Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for the ‘exercise’ Category


The condo is in disarray, the van is partially packed and in a couple days we’ll be waving goodbye to our favorite city on the east coast. Summer in Boston has been both energizing and over-stimulating, an odd combination of paradoxical states to exist in one body. But for me, both are very real.

harvard-square-coverWalking around MIT and visiting their museums, hibernating in the Harvard Coop and shopping the Square, walking on the Esplanade while Bella swims in the river and chases squirrels, attending concerts and shows by world class performers – and being able to go everywhere on public transportation – all very energizing experiences. MITThere’s an intellectual aliveness in this city, the home of a couple hundred colleges and universities – including ivy leaguers. And athleticism is everywhere and represented by all age groups. It’s flat out invigorating to be in a city where intellect and fitness interact so organically.

New England is a diverse vacation spot too. 90 minutes from Boston you can be on Cape Cod and an hour’s ferry takes you to Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket. Then, of course, rural Maine is right up the road and pastoral Vermont is just a couple hour’s drive. GingerbreadHousesNew Hampshire, close by too. I had the opportunity to spend a week on the Cape and take a short trip to a friend’s sheep farm in Vermont that offered million dollar views of rolling hills for miles in all directions. VermontI love this part of the country for all those reasons.

I’m also exhausted from the experience. City life is loud, busy, fast and relentless. We were staying at the intersection of two very busy throughways in town, and in front of a bustling expressway. Those are also reasons why it’s so easy to get around town. But the non-stop cacophony of traffic, horns, sirens is trying on the nerves and my patience level was tested to the max each day by cyclists who think they’re above traffic laws and buses speeding past cars and just assuming the lanes belong to them. BostonTrafficStraying from a walking path by a foot or so might cause a rear end collision from a roller skater, runner and cyclist in a real hurry to go somewhere but who doesn’t think it’s necessary to alert anyone he’s about to whiz past. And this was during the “off” summer season. Imagine the craziness when kids come back to school, soon.

Once upon a time, this lifestyle was my lifestyle and Boston was home for a few years. It felt perfectly normal then to be part of the hustle bustle of this busy town. But somehow, as my system has adapted to warmer seasons, so too has my need for peace and quietude. Since living in a heavily wooded community in a much smaller southern city – or as I call it, a town – I seem to thrive on living life more slowly. I’m happier, more content and, frankly, feel more at home. So while Boston offered a really fun summer, it’s time now to come home and resume a life that’s a bit more ratcheted down.

HouseSpring

Maybe age has something to do with it, though many active folks my age in Boston thrive on the go, go, go. I think my go, go, go years are behind me. After a very fortunate, fulfilling and successful career, I’ve retired. And now it feels time to live life a little smaller. A bit more pensively, experiencing adventure in a slower, richer way.

So – bye bye Boston, for now, anyway. My husband keeps devising ways to spend more summers here – maybe we will, maybe we won’t. But I do know that living here for good is likely not in my cards. And I love this city. That would be my paradox

Advertisements

Read Full Post »


Our campground here in Stone Mountain was surprisingly empty for our final two days in Mr. Bus.  It’s divided into pods of sites and we were the only rig in our pod of maybe 20 sites.  We’re nestled in the woods of hilly Georgia, east of Atlanta and it feels good to be among the pine and hardwood trees again.  I’ve always loved the moodiness of the forest.  As much as I adore the ocean and its vast power, the woods and all its creatures are where I prefer living

Hiking here is good.  The Cherokee Trail traverses five miles around the bottom of Stone Mountain, an unusually barren dome of granite jutting up out of the trees toward the sky.  It reminds me of the Spielberg film, “Close Encounters,” primed for a giant UFO to land at the top.

I hadn’t realized how much I needed those solitary walks along the trails.  My initial intent was to ride my bike along that trail until I discovered I’d need a mountain bike and some really strong thighs for that plan.  So off on foot I went, rather slowly since sleep had evaded me for most of the night before.  The walk may have taken me longer but because of my pace all kinds of detail was exposed that normally goes unnoticed.  Sounds, tiny flowers and critters on land and water  went about their daily lives oblivious to my intrusion in their world.  I needed the solitude after weeks of going and going and going.

Jutting into the lake were a few dead trees in various stages of decay  that offered the perfect platform for eight water turtles to perch in the sun.  Toward the base of the trees, still on land, were the beginnings of mushrooms or some other sort of fungus marking a stage of metamorphosis into soil.  That process takes 10 years from tree to dirt.  Incredible isn’t it?  Poised on a nearby branch was a vivid red cardinal whose crest was taut and proud for reasons I don’t know.  But he was a beauty with his matching red beak.

chipmunk on log upper right

fungus on dead tree

I found myself relaxing into the mood of the land, soothing a sense of impatience I’d been feeling in the bustling, endlessly bright atmosphere of Florida tourist destinations – away from my dog and his endless scratching to relieve his incessant itching no matter how many possible solutions we offer to soothe his allergy ridden skin.  His discomfort has frayed my nerves and has been keeping me awake at night.  This walk in the woods has quieted my irritation and helpless feelings.  And it’s reminding me how infrequently I’ve been meditating and practicing yoga poses, both crucial activities for my peace of mind as almost daily rituals at home.  On the road I haven’t made time to include them with regularity.  The quiet of the woods is calling attention to that.

