I’ve been reflecting alot about my third mega-mileage year in a row, since I’m seeming to continue a daily amount of bicycling and walking. 5,143 Miles in 2018: 4,554 Biking + 589 Walking. Pretty, Pretty, Pretty Good for A Dude! I haven’t added or subtracted any New Year’s Resolutions, so I’m wondering if it’s still healthy for me. Especially since I’m generally sleep-deprived and tired if not downright exhausted. Also having a regular if not daily or more encounter with chocolately goodness going into my grocery hole. Then I saw a National Geographic article about addiction and this post about exercise addiction from follower A Better Man 21. It’s as good a topic as any so I’m going to address it, hopefully briefly.
Sometimes it happens that people do mean things. At a new temporary work gig, I met the new boss (same as the old boss). He had a hissy fit about something where he assumed one thing but reality was another, and then stormed off. Not my prob, so whatevs. Merry Fucking Christmas to you, too, Scrooge!
After a quick change of clothes (and attitude) at home, I was about 1/3 of the way into my bike ride when Sophie’s rear wheel punctured from a tiny piece of glass in the road somewhere. Probably from somebody who threw a beer bottle into the bike lane. It had worked it’s way deep into the rubber. Boo hoo for me! Just bad luck, or karma? Continue reading
It’s been eight days since I’ve ridden a bicycle. Why? Heat. Illness. Lastimas. Life. (Lastimas is wounds or injuries in Spanish. So that spells H.I.L.L, doesn’t it? I meant to.) When thought of in this way, it’s another set of obstacles, another rise in the road to climb, something that tests you but also makes you stronger. Part of me is relieved, and lucky to have use of a car. Another part of me is pissed off that I’m losing whatever fitness and form I had. Another is panicking that I may not get it back, or get back to it, or even be able bike at all without more injury or at least pain. Breathing in deeply, I notice I am not riding my bicycle. Breathing out, I notice that I am writing a blog post about not riding my bicycle. Continue reading
The other day I had a rare headache, and someone near me said, “Why not try some alternate nostril breathing?” I did, and it helped. Then the little voice in my head kicked in, and I started kicking myself. “Why didn’t you think of that before?” it mocked. “Why don’t you do more pranayam every day?” it jeered. And so on. If you’re at all like me, the inner critic is never far from bursting through the front door of our conscious mind and raining on our parade, to mix metaphors.
Have you ever noticed that we don’t have a name for the inner compassionate person? But we should. Our inner Dalai Lama, perhaps, or whatever spiritual teacher may appeal to you. But after my last post about yoga, I’ve been thinking about the other limbs and self-compassion is a big one. So here are some thoughts that might help you, whether it’s starting or maintaining a regular practice of writing, walking, yoga, cycling or whatever, just being better with your self, or maybe becoming the next President of the United States, a job which should be coming open pretty soon, from the looks of it. Continue reading