Source: Aparna Nancherla (via Paper Ghosts)
Forget Calories. Go for Awe.
May 9, 2017 by 37 Comments
Excerpts from Julia Baird’s Forget Calories. Exercise for Awe. (May 6, 2017, NY Times):
If you joined the hundreds of people in my swim squad, you might think at first that the routine was simply about getting a solid bout of exercise before the day begins…The caps we wear are bright pink. The name we call ourselves, the Bold and Beautiful, is also quite daft, but it’s a reminder that the squad was formed several years ago by middle-aged women who were too nervous to swim the distance alone. This morning swim was never about skill, but about pluck.
Most days, at some spot along the mile-long route, heads will cluster, arms pointing down under the water at enormous blue groupers, white dolphins, color-changing cuttlefish, wobbegongs (bearded sharks), and even tiny turtles and sea horses. One summer, a white dolphin frequently appeared. At this time every year, gangs of young dusky whaler sharks swarm the bay, several feet beneath us, migrating only after they have already become large enough to make people nervous. There’s a reason a collective term for sharks is a shiver.
It’s not always sheer delight. Sometimes we emerge with red welts from stingers (usually jellyfish) across faces and limbs, and have to battle thickets of seaweed, powerful currents and crashing waves. But the daily difference in conditions is part of what makes it thrilling. One day, a whale glided into the bay and played with the swimmers for an hour — though I refuse to talk about it because I wasn’t there…My atheist friends who were there described it as like a prayer or quasi-religious experience; their faces turned solemn at the recollection… [Read more…]
Walking Cross-Town. Without lungs.
January 20, 2017 by 24 Comments
4:52 am.
January 19th.
35° F, clear, calm.
Rested.
Body parts functioning, check.
Smartphone in breast pocket, check.
ID building pass, check.
Nine minutes to first morning train, check.
I step out the door, insert key, turn, and lock the door. There’s a clop clop clop of footsteps on the street. I turn to see Runner. Male, wearing a Miner’s headlamp, his beam illuminating the road.
2003. That’s you. Up, pre dawn: 5 miles Tuesday. 7 miles Wednesday. 4 miles Friday. Hot shower. Off to work. [Read more…]
Inside my fires are freezing, my heart is pumping spurts of ice
December 10, 2016 by 18 Comments
A winter swimmer swims after breaking the ice on a frozen lake at a park in Shenyang, China. (wsj.com: Sheng Li, Reuters). Post title by Hélène Cixous, from Inside.
Walking: Just to be, and soak it in, rather than conquer it and tick a box
December 3, 2016 by 19 Comments
FOLLOWING I don’t follow anything or anybody online; neither am I subscribed to any online magazines. I think I’m just too old and set in my ways for Twitter, etc. I still care about manners, spelling and punctuation, for Christ’s sake. Watching my kids and their intense relationship with the online world, I can see that it’s just a totally different mind-set; a different way of being even.
WALKING. These days my favorite pastime is to just go for a walk and if it’s out in the wilds, then all the better. Recent trips have included the Isle of Skye, the North Cornish coast and the Lake District, all of which were spectacular. It’s about taking your time to traverse rather than just climb a mountain and come back down again. Sometimes you climb up a mountain and find a tiny little lake, a weird little ecosystem with its dragonflies buzzing around. You just spend some time in this strange, magical spot. Just to be, and soak it in, rather than conquer it and tick a box. That’s my approach.
~ David Gray, from “Download by Kate Murphy” (New York Times Nov 26, 2016)
Notes:
- Photo: Digitaltrends
- If you’ve never heard of David Gray (what planet have you been residing on), check out his classic hit: Babylon
little tummy roll that has helpfully crept over the bottom of the iPad, so that it might help you type?
November 26, 2016 by 23 Comments
Anne Lamott, from a Facebook post on November 25, 2012:
Quickly, and probably with lots of typos: I am beginning to think that this body of mine is the one I will have the entire time I am on this side of eternity.
