Try as I might, I couldn’t quite tie the preceding post into this video! Here is my take on downward-facing dog for runners. You do not need to get your heels down, now or ever, for this pose to work. In fact, you don’t even need to get your hands down; try taking the pose against a wall (or a boulder), which will be kinder to your hamstrings and will stretch your shoulders nicely.
I spent a half hour this morning changing the four toner cartridges in my color laser printer. The process required deciphering illustrations, some interpretation of verbal directions, physically reasoning out how things fit together, and not a small amount of patience. In other words, it was a lot like figuring out yoga or a sport: at first, hard to understand, but increasingly easier and easier to execute. I know the next time I do the task, it will be smoother still.
Yesterday, I had the pleasure of attending class at cambio., a donation-based studio in Colorado Springs. The class was billed as “Crosstraining Yoga,” appropriate for runners and cyclists, so I brought a copy of The Athlete’s Guide to Yoga, although I felt unsure whether that would be an appropriate donation in exchange for class. Was it too egocentric? Would cash be better?
Here’s a video that just went up on Competitor Running, part of a series I’m doing for the site. Check it out: Matt Fitzgerald, one of my favorite writers, is doing a great job loading the site with interesting information, and another of my favorite writers, Kristina Pinto, has moved her blog to the site. You’ll hear my take on breathing during running, and you’ll also hear my neighbor’s very loud standard poodle barking in the background. If you’ve wondered about the location of the rock I love so much, now you know: it’s directly across the street from my house.
Birds fly over the outdoor pool at sunset at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. You can see the athlete center behind the pool, and the Front Range behind them.
Later this week, I’ll head to one of my favorite places, Boulder, Colorado. It’s like Chapel Hill dehumidified, amplified, and slammed up against a beautiful mountain range. I’m looking forward to leading some of my book models and Twitter friends in my workshop on yoga for athletes at the Flatiron Athletic Club on Saturday, July 18, 2–5 p.m. If you live in Boulder, please consider joining us (and if you have friends there, send them my way). I think folks can be intimidated by the idea of a three-hour yoga workshop. No need. Only a small portion of the practice will take much energy, and even then, I’ll show modifications. You don’t need any previous yoga (or heck, even sport) experience. Just bring a yoga mat or a towel, and I’ll take care of the rest.
Wes and I stopped by a makeup counter at a department store in Charlotte over the weekend. The clerk was a wonderful man, very easy to talk to. After only five minutes, in talking about his job, he voiced an issue I consider often.
While my trip to Ironman Coeur d’Alene* has occupied most of my thoughts in the past week, another project that’s taken a lot of work has reached fruition: The Athlete’s Pocket Guide to Yoga has been released! We arrived home from Idaho late, late Tuesday night (actually, early Wednesday morning) to find my shipment of books.
I still remember how exciting it was to get my shipment of The Athlete’s Guide to Yoga. Working on this new book was like having my second child: I knew what to expect, it was less work to bear, and it brings pleasure equal to the first. It’s more colorful than the first book, a little smaller, and—unlike my second daughter, Vivian, who lives up to her lively name—it lies flat and still.I haven’t written much about my training for Ironman Coeur d’Alene here, in part because it went pretty much without incident. The whole experience was just . . . well, it was what it was. I did it, I thought it was a silly amount of training, I felt crummy for being too tired to do housework or think of a menu beyond pizza, I had a few really satisfying long rides and a number of fun races along the way—Valle Crucis, White Lake, and others—but in general it just was. I think the daily meditation practice I undertook throughout was much more powerful than I realized. Or, on the other hand, I may be in complete denial about what I’ve committed to (maybe that’s why I haven’t packed a stitch, even though the taxi is coming in 14 hours). I’ll have all day Sunday to ponder the enormity or triviality of the undertaking.
Training for what I continue to insist will be my one-and-only Ironman has been a matter of waiting for the shoe to drop. Even as I diligently put in the miles (very long, very slow), I’ve been expecting something catastrophic to derail my plans. To that end, I haven’t even bought our plane tickets yet. What’s come along so far hasn’t been hugely dramatic, but it’s taught me some lessons in dealing with what life presents me. First, I managed to roll my ankle for the umpteenth time ten minutes into a two-and-a-half-hour run—not even on trails, but on a curb!—but, as there’s really nothing left to sprain in there, it’s been manageable and is now mostly healed. The lesson there, learned once more, is to appreciate staying upright; it’s never a given.
How grateful I am for my husband, my access to health care, my tolerance for pain, my yoga practice. It is what it is, and it is good.