The Sublime "Where nature's wildest genius reigns to tame the soul and plant the arts. " Freneau

Today, three days after the Nashville Flood of 2010, I ventured out for a six mile trail run on the Mossy Trail in my beloved Percy Warner Park (PWP). In the last week PWP had been fondly mentioned by Tom's two daughters, T & L's, who had blossomed into state ranked athletes under the tutelage of the dense deciduous forest. In a few months their anchor, Tom and I, to this woodland mentor would be gone. Like me, of all the places in Nashville it would be these woods that they would miss the most and place a permanent kernel of sorrow in their belly at the loss.
These woods have always felt gentle--non- threatening--except for the occasional swooping owl, cocky coyote, bossy yellow jackets, or lethargic rattlesnake(who was too lazy to rattle) and would rather terrify a few hikers than slink off to the 2,000 other available acres. Every so often an old lumbering tree would get fed up with posturing toward the sky and fall across the trail increasing the risk of poison oak irritating my delicate skin, or a tick feasting on it . Nothing like the cougars, bears, sassy rattling rattlers, forest fires, and blizzards I was anticipating with my move to the Cascadian wilderness of WA.
However, the woods were different this morning. Still imprinted in my mind from the weekend were the awesome images of the sublimity of Mother Nature I'd seen relived on the local media; interstates, subdivisions, floating churches, and us-- all at Her mercy under the deluge of 16 plus inches of rain in less than 24 hours .
As I set out on the trail, surprisingly, the earth was a firm rich red, cushioning my footfalls and allowing me to lift my gaze to a transformed Mossy trail. Whole trees were uprooted creating craters that had to be gingerly traversed. Deep turrets appeared at the bottom of a knob; I felt as if I was performing a plyometric drill, as I sidestepped over the pseudo earthquake chasms. The dripping springs was the easiest to navigate as a shingle slate bridge had formed making it a cinch to cross. Gully-washes of debris had altered the camber of the trail, while the strewn trees made it difficult to tell where I was exactly on my trusty route. Chipmunks and squirrels were squeaking and scurrying as they seemed as confused as me with all the rearranging of flora, rock, and earth.
However, in that confusion a calmness settled over me as I realized that the sublimity of nature is universal and is not reserved for the wilderness. While nature's touch looks rough and raw in Wa, I expect I will feel her gentle caress too. I don't have the luxury of Providence to guide, or protect me; I only have the inspiration of nature to inspire me and make me feel alive, for that I'm thankful.

I wish I was Hunky Dory

Changes: Jones, David Robert
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(turn and face the strain)....
Don't want to be a richer man...
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can't trace time

During adolescence I fell in love with this David Bowie hit; he captured how change felt to me--it was both fluid and resistant. Summers lasted an eternity and were a mix of sleeping late, hanging out at the local graveyard in Watford, and hitchhiking into London dressed in silver platforms, black satin maxi, and matching blazer to see Bowie play. However, just as my love for boys at that time was fickle so was my love for David.

The glitzy glam rock look was quickly replaced by a strange mix of Levis and vintage 1940's tops found at jumble sales, sewn by my best friend, F, or found in her mother's closet. I now listened to American artists like The Band, Linda Ronstadt, and Emmy Lou Harris. Instead of hitchhiking to London I baked onion quiches and apple pies for the local bands' gigs, while hanging out in the graveyard was replaced by midnight walks in the barley fields close to home. Despite these swift changes, I knew I would not become those ancient thirty something three piece suited clones, who dutifully walked by my house on their way home from the train station, and their smoky London offices.

Somehow over thirty five years have passed and I have continued to tumble through time. I never became a three piece suited clone, instead I wore the uniform of mother, wife, single mom, waitress, chef, massage therapist, student, nana, and dare I say athlete, but I did turn 20, 30, 40 ,50...

These thoughts bobbled through my mind as my body bobbed up and down in a sea of blue heads. It was Saturday 7.00 a.m.; I thought I would have the Y swimming pool to my self to deep water run. Instead, I was an invader of their space as they lunged back and forth with huge blue dumbbells that made their silver hair shimmer. I should have been warming up in my scarlet racing shoes, discussing race strategy with my best buddy,T, at the Tom King half-marathon; ready to hang on to T's quick step for an hour and sub forty if I was lucky. Instead here I was looking at my future in those crinkled determined faces. My inflamed hip taunted me, "Your days of speed are shot; welcome to the world of low impact submersion."

I glanced at the clock 8.00a.m.; T would be speeding along without me and finish in an incredible 1.37 and 2nd in her age group! I was alone in the deep end of the pool, the school of silver had migrated to the shallows where they laughed and giggled as a buff life guard yelled out instructions for the water aerobics class. I could feel the strain of the decades pulling me to submission. Yes, maybe I was"...gonna have to be a different man.", but I know when my hip and I are on better speaking terms I'll lace up my scarlet racing shoes and feel the fluidity of my step a few more times before I reach my next decade.

