I own this shitty aspect of my personality and right at this point in my life I choose to NOT work on it.

It’s so frekin hot and humid and as torturous as it is I’ve been feeling pretty good afterwards…  Thank GOD for running… I needed to get a lot of frustrations out today… Clearly.

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60 minutes in Prospect Park – it’s 80 degrees and i’m SOAKED

Today’s run was a serious detox… I’m chugging water as I type…

Riley is over 7 months old


I run every day but never have time to write about it…

So often I have nothing to say…

Often I do but have no time to write them down…

Often I’m lost for words.. I wish I could somehow save my thoughts without having to find a way to express them.  Maybe I need to just take pictures of myself.  Perhaps the expression on my face says it all?


Raising kids is hard

Riley is at daycare right now.  It’s her third “day”.  I left her there for one hour the first day and two hours the second day… It’s been an hour and a half since I dropped her off and I am SO on edge like a crazy person….

Riley is the sweetest little person… I can’t handle the idea of anyone ignoring her or letting her cry.. It literally crumbles my senses….

Zoey is almost 4…


She is a really intense little person who is extremely specific about her needs and sometimes it seriously drives me up the wall.  It’s so hard… She is literally the sweetest little girl and her imagination and reasoning is brilliant… but she’s 4… and she FREAKS out for reasons I don’t understand all the time…

I’m trying to get better at understanding these reasons… I’m trying to get better at being patient…

The other day she called me a monster and it crushed me.

That night she said she was sorry and I melted…

I always thought I would never grow up but I honestly think the moment I grew up was the same moment Zoey was born… and again when RIley was born…

So now I’m a grown up… But when I’m running I still get to be a kid…

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