Crystal clear mountain water. Those rocks are underwater.

It was Rick’s idea to push our typical three-hour drive to closer to five so we could get to this public park and stay put for a couple of days, recharging our batteries before heading home to undertake the mundane chores of settling in again.  And I’m glad for that.  It’s being the ideal transition between the two worlds.

Tomorrow morning we leave for home and three hours later we’ll arrive.  I’ll start Pogo’s daily regimen of antihistamine and local honey, a winning combination last year.  Wish me luck.

See you at home …

Read Full Post »


A beautiful quote that captures the essence of Iyengar Yoga by its mastermind BKS Iyengar.  All yoga is rooted in the blend of mind, spirit and body.  But this particular style emphasizes correct physical alignment while contorting the body into prescribed poses.  It aims to use the concentration necessary for correct posture as a tool in teaching meditation.  In order to bend and stretch as required, each pose is deconstructed into its minutiae parts forcing concentration on all nuances of muscle and bone configuration.  And that trains the mind to focus.

Petra's Yoga Poses around the world

Image via Wikipedia

I’ve been practicing Iyengar style yoga for 14 years and it’s made a significant difference in my flexibility and attitude toward life.  (Though this gorgeous pose is, sadly, not me.)  It has also enhanced my meditation practice by quieting the mind and tiring out the body, readying it for silent focus on the breath.  And, in all those years, I’ve had just one injury to a shoulder because I rotated my arm farther than my body was ready for.

Recently I’ve branched out to experience other teachers and styles of yoga, maybe because my attitude is one of experimentation these days.  I’ve enjoyed the change and the atmosphere in the different studios, but I’m grateful for my Iyengar training because without it, I wouldn’t know how to properly practice the pose.  And neither do the other students, evidently, as I scan the room and notice poor body alignment.  The teacher may demonstrate the pose correctly, but none explains the process to the students.

A yoga class.

Image via Wikipedia

Knees and thighs are not charged, leg rotations are not accurate, spines are not straight, ham strings aren’t being stretched – the list goes on.  And the teacher says nothing, does not walk the room and adjust the poses.  All students are being left to interpret the instruction on our own.  I’m waiting for injuries to occur all around me.  It surprises me how teachers can teach without teaching.  They demonstrate, they talk the pose through – but none has ever explained flexion of muscle, rotation of limbs, proper knee placement and more.

My suggestion for all yoga enthusiasts is to start with a few series of classes to learn the Iyengar method in order to know how the poses are supposed to be aligned before launching into any other style yoga.  Injured necks, backs, limbs and more are painful, in some cases, long term problems that can be prevented with the appropriate instruction.

What are your yoga experiences?  And how have they affected your life?

Read Full Post »


just relax. take it all in. and live life unti...

Image by Casey David via Flick

“just relax. take it all in. and live life until you burst at the seams.”  Casey Taylor

Life’s perspective changes on a bicycle, especially after age 50 as I rediscover the joys of pedaling. It used to be my transportation as a kid, a way to  see girlfriends who lived near by, or to the dreaded piano lessons (after a quick stop at the grocery to snatch the Tastykake 3 pack of chocolate cupcakes.  They were my favorite and eased the pain of an hour of scales at Mrs. Heston’s house).  I also rode my bike to the community pool down the street to see if the cute boy I adored was there that day.

A typical Mobil gas station. This one is locat...

Image via Wikipedia

But all that seemed to stop when I got my license because then I could drive to all those places (except the pool, now the cute boy I adored worked at the gas station a couple miles away).

These days I experience freedom on my bike and I feel youthful and vibrant. The rides are no longer destination oriented, they’re experiential and offer a slice of life in the slower lane.  There’s plenty to see by moving more slowly; just like the freedom of the road offered by RV travel (which we also do) pedaling along greenways and through parks is like entering a world on the other side of a key hole.  Just step through the door, out of the to-do list mode and into the to-be-here mode instead.

There are wildflowers growing, creatures scurrying and children playing, each to their individual rhythms.

It’s a world that exists whether I ride by or not. And that’s what’s so magical about discovering it by bike.  Pedaling through the keyhole and landing here makes me realize there are hosts of other worlds just waiting to be explored. They’re invisible to cars and to planes.  But when life slows down they pop into view.

I started riding a bike, regularly, a little more than a year ago when I borrowed my sister-in-law’s up in Boston last summer.  It’s the perfect town; all thruways accommodate cyclists.  There are bike lanes on all the roads and a pathway that stretches along the Charles River on both the Boston and Cambridge sides. Because the area is flat just about everywhere, it’s a rider’s paradise.  Taking my bike out was as easy as going out the back door and down the Mass Ave bridge ramp onto the esplanade.  I was hooked.

A summer day on the Charles River Esplanade, B...

Image via Wikipedia

In Tennessee I hook the bike to the back of my car and then take off to a number of greenways nearby.  And those I discovered because I had to find places to ride, away from the roads and steep hills in my neighborhood.  It offers a wonderful form of exercise and opportunities to be with friends.  Knoxville looks like a completely different city from the seat of a bicycle.

But the best part of all?

All of it.  Riding my bike makes me happy.  Seeing people and creatures live life reminds me what living is all about.  That we all have a finite number of years in this human form, and  one shot at it.  I don’t want to “wish I had.”  I want to do.

Read Full Post »

%d bloggers like this: