#(i do admittedly love winter hiking to be so clear)

[essektheylyss]

Truly hellish and absurd that I am choosing to go exercise before dawn two days in a row on my long weekend. What the fuck is that about.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 2- Together We Stay

Bucky Barnes x (f)reader Series Rewrite (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS) 

Summary: After learning that you’re on a national watchlist from the exposure of Hydra, and seeking the only other person who’s lived a life like you have. Now you and Bucky adjust to being around one another in Romania.

Warning: big fluff, SMUT, more fluff i promised

Masterlist

5 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since you’ve been allowed to stay with Bucky in his little one bedroom apartment in Bucharest, Romania. Fortunately for you, he’s kind enough to let you take the shit excuse for a bed while he claims the hardwood floor on the opposite side of the room, just about every single night. That’s just how its been, through true at it is, either one of you could handle sleeping on stone, but this bed is admittedly nicer, and you’ve got someplace to stay for the time being.

And Bucky.

He’s a quiet type for sure, keeps to himself, only really speaks when spoken to or when asking if you want something from the marketplace. But you’ve begun to witness first hand how he’s kind, funny in his own right, and respectful of your space and body within the time that you’ve had the chance to really know him. Which is more then most could say while you’ve been on the run in the past, from authorities and the Winter Soldier alike. 

Most days the two of you wander the various streets of this large pleasant bustling city, watching for any signs of danger or an odd person out of place as you go about your day. Other times the two of you would go hiking to the outskirts of Bucharest where no one could be of a bother, there, the two of you would spar each other for hours. Gotta keep alert, he’d always say. 

When he did speak.

But the nights when the city was sleepy with brightly beaming stars blanketing overhead, now those became your absolute favorite. You and your new found companion would spend those hours playing cards against one another, lasting deep into the wee hours of the morning when the sun was just barely rising into the sky.

Although as of late, Bucky has begun to speak more and more to you, even just yesterday when you shit talked some cheap vendor who was being very persistent as he wanted you to buy his ugly scarves, Bucky cracked a smile. Maybe even stifled a laugh. If you weren’t so invested in messing with the annoying little man, you would have seen the way Bucky’s eyes trailed adoringly over your mischievous face.

Maybe you would have seen how the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as you flipped the guy off and practically swaggered away like the coolest person he’s ever met. Too bad you didn’t, but you would have loved to have seen it. Even for just a moment.

That’s what it’s been like recently between the two of you, small fleeting glances here and there, friendly nudges when you’re walking out in the park, and more time spent laying side by side with one another after an excessively intense workout session. Granted you’re sprawled out in the dirt and grass, sweaty and appearing like you just ran through a dust storm, but next to Bucky, things feel pleasantly different.

It’s strange, you can’t remember the last time you’ve actually felt comfortable around anyone since your mother, but that was a very long time ago. And she’s dead, and you’re not.

Unlocking the apartment door, you quickly turn the faded golden knob and walk into the dull sunlit room. The windows are covered in thin faded newspapers for the dying sunlight to struggle through, as this appears to be the only real source of efficient lightning since all lights are currently turned off. Though you can see well enough due to your body’s enhanced vision, small perks of the serums mutation that made you.

It’s almost 7pm on this cool breezy evening as you walk into Bucky’s apartment, shutting the door just as swiftly; letting your black cotton trench coat slip gracefully from off of your shoulders, you kick your boots off next before walking over to the kitchen and setting the coat on the back of the old wooden chair.

A tired sigh escapes from your parted lips as a sudden smirk begins to break out upon your sleepy face, “James.” You muse with a genuine smile as you turn to face your mattress for a bed, and the man sitting on it, “Nice to be greeted when I come back.”

He hands you an apologetic look before swiftly rising to his feet, “Just making sure you’re paying attention.” He quips with the flash of a grin, “You passed.”

“Alright smartass I brought you a sub from that little coffee place.” His cheeks dust pink as you hand him the sandwich from out of your bag, God he loves your accent, Bucky hands you a pursed lipped grin as you wink, “Just how you like it, old wet lettuce, a chunk of rat, and a moldy bun. Your favorite.”

He lets out a breathy snort as you practically swagger over to the fridge, opening it up to grab two beers before finding yourself a chair right across from him. “Here.” He quickly accepts your thoughtfully brewed offer of friendship, “Drink up Barnes it’s a new day tomorrow and we’re still kicking.”

He watches as you laugh before popping open the glass and taking a hearty chug, a small yet joyous grin pulling at the corner of your lips after you set it down again.

“To another day.” States Bucky before doing just the same.

Soon enough the two of you find yourselves seated comfortably on opposite sides of the old mattress with cards in each of your hands. A solid look of determination and fake suspicion on either of your faces as you stare each other down.

“Got any fives?” Asks Bucky with a raised brow as you simply roll your eyes, then biting your lip while you watch as he tucks a stray tuff of dark hair behind his ear.

“Fuck you.” Slips from your mouth as he bursts with the sweet sounds of laughter, his cards fall from his hands as you throw yours at his stupidly attractive yet winning face. Dammit you could have won.

“I can’t help that you’re a sore loser Y/N, I’m just that good.” Brags Bucky as you throw him a deadly glare.

“Whatever. It’s nearly 4am I’m off my game tonight.” You retort, shrugging as a yawn approaches right on cue.

Bucky glances at the wall clock before looking back at you, an tinge of disappointment lacing his soft voice, “Right. I’ll just head over to my spot then...”

Rolling your eyes yet again, you gently slap his folded thigh before he can attempt at leaving, “Awh come on Buck, you’re back has got to be shit by now. Let me sleep there tonight okay, it’s only fair.”

“Y/N I’m fine, seriously.” Admits Bucky kindly as he shows the flash of a smile, “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

Your teeth press firmly against your bottom lip as you think of how to thwart his stubborn mind, soon you look down to pick up some cards, “No, we gotta take turns. And don’t say “I’m good” because if you go over there I will have no choice but to fight you.” Words wrapped in sarcasm, you lay it on him, yet your face appears to flash with something different. 

“Fight me? You’d fight me for the shitty hard wooden floor?” Asks Bucky in bewilderment as you simply nod, agreeing to your last stated truth.

“See! You even admit it’s shitty.” You exclaim with a humored laugh while shaking the cards in his beautiful face. Y/N don’t you dare think about it, stop flirting idiot.

“Well...yeah.” Mutters Bucky as you both suddenly sit in an awkward silence, nothing heard except for the wind as it rattles against the old windowpane. You both are breathing a tad more heavily from the teasing argument a couple seconds ago, but now, some unseen yet intrusively felt emotion shifts the air. Is this what you think it is, or does your underlying feelings for him just like fucking with your better intuition.

Something is afoot, however your mind still doubts it. God he can be so hard to read sometimes.

Bucky’s blue irises flicker from you, to the floor-like-bed across the room and then back to you again, conflict clear in the way that his face shifts apprehensively, suddenly he moves to stand, “Wait.” You command with urgency, causing the man to stop dead in his tracks, curious eyes on you in a second.

Letting out a nervous breath, you decide to make sure he gets some proper rest for once, “Just sleep on the goddamn bed.” You deadpan as his face keeps unusually stoic, his body as still as a statue before without so much as a warning does he swiftly lean over and immediately crash his lips to yours.

Within seconds the cards are left for tomorrows cleanup as they flutter to the hard ground, completely forgotten as he presses a metal hand onto the bed for some stability while his lips move sweetly against your own, his flesh one positioned comfortably against your left jaw and partial cheek.

The shock you feel quickly gets shoved to the back of your mind as your hands immediately begin there exploration as they sift through his long dark hair. He tastes impeccably more delicious then you could have ever even imagined, not that you fantasized about tasting the Winter Soldier or anything, though maybe it popped into your mind as a harmless curiosity. Now however, you’re pleasantly satisfied to find out by the way his soft plush lips dance across your own; it’s enough to send your heart fluttering into a thousand excited butterflies, more like an avalanche for Bucky.

All too soon does be abruptly pull away to seat himself next to you while you begrudgingly retract your hands from exploring him further. His eyes quickly find the floor in embarrassment as you smile adoringly at him, “Sorry that was...”

“Fucking hot?” You muse as his flustered face immediately snaps over to yours, hope clear in his shimmering gaze and a tad bit of puzzlement. Guess he didn’t expect his little move of bravery to produce such an apparent positive reaction.

“Uh, well...that’s uh, good..” He mumbles while rubbing the back of his neck, eyeing shifting across the bare mattress before they slowly glance up to find yours once more. This time he hands you a shy nervous smile,”...can I kiss you again?” Wonders Bucky with the sweetest puppy dog eyes you have ever seen in your entire life.

Smirking mischievously, you gently caress the side of his cheek while he happily leans into it, “Bucky Barnes....you can do a lot more then just kiss me.” And with that said does your sweet man press his lips against yours, admittedly more hungry then the first.

He kisses you with such vigor and passion this time, becoming more bolder by the second as he gently tugs at the bottom of your shirt. Smiling against him, you quickly break from his charm to give him your approval, “Shirt comes off if yours does first.” You tease as he plants a chaste kiss to your cheek, then jaw.

Rolling his eyes while continuing to plant love marks around your neck, you take that as a positive sign to reach over and hastily remove his top, he then wastes no time in carefully slipping yours off as well, taking a second longer to unclasp your bra and fling it to the side. Problems for finding later. After the introductions are had, you both immediately take a long heavy moment to trail your eyes over every curve and blemish of each other’s body. You’ve never done this with him before, never even witnessed him without a shirt on, God is he ever more divine then you could have ever even imagined.

Trailing your eyes over ever muscle and crevice in the dull shadowed lighting of the room, your heart begins to sink with sadness and anger while you study the scarring on his left shoulder, the area between where metal meets flesh. Bucky watches as you frown before he takes your left hand in his, eyes softening while he holds it gently, “They hurt you like they hurt me.” He whispers.

Your eyes quickly flicker over to see his shadowed face, and the dark hair that frames it so perfectly, “They hurt everyone.” You whisper back as he brings your wrist up to his mouth, a second later be places the softest of kisses against your weathered skin, right where your tattoo is. The one you’ve had since you were eleven, the one Hydra gave you.

“Did they do this too?” He wonders, already knowing your answer as you slowly nod in silent reply; the black inked marking shows 00X13 as it sits horizontally against your wrist from where those bastards essentially branded you.

Frowning deeply at the black ink on your wrist, you take a slow breath as Bucky watches your every move, “I’ve tried to cut it off of me a couple times long ago.....but they did this to me before the second serum altered my body so that I could heal faster. I guess my body registers it as part of the skin now, but I’ve grown to live with it. It’s a reminder of my past and survival, I cannot stay angry with the dead forever.” You mutter thoughtfully, referencing to the former doctors and scientists who did this to you, understanding that those people are all dead now or incredibly old.

Bucky bows his head, dark hair tickling your hand and wrist as he holds it close to his stubbled face, brows furrowing you wonder what internal turmoil he may be processing, soon he rises his stormy ocean of blue to find your gaze, “I hate them. All of them.” He grumbles lowly, the icy dark storm clouding over in hidden rage that flashes within his eyes.

Not wanting to darken the blessed moment a second more, you push a piece of hair out of his eyes before placing a gentle kiss against his lips, pulling away he slightly follows, “It doesn’t matter now. We’re two lonely souls together in this fucked up world and I want you to make love to me.” A small grin replaces the once bitter frown as he leans in closer.

“Then I will.” Answers Bucky, his voice as soft and velvety as the most precious flowers, he soon moves forward to gently push you on to your back, stealing another kiss along the way while he hovers over your heated body.

His form is much broader then your own as he pins your vessel to the bed, hands drag lazily through his increasingly messy hair as you slowly part your legs for him to rest his clothed nether regions against your own equally as kept queen jewels. Now he lays flush against your clothed bodies, fitting perfectly like two golden pieces of a Kings prized puzzle.

The growing friction of his hardening member against your sensitive nerves is enough to make you growl in frustration from lack of satisfying contact. Tugging his head back from your lips, you smirk as he pouts, “I’m enjoying this Buck, I really am, but our pants gotta go.” He promptly breaks out into a knowing grin.

“I was thinking the exact same thing.” Muses Bucky in agreement as he leans back to give you some space for safely kicking off your pants and undies as he fumbles with his own from the spot next to your left. Naked and shining in all your magnificent glory, you watch in amusement as he struggles to shove down his jeans before a small giggle escapes your lips when he frustratingly throws them across the floor.

Knees guarding your hidden treasure below, you smirk while resting your arms against the bed, eyes flashing in entertained contentment as they glance up at him, “I’m not going anywhere, Buck.” You quip as he shakes his head in embarrassment.

“Yeah. Well...” He’s quickly interrupted as you pull him back down against your naked form, “oh, hi.” Whispers Bucky as his face keeps mere inches from your own, pieces of black hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Hi.” You mutter back with a shy smile before raising a brow and glancing downward for a brief moment, “Care to take those off?” You ask in referral to his underwear that’s still keeping it all in, his poor manhood that looks just about ready to rip through his boxers any second now.

