@voxactivewear loving my baby brands pieces sm i had to train in leggings in 30 degrees #thegirlsthatgetit 😗🎀🎧⭐️💅🏼 (( speaking of business owning -> swipe to the end for reality ))
There’s something magical about mornings here. The kind of magic that hums softly in the breeze, brushes lightly across sun-kissed skin, and whispers, this is the life. Every day starts the same way, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My routine has become my sanctuary — a rhythm that flows like the ocean tides. It begins with the gym, a coconut, a smoothie, and ends with golden sand between my toes and the satisfaction of a day well-lived.
The gym opens just before sunrise. It’s a small, open-air setup with big windows that let the morning light spill in. There’s no rush, no noise, just a quiet energy as a few familiar faces gather — locals, expats, early birds. It smells faintly of eucalyptus and sea salt. I roll out my mat, take a deep breath, and feel my body come alive. The music is soft but upbeat, a lo-fi beat or an acoustic cover, just enough to get the heart going.
Weights clink. A rope hits the mat. Someone chuckles. There’s a sense of camaraderie here — not in loud cheers or competition, but in knowing nods and shared sweat. It’s about movement, presence, and strength. The sun begins to rise as I finish my last set. Warm golden light pours through the windows and catches the glint of sweat on my skin. I’m tired, but in the best way. My body thanks me. My mind is clear.
As I step outside, the air is still cool but soft. The coconut guy is already set up across the road with his little wooden cart and machete in hand. He’s always smiling, and without a word, he passes me my usual — one fresh, cold coconut. I crack it open and sip slowly, savoring the natural sweetness and the simple pleasure of hydrating with nature’s best drink. It’s better than coffee. Better than anything, really. The best kind of refreshment after a good workout.
Just down the path, there’s a smoothie shack with a thatched roof and surfboards leaning against the wall. The owner, Maya, always has a new special. Today it’s mango, passionfruit, and mint — bright, tangy, and icy cold. I sit on the little bamboo bench outside, coconut in one hand, smoothie in the other, watching the town wake up. Scooters hum in the distance, and someone strums a guitar on a balcony nearby. This is the in-between — the transition from movement to stillness, from effort to ease.
After finishing my smoothie, I slip into a light dress and walk to the beach. It’s only a few minutes away, and the salty air grows stronger with each step. The sand is still cool underfoot, untouched by the heat of the day. I lay down my towel and stretch out, letting the sound of waves lull me into a moment of stillness. The ocean sparkles like a thousand tiny mirrors, and the beach is still mostly empty, save for a few surfers and beachcombers.
I take a dip — the water is perfect. Refreshing but not cold. Inviting. Weightless. For a moment, I forget everything else. Floating in the sea feels like pressing pause on life. No deadlines, no rush, just the rhythm of the waves and the wide open sky.
But soon enough, it’s time to shift gears. I towel off, brush the sand from my skin, and head back to my little studio where work waits. It’s a cozy space — just a desk by the window, a few plants, and a shelf full of books and seashells. My job is remote, mostly writing and design work, and I’ve learned to flow with it. The focus comes easier after the gym, the coconut, the smoothie, the beach. I settle in with a fresh cup of tea and get to work.
Some days are more intense than others. Deadlines, revisions, long calls. But the rhythm stays steady. I take breaks to stretch, listen to the breeze, or glance out at the palm trees swaying lazily. The background noise here isn’t traffic or sirens — it’s birds, waves, and laughter from the café next door.
By late afternoon, I feel that peaceful kind of fatigue again — not burnout, but fullness. Like a day lived well. I’ll usually take another walk to the beach, this time just to watch the sun dip below the horizon. The sky turns wild with color — pinks, purples, and fiery oranges that make you stop and stare. Locals gather. Kids play in the sand. Someone starts drumming in the distance. It’s not a performance, just part of the scene.
Evenings are quiet. I cook something simple, or meet a friend for dinner at a beachside shack where the food is fresh and the vibe is always easy. Then it’s home, maybe a book or a journal entry before sleep. The fan hums overhead. My body is sore in a good way, and I drift off easily, already looking forward to tomorrow.
Because tomorrow means another chance to do it all again.
The gym.
A coconut.
A smoothie.
The beach.
Work.
Routine.
🌺🏋🏻♀️