I didn’t agree to this. I have tried for approximately fifty years to get it to be an ever so slightly different body: maybe the tiniest bit more like Cindy Crawford’s, and–if this is not too much to ask–Michelle Obama’s arms. I mean, is this so much to ask? But I had to ask myself, while eating my second piece of key lime pie in Miami last Sunday, and then again, while sampling my second piece of Crete brûlée in Akron, if this is going to happen.
For the record, I do not usually eat like I do in hotels while I am on book tour. But I have a terrble sweet tooth and I am just not going to be spending much more of this and precious life at the gym, than I already do, which is at best, three times a week, in a terrible shirking bad attitude bitter frame of mind. I go for three one-hour hikes a week. I’m not a Lunges kind of girl.
And even if I were, I’m shrinking. I’m not quite Dr. Ruth yet, but I used to be 5’7, and now am–well, not.
But the psalmist says I am wonderfully and fearfully made. Now, upon hearing that, two days after Thanksgiving, don’t you automatically think that “fearfully” refers to your thighs, your upper arms, the little tummy roll that has helpfully crept over the bottom of the iPad, so that it might help you type? [Read more…]
Running. With 0.5 Wolfpack.
November 19, 2016 by 58 Comments
Kids: “Dad, People just don’t do that. It’s weird.”
Dad: “Listen, I’m not People.”
Kids: Eyes roll. Whispering to each other, don’t we know that.
My text message is sent to the neighbors the night before.
“…Will Anya be free to come out to play in the morning?”
Text message comes zipping back.
“…Of course. We’ll leave the door unlocked, and the leash by the door.”
This has become a weekend routine.
She now knows what’s coming when the leash is by the door. She hears the car pull up, its daybreak. I walk up to the door, there’s a soft “woof” – she’s been waiting. I can hear the pitter patter of her paws on the wood floor. I open the door and she bounds out, ready to join her new BFF.
When you lose your dog, when the wounds are still fresh, and you haven’t / can’t replace your dog, what do you do? You borrow the neighbor’s Dog, of course. It’s not weird, it’s a bloody necessity. 0.5 Wolfpack is better than no Wolfpack at all. [Read more…]
Running. With Lessons for Rachel.
November 2, 2016 by 53 Comments
She started it.
With the taunts. The insults: “Jelly Belly.” “Man Boobs.” “Sad.”
This being Daddy’s Girl.
Daddy’s Creation. I built THAT.
She’s 2x younger. Or better stated, Dad’s 2x older.
And, then, she threw out the bait.
Dad: “Let’s compare daily step counts. Download this App. Maybe we can get that (pointing to the belly) in better shape.”
So, it has become a Father-Daughter ritual.
Each night, before bedtime, we check our step counts via a text share.
Week 1 was a partial week and a ramp up week – – and her gloating.
Week 2 is the first full week and both sides are in full stride.
She shares her report tonight. Her steps are shown above – along with her step count each day for the last 7 days.
My response: “Not bad Honey. 🙂”
I then reciprocate and send her my daily report. (Below) [Read more…]
Truth
August 22, 2016 by 17 Comments
Walking Cross-Town. With Al.
July 2, 2016 by 25 Comments
Jorie Graham: “The slow overture of rain, each drop breaking without breaking into the next, describes the unrelenting, syncopated mind.” (from “Mind,” Hybrids of Plants and of Ghosts.)
6:30 am.
The train pulls into Grand Central, and clears. I sit. And wait.
The conductor walks up the aisle gathering tickets.
I cue up a Paul Simon playlist and walk.
The platform is empty. Stragglers amble toward the exits.
I nod to the armed guard, and slip through the open door onto 42nd, passing a conga line of yellow cabs. Not today gentlemen, not today. We’re walking Cross-Town.
Good morning America.
Dawn in Manhattan.
Sun Power lights up the skyscrapers, they lean in from the shadows to warm.
A wisp of a breeze cools, a welcome cut of the ever-present humidity, and a respite from the simmering trash and the marinating urine.
The electronic horse walks.
There’s a skip in the step this morning, loaded with a full night’s sleep, and boosted by Sun’s Solar Power. Beast and Beast. One up Top. One on the ground. Duo is Un-freak-ing-stoppable. [Read more…]