Glancing down as well, he quickly smiles as a dust of pink coats his stubbled cheeks, “oh, right......just a moment.” His body leaves yours once again to kneel on the mattress as he almost trips out of them, you stare on in anticipated excitement as he swiftly pulls down his undies to reveal a very hard member indeed. He was packing this whole time!

Cheeks flushing pink once more, he gives you a shy nervous grin before placing his hands on either side of your closed legs. With pleading eyes of dashing cobalt, they flash a stormy sky of hunger and lust. Bucky draws his lips closer to your knee before suddenly placing a gentle kiss against your naked skin. “Is this okay?” He asks cautiously incase you might have changed your mind about everything, still completely uncertain if this is all some cruel dream and he’s about to wake up at any moment.

Parting your legs on your own accord, you smile fondly at him, “Of course. Now come here.” You beckon with a confident nod of your head, openly inviting him to join you now in the most intimate of ways.

Heeding to your pleasing command, the super soldier hovers over your naked body once again as you part your legs even wider for his wanting hardness that just barley brushes past your inner upper thigh, so close to your entrance. You could just about melt into a puddle of goo.

Your breaths are more heavy now as you both anticipate the sweet moment to come; both flesh and metal arm fall to either side of your face as his lips ghost over yours, breath hot against your smiling face, “I haven’t done this in awhile, I’ll admit. Sorry if I don’t do grea...”

Kissing him roughly, you shut him up real quick, “It’s fine. No judgment here, I promise.” You add honestly with another sweet kiss as you feel downward for his hardened cock, finding it rather quickly he hums in surprised delight as you grasp it before leading him to your slick entrance.

Once close enough to get there on his own will, do you smirk up at him with a face more valuable then all the diamonds in the whole entire world; your hands grasp either side of his biceps, as he studies your nodding face, “I’m ready.” And with that does his tip touch your fiery skin, slowly he pushes into you with a pleasurable groan escaping from his parted lips. 

Immediately do you gasp in surprise at his fullness graciously stretching your walls, “Did I hurt you?!” Worries your new lover as you wrap your legs around his hips before sending him a confident wink and a kiss for good measure.

“Nothing can hurt me.” You confirm with another heated kiss to his lips, soon you begin grinding into him the best you can manage as he starts moving pleasantly against your core. His strong hips pushing you back into the mattress in the absolutely best way possible.

Bucky soon finds an effective pace and with that begins thrusting into you harder now as he gains more and more confidence with your wanting body of pure flame and desire; only the delicious sounds of skin on skin contact making itself present in the tiny apartment, besides your labored breaths of intense love making.

Your mind is nothing but foggy mush as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into your slick entrance with each beautifully graceful stroke of his godlike hips. Soft moans and muffled grunts continue to leave his throat as he pumps in and out of you over and over again. Ugh, you could just about die happy.

Causing you to whimper in pleasure as the tiny growing coil inside you gets tighter and tighter with every new thrust to your center walls. His hard cock twitches against your sensitive nerves as his own orgasm begins reaching its inevitable climax, he’s so fucking close.

With a couple more powerful thrusts does he finally succumb to your glorious body and cum hard inside you, his voice gravely and deeply enthralling as he moans in pleasure of the golden release. Feeling his member twitch angrily from within is enough to send you over the edge with ecstasy, causing your walls to clench instinctively against his dexterously slick cock. Fuck he feels good.

More whimpers and moans fall helplessly off of your tongue as your fingers trail pink fiery lines across his glowing skin, he’s without a doubt just as sweaty as you are by this point, and all the more beautiful.

Kissing your lips hungrily, Bucky pounds relentlessly harder into you now as the two of you silently decide to continue on for a swiftly approaching round two. In no time he has the both of you cumming even harder and messier then the first, with moans and groans of plenty reverberating off the aged old walls of his tiny apartment.

Leaving your body a shaking and sweaty mess as he thrusts a couple last pumps into you for good measure, pink swollen lips not once leaving yours until at long last does he gently pull out for the first time in what seems like hours. Though you definitely weren’t complaining, both of you have a plethora of stamina to spare, though you did wear him out.

Falling into an exhausted heap of Bucky next to you on the messy bed, his chest quickly rises and falls with heavy breaths as your does the same. For a few long moments do the two of you keep silent, just the sounds of your heavy breathing the only thing of any significance in the darkly room lit room.

After giving yourself a couple minutes to cool down, Bucky blissfully chuckles, causing you to turn your head towards his beaming face as he stares up at the ceiling, “Something funny Barnes?” You muse in that gloriously prominent accent of yours that drives him wild. He turns his sweat covered head over to you, pieces of long hair sticking to the sides of his handsomely beaming face.

“Are we dead? This feels like a dream and I’m going to wake up alone any second now.” Mutters Bucky, eyes blinking in hopes this is real and true as life itself.

Laughing, you move from your back to lay flush against his left side while watching your every move, kissing his chest you hum, “Well, you’d have a real mess in the morning.”

Bucky immediately scrunches his nose up in slight disgust as you sling an arm over his bare chest, “Thank you for that image Y/N.” He retorts with a short burst of air leaving from his nostrils, indicating he did indeed find it rather amusing.

Kissing his cheek you shrug, “It’s not like your load isn’t still....in places, it’s sex Buck. It’s messy and beautiful and I’m glad I could do this with you. Seriously, I thought we’d never get here.”

Bucky’s face appears rather thoughtful for a long moment before he finally speaks, “I didn’t think you liked me like that.”

“What!?” You exclaim in bewilderment, causing him to snicker as you continue with your explanation, “Was I not obvious enough with the stolen glances and whatever else I could get away with? I was trying actually if you wanted to know....in my own way, but still.”

“I did try to kill you once.” Confirms Bucky as you lay comfortably against his metal arm, head resting on his upper chest while his eyes flicker back up to the ceiling.

Scoffing, you flick a piece of his hair, “I didn’t take it personally.”

Thinking for a moment, he finally looks down at you, “I’m glad you didn’t. And I’m glad that you found me.” Whispers your lover as he reveals the most dashing smile you’ve ever seen, while his flesh arm gently caresses down your shoulder in a blissfully comforting manner.

“Me too.” You add, pressing another soft kiss to his lips as you trail a finger down his side, “Now let’s take a shower......and probably change the sheets.”

“We don’t have sheets.”

——

An annoying ray of golden sunlight shines brightly in your closed eyelids from a small tear in the middle of the window newspaper, as your senses slowly come back to the world. You squint before taking a deep breath and shifting your gaze to make a full circle of the room, since you do happen to be facing away from the wall.

Your eyes trail over to Bucky’s usual spot only to reveal absolutely nothing, your heart suddenly jumps in your chest as the pleasurable memories of last night come flooding into your head once again, and some of the leftover smells, you can thank those fucking scientist for that. 

That’s right, you think, you slept with Bucky, and he’s literally snoozing away right behind you.

Smiling into the morning sun, you quietly sit up before turning your head to look down at Bucky, his hair is an absolute adorable mess as it lays across his face in various dark strands. He’s currently shirtless with the exception of some sweatpants and the thin blanket he owns that’s positioned across his torso.

You’re clothed as well, deciding it best to be dressed and comfy after the heated shower session you two shared; oh to be back in that moment for another minute longer, how nice that would be.

Slipping away from your daydreaming of Bucky, your heart skips a beat as he stirs, soon enough does his beautiful blues open up to the world. Finding your adoring gaze, he rests a hand on your folded leg, “Mornin’ Y/N.” Mutters Bucky in that raspy early morning voice of his, the actual greeting sounding more like a toddler learning to speak for the fist time then anything truly coherent. Or like a drunken man.

Rubbing a hand through his dark locks, you smile lovingly down at his stubbly morning face as he closes his eyes yet again, showing pure bliss while your fingers run through his scalp. “Touch starved much?” You quip as he opens his eyes and yawns like that of a sleepy old bear, metal arm flashing a quick stray beam of light when he shifts.

“Maybe.” Teases Bucky as he silently beckons for you to lay down with him, heeding to this hopeful inquisition, you scoot yourself onto your side and graciously welcome as his flesh arm reaches over your torso to pull you in closer.

Noses mere inches from one another, you raise a brow as he stares lovingly into your eyes, “Cozy?”

Gently kissing your lips in reply, he pulls back to reveal a positive lazy grin, “I think so.” Jests Bucky as he pushes you onto your back so that he can sling an arm over your rib cage, essentially pinning you to the bed with no real intention of letting you go any time soon.

The both of you stay like that for a good couple of minutes, just enjoying each other’s company in the late morning sun before he finally decides to speak, “Was last night....uh, good?” Wonders Bucky in nervous apprehension as his head rests comfortably against yours.

Giving him a light peck, you grin, “The best I’ve ever had.” And you mean every single word.

He gently squeezes your side in reply before muttering, “You were great too.”

Lightly chuckling, your eyes squint as you smile brightly at him, “Well that’s good to know. Glad I hadn’t lost my incredible seduction skills.”

“Yeah, I was thoroughly seduced.” Quips Bucky as you snicker.

-

Tagged: @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @diegos-butt​

[master-sass-blast]

Hi! Me again. Soo… How would Piotr and the avengers would be if the reader is a sibling/child/relative of one of them, also please take you time to do so. Cya and thanks ~M

Hello, Nonny M! Good to see you in my inbox once more!

Admittedly, I'm gonna bounce the child idea, just because I'm p sure regardless of how I do the math, any child of the Avengers is going to be too young for Piotr (at least, in terms of where I usually put his age at in my head). But, without further ado, my thoughts on Piotr with a Reader!S/O who is related to the Avengers in some manner:

-I... honestly don't think Piotr cares all that much? Like --insomuch that what he finds important about you is the fact that you're you. Who you're related to is pretty much a non-issue for him.

-One upside: you understand how busy the life of a superhero can be. Makes scheduling conflicts due to megalomaniac super villains trying to raze New York City to the much easier to navigate.

-Okay, this is just me, but I think it'd be hilarious if Piotr and Natasha Romanoff became instant buds (assuming here that the Reader isn't related to Natasha, because if she was, I think Natasha would be more standoffish on account of being protective over her family). Like, they're both Russians, they both have strong opinions on what qualifies as proper vodka and what real home cooking should be like, and New York winters barely count as cold to them. (I love the mental image of them in a fight where the Avengers and the X-Men are working together, just gossiping together in Russian while Natasha uses Piotr as a shield while bullets bounce off his armor.)

-Also on the note of Avenger-X-Men relations: if more cooperation comes of him dating/being with you, fine. If not, no big deal. He's not interested in you just for your last name/genetics and the networking that could arise from that.

-I also see Piotr being very protective of you. Being related to an Avenger's already going to come with a lot of attention and acclaim. Dating a prominent, easily recognizable X-Man on top of it? That's bound to garner a lot of interest, both from the Internet and bad guys alike. Piotr's already the type to walk you to the door, but I could see him checking your place to make sure it's clear (only with your express consent/invitation, though), upgrading your locks, etc.

-On that note, he's also absolutely the type to keep your dates private. Meals at smaller restaurants, movie nights at home, picnics at lesser known (but still nice) parks, hiking, that kind of thing. He doesn't document any of them on social media, either -though he will take pictures of the two of you for his own enjoyment. He's very focused on making sure people can't use him to follow you --or vice versa--and that you still get to have as much privacy as you can.

[palehorseriding]

Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary: All Work And No Play Makes Jack A Dull Boy (1)

Harper Hemakeavric is just perfect, thanks for asking. Never mind the fact that she had to leave her old team...or ended up on a government watch list...suddenly found herself thrust under the supervision of SHEILD who thought for some reason it'd be a good idea to make her a freaking AVENGER, but hey, they must have had a good reason, right? So, it's fine. She's fine. Everything's fine. She's an assassin. A normal assassin. But what happens when she's finally cleared for field duty? How will her team react when all she truly is comes to light? If they accepted the (admittedly very cute) Winter Soldier and all the blood on his hands, this should be a walk in the park...right?

x posted on AO3

_____________________________________________________________________

Sometimes, just when you think life isn’t going your way after all the doors and windows have been welded shut, a trap door appears, and you know everything is going to be okay. Wait. No...nevermind. Backing up. Sometimes you have to leave your old team, and the government sends you to another one because you’re on a watch list and they “don’t want to lose tabs on you”. It’s not as bad as it sounds.

This is the mantra that’s been circling the mind of one Harper Hemakeavric’s brain while she gets ready for work. At least, it has been since she got “reassigned” to the lab in the Avenger’s tower. How it’s possible for a person to get reassigned to an entirely different organization is still beyond her, but a certain former supervisor came to her mind. The memory of her old team lead hit her like a sack of bricks; entirely too hard for this early in the morning. It almost sending her toppling to the floor as she not-so-gracefully tried to fight her tights. Wherever that dickwad was, she thought, she hoped he was suffering. A disgruntled meow pulled her out of her thoughts as a hulking grey cat jumped onto the bathroom counter.