Metabolism Shababolism: Jillian Michaels "No You Didn'!"

After two whole posts, I've realized what motivates my writing--being pissed off! This week I wanted to address some of the misconceptions of fitness and health by focusing on metabolism. I went back to my anatomy and physiology, and sports science books to review the subject. However, I wasn't motivated to regurgitate the scientific facts of metabolism and explain how they relate to health and fitness.
So, I decided to explore what popular fitness and health experts have to say about metabolism and to compare those opinions to the facts.
I only had to find one "expert" to get my sympathetic nervous system revved up and my metabolism firing on all cylinders. Jillian Michaels of the TV show "The Biggest Loser" fame, is a self professed health and fitness guru. which is code for having zero qualifications and an ego to match her Napoleonic stature.
First, I have to confess I have a hate hate relationship with "The Biggest Loser" (BL) for all the following reasons. I started watching BL last season so I'd be current with how popular culture is dealing the obesity problem. I discovered they are dealing with it really badly. The show reminded me of the worst TV Evangelical broadcast where the spider eye-lashed orator with purple haze babooshka hair is trying to convince me my seed money is going to save a million souls, not enrich the coiffures of a transvestite wig and falsies company.
I wasn't having any warm fuzzy feelings towards Michaels, especially after witnessing her use of expletives to spur on her "pounds of flesh", oops contestants, to become dehydrated in the Last Chance Workout in order to lose the maximum weight possible. When I Googled her name looking for her latest book, "Master Your Metabolism: Why Hormones matter--To All of Us", I was not disappointed.
Well, yes Jillian hormones do matter to us all, because they are the messenger system outside of the cell and we'd be dust without them. They are necessary for all processes that happen outside of the cell body, including metabolism, to maintain homeostasis, or balance of the body. Blaming our collective weight problem in the U.S. on hormones is like blaming the current fiscal crisis on the need for people to have housing.
And Jillian in your first chapter (thank God the only one I read) you have worked ardently with health care, endocrine specialists, and the like to come to the staggering conclusion that you personally can eat a whopping 2,000 kcals a day and only have to exercise for 2 1/2 hours a week to maintain your 120lb tight bod. With a nod and a wink Jillian retorts "Sounds Crazy!"
Yes, er no Jillian, if you go to any Government health site, or energy calculator site you too will unearth this groundbreaking discovery. Yes, ones regular metabolism allows a sedentary 120lb female to consume 2,000 kcals a day if she works out for a total of 2 1/2 hours a week; regardless of detoxification and balancing those pesky hormones. However a 200 lb female doing the same amount of exercise can eat 2,465kcals. Where this gets interesting is when the 200 lb female would like to weigh 120 Lbs. In order to lose 1-2 lb's a week she must eat 2,095kcals just 70kcals more than the daily requirements of the 120 lb. female. As she continues to lose weight she either has to reduce her calories, increase her exercise, or both to keep losing weight, because her metabolism decreases the thinner she gets. If she reaches her 120 lb goal, she will never be able to go back to eating 2,465 Kcals a day unless she creates a deficit through exercise, or markedly increases her fat free mass (FFM) bone, muscle, and organs .
Genetics do play a role in our individual rates of metabolism. However, studies show this hereditary component can be manipulated through diet and exercise. Apparently our bodies are fine-tuned to eat a certain number of kcals, to within a couple of pretzels, regardless of energy expenditure. Researchers have shown that the body can reset this natural set point through consistent reduced, or increased, food intake and exercise. It's why short diets rarely work and why slow consistent changes to diet do work. To compound matters our metabolism decreases as we age. Why, because we lose FFM, which increases our fat mass (FM), which does not burn as many kcals as FFM. As we age the type of exercise we engage in is important; fast twitch muscles, which burn energy at a much higher rate than slow twitch (think sprinter and marathoner) are dramatically reduced as we age. Scientists aren't sure why, but think it is a classic case of use it or lose it. So to keep whatever fast twitch muscles we have into old age (slow twitch can't be converted to fast twitch) interval training is recommended. Bone and muscle loss occur through the aging process (5 percent loss per decade after age 40) so resistance training twice a week for older adults, especially post menopausal women, is more important than for younger adults.
Metabolism is not this secret key that has to be unlocked in the body through complicated detoxification processes and hormone balancing, but the natural process of our body staying balanced. This natural set point can be attained through a moderate healthy diet and consistent quality aerobic and resistance exercise.
Anyone who promises you the secret to metabolism, weight loss, or overall health most probably is as fake as those spider lashes on that TV Evangelical's face.

