… 0r a walk, this applies to both. Continue reading
Full of enthusiasm from my first Yoga Project installment Friday, and with rain in the forecast, my plan was to attend another class over the weekend. But when I woke up on Saturday morning, all those down dogs were barking at me. Specifically in the shoulder region. I decided to clean the house and bake cookies instead. Sunday dawned cloudy but dry — twelve miles and two tired feet later, the couch looked really attractive. So it wasn’t until Monday that the Project could continue.
DAY 2: Monday, September 30, 4:00 pm
It’s raining lightly as I come into the studio and put my shoes into the cubby. I’ve rushed over here from across town, and I really have to go. The “washroom,” as they call it in Canada, is at the back (front) of the room, and I realize that this is a calmer area than the thoroughfare near the props where I have set up my stuff. Next time. Continue reading
“You should take R–‘s,” says the woman just ahead of me, when I ask at the neighborhood community center if they could recommend a yoga class. I’m hesitating between the three classes offered; they all promised to “accomodate” those with “limited mobility.” R–, it turns out, has had extensive training with the best of the best.
Despite the fact that the class is an hour and a half long, which summons painful memories of a brief and humiliating yoga experience in Baltimore, I decide to take the plunge. I set great store in word-of-mouth recommendations, particularly from elderly women with recent knee replacements. If she can recommend it, I should be okay. I sign up for a ten-class session. Continue reading
My last days living in Switzerland are looming. Two weeks and I’ll be back across the pond, the sun rising hours later on a completely different body of water. As the time draws nearer, I realize that:
One, I’m getting really impatient with things that drive me nuts about Switzerland.
Two, I’m already feeling nostalgic about the things that I love about Switzerland. Continue reading
It was a long, wet winter here in Heidiland. And is has been a cold, soggy, hypothermia-inducing spring. Down in the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland, Lago Maggiore is brimming over. Around here the farmers can’t plant their potato crops, because the fields are too muddy for their tractors to till. Continue reading
Last year’s 20km had people suffering from heat stroke. This year, it was hypothermia. Nothing like a little variety to keep those race organizers on their toes. Continue reading
It happened today. Out running along the lake in a cold drizzle, I felt it. The low pit of winter is past. We’re on the upslope to spring. There was a huge gaggle of cormorants (is gaggle the right term for cormorants?) on the fake island in Preverenges. They must be on their way to Scandinavia. They must be feeling it, too. (I took this picture the day before.)
I know it officially happened on December 21, when the balance of dark versus light hit bottom and the slow climb back into the sun began once again. But January is usually still too dark and cold and, well, winter for it to register. Today, however, despite the clouds and the rain, I finally feel like I’m climbing out of the hole. Continue reading
I was a little worried that after my last post, someone would stage an intervention. Take away all my running shoes, maybe, or set up a booby trap in front of the door so I would trip and sprain an ankle. Remember, way back this spring I asked you to remind me to be moderate when I started going off the deep end. Thanks for nothing, people!
As it happens, I intervened all by myself and took two consecutive days off. Then I went into a funk. And that has really slowed me down. Continue reading
Here I am again. I just got back from a run and I had to post something. It was transcendent. It’s probably just my endocannibinoids talking, but I feel like I’m entering a whole new plane of existence. Yeah, that does sound cannibis-like. Duuude.
This morning I was snooping around on iTunes looking for some new running tunes. None of the music that other runners were raving about on various blogs and magazine sites did anything for me; the songs were all too strident and fierce. Then I happened upon an album of new age-y, celtic inspired music by David and Diane Arkenstone, and when I checked it out with my BPM counter, all the tracks were right in the 90-95 bpm zone. Perfect for running! On impulse I splurged and bought the whole album for 12 francs. I downloaded it to my iPod and headed out the door. Continue reading
Just so you know I’m still alive … here are a few pictures from some trail runs we did in Cortina d’Ampezzo, in the Dolomites. Next year we might do the Cortina Trail 50km. (If it’s not raining.) Over the two days we were in Cortina we ran 42km of it, so we know what we’ll be getting ourselves in for. (Click on any of the pictures to see an enlarged version).