“Sorry, Bubs, just a little self-conscious, ya know? Big day and all.” Harper rubbed the back of her neck, well aware that she’d resorted to talking aloud to her cat. She poured a large bowl of cat food and set it on the counter beside her, “I know I shouldn’t be nervous. I’ve done field work before. Hell, I’ve done fieldwork more than lab shit, but not with them. And I’ve been stuck in that lab for so long, what if I’ve lost my touch?” She gripped the edge of the sink, staring herself down in the mirror, “No, no Harper. That’s not how we talk about ourselves in this house.” With a roll of her neck, and a chirp of solidarity from Bubs, Harper was out the door and ready for her last day confined to the lab. Today was the day she’d finally be cleared for field work. Today’s the day she has a lot of explaining to do. Well, maybe that can wait until later.

The lab was her happy place. Well, technically, a tiny café in Astoria was her happy place, but this was a close second. The lab almost always had Bruce, the ray of nervous sunshine she’d come to know and love. It also had Tony, who, to be honest, scared the ever-loving shit out of her sometimes, but seemed to take on the role of mentor-borderline-dad pretty quickly. When he greeted her with a cup of her favourite coffee, she made a mental note to ask Peter how long it took Tony to start “dad-ing” him.

“In honor of your last day shackled to this lab, Kona coffee with honey,” Tony smiled as he thrust the cup into Harper’s hands. He was quick to note the millisecond of apprehension in her returned smile. “Come on, kid, you’re going to be fine. We already like you, and that’s half the battle.” Bruce looked up from what looked like a pile of lime jello,

“Arguably that’s more than half the battle, Tony.” Harper smiled as she sipped the coffee.

The rest of the morning passed without any major incidents. Bruce shocked himself while trying to break down the Not Jello, as Tony had dubbed it, Tony fine-tuned some upgrades for Peter, while Harper got busy fixing a broken datapad. Time seemed to tick by Harper agonizingly slowly; her field-work clearance should be in by end of the workday. It was currently four in the afternoon, an hour before they usually set up shop, and there was still no word on Fury’s final verdict. Maybe they changed their minds. It would make sense after all. Things had been going well, too well for her comfort. She made a mental note of where she had stowed her suitcases - just in case. If all else fails, she could always teach, right?

“Harper, I’ve been calling your name for the last ten minutes, can you please hand me the electrodes?” Harper was startled back into reality by Banner’s request and quickly tossed the electrodes across the room.

“I don’t know what we’re trying to get out of this, Brucie” She could hear the sound of his eyes rolling from ten feet away, “we’ve been looking at this excretion...Not...Jello forever and we have nothing to show for it!”

Bruce muttered something about Tony and deadlines and returned back to trying to shock the substance into sharing its deep dark secrets. Just as Harper resigned herself to her inevitable exit, Steve appeared in the doorway brandishing a manilla folder and an unreadable expression. Her clearance paperwork had come in.

Turns out, the upside to working for a global (interstellar?) espionage organization was that they already know everything there is to know about everyone, at any given time. Honestly, Harper thought, if it wasn’t working to her advantage, she’d find it a terrifying invasion of privacy. All of the secrets she had been so worried about coming to light had already been revealed a long time ago, Steve assured with a soft smile. This should have been able to soothe her leg-bouncing anxiety, but alas, here she sat in a conference room, her entire life spread out on the table before her, with the incessant squeaking of the bouncing office chair providing the perfect background to her anxiety. After she found herself able to tear herself away from the papers, Harper found the will to speak, though softly.

“D-do you have any questions, comments, or concerns?” She poses her standard lab-tech briefing questions with a watery smile. Steve smiles at her usage of the familiar phrase, one that always followed the team being gifted a new piece of tech.

“Were you going to tell us, or was your plan just to let us find out on our own,” he asks as he moves a paper toward her. She swears she can see a mixture of concern and another emotion taint his smile...was that anger? She doesn’t have to look down to see what it is; she knows it’s her record.

“About what? The criminal record, kidnapping, or shitty gene mutation?” Harper was desperate to lighten the suffocating air that had come over the conference room. The Captain responds with a glare that could make Thor feel chastised,

“Kid, I’m serious.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” she runs a shaky hand through her hair, “I knew it would all come up eventually, and I didn’t want to walk into this looking like I wanted sympathy or special treatment. My record is sealed to the public, and besides the murder was justified...see: kidnapping. And the powers…” she visibly winces as years of torment at the hands of her peers suddenly comes to the surface of her memory, “it’s not the best thing to mention in conversation. It’s not like I use them outside of extreme emergencies, anyway.” Steve quirks a brow,

“So what do you prefer to use in the field, then?” Harper smiles and rises out of her chair. While looking the Captain dead in the eye, she hikes her skirt up just past her mid-thigh to reveal two kunai safely holstered to her upper thigh. She cackled as the tips of Steve’s ears turned a bashful pink and he hastily averted his eyes.

“Relax, Steven, I’m not flashing you.” He slowly returns his gaze to the knives, “I just like to be prepared, and my gun looks funny under a skirt.”

“You do know you’re supposed to disclose personal concealed weapons, right?” Steve’s eyes are fixed to a very interesting spot on the ceiling. Harper laughed again,

“Well, yeah, but where’s the fun in that?”

[l0nely-edgel0rd-g0d]

A WEEK OF RAGE

Monday;

I go to my auto mechanic to pick up my British racing green Mercedes Benz E55, I’m having the sound system upgraded. It’s been in for four days, which is two too many in my opinion. When I arrive the first thing I do is confront the employees, but they either pretend to not speak English, or refer me to the owner who isn’t present. I opt to wait for him in the lobby.

It’s 152 minutes later when he arrives in an admittedly nice cream colored Audi TT. He’s Bahraini and dressed like a Miami Vice villain and reeks of One Million by Paco Rabanne. When I confront him he assures me he’ll light a fire under his guy's asses; but for an extra 30 dollars my car would be moved to the top of the list. He says it grinning, like only an idiot wouldn’t take this “fantastic” deal. I don’t know if it’s his odor, the wait or the effrontery of his offer but I succumb to rage. No hesitation or warning, just a quick palm strike to his nose. It’s not hard enough to break it but the left uppercut to his body that follows has no such restraint. As he topples towards me, I clinch with him and knee him right on his heart. Based on the sound he made, I believe I broke his sternum. I deliver an elbow strike to his fifth vertebrae before I let him fall into a sobbing, whimpering, writhing mess on the floor.

Then I remember that it’s the middle of a work day. Six employees and two other customers witnessed the whole event. No one lifted a finger to aid him, they didn’t even call the police. In fact the two customers applauded. One of the employees who pretended not to speak English tells me in perfect English my car will be ready in half an hour. Two other employees carry their employer into his office. As I sit down to wait, one of the two customers, mid 50’s with a full head of white hair, asks that employee, who we all now know speaks English, about his car.

Tuesday;

There are few fast food restaurants near my job, so I tend to frequently visit the same Jack In The Box on work days despite the nigh contemptible service. Whenever I go I always the same thing, Ultimate cheeseburger, no ketchup or mayo and a raspberry ice tea with no ice. There were three people ahead of me but the wait was minimal I order, pay and wait. Thank Hecate for smart phones, otherwise I’d either have to watch them make the food, watch the patrons and learn why every proceeding generation said they weep for the generation that followed or enter a near comatose state.

My order number is called and I grab the cup and bag and try to hurry away but bump into the guy who ordered ahead of me. He’s six feet four inches tall, muscular, in his late 40’s, dressed in red and blue Fubu, with a haircut and mustache that implies military. He returns to the counter and says, “Hey dicklips you fucked up my order.” This prompts me to check my order and sure enough, there’s a Jumbo Jack in the wrapper. The employee, about 22 years old, lanky; with hair, makeup, tattoos and piercings suggest he’s an emo college dropout who only got this job so his suburban sycophant parents didn’t kick him out of a house they’d never own because of predatory lending practices. I calmly walk up to the counter as he tells the complaining customer, “Better luck next time.” Before the customer can say another word say, “Excuse me, but you seemed to have made a mistake with my order as well.” To which he responds by throwing his hands up and loudly proclaiming, “I am so triggered right now!” and walks away. The other cashier, a hispanic woman in her early 20’s with a muffin top, looks at me and the other complaining customer, rolls her eyes and waves up the next customer just so she doesn’t have to deal with us.

“Can you believe this shit?” He asks me. To which I whisper, “No, I can’t” I’m staring at emo boy in the back talking to one of the food preparers. He’s just as young, emo, tattooed and pierced as the male cashier, but shorter and heavier. He looks like he plays drums in emo boy’s garageband that’s never had a paying gig, but they swear is gonna be big one of these days. I can tell by their gesticulations and body language that they’re not debating who fucked up our orders. When drummer boy gives us the two finger salute I snapped just like I did at the car mechanics.

I’m over the counter and advancing upon the two with hostile intent. The two just stare at me as if the law or the gods are going to stop me. Emo boy takes a palm strike to the nose that overtly breaks it. His drummer takes a kick to the crotch that, based on his reaction, hit some sort of genital piercing that maims his penis. He drops instantly, screaming, writhing and clutching his crotch. Emo boy is looking at the blood on his hands and proclaiming, “You can’t just do that man! I’m gonna sue your ass off! You’re gonna go to jail!” An uppercut to his diaphragm prevents him from saying anything else. I then try to shove his head into one of the deep fryers. He stops himself with his hands, but they’re slick with his blood and falls to his elbows. The blood and tears dripping from his face cause the grease to pop. He starts rapidly apologizing, telling me he’ll do anything if I don’t hurt him anymore. He seemed sincere. I knee him on his kidney and let him fall to a clearly dirty floor.

Muffin top has the building’s phone in hand, undoubtedly calling the police. I unfold my pocket knife and throw it at her. It hits her in a manner that damn near severs her thumb, causing her to drop the phone and yelp. The flying kick that followed hits her just below the collarbones slamming her into the wall. Her head bounced off the wall in a manner sure to result in a concussion. She falls to the dirty floor in a manner sure to result in a concussion. I hang up the phone and notice accosting the young lady seemed to earn me the crowd's ire. Though they’re hesitant to do more than whisper their disapproval and covertly call the cops. Still, I take the time to make a ultimate cheeseburger, no ketchup or mayo, and take a third pound of curly fries on my way out.

Wednesday;

After work, near my British racing green E55, I'm confronted by a man I've never met prior. Short and athletically built wearing sky blue shorts and shorts, no socks. Boxer shorts were dark blue with red pinstripes, white tank top a size too small. He also wore a white do rag and a faux silver chain. He claims I was disrespecting his girl. His manner and dress rule out law enforcement and organized crime. I plead ignorance, he tells me not to play games. I inquire to who his girl is, he insists I know who she is. I recommend we talk this out like adults, he asks if I don’t think he’s a man.

Now I have no clue what this is about; the one thing that’s clear to me is he’s looking for violence. Given the week I’ve had and the lack of security in the parking lot I was tempted to break every bone in his face. Still I thought diplomacy best. I offered an empty apology and promised to never do it again. This seemed to enhance his malevolence. He hikes up his shorts and proclaims he aint no bitch.

“Eviscerate him! For he is wicked! By wicked my mean contrary to your will!” screams the homicidal beast that dwells in the hearts and minds of only the most disturbed individuals. “Unveil his skeleton so he’ll be truly naked before your perfection! They say a sound like wailing winter winds can be heard if…”

I shake the voice out of my head; feeling this has gone too far I try to leave but a loud voice distracts me. “Kick his ass Dreshawn!” It belong to my coworker Maybelle, skinny, great ass, bad hair weave and six years younger than I am. I’d once told, Taj Pierce I bet Maybelle goes ass to mouth. I guess it got back to her.

It’s like when a parent says, “I just looked away for a second.” because the next thing I know I’m exclaiming, “That’s what this is about? Better run home to mama while you can Gay-shawn.” with far more spittle than needed.

“Wha’cha say bitch ass n-...” The sentence was supposed to end with a right hook to my jaw, but instead was easily countered with the most basic of aikido shoulder throws. Unfortunately he hit my British racing green E 55 breaking the driver side mirror. I just got it out of the shop, and have to find a new mechanic; these two facts send me into a rage (despite it being my fault). Dreshawn is on his feet, clearly in pain, clearly embarrassed. He throws two left jabs I’m out of range for followed by an overhand right so telegraphed I intercept it with a palm strike. I hear it fracture his wrist, but don’t give him time to acknowledge the injury. I follow the palm strike with a right hook that lands on his left eye, a left hook to his side, a right kick to his left knee that buckles on impact and a left Hisoka style uppercut to his jaw.

Maybelle exclaims, “OMG!” and tries to rush to his side, but I freeze her in place with the right look. She looks around and cries for help, knowing none will come. Dreshawn picked his moment too well. He’s failing to scuttle away from me mumbling, “Look man I didn’t want any trouble.” Through a dislocated jaw.

“What?” I exclaim while producing my brand new, never tasted flesh before pocket knife. “Clearly you were looking for trouble you pencil dicked cunt!” I’m frothing at the mouth and advancing upon him, “I gave you every chance to walk! And did you? Did you!?” I’m in striking range now, twirling the knife between my finger. “If you don’t answer, I’m going to cut your eyeballs in half. Now did you walk away?”

“NO!” he cries unable to hold back the tears. “Why?” I ask menacingly. When he responds with, “What?” I kick him on the appendix, raise the knife and scream, “Why didn’t you walk away!?”