Side Walks & Bridle Paths: A Social Commentary

The " We Need Side Walks" signs seem glaringly out of place on the perfectly landscaped lawns that butt up to the sprawling English Tudor and French castlesque homes cloistered in one of the richest cities of Tennessee and the United States--Belle Meade. Where the median income is $167,000 and the Lexus is ubiquitous, my first thoughts on seeing this flurry of signs was, "Surely Belle Meade can afford side walks; boy, this recession has really hit deep; to, what are they complaining about Percy Warner Park is two minutes away.". In my mind I formed a scathing blog of these Belle Meade elites who could all afford the time and resources to exercise in the park, in the gym, or hire a personal trainer for their home work out. I haughtily thought, "I've been walking the roads of Nashville for 32 years without side walks; get over it!"

Then, Sunday as my friends and I ran down Tyne Blvd., preparing to leap into one of those elite's bushes as the late for Church worshipers hurled towards us, I noticed the "We Need Side Walks" sign had a web site: www.sidewalksforbellemeade.org. "Now I'll see what they're whining about, wanting money for their precious side walks when the unemployment rate is 10 percent."my British Socialist roots were going full throttle.

When I went to the website I was surprised and humbled; my judgments were way off base. There is plenty of money for sidewalks, both city and Federal, but according to the website "a very vocal, but minority group fought hard to stop the plan and were successful." Now it makes sense, those few dastardly elites (who I knew must be lurking somewhere) don't want side walks. They don't want a safer, healthier, more community oriented city. They don't want to follow the Belle Meade's mission statement values of compassion, courtesy, fairness, respect, and tolerance. No, they want Belle Meade to be an enclave within Nashville, not part of Metropolitan (Metro) Nashville where the citizens enjoy the services of Metro Government. By refusing side walks to the majority of Belle Meade citizens they curtail the trickle down effect from their poorer Nashville Cousins who might want to walk on these safe meandering pathways.

This Mindset and power control leaches into the green jewel of Metro Nashville, Percy Warner Park (PWP), which is just nine miles from downtown Nashville. PWP is not part of Belle Meade, but is the largest of Metro Nashville's parks. Yet in this 2,600 plus acre park there is an extensive network of bridle paths that only horse riders may use. Many other States have turned exclusive equestrian paths into multi-use trails that incorporate horse riders, hikers, runners, and even mountain bikers. While there is a strong argument to have separate mountain bike trails from horse trails, runners, hikers and horse riders are considered compatible. Currently there are no mountain bike trails in PWP.

I grew up at the wrong end of a very class conscious society, Great Britain. However, the one thing that I was not refused was the ability to walk. Anyone who has visited Britain will know about the endless network of footpaths that wend through farmland, villages, and towns and can be enjoyed by all.

Wouldn't it be a communal achievement if we Nashvillians could expand our network of pathways, be they side walks, or multi-use bridle paths to allow all citizens to use them and become neighbors.

Full Disclosure: I'm a semi-elite who lives in Forest Hills; my husband drives a Lexus.

No Force...

The irony of my first post is that right now I'm not that enthused about being physical. Although my enthusiasm for different activity modalities changes, I'm still entranced with improving my running; maybe even running one more marathon, especially if there's a posse of girlfriends and a destination like Eugene, Oregon to bait me. However, I've been packing up my home in readiness to put my house on the market (wish me luck) and I'm flat tired. Speed training, thirty plus miles a week, and even the prospect of a relaxing water jog does not excite me one bit.

"Great" you're thinking, "Here's this new blogger who professes to love movement, live for it, and even she can't get her butt out the door."

Maybe that's the point, even those of us who love and crave activity don't always want to exercise--we hurt, get discouraged, bored, depressed, and injured. But, we keep chipping away, doing something to stay active to not totally lose the little bit of cardio improvement, weight control, or contentment that physical activity gives us.

Rather than beating myself up for not going to speed session this a.m., I congratulated myself for choosing not to go out in 20 degree weather when my low back is tight as a tick, and my right hamstring feels as if it has an alien living in it. Instead, I chose to hike with a friend later in the day when it will be a tad warmer and our constant chatter will distract me from the cold.

I have my daughter, Colette, and a workshop, Intro to Qi Gong, that I took at the weekend to remind me of the one principal I can say "I believe in". No Force is a Hakomi principal that allows me to step back from actions that I'm trying to make happen, like going to speed session because I don't want to let my friends down, lose training, or look like a wimp even though my body is exhausted and on the verge of injury. By allowing myself to not exercise, without judgment, allowed the possibility of an alternative way to be physical and thus I avoided the greatest threat to becoming a consistent exerciser--non-compliance.