The Supermoon Made Me Do It

{Wearing: Coverup: Vintage BCBG. Bikini: Luli Fama. Sandals: Gap. Photographed by Maria Tettamanti.}

Scientifically, the Supermoon is when a full or new moo’s elliptical orbit is closer to Earth, making the moon seem larger when viewed from our little blue-green planet. But what it also represents, from an astrological point of view, is insight, intuition and an opening of our hearts. In layman’s terms: YOLO (you only live once).

Basically, Maria, whom I do Pilates with week after week, has been screaming YOLO from the reformer behind me for weeks now. Oddly, enough, this week, it took hold. I YOLO-ed my face off. Little did I know when Lululemon invited a group of bloggers, yogis and influencers (and some of my favorite people in Miami) to come together for a beautiful Saturday at The Standard Spa, that I would do things that surprised even me. What transpired was me stepping so far out of my comfort zone that I shocked even myself. Here’s what I’m talking about:

We kicked the day off with a yoga class taught by the amazing Sharon Aluma, one of my favorite yogi mentors. I needed the class badly, as I’d tried something new (to come on the blog soon) the day before and was absolutely positive my thighs were conspiring against me with each step I took. A good, hard stretch was just what I need to regain the ability to walk. {Photographed by Amy Dannheim.}

Getting down in downward dog with some of my favorite people.

{Photographed by Matt Roy.}

{Borrowed from Cristina Ramirez.}

Afterward, we took took our talents to the dock for lunch and Standard-style shenanigans.

{Photographed by}

At first, the idea of covering myself in mud and baking topless in the sun was a hell no. I don’t do topless. No no. Hell no no. But as the day progressed and more and more of the party started to throw caution to the wind, I decided what the hell and I joined in. Blame it on mob mentality, blame it on supermoon, blame it on too much wheatgrass. Whatever it was, I was in.

Turns out, yellow mud is super moisturizing, but then you have to un-cake yourself.

The fastest way possible? Jumping in the bay. Anyone who knows me knows I have a weird illogical fear of open water. (It’s the critters swimming in it that freak the bejesus out of me.) But today, I checked my fears along with my top and just went for it.

That’s me and my partner in crime Shayne Benowitz mudding up the bay. Here’s what I didn’t think about while I was yolo-ing my day away: I had to get up the slimy, baracle-covered ladder to get back on the dock, which meant touching sea-life. So I closed me eyes and just went for it, like sooooo many other things that day.

And then, I got back in the water. I know, right? Who am I? I’ve been dying to try paddle boarding for a while now. I heard it’s a great core workout and, basically, I’ll do anything to find my lower abs—except give up cheese. So off I went … on what turned out to be a Chicago-style windy day in Miami, with, might I add, more wave-making boats in the water than I’ve seen in a long time. Seriously, did everyone with a boat in Miami wait until I got on this thing to start tooling around the bay? Because that’s what it felt like. At one point, I was treading water in the same place for so long that I felt like a hamster in the wheel on the giant road to nowhere. I did’t fall off, but I did take a seat a few time. After going nowhere fast, Kelly Saks and I made the judgement call to put the wind at our backs and turn around. It was nonetheless, a serious workout. Will I do it again? Only if I check the weather first.

And there you have it. I yolo-ed myself to the point of exhaustion. I did things I would never do. I faced a ton of fears. I made new friends. I tasted a bit of life. And then I went home and crawled into bed and didn’t move for a solid three hours. Turns out the supermoon did open my heart, my mind and a little bit of my soul.

Thanks, Lululemon, for one hell of a Saturday. To see the rest of our adventure, go hashtag hopping at #sweatbeach.