“I don’t know!” He cries, “Because I love her, and I want to protect her. She means the world to me and…” I step on his throat to silence him. “Wrong,” I hiss, “You did it because you thought I was an easy target. If I six foot five, 250 lbs of alpha male you would’ve thought better of it. You’re the type of shit that runs from the strong and preys upon the weak; like a pedophile.”

This reignite his desire to fight, so I let him up. He stands on shaking legs and puts his dukes up. His jaw isn’t dislocated, a severe hematoma was growing on his chin. He clearly said, “I don’t need no chicken shit knife.” I close the knife and toss it to him so he can easily catch it. “The difference between me and you is you think you’re strong whereas I know.” I snicker.

He throws the knife at my face saying, “Muthafucka I said I don’t need no chickenshi…” The spin I use to dodge the knife ends in a roundhouse kick I plant on his right hip. He drops and screams like it’s broken. I kick him 20 times, most landing on his arms and legs. Needless to say, he has no fight left in him.

Maybelle has fallen to hysterics, “Oh, my god! Why did you do that? You didn’t have to do that! Why? He wasn’t gonna do nothing. Why you do that? Oh my god! You didn’t have to do all that!”

This simultaneously disgusts and enrages me. I dash to her and throttle her shouting, “Of course I didn’t have to do that! I gave him every chance to walk away and he didn’t! Because of you whore! If it wasn’t for bitches like you half the inmates in Attica would be free! But no, you wanted to see me put in my proper place. Well congratulations shit-louse! Here it is, a the muthafuking top of the food chain!”

“Let her go or so help me…” Dreshawn croaks. The sadistic grin I shoot him reveals the depth of his mistake. I puch Maybelle four times in the stomach, like I’m trying to abort a pregnancy. I let her fall to the ground in a whimpering heap. Dreshawn stands, roars, charges at me for three strides before falling disgracefully. He crawls to me and when in range, I drop an axe kick that dislocates his left shoulder. Then I make sure he has a good view as I fondle Maybelle’s tits, cunt and ass; over then under her clothes. I wipe the shit her asshole left on my fingers on Dreshawns face. He’s cursing me and making promises and threats that convince me I’m better off just killing him then and there. So I retrieve my knife just as a security guard arrives. I just say, “I don’t know what happened. Someone seems to have hit my car.” and quickly drive home despite his insistence.

Thursday;

With my car being repaired again, I had to take the bus to work and I was go out of the way to not lose my temper. On that very bus, I saw a attractive rubenesque girl. She looked young, but with a body like hers few would mind. I give her a lascivious look, take my seat and check instagram. The woman sitting behind her exclaims, “You stay away from her you pedophile! You got reason to be after girls like that! You should be ashamed of yourself! Have you no self control? You’re just like those Hollywood elitist. Wanna be Harvey Weinstein. The next Anthony Weiner everyone! I should call the police on your child molesting ass!”

Like everyone else on the bus, I do my best to ignore the woman; despite the fact that this diatribe continues for the entire 17.5 minute bus ride. When I get off the bus I thought I was rid of her. Oh how I was mistaken. It seems her tirade was directed at me. She declares she shall follow me everywhere I go and let them know what kind of person I really am. She looks like a 58 year old Anita Sarkeesian, except she African American, dressed in a black and gold outfit one only sees at red carpet events in New York circa 1973.

It’s a two kilometer walk from the bus stop to my job with nowhere to stop along the way. I assumed she’d give it up after half a click. Again I was mistaken. She had the resolve and stamina to make the walk and continue to verbally berate me  the entire time.

After approximately one kilometer I’d finally had enough and snarled at her, “Look bitch you’re free to tell my bosses whatever you want, but I don’t have to take this verbal abuse from the likes of you.”

“Bitch!?” she exclaims. “Who you callin’ a bitch? I got your bitch right here! I’ll show you a bitch!” and she swings her rather large purse at me. I dodge the purse twice but then a left cross comes at me. The punched is dodged but then I run into a fire hydrant. Thinking she has me cornered she swings the purse again. I use aikido number seven to evade and shove her into the street. The driver of the 18 wheeler slams on the brakes but still hits her, only hard enough bruise though. She looks at me and screams, “Muthafucker! You did that on purpose!” to which I scream, “You goddamn fucking right I did!” brandishing my knife and foaming at the mouth. “You better thank your god that loves little boys asses I don’t come over there and finish what I started!”

She’s aghast. She looks at the driver of the truck and shouts, “Did you hear what this muthafucker said to me?” The driver calmly replied, “Ma’am, do you need me to call an ambulance? If not, would you mind getting out of the street? You’re holding up traffic.”

I hurry to work beginning to suspect something might be seriously wrong with me.

Friday;

I picked up my British racing green Mercedes Benz E55 from the shop after my shift. To celebrate getting through the day without accosting or maiming anyone I stop in a drug store to buy beer. On my way in I coldly ignore a man asking for change. I purchase a tall can of Sapporo and a six pack of Hangar 24 orange wheat. On my way out that same guy is by the exit and asks loudly and clearly for spare change. I say, “Sorry.” without breaking stride or even looking at him; but he follows me saying, “Oh c’mon man, I saw that big fancy car you drive. I just need some change to get some food. i got kids to feed. Where’s your empathy brother? If we all just helped each other out this world would be a better place. C’mon man what would Jesus do?”

It was like a switch was flipped. Despite the fact I’m at my car and I’ve already unlocked the door. I could easily just get in and drive away and be done with it. But I’m just so overcome with pure rage. I drop the bag I had to pay for, whirl around and grab him by the front of his shirt and scream, “How ‘bout I dish it out in increments of five!” and punch him in the face while counting by five. At 25 he falls and I go with him so as to keep punching him in the face. At 100 I notice he isn’t moving anymore. Several people are filming with the cell phones by now. Undoubtedly some have called the police. I take the back streets to my house and park in the garage. I get drunk and fall asleep with my hand on ice.

Saturday;

I contemplated taking the day off to lay low and my hand still hurt. But, I can’t afford that. The work shift passes without incident and I elect to stop in a diner for a fried chicken dinner. It was crowded, but that was to be expected given the time, day and location. I’m sitting at a table making an appointment to see Dr. Ayane Tsunemori my psychologist as my food arrives. I take a sip of my raspberry iced tea with no ice only to discover it is a mr. pibb with no ice. I start for the registar when a commotion in the dining room distracts me. A college age blonde girl has fallen after going into convulsions. Her family is shouting for help, as pink foam begins to gurgle out of her mouth. The father (has anyone ever told him he looks like actor Dominic Keating?) is on the phone in tears coordinating with employees. I rush over and grab the hysterical mother and ask what her daughter ordered. After a violent shake she says, Fried chicken dinner and a mr. pibb with no ice.” She broke down into tears at the end, it’d be the last meal her daughter ever ordered.

Knowing she’s been poisoned, I look around. Assassins have to confirm the kill first hand. I see him two meters out the door. Blue jeans, Dark off greyish pseudo black t shirt. Walking nonchalantly to nowhere. A guy making sure not to get noticed or call attention to himself. He’s not even on his phone. I give chase. He’d only gone one building over and stopped in an alley lit with orange streetlights. Despite the horrible lighting I recognized this man.

“Old Painless? Of the 36 Wu-Dang Killers?” I ask as a show of respect.

“Bingo!” He smirks, “And you are Demon Lord of The Syndicate.”

“It seems our reputations precede us. ”I say while cautiously closing the distance between us.

“Hence the poison.” He shrugs, “Shame they mixed up the drinks. Now I have to dispatch you the old fashioned way.”

“I thought through...various yakuza and triad alliances and such that we were allies. At least not enemies?”

“Cheng Ling-Li says otherwise.”

I pull my pocket knife, I need no more words. He laughs, “I need no weapon to kill a man such as you!”

I attack, at first my blows are easily parried before a quick counter attack disarms me before I hit the concrete, spring back up and attack. He evades two punches, a spining backfist and an inside crescent kick before counterattacking with a quick yet stunning jab to my nose, spins behind me and hits me with a double fist attack. I get up and come at him with a telegraphed flying axe kick that’s a feint to get him into punching range. He dodges the right backfist and catches my straight left I didn’t think he saw coming and hurls me to the concrete. He strokes his beard and laughs at me.

I slowly get up. I’m literally and figuratively seeing red. I felt the rage erupting like a volcano. I wanted nothing more than to rip him apart and eat him myself! That’s when it occurred to me; there are no coincidences. Everything that happened this week, all the incidents; they had been his doing. A well planned and orchestrated maneuver to cloud my mind and judgement, thus negating my most potent weapon.

I yell, “I’m gonna rip off your head and shit down your neck!” and come at him with wild, looping hooks he easily dodges. I goes for the easy body shot I left open for him and to his surprise, I block and counter with a quick jab to his nose followed by a sloppy shoulder throw. Old Painless is up and no longer in the mood to play. But words and memory fail to accurately describe the intricate manner of our battle. I, having switched from Systema to Daitō-ryū Aiki-jūjutsu, him a master of Xin Yi Liu He Quan. You’ll have to fill in the blanks yourself. I can say had the event been recorded it’d easily be the highest viewed video ever.

Just as signs of injury and frustration began to show in Old Painless, a spotlight illuminated us indicating someone had called the police. We were detained The found no contraband on either of us and neither of us had active warrants. Neither of us wished to press charges nor did either of us require medical attention eventually we were released without charges, though separately.

Sunday;

I woke up bruised and sore but still kept my appointment with Dr. Tsunemori. I tell her of the weeks events, omitting everything that incriminates myself. She suggests I take a mini vacation. Go see a movie, try out a new restaurant, go golfing; something like that. And since that new Honduran bistro Kristoff Select told me about is closed today, I elect to see the latest Star Wars film. I had planned on taking a date to see it with me but c’est la vie…

After trailers for the new Vin Diesel movie and something that looked much worse starring Kellan Lutz and Geena Davis, I go to the toilet so I don’t have to go during the film. In the restroom are three Hispanic men, writing on the walls with black permanent markers. The first was a dead ringer for actor Robert LaSardo in Tiger Land, save he was almost four foot ten inches tall with his shabby brown boots on. He wore a wife beater and sagging jean shorts that exposed boxer shorts that were once white, but now a lighter shade of pink.

The second was just as tall as I, though at least 30 kilos heavier. He wore an Ezekiel Elliott jersey and blue jeans that sagged despite his girth. He’s in his mid 20s and has a jail grade buzzcut. The last was a lad of no older than 17. He was short, like the first guy and of average build. He wore a white Kobe Bryant jersey, matching shorts and a black hat with the word ’OBEY’ in white stitching. He has maybe a dozen hairs growing from his upper lip.

I glance at the vandalism, wonder where were these guys three days ago and move on to a urinal. They have a hushed but audible conversation about what to do now and The oldest of the three convinces the youngest this is his chance to earn a rep. I finish and move to the sink to wash my hands while the oldest gives me a ‘You think you hard?’ stare forged in US prisons.

I’m drying my hands the youngest one tries to sucker punch me. I simply side step and let him punch the paper towel dispenser. I then shove him into the largest of the three, who advanced in anticipation of the sucker punch landing. He says something like,

“What? You’re gonna disrespect the hood?” and comes at me  with his fists up, leaning back. It’s an outside leg kick to his right knee followed by an inside leg kick to the same knee and he buckles. I finish him with an uppercut and pose stylishly afterwards to intimidate the other two. It doesn’t work. The teen comes at me with three sloopy crosses that I easily avoid and lead him to the electric hand dryer and aide him in hitting face first twice.

The third guy, the one that remained conscious, laughed at hs fellows, out his hands up and says, “I’m not looking for trouble. These two wanted to be big men and I tried to warn them.”

I snicker and say, “So you can lord the day they got their asses kicked trying to impress you over them? Or make up some lie about how you saved them? How you whipped my ass while they were unconscious? Sorry partner, can’t do. You gotta get worse than the others.”

When I’m done with him he’s unconscious, has a bruised kidney, three cracked ribs, a broken left orbital bone and both his left canines and his upper left lateral incisor are missing. I then pull down all three of their pants to make it weird for who ever finds them. I managed to enjoy the film despite the constant anticipation of an usher or police officer pulling me from the theater. But, they never did.

[stolenwikidescriptions-blog]

Day 2/132: Paul Myers Park

A 12-hour 50-minute flight sounded like a lot of fun on paper.  Interrupted sleep ending in a rude, dehydrated awakening complete with bleeding lips seemed to almost want to stress that whole “on paper” bit. That being said, the flight did not seem too long based on the bits I actually stayed awake for, and the landing was uneventful. The view on landing, which unfortunately was obscured once in the airport, was stunning though. A sunrise accenting mountains and long-since erupted volcanoes, as a gentle mist barely obscured the furthest aspects, while a warm breeze reminded me that most of my friends and family are stuck in eternal winter. A reassuring greeting, to say the very lest.  Customs was smooth, and declaring hiking gear was altogether a simple job (albeit with the prerequisite airline security curmudgeon). After fully clearing, meeting our new best friends from Arcadia University was easy as. Jane and Caitlin made sure the first faces we saw were bright and happy, seemingly uninterested in the new arrival’s dehydration and sweat marks. The final staff member, Meghan, helped make sure we weren’t completely losing our minds waiting for our bus (and sat through me changing my wool socks to more appropriate footwear in the middle of the arrivals hall - thanks for not making it weird). Meeting the other students was relatively uneventful other than meeting a few folks from Denison and realizing I can never escape Ohio.  Skipping the 30 minute busride into Auckland, we all introduced ourselves in the Kiwi International hotel and then were told we couldn’t shower until 4 pm. Given it was 10 am, hot, humid, and everyone was exhausted, this was met with cheers of glee. After letting us change out of the stickier of our clothes, we went on a guided tour of Auckland, which was frankly beautiful. Park after park of huge, beautiful trees, which we quickly realized spilled out into the streets. I am a sucker for integrated nature and urban areas, and Auckland hasn’t disappointed. We ended at the Queens Wharf, where we wandered, exchanged cash, and got walking lunches to enjoy on the water. While I’d love to wax poetic on how the views were stunning and I forgot I loved being on the water, there are more important issues at hand. Specifically, Peggy. Peggy is a Red-Billed Gull (Chroicocephalus novaehollandiae scopulinus) or tarapunga in Maori, one of the most common endemic birds of New Zealand. They can be found throughout New Zealand and on the outlying islands, and estimates put the total number of individuals at about half an million birds. Curiously enough, while they are aggressive scavangers and will steal food from other birds if the opportunity presents itself, Peggy sat on that pillar for the entirety of my lunch and chat with the other Arcadia students, not moving a muscle. A willing model, and one I would gladly work with again.  We left Auckland for North Head, where we crossed the beach at low tide and climbed up through Maungauika, the Historic Reserve encompassing an observation post and battery originally constructed due to a perceived threat from Russian Invasion (not due to World War 2, as I had confidently proclaimed). Due to low tide making for poor swimming, Takapuna Beach was next our destination. The pumice-strewn sand made for a beautiful view of Rangitoto Island, a volcanic island that rose from the sea some 600 years ago. I’d recommend reading the creation myth and information on Rangitoto here, though a good gist is that demon children of the Fire Gods made their mom angry, so she had the god of Eruptions do some light smiting. Neat stuff. The swim involved me kicking at the sandy bottom far too much, and finding shells to skip (flat scallop shells proved to be the best by far), living sand dollars that someone decided to skip not realizing they were alive, and a rock covered in barnacles. After drying off and advising a fellow student that had met a barnacle rock the hard way of the age old Boy Scout first aid quick fix - apply a tourniquet and treat for shock - we headed back to the Kiwi International hotel to shower for the first time in about 48 hours. Ours had a crawlspace.

Cleanup was followed by pizza, pasta, and salads, and we were let loose to roam the city. I wandered in and out of what shops remained open, though sadly the used bookstores and surplus store were closed early into the night and the sketchy secondhand stores ended up being my best bet. I did make my way down some lovely alleyways, however, and that was strangely refreshing. Towards the end of the night, I went through St. Kevins Arcade, a tiny shopping mall with a completely open entrance leading you to the street and a stairwell that led through the center and spit you out into a park. I had an overpriced, but still quite tasty Japanese beer and let myself rest after not being able to hear what the annoyed attendants were telling me the price of the beer was. Tinnitus and accents, great mix, highly��recommend.

Now, the walk to and from St. Kevins Arcade took me through that stairwell-fed park, called Myers Park. Myers Park holds many things. A surprisingly well-maintained children’s playground. Massive, beautiful trees. A replica of Michelangelo's Moses sculpture. Paul. I met Paul on my way back to the hotel, and he called me over to his chairs and props under a Moreton Bay fig tree he called Valarie (technically an Australian tree, but who’s counting. Don’t tell the Kiwis I said that). He introduced himself as a comedian, poet, inventor, and alcoholic, and explained that this was his park. Paul then treated me to about 40 minutes of impov and prop comedy heavily featuring two chairs, a tattooing arm-rest, a yellow traffic block, a lighter, and his own Steinlager; musical numbers ranging from Classic Rock to Top 40′s pop, with a tasteful dash of Amy Winehouse; impressions; an admittedly impressive display of multilingual aptitude (his Maori knowledge was, by his own admission, cheating given he was a Kiwi, but it didn’t make it less fun); a complete and utter inability to guess my nationality; and just enough crude humor to tie it all together. At the end I had to go as I had locked my roommate out of our room by accidentally keeping our key, but I tipped him 5 NZD for his trouble and left feeling like I knew this country a little better. Or worse. Hard to tell. Godspeed Paul, alcoholic improv comedian and protector of Myers Park. I wish you the best.

[fitnessexpert00-blog]

11 Fitness Tips & Tricks To Battle Wedding/Production Day Hangover

New Post has been published on https://fitnessqia.com/trending/11-fitness-tips-tricks-to-battle-wedding-production-day-hangover/

11 Fitness Tips & Tricks To Battle Wedding/Production Day Hangover

Health and wellness is a consideration every professional photographer should take into account to be the best possible versions of themselves. As photographers, we can find ourselves in odd positions or hiking miles for the perfect photos. Add in the additional weight of the photography gear we carry and the hours we carry it, and you have the perfect storm for soreness, fatigue, and what we in the wedding industry call a “Wedding Hangover.”

Learning how to combat the dreaded post-shoot fatigue is something every photographer can benefit from, regardless of niche. I’ve caught up with some of the best photographers in the industry and asked them how they battle this very real issue, so check out what they had to say on how they keep themselves in the best shape to create amazing photos. I hope their answers will inspire all of us to continue to work to be the best versions of ourselves for not only our clients and our livelihoods, but for ourselves as well!

Anna Nguyen Stratton – Website | Instagram

“Don’t ever forget that your mental health is just as important as your physical health. You should try to take care of both so that you are performing at your absolute best. It can take a huge toll creatively if your mind is feeling weighed down by the stress of running a business and emotionally being there for your clients. A few ideas that have worked well for me in the past are journaling, taking an electronics/social media break, seeing a therapist, and getting monthly massages (this is two-fold benefits!). There are lots of ways to take time for yourself, find the one that works best for you! I also find that clearing my system of sugary drinks or caffeine until the 11th hour (haha) on a wedding day (that little bit of soda for that extra push!) with drinking lots of water (at least half your body weight in oz) 2-3 days and on the day of the wedding not only keep me from becoming dehydrated, getting tired faster, but it also helps clear my mind so I can be creative. I pack with me a 30oz bottle with a straw built in that I drink from on the day of and I refill as necessary.”

Jared Gant – Website | Instagram

“A little over two years ago, I cut all refined sugar and nearly all sugar from my diet. This single adjustment has changed my health (and, without being overly dramatic, my life). My energy level, ability to focus, quality of sleep, among other things have all benefited. I don’t find wedding days to be physically difficult, but what I struggle with is a sore back from sitting at my desk for hours editing and completing other photography-related tasks. I have found that getting up at least once an hour and moving around, paired with 10-15 min of stretching daily, has drastically minimized that discomfort. This is something that anyone could do. Additionally, I enjoy lifting free weights. For less than $100, you can buy a simple set and work out where and when you want. They’re inexpensive, portable, and really you can keep a set in your office and knock out a few sets whenever you have time.”

Brian Mullins – Website | Instagram

“I’m in my 40’s and in my 14 years spent as a photographer, I’ve suffered 2 torn rotator cuff injuries (partial tears) from shooting too much. One of my tears came from working out TOO much and not giving myself enough rest. The other came from simply overshooting and overworking. Both injuries boiled down to one simple thing, not taking care of myself and listening to my body. I’ve found there is no magic bullet for staying in shape but one thing holds true, everything in moderation.

Let’s face it, wedding photography is a physically (and mentally) taxing career. If you don’t adequately prepare for its rigors and listen to what your body is telling you, it will make the choice for you and prevent you from working.

For me, a good diet including lots of veggies, good clean sources of protein, LOTS of water (half my body weight in oz daily) and watching the caffeine intake (which admittedly is a problem). There are some weekends where I will shoot 3-8 hour weddings back to back. It’s amazing how much better I feel on morning #2 and even morning #3 simply by changing my diet. I’m still absolutely wrecked at the end of those weekends but functional. Compared to before where I would literally need a day to recover.

Exercise is really different for each person. I’ve hit the weights, run 5k’s, kickboxing and even just tried being “active”. Every time I’ve been injured it’s from going too far into one thing. Balance really is key, especially as you get older. So now I run a couple of times a week, hit the weights a couple times a week and kickbox the others. If I’m feeling really run down or weak, I’ll still go but won’t push myself.”

Citlalli Rico – Website | Instagram

“I had to change my diet drastically 4 years ago and started working with my beloved nutritionist who gave me an awesome recipe for a “day after wedding” smoothie. It works like magic:

2 cups of spinach 1 or 2 bananas 1 teaspoon of peanut butter 1 tablespoon of ground flaxseed 1 tablespoon of vegetarian protein powder

It helps your body and your brain after a long day of intense thinking and moving.”

Vanessa Joy – Website | Instagram

“I do yoga! Yoga specificities for Photographers actually. It targets exactly where my problem areas are and strengths and stretches them. There are tons you can do by my fav is the Post Wedding Hangover that you can find right here!”

Amii & Andy Kauth – Website | Instagram

“Besides chasing 5 children around every day? We have a well-equipped garage gym (used to do CrossFit back in the day), train jiu-jitsu, and eat clean (mostly). We’re also getting back into snowboarding this winter + surfing in 2019! We’re in our upper 30s (Amii)/low 40s (Andy), and we think we’re 20 … probably act like it too (more often than not). We attribute it all to regular exercise, eating well, and having positive attitudes.”

Megan Allen – Website | Instagram

Image by: Jason Vinson

“As a wedding photographer, I used to have the most brutal, hit-by-a-mack-truck wedding hangovers the day after a wedding. I was sore, emotionally tapped out, and it really took a full 24 hours for me to feel back to “normal” after a wedding day. Coming from being a collegiate athlete to having my butt kicked by a single day event was a wakeup call for me for my overall health, not just on the wedding days, but every day. I found myself getting winded on adventure shoots with my couples, and I realized, if I want them to climb a mountain with me, I have to be able to physically climb the mountain myself, and not be a health risk in the process! After a year of struggling, I really examined myself, my goals personally and for my business, and hired a personal trainer. He got me on the right track in both the gym and nutrition (spoiler alert: when you’re 30+, you can’t eat the cookie dough at midnight like you did when you were 20 and running 3+ miles a day for basketball), and I began to feel completely different, both on wedding days and every day. I now work out with weights 4-5x a week, focusing on a different area each day, as well as a few days of cardio, be it stairs, the treadmill, or a bike. Nutritionally, I watch my macro intake, choosing to go for a high protein diet that allows me to fuel my days in a solid manner, and not just go for that 5th cup of coffee to spur the next 3 hours. I’ve felt a huge shift in my ability to move and stay engaged on a wedding day, and I also don’t feel the wedding hangover blues nearly as much — it has to be one heck of a wedding for me to be sore the day after now!”

Shivani Reddy – Website | Instagram

“As photographers, we are on our feet anywhere from 10-20 hours. This has horrible consequences for several parts of our body and requires some TLC to alleviate the pain. After you’ve come back home and showered, (hopefully that is part of your post-shooting routine), lie in bed on your back and elevate your legs so the blood rushes down. Flex and point your toes to roll your feet in clockwise & counter-clockwise movements. Then, flex and grab the arch of your foot and pull it down towards your chest. I learned this trick from years as a dancer, being on my feet and placing immense pressure on them for hours on end. Stretching all over is always a good idea (yoga is golden for post-shooting days!), especially if you are carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders and back!”

Sean LeBlanc – Website | Instagram

“To stay fit throughout the year, I play ice hockey twice a week. I grew up playing hockey (almost made it to minor pro) and have a love for the game. Hockey provides a great cardio workout and really helps clear your mind while having a lot of fun with good friends and colleagues. My wife and I both run our businesses from home and have two young busy boys so we get up early to get our workouts and hockey games into our schedule. My wife will stay home with the boys while I head to the hockey rink for a 6:45AM game and vice versa (except my wife hits the gym). Then when I get home I feel energized and ready to tackle the day.”

Pye Jirsa – Website | Instagram

“Wedding and production days are one-part creative, and one-part construction worker. They are grueling days that would leave me with back injuries, shoulder pain, and aching knees. Interestingly, it all went away with strength training. In 2014 I decided to make a lifestyle change by eating clean and regularly doing HIIT. Within months, the back injuries vanished, I felt light on my feet, and I could lift significantly more weight without tiring. The day after, or even night after production, I could still go running for miles. Today, here’s what my regiment looks like:

1. Sunday Meal Prep (low-fat/low-carb) 2. Mon (Chest/Back), Tues (Legs), Wed (Shoulders/Arms), Thurs (Core) 3. Yoga 1-2x per week for flexibility/recovery”

Eric Talerico – Website | Instagram

Image by: Gennaro Ditto

“This year I will be 40 and I’ve never felt better in my life. Training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu for the past 7 years has taught me a lot about myself and my health. I know how far I can push my body before it breaks, literally, and how to prepare for extremely physical days that are required of a wedding photographer. Through much trial and error, I’ve learned that good health is a lifestyle, not a quick fix, and I feel best when adhering to a few basic principles. The first, and most important, is getting enough rest. I shoot for 8 hours every night, especially the days before weddings. I discovered that I am much more creative when well rested, which is important when you are a creative professional. Second is a healthy diet. Over the years I cut out processed foods, preservatives, vegetable oils, refined sugars and refined carbs from my diet. I also eat organic and natural if that option is available and only drink water and coffee. It’s not easy, and I’m not going lie, I have my cheat days, but following this routine on a consistent basis has worked wonders for my overall health. I also do intermittent fasting which helps with those long weddings days when you don’t have an opportunity to eat. The last is engaging in physical activity. It’s not so much the type of activity that is important but rather finding something that you are passionate about. If you are passionate about a physical activity the health benefits will be the easy part. I find that maintaining these 3 principles help keep me in tip-top shape, especially for those long wedding days.”

