I like to do things in extremes. Like, either I'll be addicted to the gym and train *all* the damn time, or I will roll around in piles of chocolate and Haribo Tangfastics and Pizza Hut (stuffed crust, obviously). The last few months have seen me hitting the gym again preeetty damn hard and I don't know what I was doing before, tbh. One way of summing it up is: "'I really regret that workout' said no one ever." And it's sooo true. If only we could bottle our endorphins so we could remember just how awesome it feels to be going to the gym on a regular. Because the thing is it's far more than just our bodies which improve in the process (although that's for suuure a bonus) but our minds and our moods, too.
A perfectly manicured and curated digital feed is the norm these days. Perhaps that’s why an increasing number of people are setting up second Instagram accounts: a private “Finstagram” to their public-facing “Rinstagram.” Think of it as your weekend, sweatpants-wearing self (Finstagram), lurking in the shadows behind your buttoned-up weekday self (Rinstagram). I explored this in a feature for The New York Post...
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