My partners and I are super excited and deeply humbled that our studio, Carrboro and Durham Yoga, has been voted Best of the Triangle in the Indy Weekly. Thanks to those of you who voted; those of you who come in, connect, and align with us; and those of you who make virtual trips to the studio by practicing at home with YogaVibes.
Olynda Smith, Sage, and Lies Sapp
In late May, I’ll be visiting western Canada to present free clinics on yoga for runners at MEC stores (thanks, prAna, for sponsoring!). The dates are set; times will be posted soon:
MEC Vancouver, Sunday, May 26
MEC Calgary, Monday, May 27
MEC Edmonton, Wednesday, May 29
I hope to meet you there!
Now that I’m home from the Umstead Trail Marathon and considerably cleaner than when I walked in, I want to jot down a few of the joys of the day. This may not be coherent; while I feel fine, my brain is a little fuzzy, and I had trouble figuring out how to exit the park.
Many of the joys were expected: connecting with old friends and making new ones; enjoying a beautiful day in a beautiful place; running a negative split; even making the best-case time I’d set for myself. But the unexpected ones were even greater. Here are a few, in ascending level of unexpectedness.
Falling in mile 22—not just a stumble, but an all-out splay downhill on the Cedar Ridge Trail. I hit so hard that the head of one of the safety pins holding my number to my shirt broke clear off, and I had to rearrange them as I collected myself. I hit so hard that I skinned my chin and thought for a moment I had broken my nose. (I’ll spare you that photo, but this is my shirt.) I hit so hard that I was tasting dirt for the rest of the run. And I hit so hard that I had a surge of adrenalin that carried me all the way through the finish. I often spend runs in fear of falling, but it’s not so bad when it happens. I’m grateful for the reminder.
Just before the start, after hearing my name, two women across the table from me introduced themselves. Here they are: Molly and Vanessa, who came from New England to run this race. As Molly explained, they used my marathon training plan to get ready. (You can find it at Athleta and at TrainingPeaks.) While it was serendipitous to meet them—what if they’d been at the next table over?—I also had the joy of running with them for a few miles, hearing why they’d chosen this race as their first marathon, and how their visit was going. I got to see them numerous times along the out-and-back spurs in the race, and I got a short video of them crossing the finish line together. It was an incredible feeling—not quite like being a proud parent, as we’d only just met, but maybe like being a proud sperm or egg donor, or seeing someone weep while reading your novel on a plane. What a joy to see that the training had them ready and smiling as they crossed the finish line. Thank you, Molly and Vanessa, for making my day.On my way home from teaching in Durham today, I heard Bobby Bare’s song “The Winner” (with lyrics by Shel Silverstein) on the radio. My dad used to delight my brother and me with this song (and his fantastic “Food Blues,” which has never sounded more relevant and has a killer punchline). It’s a great parable, and it struck me as a good lesson for yoga asana practitioners, as well as overenthusiastic endurance sports junkies who try to do too much, too soon. The voice of experience speaks with wisdom: overreach and you’ll have the scars to pay. It’s not always about how things look on the outside, and if you have something to prove with your efforts, you’re that much more likely to get pounded.
The hulk of a man with a beer in his hand he looked like a drunk old fool
And I knew if I hit him right, why, I could knock him off of that stool
But everybody they said “Watch out, hey that’s Tiger Man McCool
He’s had a whole lotta fights and he’s always come out winner. Yeah, he’s a winner.”
But I had myself about five too many and I walked up tall and proud
I faced his back and I faced the fact that he had never stooped or bowed
I said, “Tiger Man, you’re a pussycat!” and a hush fell on the crowd
I said, “Let’s you and me go outside and see who’s the winner.”
Well, he gripped the bar with one big hairy hand and he braced against the wall
He slowly looked up from his beer and my God, that man was tall
He said, “Boy, I see you’re a scrapper, so just before you fall
I’m gonna tell you just a little bout what it means to be a winner.”
He said, “Now you see these bright white smilin’ teeth? You know they ain’t my own
Mine rolled away like Chicklets down the street in San Antone
But I left that person cursin’ nursin’ seven broken bones
And he only broke, ah, three of mine. That makes me the winner.”
He said, “Now, behind this grin I got a steel pin that holds my jaw in place
A trophy of my most successful motorcycle race
And each morning when I wake and touch this scar across my face
It reminds me of all I got by bein’ a winner
“Now this broken back was the dyin’ act of a handsome Harry Clay
That sticky Cincinnati night I stole his wife away
But that woman she gets uglier and she gets meaner every day
But I got her, boy, and that’s what makes me a winner.”
He said, “You gotta speak loud when you challenge me, son, cause it’s hard for me to hear
With this twisted neck and these migraine pains and this big ol’ cauliflower ear
And if it wasn’t for this glass eye of mine, why, I’d shed a happy tear
To think of all that you gonna get by bein’ a winner.
“I got arthritic elbows, boy, I got dislocated knees
From pickin’ fights with thunderstorms and chargin’ into trees
And my nose been broke so often I might lose it if I sneeze
And, son, you say you still wanna be a winner
“Now you remind me a lot of my younger days with your knuckles clenchin’ white
But, boy, I’m gonna sit right here and sip this beer all night
And if there’s somethin’ that you gotta gain to prove by winnin’ some silly fight
Well, OK, I quit, I lose, you’re the winner.”
So I stumbled from that barroom not so tall and not so proud
And behind me I still hear the hoots of laughter of the crowd
But my eyes still see and my nose still works and my teeth are still in my mouth
And, you know, I guess that makes me the winner.
Here’s more than you might have ever wanted to know about my books and DVD, footage from my online course on teaching yoga to athletes.
Some lightly-used railroad tracks bisect the forest where I run. On rare occasion, my run is delayed by a passing train; it’s always a little thrilling to watch it rumble by as I catch my breath. Yesterday, two friends and I approached the tracks as a train was coming. We were intrigued to see what it was doing: hatches on a number of cars were open, pouring thick gravel onto the banks of the tracks.
That’s a beautiful metaphor for what we were doing in the woods: laying down some miles to make the container for our upcoming training cycle. Once the banks are set, we can stay on track with purpose. More broadly, the freight cars’ job was an image of self-care. Have you taken the time lately to refresh your edges?
The New York Times describes the resolution to the ongoing story of my uncle Richard Hamilton’s contribution to the solving of the Poincaré conjecture and the interesting personalities involved. I’ve written about it here, years ago.
The idea of Perelman declining because he didn’t deserve full credit is just fantastic. What a renegade! At what point does standing on principle make you an eccentric?
My parents enjoy a month in France each summer. Now that wifi is largely available, we get periodic updates from them, and photos that my mother has taken. Very twenty-first century. Today’s e-mail, however, suggests that they are in a place beyond time.
My maternal grandfather—who reportedly also worked as a driver for General Eisenhower—was stationed on a British fishing vessel on D-Day, and he had to commandeer the boat after its captain, trying to cope with his nerves before sunrise, drank too much.
It’s National Walk to School Day, which we celebrated in the same way we do every other weekday: walking to school. It’s one of the many upsides of living in a mixed-use community (downsides include tiny yards). Yesterday, for example, I took the girls to school, went to work, taught two classes, went to the grocery (well, actually, I didn’t, but I could have), picked the girls up, dropped them off at a play date, and retrieved them from the play date. And I did it all on foot.