What are some of your favorite tips & tricks for battling post-shoot days? 

Source

11 Fitness Tips & Tricks To Battle Wedding/Production Day Hangover

[slrlounge1]

11 Fitness Tips & Tricks To Battle Wedding/Production Day Hangover

Health and wellness is a consideration every professional photographer should take into account to be the best possible versions of themselves. As photographers, we can find ourselves in odd positions or hiking miles for the perfect photos. Add in the additional weight of the photographic gear we carry and the hours we many times will be carrying it, and you have the perfect storm for soreness, fatigue, and what we in the wedding industry call a “Wedding Hangover.”

Learning how to combat the dreaded post-shoot fatigue is something every photographer can benefit from, regardless of niche. I’ve caught up with some of the best photographers in the industry and asked them how they battle this very real issue, so check out what these photographers had to say on how they keep themselves in the best shape to create the amazing photos you’ll find from them below. I hope their answers will inspire all of us to continue to work to be the best versions of ourselves for not only our clients and our livelihoods, but for ourselves as well!

Anna Nguyen Stratton – Website | Instagram

Don’t ever forget that your mental health is just as important as your physical health. You should try to take care of both so that you are performing at your absolute best. It can take a huge toll creatively if your mind is feeling weighed down by the stress of running a business and emotionally being there for your clients. A few ideas that have worked well for me in the past is journaling, taking an electronics/social media break, seeing a therapist, and getting monthly massages (this is two-fold benefits!). There are lots of ways to take time for yourself, find the one that works best for you! I also find that clearing my system of sugary drinks or caffeine until the 11th hour (haha) on a wedding day (that little bit of soda for that extra push!) with drinking lots of water (at least half your body weight in oz) 2-3 days and on the day of the wedding not only keep me from becoming dehydrated, getting tired faster, but it also helped clear my mind so I could be creative. I pack with me a 30oz bottle with a straw built in that I drink from on the day of and I refill as necessary.

Jared Gant – Website | Instagram

A little over two years ago, I cut all refined sugar and nearly all sugar from my diet. This single adjustment has changed my health (and, without being overly dramatic, my life). My energy level, ability to focus, quality of sleep, among other things have all benefited. I don’t find wedding days to be physically difficult, but what I struggle with is a sore back from sitting at my desk for hours editing and completing other photography-related tasks. I have found that getting up at least once an hour and moving around, paired with 10-15 min of stretching daily, has drastically minimized that discomfort. This is something that anyone could do. Additionally, I enjoy lifting free weights. For less than $100, you can buy a simple set and work out where and when you want. They’re inexpensive, portable, and really you can keep a set in your office and knock out a few sets whenever you have time.

Brian Mullins – Website | Instagram

I’m in my 40’s and in my 14 years spent as a photographer, I’ve suffered 2 torn rotator cuff injuries (partial tears) from shooting too much. One of my tears came from working out TOO much and not giving myself enough rest. The other came from simply overshooting and overworking. Both injuries boiled down to one simple thing, not taking care of myself and listening to my body. I’ve found there is no magic bullet for staying in shape but one thing holds true, everything in moderation.

Let’s face it, wedding photography is a physically (and mentally) taxing career. If you don’t adequately prepare for its rigors and listen to what your body is telling you, it will make the choice for you and prevent you from working.

For me, a good diet including lots of veggies, good clean sources of protein, LOTS of water (half my body weight in oz daily) and watching the caffeine intake (which admittedly is a problem). There are some weekends where I will shoot 3-8 hour weddings back to back. It’s amazing how much better I feel on morning #2 and even morning #3 simply by changing my diet. I’m still absolutely wrecked at the end of those weekends but functional. Compared to before where I would literally need a day to recover.

Exercise is really different for each person. I’ve hit the weights, run 5k’s, kickboxing and even just tried being “active”. Every time I’ve been injured it’s from going too far into one thing. Balance really is key, especially as you get older. So now I run a couple of times a week, hit the weights a couple times a week and kickbox the others. If I’m feeling really run down or weak, I’ll still go but won’t push myself.

Citlalli Rico – Website | Instagram

I had to change my diet drastically 4 years ago and started working with my beloved nutritionist who gave me an awesome recipe for a “day after wedding” smoothie. It works like magic:

2 cups of spinach 1 or 2 bananas 1 teaspoon of peanut butter 1 tablespoon of ground flaxseed 1 tablespoon of vegetarian protein powder

It helps your body and your brain after a long day of intense thinking and moving.

Vanessa Joy – Website | Instagram

I do yoga! Yoga specificities for Photographers actually. It targets exactly where my problem areas are and strengths and stretches them. There are tons you can do by my fav is the Post Wedding Hangover that you can find right here!

  Amii & Andy Kauth – Website | Instagram

Besides chasing 5 children around every day? We have a well-equipped garage gym (used to do CrossFit back in the day), train jiu-jitsu, and eat clean (mostly). We’re also getting back into snowboarding this winter + surfing in 2019! We’re in our upper 30s (Amii)/low 40s (Andy), and we think we’re 20 … probably act like it too (more often than not). We attribute it all to: regular exercise, eating well, and having positive attitudes.

Megan Allen – Website | Instagram

As a wedding photographer, I used to have the most brutal, hit-by-a-mack-truck wedding hangovers the day after a wedding. I was sore, emotionally tapped out, and it really took a full 24 hours for me to feel back to “normal” after a wedding day. Coming from being a collegiate athlete to having my butt kicked by a single day event was a wakeup call for me for my overall health, not just on the wedding days, but every day. I found myself getting winded on adventure shoots with my couples, and I realized, if I want them to climb a mountain with me, I have to be able to physically climb the mountain myself, and not be a health risk in the process! After a year of struggling, I really examined myself, my goals personally and for my business, and hired a personal trainer. He got me on the right track in both the gym and nutrition (spoiler alert: when you’re 30+, you can’t eat the cookie dough at midnight like you did when you were 20 and running 3+ miles a day for basketball), and I began to feel completely different, both on wedding days and every day. I now work out with weights 4-5x a week, focusing on a different area each day, as well as a few days of cardio, be it stairs, the treadmill, or a bike. Nutritionally, I watch my macro intake, choosing to go for a high protein diet that allows me to fuel my days in a solid manner, and not just go for that 5th cup of coffee to spur the next 3 hours. I’ve felt a huge shift in my ability to move and stay engaged on a wedding day, and I also don’t feel the wedding hangover blues nearly as much — it has to be one heck of a wedding for me to be sore the day after now!

Shivani Reddy – Website | Instagram

As photographers, we are on our feet anywhere from 10-20 hours. This has horrible consequences for our several parts of our body and requires some TLC to alleviate the pain. After you’ve come back home and showered, (hopefully that is part of your post-shooting routine), lie in bed on your back and elevate your legs so the blood rushes down. Flex and point your toes to roll your feet in clockwise & counter-clockwise movements. Then, flex and grab the arch of your foot and pull it down towards your chest. I learned this trick from years as a dancer, being on my feet and placing immense pressure on them for hours on end. Stretching all over is always a good idea (yoga is golden for post-shooting days!), especially if you are carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders and back!

Sean LeBlanc – Website | Instagram

To stay fit throughout the year, I play ice hockey twice a week. I grew up playing hockey (almost made it to minor pro) and have a love for the game. Hockey provides a great cardio workout and really helps clear your mind while having a lot of fun with good friends and colleagues. My wife and I both run our businesses from home and have two young busy boys so we get up early to get our workouts and hockey games into our schedule. My wife will stay home with the boys while I head to the hockey rink for a 6:45AM game and vice versa (except my wife hits the gym). Then when I get home I feel energized and ready to tackle the day.

Pye Jirsa – Website | Instagram

Wedding and production days are one-part creative, and one-part construction worker. They are grueling days that would leave me with back injuries, shoulder pain, and aching knees. Interestingly, it all went away with strength training. In 2014 I decided to make a lifestyle change by eating clean and regularly doing HIIT. Within months, the back injuries vanished, I felt light on my feet, and I could lift significantly more weight without tiring. The day after, or even night after production, I could still go running for miles. Today, here’s what my regiment looks like:

1. Sunday Meal Prep (low-fat/low-carb) 2. Mon (Chest/Back), Tues (Legs), Wed (Shoulders/Arms), Thurs (Core) 3. Yoga 1-2x per week for flexibility/recovery

Eric Talerico – Website | Instagram

This year I will be 40 and I’ve never felt better in my life. Training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu for the past 7 years has taught me a lot about myself and my health. I know how far I can push my body before it breaks, literally, and how to prepare for extremely physical days that are required of a wedding photographer. Through much trial and error, I’ve learned that good health is a lifestyle, not a quick fix, and I feel best when adhering to a few basic principles. The first, and most important, is getting enough rest. I shoot for 8 hours every night, especially the days before weddings. I discovered that I am much more creative when well rested, which is important when you are a creative professional. Second is a healthy diet. Over the years I cut out processed foods, preservatives, vegetable oils, refined sugars and refined carbs from my diet. I also eat organic and natural if that option is available and only drink water and coffee. It’s not easy, and I’m not going lie, I have my cheat days, but following this routine on a consistent basis has worked wonders for my overall health. I also do intermittent fasting which helps with those long weddings days when you don’t have an opportunity to eat. The last is engaging in physical activity. It’s not so much the type of activity that is important but rather finding something that you are passionate about. If you are passionate about a physical activity the health benefits will be the easy part. I find that maintaining these 3 principles help keep me in tip-top shape, especially for those long wedding days.

What are some of your favorite tips & tricks for battling post-shoot days? 

from SLR Lounge http://bit.ly/2TSbR3B via IFTTT

[nancygduarteus]

'Forest Bathing': How Microdosing on Nature Can Help With Stress

On first glance, it looked like a two-hour walk in the woods. Our guide had already tackled the hard part of finding a trail with minimal elevation gain and limited poison oak along its flanks. This wasn’t a hike, we were reminded. A hike usually involved clear endpoints and physical exertion. We were invited to walk slower than usual, perhaps a quarter of our normal speed. To pay attention to the different shades of green we encountered, the snapping of twigs beneath our feet, the sudden vaulting of winged life—nothing was ornamental.  Everything was in its right place, including us. The forest bathers and I had come to the woods in search of peace.  All of us were to be present, focused solely on the moment. Our immersion in the natural world would act not only as a balm to everyday stresses but a catalyst: According to the event description, we had gathered outside that day to emerge, as flowers might after a long winter.

In 1982, Japan made shinrin-yoku, or “forest bathing,” a part of its national health program. The aim was to briefly reconnect people with nature in the simplest way possible. Go to the woods, breathe deeply, be at peace. Forest bathing was Japan’s medically sanctioned method of unplugging before there were smartphones to unplug from. Since shinrin-yoku’s inception, researchers have spent millions of dollars testing its efficacy; the documented benefits to one’s health thus far include lowered blood pressure, blood glucose levels, and stress hormones.

I showed up at Joaquin Miller Park in Oakland, California that afternoon for the purported mental-health boost. The four other attendees and I exchanged pleasantries by the trailhead as the sun baked our arms. All of us were women—although San Francisco’s “Forest Bathing Club” Meetup group boasts 428 members across the gender spectrum. However, I’d discovered this outing not on the Meetup but via a late-night, anxiety-induced Google search.

We started off by walking down a paved path. Talking among ourselves was not discouraged, exactly, but neither was it encouraged. A children’s birthday party had claimed a coveted nook among the redwoods to our left. The streaming tinsel of their conical hats could be seen between the branches. I trained my gaze higher, slowly, until it nearly grazed the sky. Six shades of green. A short while later we were in the forest proper. Airplanes could be heard overhead, but just barely. In the woods, the sounds of our wandering were deafening. Each step we took brought an orchestra to life. At one point a blanket emerged from our instructor’s pack. We lay on our backs in a circle, our bottom halves flat against the earth. A stray ant traced the length of my index finger and disappeared behind a rock. The five of us were invited to consider the tops of the trees above, how they swayed even when thick trunks kept them rooted. We closed our eyes as our instructor continued to speak in soothing tones. My mind, blissfully, went blank.

