Bike Commuting: Day 1

I am so worried about our environment's imminent demise. Also, I'm getting out of shape since moving to Seattle. So I figured I would multi-task by biking home from work. Biking to work is more complicated since we do not have showers at the office, but it finally dawned on me that I (and my bike) could take the bus to work and then bike home. The ride from my office in downtown Bellevue is exactly 11 miles from my apartment in Capitol Hill. Over the last few weeks I've loaded up on gear to keep me safe and functional on the road. Piece of cake.

I rode about one block before realizing my front tire needed air. Luckily I had my new little Pocket Rocket to pump that baby back up, but there was a moment where I wasn't sure I knew how to use it and the stop for the trusty 550 bus was only a block away, ready to take me and my bike back to Seattle. I stared down temptation and soldiered on.

At some point the sidewalk on 112th Avenue became very rough and narrow, and traffic was still too heavy for me to consider riding on the road. I ventured into the neighborhood just west of 112th and, as I learned after 15 minutes of riding in circles, none of those roads go through. So back to 112th I went, and then things were mostly fine until I got to Mercer Island. I still don't really know what I did on Mercer Island, but I did make it to the other side of the island and across Lake Washington.

But then, oh my Lord, the hills! I hope I look back one day, when I'm super-fit and adept at cycling, at this first attempt at bike commuting and laugh at my initial weakness. Once I reached Seattle it was up, up, up. After reaching 20th Avenue I felt like I was going to vomit and had to walk my bike for two blocks. And then on 12th Avenue I again hopped off the bike for a little walking break.

And then I made it. I sailed down Pine Street for the last two blocks of my journey. I took Seven outside for a quick break and then attacked my kitchen looking for a snack. Not a lot of options. I ended up housing a half a bag of broccoli florets before I could get some real food. That broccoli never had a chance.

Including my time spent lost looking for the correct trail/road, I biked for one hour and 40 minutes.

Biking is hard. I hate it but I totally want to do it again. Maybe Friday.

A return to ferocity

After a decently long hiatus from my daily morning headstand practice, which probably started when I moved out of my apartment in Denver, I remembered this morning to start back up again. Remembering to do this first thing in the morning is the hardest part. I wake up most days in an utter fog and can hardly remember what my name is until about 8:00 a.m. when I start to become a human being.

I knelt down on the carpet near a wall, fearing I would be a little shaky after so many weeks without practice. I linked my fingers together, forearms flat on the floor in an open triangle. I slowly curled over and placed the very top of my head on the floor, against my interlaced hands. I straightened my legs...and then my body took over.

My feet walked toward my face as my hips moved back directly over my shoulders. Then my feet lifted off the ground and my legs bent them toward my seat. And then my legs straightened toward the ceiling, toes pointed, so that my body was one straight, stable, upside-down column of energy. It was my best headstand ever, and I could have stayed there all day.

I rolled my legs down and uncurled myself from the floor. I thought back to a conversation I had last night with a friend who was wavering about whether or not to attend a yoga class the next morning. Reciting a common tidbit of widsom, I had said "Your yoga practice includes rest." Many of us yogis do not really believe this and view it as a gentle excuse for skipping yoga. But only today, after a victorious return to daily headstand practice, am I a believer. 

Where am I going with this? Honestly I do not know. I'm not usually this serious. But I'm starting to realize that a body and soul do not forget things just because one takes a break. In fact, more often than not, the body and soul come back more fierce than ever.