athlete profiles and features
The moment any athlete reaches the champion’s podium, they get a platform.
From that position of success, athletes get a chance to teach, share and inspire others to reach their full potential, whether it’s through philanthropy, charity, workshops or self-run programs. So when the moment of glory finally comes — when that platform finally rises — the athlete often asks herself:
“What am I going to do with it? What’s my message?” [Cont.]
It’s the 2012 White House Easter Egg Roll and President Barack Obama is doing pushups on his basketball court.
It’s not what you’d expect from the President during one of the most carefree days at the Capital, but it happened, and Fatima “TNT” Lister was there to bear witness. Never in her entire basketball career did she imagine she’d see this scene in person. [Cont.]
This is a story about tears and the many emotions contained within them.
It’s a tale about emotions, the memories coloring them and the sometimes daunting change of identity that comes with accomplishment.
Our heroine? An albino woman named Brandi Darby who became the first legally blind woman to medal at a USA Weightlifting event last July. And if she’s being honest with you, she’ll say it was an honor she wasn’t sure she was ready to accept.
In fact, the day she walked into the American Open Series 2 in Valley Forge, Pa., Brandi didn’t even think that making history was a possibility.
She was too busy taking in her surroundings. [Cont.]
Essays I've Edited
The morning they came to my door, I didn’t hear them knocking.
I was sound asleep in my dorm room in the Rio Olympic Village, trying to get in my eight hours before the 100-meter backstroke finals. I had trained 17 years for my Olympic opportunity, and I was one of the favorites to win the gold in that event. I wanted to be fully rested for my race.
I had it all planned out. I was going to wake up with enough time to go through the routine I’ve been following for as long as I can remember, one that I’ve found works for me: eat my peanut butter and jelly, get to the pool early, stretch, swim some laps, practice my flip turns….
But sometimes things don’t go according to plan. [Cont.]
So here’s the lye: You can find it right in Aisle 5. It’s the active ingredient of a white chemical cream that sits in mini tubs in the haircare section in your average American drugstore. Lye is good for taking the kink right out of a nappy head. It’s supposed to give any black girl the long, soft tresses of the brown model smiling on the box. The process is called “hair relaxing.” If your tired old coils need a spring vacation, try brands like “Dark and Lovely” or “African Pride.” These products get right at the roots, and one kit costs only $6.79. Lye is also used for curing foods like pretzels and olives. It makes a good base for drain cleaners or any agent needed to dispose of large amounts of road kill. Just ask 1939 serial killer Leonarda Cianciulli, who used the chemical to turn three dead bodies into soap. [Cont.}
It's because I'm black, isn't it?
Those were my thoughts as I strolled the sidewalk to my new home in Japan, and a woman swerved her minivan upon seeing me. I remember how her shock made me smile. I remember her fixed stare, the way she fixed her hair, then adjusted the wheel. And I continued to saunter along, knowing my blackness had power. Here it drew attention and brought wonder, and I learned that sometimes it paid to be a token in this country. [Cont.]
I didn’t know that I needed her until it was too late.
Ciara McCormack became the new assistant soccer coach of the varsity team when I was a senior at Yale University. We had never had a female coach before and I thought she was all sorts of cool. Whenever it got cold, for example, she often walked into the locker room wearing a beanie and low-rise sweatpants that screamed soccer swagger. [Cont.]
When it comes to fitness on social media, we tend to be inundated with the same images: Thin bodies. Flat abs. Tight butts. In short, "perfect" bodies — or at least, to society's standards anyway. On Instagram, the idea of "fit" only looks a certain way, leaving many people — especially women of color — out of the picture.
But Lita Lewis, a fitness influencer based out of L.A., is teaching women how to love their bodies no matter what. With over 500 thousand followers on Instagram, the 35-year-old Aussie has inspired many by using #ThickFit and hosting boot camps all around the country. She wants to show the world that women that "fit" comes in different shapes and sizes.
Lewis is so passionate about what she does because for a long time she didn't fully embrace her muscular frame. It took her some time and she understands what many other women go through when it comes to self-acceptance. [Cont.]
If you’re a seasoned CrossFitter, chances are you’ve reached a point where doing “constantly varied functional movements at high intensity” can feel a bit … bleh.
You know those days when you walk into the gym and everything just feels super heavy? Your body. The barbell. Even your gym bag?
But it’s more than that. Emotionally, you just don’t feel present and you’re finding that there are more and more days where you’d rather not WOD. Maybe you’re even bored.
The irony is that as “constantly varied” as CrossFit is, you can still grow tired of it. [Cont.]
Chances are if you are checking out this article, you’re looking for some sort of “Magic Pill” to bounce back from injury. “Magic Pill” meaning:
A special supplement.
A revolutionary stretching technique.
A superfood like Manogsteens (oooh!).
A therapeutic puppy.
I’d give you a puppy if I had one.
But to really give you what you came here for, I’m going to have to press pause on any physical solutions you’re pondering. Instead I’ll be your physician, operating on the level of narrative. [Cont.]
There are some models that transcend the catwalks—through stop-you-in-your-tracks stunning magazine covers to so-charming-you’ll-buy-whatever-they-are-selling-commercials, to history smashing ad campaigns—and who’ve achieved superstardom. These are the most iconic supermodels of the last 31 years. [Cont.]