The popularity of forest bathing in the U.S. is unsurprising, particularly in metropolitan areas where people may wish to get outside more often than they wish to go outdoors. To many, the former sounds closer to a stroll in the park than a trek up a mountain. Forest bathing sits in the middle of this false dichotomy, one where people associate being in nature with roughing it or struggle to think of experiencing nature as relaxing. Instead, forest bathers intentionally go outside to relax with nature, and allow nature to help them relax.

An entire industry has cropped up around the practice of forest bathing, ranging from high-end spas eager to lure guests with eco-therapy offerings to training sessions around the globe for the next generation of forest bathing instructors. Tuition for those looking to become formally certified as forest bathing guides runs upwards of $3,200, not including travel, lodging, or food. Some might scoff, but upcoming training sessions in the Berkshires as well as in Northern California are already at capacity.

But what does forest bathing at large look like in a country as vast as America? How does it differ from park prescriptions, where doctors prescribe park outings to their patients? Or from organizations such as GirlTrek, whose aim is to get black women to walk outside for a minimum of 30 minutes a day? While Japan has numerous official “forest therapy trails,” the size and ecological diversity of the U.S. makes it impossible for most people to forest bathe in the ways described thus far. So who, exactly, has access to forest bathing? And is there room for interpretation when it comes to the term? Forest bathing made complete sense in certain geographic areas, namely those with low humidity and temperatures in the 70s. It made less sense in the swamps of South Carolina. I’d felt at peace floating down a river in an inner tube in Florida as a child, but I’d also felt sweaty, thirsty, itchy, and uncomfortable often enough to dive into the water and climb back out.

In Japan, a forest-therapy base must meet certain criteria to be recognized by the government, including a scientific evaluation of its healing ability. In America, however, there are no set guidelines for what constitutes a forest bathing environment. Which raises the question: Is a forest essential to forest bathing? Could one forest bathe in the desert? Or in a park in the middle of a city?

I brought up these questions with my instructor after our walk. He believed anyone anywhere could forest bathe, that the term was never intended to limit what kind of nature individuals expose themselves to. According to him, if people are going outside and centering themselves in nature, they’re forest bathing, even if they’re at the beach. He stressed that the most important thing was getting people to associate being in nature with feeling good. According to the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy, forest bathing “is a research-based framework for supporting healing and wellness through immersion in forests and other natural environments.” That last “and” is important; the forest itself might not be necessary.

Certain research indicates that perhaps you can get some benefits even without the actual outdoors, although such extrapolation is bound to be contentious. Studies conducted by Roger Ulrich at Texas A&M concluded that “environments with nature-related imagery, such as photographs and paintings on the wall, reduce anxiety, lower blood pressure, and reduce pain.” Just looking at an image of nature could be healing.

Virtual environmental therapy may offer a middle ground for those unable to enjoy the outdoors for one reason or another, whether due to physical or environmental limitations. “A real-life experiment is under way at the Snake River Correctional Institution in eastern Oregon,” writes Florence Williams in National Geographic. “Officers there report calmer behavior in solitary confinement prisoners who exercise for 40 minutes several days a week in a ‘blue room’ where nature videos are playing, compared with those who exercise in a gym without videos.”

Likewise, video game consoles are nature-themed, living-room holodecks waiting to happen. Games like Firewatch, a walking simulator set in Shoshone National Forest, offer a free-roam mode, where one can wander hiking trails aimlessly to their heart’s content. In Flower, one plays as a petal that endlessly floats on a breeze. Walden, A Game is an adaptation of Henry David Thoreau’s life among nature. Such gaming experiences fill a niche that appears poised to grow substantially. If individuals recovering from surgery with a view of a garden can heal faster than those with a view of a brick wall, can non-immersive exposure to nature benefit people in other ways.

Admittedly, nothing can take the place of actually going outside and feeling the sun and wind against one’s skin. However, one of the biggest hurdles to getting people the health benefits of the outdoors is helping individuals, especially those from marginalized groups, to feel more comfortable in natural settings. I came to nature through water. A love of beaches and rivers primed me to love other outdoor environments. Everything has to start somewhere. Video games might lead to forest bathing, and forest bathing might lead to hiking (or swimming, or outdoor yoga); all of these are a means to an end, and that end is better health.

My forest bath concluded with a tea ceremony of foraged California bay leaves. They’d been steeped in a thermos of hot water my instructor had brought along. Everyone pooled their snacks together. The group discussed how we felt before and after the walk. Several noted a significant drop in anxiety, including myself. I had come to the woods that day as an experienced thru-hiker, with the hope forest bathing would feel like microdosing a rest day on the Appalachian Trail. And to an extent it did, even without the associated prolonged exertion and endorphins. Transformations come in packages big and small. What forest bathing got me to do for the first time since leaving the A.T. was prioritize my mental health. I could have been recreating with friends in a number of different ways, or working on writing assignments, or on chores at home. Instead, forest bathing reminded me of how important it was to leave my house, shut off my phone, tell my loved ones I’d see them later, and breathe in the world because it was mine.

from Health News And Updates https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2017/06/forest-bathing/532068/?utm_source=feed

[ionecoffman]

'Forest Bathing': How Microdosing on Nature Can Help With Stress

On first glance, it looked like a two-hour walk in the woods. Our guide had already tackled the hard part of finding a trail with minimal elevation gain and limited poison oak along its flanks. This wasn’t a hike, we were reminded. A hike usually involved clear endpoints and physical exertion. We were invited to walk slower than usual, perhaps a quarter of our normal speed. To pay attention to the different shades of green we encountered, the snapping of twigs beneath our feet, the sudden vaulting of winged life—nothing was ornamental.  Everything was in its right place, including us. The forest bathers and I had come to the woods in search of peace.  All of us were to be present, focused solely on the moment. Our immersion in the natural world would act not only as a balm to everyday stresses but a catalyst: According to the event description, we had gathered outside that day to emerge, as flowers might after a long winter.

In 1982, Japan made shinrin-yoku, or “forest bathing,” a part of its national health program. The aim was to briefly reconnect people with nature in the simplest way possible. Go to the woods, breathe deeply, be at peace. Forest bathing was Japan’s medically sanctioned method of unplugging before there were smartphones to unplug from. Since shinrin-yoku’s inception, researchers have spent millions of dollars testing its efficacy; the documented benefits to one’s health thus far include lowered blood pressure, blood glucose levels, and stress hormones.

I showed up at Joaquin Miller Park in Oakland, California that afternoon for the purported mental-health boost. The four other attendees and I exchanged pleasantries by the trailhead as the sun baked our arms. All of us were women—although San Francisco’s “Forest Bathing Club” Meetup group boasts 428 members across the gender spectrum. However, I’d discovered this outing not on the Meetup but via a late-night, anxiety-induced Google search.

We started off by walking down a paved path. Talking among ourselves was not discouraged, exactly, but neither was it encouraged. A children’s birthday party had claimed a coveted nook among the redwoods to our left. The streaming tinsel of their conical hats could be seen between the branches. I trained my gaze higher, slowly, until it nearly grazed the sky. Six shades of green. A short while later we were in the forest proper. Airplanes could be heard overhead, but just barely. In the woods, the sounds of our wandering were deafening. Each step we took brought an orchestra to life. At one point a blanket emerged from our instructor’s pack. We lay on our backs in a circle, our bottom halves flat against the earth. A stray ant traced the length of my index finger and disappeared behind a rock. The five of us were invited to consider the tops of the trees above, how they swayed even when thick trunks kept them rooted. We closed our eyes as our instructor continued to speak in soothing tones. My mind, blissfully, went blank.

The popularity of forest bathing in the U.S. is unsurprising, particularly in metropolitan areas where people may wish to get outside more often than they wish to go outdoors. To many, the former sounds closer to a stroll in the park than a trek up a mountain. Forest bathing sits in the middle of this false dichotomy, one where people associate being in nature with roughing it or struggle to think of experiencing nature as relaxing. Instead, forest bathers intentionally go outside to relax with nature, and allow nature to help them relax.

An entire industry has cropped up around the practice of forest bathing, ranging from high-end spas eager to lure guests with eco-therapy offerings to training sessions around the globe for the next generation of forest bathing instructors. Tuition for those looking to become formally certified as forest bathing guides runs upwards of $3,200, not including travel, lodging, or food. Some might scoff, but upcoming training sessions in the Berkshires as well as in Northern California are already at capacity.

But what does forest bathing at large look like in a country as vast as America? How does it differ from park prescriptions, where doctors prescribe park outings to their patients? Or from organizations such as GirlTrek, whose aim is to get black women to walk outside for a minimum of 30 minutes a day? While Japan has numerous official “forest therapy trails,” the size and ecological diversity of the U.S. makes it impossible for most people to forest bathe in the ways described thus far. So who, exactly, has access to forest bathing? And is there room for interpretation when it comes to the term? Forest bathing made complete sense in certain geographic areas, namely those with low humidity and temperatures in the 70s. It made less sense in the swamps of South Carolina. I’d felt at peace floating down a river in an inner tube in Florida as a child, but I’d also felt sweaty, thirsty, itchy, and uncomfortable often enough to dive into the water and climb back out.

In Japan, a forest-therapy base must meet certain criteria to be recognized by the government, including a scientific evaluation of its healing ability. In America, however, there are no set guidelines for what constitutes a forest bathing environment. Which raises the question: Is a forest essential to forest bathing? Could one forest bathe in the desert? Or in a park in the middle of a city?

I brought up these questions with my instructor after our walk. He believed anyone anywhere could forest bathe, that the term was never intended to limit what kind of nature individuals expose themselves to. According to him, if people are going outside and centering themselves in nature, they’re forest bathing, even if they’re at the beach. He stressed that the most important thing was getting people to associate being in nature with feeling good. According to the Association of Nature and Forest Therapy, forest bathing “is a research-based framework for supporting healing and wellness through immersion in forests and other natural environments.” That last “and” is important; the forest itself might not be necessary.

Certain research indicates that perhaps you can get some benefits even without the actual outdoors, although such extrapolation is bound to be contentious. Studies conducted by Roger Ulrich at Texas A&M concluded that “environments with nature-related imagery, such as photographs and paintings on the wall, reduce anxiety, lower blood pressure, and reduce pain.” Just looking at an image of nature could be healing.

Virtual environmental therapy may offer a middle ground for those unable to enjoy the outdoors for one reason or another, whether due to physical or environmental limitations. “A real-life experiment is under way at the Snake River Correctional Institution in eastern Oregon,” writes Florence Williams in National Geographic. “Officers there report calmer behavior in solitary confinement prisoners who exercise for 40 minutes several days a week in a ‘blue room’ where nature videos are playing, compared with those who exercise in a gym without videos.”

Likewise, video game consoles are nature-themed, living-room holodecks waiting to happen. Games like Firewatch, a walking simulator set in Shoshone National Forest, offer a free-roam mode, where one can wander hiking trails aimlessly to their heart’s content. In Flower, one plays as a petal that endlessly floats on a breeze. Walden, A Game is an adaptation of Henry David Thoreau’s life among nature. Such gaming experiences fill a niche that appears poised to grow substantially. If individuals recovering from surgery with a view of a garden can heal faster than those with a view of a brick wall, can non-immersive exposure to nature benefit people in other ways.

Admittedly, nothing can take the place of actually going outside and feeling the sun and wind against one’s skin. However, one of the biggest hurdles to getting people the health benefits of the outdoors is helping individuals, especially those from marginalized groups, to feel more comfortable in natural settings. I came to nature through water. A love of beaches and rivers primed me to love other outdoor environments. Everything has to start somewhere. Video games might lead to forest bathing, and forest bathing might lead to hiking (or swimming, or outdoor yoga); all of these are a means to an end, and that end is better health.

My forest bath concluded with a tea ceremony of foraged California bay leaves. They’d been steeped in a thermos of hot water my instructor had brought along. Everyone pooled their snacks together. The group discussed how we felt before and after the walk. Several noted a significant drop in anxiety, including myself. I had come to the woods that day as an experienced thru-hiker, with the hope forest bathing would feel like microdosing a rest day on the Appalachian Trail. And to an extent it did, even without the associated prolonged exertion and endorphins. Transformations come in packages big and small. What forest bathing got me to do for the first time since leaving the A.T. was prioritize my mental health. I could have been recreating with friends in a number of different ways, or working on writing assignments, or on chores at home. Instead, forest bathing reminded me of how important it was to leave my house, shut off my phone, tell my loved ones I’d see them later, and breathe in the world because it was mine.

Article source here:The Atlantic

[gwendominica]

All the leaves are [gone] (all the leaves are [gone]) And the sky is gray (and the sky is gray) I’ve been for a walk (I’ve been for a walk) On a winter’s day (on a winter’s day)

I’d be safe and warm (I’d be safe and warm) If I was in [D/A] (if I was in [D/A]) [Dominica] dreamin’ ([Dominica] dreamin’) On such a winter’s day*

During these dark days of winter, I do dream of Dominica frequently and am grateful for constant contact with many friends there. It is my intention to return for a lengthy visit as soon as possible. Maybe it is a good thing to be delayed for a bit as I attend to some overdue obligations here, after so many years away from my ‘home and native land’. I get to experience a once -familiar culture, which of course has changed with the times (for better and/or worse), complain about a northern winter, and  reflect on almost 20 years of incredible experiences on the Nature Isle!

As we know, climate change is making its presence felt with alarming regularity and intensity,  no matter where we live.   I did not miss the devastating rainfall events that Dominica and other countries in the Eastern Caribbean experienced in November and December 2016. Meanwhile, it is decidedly ‘cold’ here, and the greatest challenge is negotiating  ubiquitous ice on sidewalks and roadways.  There can be snow and frigid temperatures for a few days, and then it warms up a bit so that the snow melts, followed by a cooling off at night that creates treacherous conditions for moving around outside. This type of weather is increasingly commonplace ‘up here’ – the snow doesn’t stay as it once did along the southernmost Great Lakes, where I live.  Admittedly, I am not a fan of  the cold weather in Canada  (below 20 C or 68 F for me!)which necessitates donning several layers of clothing (and bedding) in order to be ‘warm’ at this time of year.  Even a brisk walk over  a long distance for an hour or more barely brings a trickle of sweat to my brow!

In any event, it’s a New Year, and in keeping with one of my resolutions, it is my intention to turn Ti Domnik Tales into an eBook.  I will go through the archives of over 150 stories, as well as add a few new ones. But they will not be publicized until the  final product is ready for release. A selection of the existing pieces will be modified, merged and edited, and that is part of the fun!  Do you have a  favourite post or a particular topic I have written about that interests you?  Let me know, and I’ll be sure to re-blog that feature from my collection of adventures and experiences on the Nature Isle!  You are welcome to respond by putting a remark in the reply box at the bottom of this post. Did you know that you can also search for specific subjects contained in Ti Domnik Tales posts? There is a search box, in which you may insert keywords on the right hand side of this post.

As I’ve always loved themes,I will focus on my best-loved things-to-do on Dominica (and there are quite a few!) in specific categories to put in the formal compilation.As part of the preparatory publishing exercise, I will also re-blog some oldies but goodies that have been very well received since the inception of this site  almost five years ago.

Sincere thanks to all readers, followers and fans of Ti Domnik Tales on various social media platforms. As we enter 2017, I am thrilled to report that this blog has received over 100,000 visits from great people like you!

Finally, I wish you and yours a rewarding and fulfilling New Year and hope that you

Happy New Year from me to you! Photo taken on a (relatively) mild  and (rare) sunny winter’s day, January 2, 2017 at Kingston, Ontario Canada.

will have good health, happiness and prosperity in whatever you do. Together, let’s practice a peaceful  and respectful way of life every day too.

Here are a few photos that I have included for your interest, which compare and contrast winter in my present place of residence (Kingston Ontario) alongside my  beloved Dominica, stuff of my dreams.  While I endeavor to make the most of both worlds, there is definitely no place like the Nature Island. I’ll be back as soon as I can!

A dark Christmas Eve in Roseau in 2013 due to heavy rainfall.

The walking/driving is treacherous on some streets over Christmas 2016 in Kingston Ontario Canada

Hiking is my favourite sport on Dominica. Pictured are hiking buddies Wendy and Liz en route to Middleham Falls.

Skating is a favourite winter pass-time in Canada. I’ve yet to don a pair of skates. It’s been about 25 years since I last did!

A clear day, looking north from Pointe Michel to Morne Diablotin, Dominica.

A clear day, looking south from the Kingston Ontario waterfront over Lake Ontario on a calm January day.

A winter sunset from Wallhouse (near Roseau) Dominica.

A November super-moonrise over the Cataraqui River at Kingston Ontario.

*Lyrics slightly adapted by Gwendominica/Canary Gal from the original song, California Dreamin’, sung by the Mamas & Papas (1965).

Dominica Dreamin’ on a Canadian Winter’s Day All the leaves are (all the leaves are ) And the sky is gray (and the sky is gray)

[slrlounge1]

11 Fitness Tips & Tricks To Battle Wedding/Production Day Hangover

Health and wellness is a consideration every professional photographer should take into account to be the best possible versions of themselves. As photographers, we can find ourselves in odd positions or hiking miles for the perfect photos. Add in the additional weight of the photographic gear we carry and the hours we many times will be carrying it, and you have the perfect storm for soreness, fatigue, and what we in the wedding industry call a “Wedding Hangover.”

Learning how to combat the dreaded post-shoot fatigue is something every photographer can benefit from, regardless of niche. I’ve caught up with some of the best photographers in the industry and asked them how they battle this very real issue, so check out what these photographers had to say on how they keep themselves in the best shape to create the amazing photos you’ll find from them below. I hope their answers will inspire all of us to continue to work to be the best versions of ourselves for not only our clients and our livelihoods, but for ourselves as well!

Anna Nguyen Stratton – Website | Instagram

Don’t ever forget that your mental health is just as important as your physical health. You should try to take care of both so that you are performing at your absolute best. It can take a huge toll creatively if your mind is feeling weighed down by the stress of running a business and emotionally being there for your clients. A few ideas that have worked well for me in the past is journaling, taking an electronics/social media break, seeing a therapist, and getting monthly massages (this is two-fold benefits!). There are lots of ways to take time for yourself, find the one that works best for you! I also find that clearing my system of sugary drinks or caffeine until the 11th hour (haha) on a wedding day (that little bit of soda for that extra push!) with drinking lots of water (at least half your body weight in oz) 2-3 days and on the day of the wedding not only keep me from becoming dehydrated, getting tired faster, but it also helped clear my mind so I could be creative. I pack with me a 30oz bottle with a straw built in that I drink from on the day of and I refill as necessary.

Jared Gant – Website | Instagram

A little over two years ago, I cut all refined sugar and nearly all sugar from my diet. This single adjustment has changed my health (and, without being overly dramatic, my life). My energy level, ability to focus, quality of sleep, among other things have all benefited. I don’t find wedding days to be physically difficult, but what I struggle with is a sore back from sitting at my desk for hours editing and completing other photography-related tasks. I have found that getting up at least once an hour and moving around, paired with 10-15 min of stretching daily, has drastically minimized that discomfort. This is something that anyone could do. Additionally, I enjoy lifting free weights. For less than $100, you can buy a simple set and work out where and when you want. They’re inexpensive, portable, and really you can keep a set in your office and knock out a few sets whenever you have time.

Brian Mullins – Website | Instagram

I’m in my 40’s and in my 14 years spent as a photographer, I’ve suffered 2 torn rotator cuff injuries (partial tears) from shooting too much. One of my tears came from working out TOO much and not giving myself enough rest. The other came from simply overshooting and overworking. Both injuries boiled down to one simple thing, not taking care of myself and listening to my body. I’ve found there is no magic bullet for staying in shape but one thing holds true, everything in moderation.

Let’s face it, wedding photography is a physically (and mentally) taxing career. If you don’t adequately prepare for its rigors and listen to what your body is telling you, it will make the choice for you and prevent you from working.

For me, a good diet including lots of veggies, good clean sources of protein, LOTS of water (half my body weight in oz daily) and watching the caffeine intake (which admittedly is a problem). There are some weekends where I will shoot 3-8 hour weddings back to back. It’s amazing how much better I feel on morning #2 and even morning #3 simply by changing my diet. I’m still absolutely wrecked at the end of those weekends but functional. Compared to before where I would literally need a day to recover.

Exercise is really different for each person. I’ve hit the weights, run 5k’s, kickboxing and even just tried being “active”. Every time I’ve been injured it’s from going too far into one thing. Balance really is key, especially as you get older. So now I run a couple of times a week, hit the weights a couple times a week and kickbox the others. If I’m feeling really run down or weak, I’ll still go but won’t push myself.

Citlalli Rico – Website | Instagram

I had to change my diet drastically 4 years ago and started working with my beloved nutritionist who gave me an awesome recipe for a “day after wedding” smoothie. It works like magic:

2 cups of spinach 1 or 2 bananas 1 teaspoon of peanut butter 1 tablespoon of ground flaxseed 1 tablespoon of vegetarian protein powder

It helps your body and your brain after a long day of intense thinking and moving.

Vanessa Joy – Website | Instagram

I do yoga! Yoga specificities for Photographers actually. It targets exactly where my problem areas are and strengths and stretches them. There are tons you can do by my fav is the Post Wedding Hangover that you can find right here!

  Amii & Andy Kauth – Website | Instagram

Besides chasing 5 children around every day? We have a well-equipped garage gym (used to do CrossFit back in the day), train jiu-jitsu, and eat clean (mostly). We’re also getting back into snowboarding this winter + surfing in 2019! We’re in our upper 30s (Amii)/low 40s (Andy), and we think we’re 20 … probably act like it too (more often than not). We attribute it all to: regular exercise, eating well, and having positive attitudes.

Megan Allen – Website | Instagram

As a wedding photographer, I used to have the most brutal, hit-by-a-mack-truck wedding hangovers the day after a wedding. I was sore, emotionally tapped out, and it really took a full 24 hours for me to feel back to “normal” after a wedding day. Coming from being a collegiate athlete to having my butt kicked by a single day event was a wakeup call for me for my overall health, not just on the wedding days, but every day. I found myself getting winded on adventure shoots with my couples, and I realized, if I want them to climb a mountain with me, I have to be able to physically climb the mountain myself, and not be a health risk in the process! After a year of struggling, I really examined myself, my goals personally and for my business, and hired a personal trainer. He got me on the right track in both the gym and nutrition (spoiler alert: when you’re 30+, you can’t eat the cookie dough at midnight like you did when you were 20 and running 3+ miles a day for basketball), and I began to feel completely different, both on wedding days and every day. I now work out with weights 4-5x a week, focusing on a different area each day, as well as a few days of cardio, be it stairs, the treadmill, or a bike. Nutritionally, I watch my macro intake, choosing to go for a high protein diet that allows me to fuel my days in a solid manner, and not just go for that 5th cup of coffee to spur the next 3 hours. I’ve felt a huge shift in my ability to move and stay engaged on a wedding day, and I also don’t feel the wedding hangover blues nearly as much — it has to be one heck of a wedding for me to be sore the day after now!

Shivani Reddy – Website | Instagram

As photographers, we are on our feet anywhere from 10-20 hours. This has horrible consequences for our several parts of our body and requires some TLC to alleviate the pain. After you’ve come back home and showered, (hopefully that is part of your post-shooting routine), lie in bed on your back and elevate your legs so the blood rushes down. Flex and point your toes to roll your feet in clockwise & counter-clockwise movements. Then, flex and grab the arch of your foot and pull it down towards your chest. I learned this trick from years as a dancer, being on my feet and placing immense pressure on them for hours on end. Stretching all over is always a good idea (yoga is golden for post-shooting days!), especially if you are carrying a lot of weight on your shoulders and back!

Sean LeBlanc – Website | Instagram

To stay fit throughout the year, I play ice hockey twice a week. I grew up playing hockey (almost made it to minor pro) and have a love for the game. Hockey provides a great cardio workout and really helps clear your mind while having a lot of fun with good friends and colleagues. My wife and I both run our businesses from home and have two young busy boys so we get up early to get our workouts and hockey games into our schedule. My wife will stay home with the boys while I head to the hockey rink for a 6:45AM game and vice versa (except my wife hits the gym). Then when I get home I feel energized and ready to tackle the day.

Pye Jirsa – Website | Instagram

Wedding and production days are one-part creative, and one-part construction worker. They are grueling days that would leave me with back injuries, shoulder pain, and aching knees. Interestingly, it all went away with strength training. In 2014 I decided to make a lifestyle change by eating clean and regularly doing HIIT. Within months, the back injuries vanished, I felt light on my feet, and I could lift significantly more weight without tiring. The day after, or even night after production, I could still go running for miles. Today, here’s what my regiment looks like:

1. Sunday Meal Prep (low-fat/low-carb) 2. Mon (Chest/Back), Tues (Legs), Wed (Shoulders/Arms), Thurs (Core) 3. Yoga 1-2x per week for flexibility/recovery

Eric Talerico – Website | Instagram

This year I will be 40 and I’ve never felt better in my life. Training Brazilian Jiu Jitsu for the past 7 years has taught me a lot about myself and my health. I know how far I can push my body before it breaks, literally, and how to prepare for extremely physical days that are required of a wedding photographer. Through much trial and error, I’ve learned that good health is a lifestyle, not a quick fix, and I feel best when adhering to a few basic principles. The first, and most important, is getting enough rest. I shoot for 8 hours every night, especially the days before weddings. I discovered that I am much more creative when well rested, which is important when you are a creative professional. Second is a healthy diet. Over the years I cut out processed foods, preservatives, vegetable oils, refined sugars and refined carbs from my diet. I also eat organic and natural if that option is available and only drink water and coffee. It’s not easy, and I’m not going lie, I have my cheat days, but following this routine on a consistent basis has worked wonders for my overall health. I also do intermittent fasting which helps with those long weddings days when you don’t have an opportunity to eat. The last is engaging in physical activity. It’s not so much the type of activity that is important but rather finding something that you are passionate about. If you are passionate about a physical activity the health benefits will be the easy part. I find that maintaining these 3 principles help keep me in tip-top shape, especially for those long wedding days.

What are some of your favorite tips & tricks for battling post-shoot days? 

from SLR Lounge https://www.slrlounge.com/fitness-for-photographers/ via IFTTT