Almost time to start moving again

So this month has been a little, umm, turbulent for my workouts (but great for my writing and work). Luckily, I have a few things on the horizon to motivate me:

• my friend Suzanne invited me to join her for the month of February 90/10 fitness and nutrition challenge. I'm excited to get back into the swing and get a little non-detox detox action. Not only does this include nutritional counseling, but E bought a bunch of Vega One at Marshall's for super cheap AND the February challenge includes some quality time with my boy Tony Horton!
• I'm really looking forward to kickboxing again! Since writing my article on non-gym fitness and nutrition services in Pittsburgh for Pop City, I've been really missing my butt-kicking women and men of ILKB. I still have 15 or so classes left on my card so I'll be able to kick it into high gear (get it?) when I get home, as my schedule allows.
• I finally got my fitness itinerary for the first few months of training for my 80 mile Newfoundland hike. 

Since I'm preparing for a specific goal, as opposed to just working out for the love and fun of it, it will be easier to maintain a structure. However, the structure is pretty easy. So far it's very loose, and I first need to assess my fitness (which, despite my complaining and the pounds I inevitably packed on this month, is pretty good). Then, it's basically just working out three days a week that includes cardio, strength, and stretching. The fitness team also shared this helpful link from REI, specifically for training for a backpacking trip. I'm excited to have a real excuse to run the stairs besides just being kind of a maniac. I don't know if I'm really looking forward to running them with a loaded pack, but hey, baby steps. 

Cabin Fever

Though I've been able to get out and moving these past few weeks in Vermont, I admit I am starting to feel a little bit of cabin fever. I typically have been going for a walk in the morning in between breakfast and lunch, and then working from lunch until about midnight, stopping for dinner and maybe a quick drink with friends. But it's been not only cold, but icy, and I promised myself I wouldn't slip on the ice while I'm here because, well, I hate slipping on ice. Maybe it's the added pain of my bruised ego, but falling on the ice is often more painful than just tripping somewhere. On the positive, I've also had a hard time getting away from my work, and have been writing my little heart out. By the time I'm at a stopping point, it's not a good time to exercise.

Also, I'm lazy, which is something new about myself that I've learned here in Vermont. Thanks, New England.

I have been snowshoeing, though, and taking walks along the river— often breaking trail to catch some gorgeous views and off the beaten path.

It's been nice being away from the noise and clutter of city life, and I'm interested to see how I adapt to being around so many people and noises again. I've been writing a lot about New Mexico, and it seems increasingly where I need to be in the world. All in due time, I suppose. In the meantime, I need more exercises I can do in my studio that are quiet, use no equipment, and require no amount of real space. I found this video from Fitness Blender, who have a number of other great low-impact workouts but this is a great short one to keep my blood flowing:

My SoleusGo is constantly reminding me to MOVE when I'm sitting at my desk plugging away, so these short little videos and workouts such as the one I posted earlier in my blog are great to get the butt out of the seat, if only for a few minutes.

Maybe today will be the day I go for a run? It's supposed to get as warm as 29 degrees today, which feels steamy after the -20 nights and 1 degree mornings to which I've grown accustomed.

If you live in a cold climate year-round, what do you do to stay active and happy?

Finding the Trail or Losing My Way

After all the wind and cold, today's sunny 16 degrees felt like a beach day, so I struck out in search of a hike. It was a great time to test the GoGo Gear kevlar leggings in the deep snow, as well as put my YakTrax to good use. I was a bit concerned about the cold, because 16 degrees is still quite cold, but was confident in the pants and boots (Sorel's Joan of Arctic aka "boots with the fur"). I was surprised at how warm my upper body was with just a base layer and faithful North Face coat.

Anyway, no product reviews just yet, but will say that so far everything worked great, even the YakTrax which model I have is really just for walking on poorly plowed streets. I hiked up some very steep "trails" and had zero problems once I put on my YakTrax, and it only popped off once, as I was hurdling myself off fallen trees and through deep trenches of snow to attempt some photos of cool looking rocks. Besides that, they stayed on great and held excellent traction on ice, packed, and deep snow.

Sore from the previous indoor workout, but feeling a bit disgusted at having eaten and drank so much last night at Shabbat, dinner (which had ice cream and brownies for dessert, the jerks), and the inevitable party that happened to make use of all the extra Shabbat wine, I was interested in a long, arduous walk in the woods, and went searching for one, which was harder than I expected. For a while, I walked pathless in the woods, following the trails of animals and working towards whatever looked the most promising for a view.

I walked up and down a number of hills, eventually coming to a wide and obvious path with smaller trails leading off from it. I meandered in and out of the various smaller trails, working my way up the long face of the mountain. It was a beautiful day that brought out all I love about winter— how everything is muted, insulated by the snow, even the cold is more mild once the snow comes. Even on somewhat cloudy days, the sun cuts through and is instantly so brilliant, reflecting off all the snow and ice, and the thin wintry air.

It's hard to explain to people why I like winter but I hate it in Pittsburgh, but I think it's the mildness that aids in the seasonal depression. There's little snow and zero sun, and the cold isn't championed by drastic conditions or impressive scenery. The air isn't thin so much as wispy, like a balding head. While northern Vermont is definitely colder, it's almost Shakespearean in its drama. Pittsburgh, by contrast could only wish to be Dickensy, droning on forever as if getting paid per cloudless day.

Plus, Vermont has teeth:

Inside Voices

The river, which has been positively gushing, is now at a calm. the banks have opened slightly as the temperature has crested 10 degreesF and the winds have calmed. The past few days have been astonishingly cold, reaching down as low at -20 at night with a windchill of -50 (to say "feels like" is nonsensical to me, because I don't think I can tell much the difference between super friggin cold and really super friggin cold). What's strange is that I don't mind it. I need to remember to zip up my jacket all the way and put my gloves on even just to cross the street, but otherwise it's beautiful and frankly pleasant. However, that doesn't mean I want to exercise in what is essentially -50 degrees, so I went back into my notes and used my brain a little bit (a surprise to me as well) to come up with an exercise I could do myself that wouldn't wake my fellow residents who may be trying to sleep or work. A website I respect is 12 Minute Athlete, which name is pretty self explanatory. I had bookmarked in my phone a workout Krista, who runs the site, posted last year that does not include any equipment and is relatively silent (no jumping), so it's perfect for my situation. I used a timer app to set intervals, though when I do it next time I will program it differently so I get a better all around workout. The workout can be found here, and is comprised of variants of pushups and squats — both full-body exercises that get the heart rate up with out causing a commotion (aside from the inevitable grunts and swears) — and wraps up with some supplemental core work.

Additionally, I added a set of low-impact burpees— no jumping, and utilizing the yoga transition from forward bend to low plank in my burpee transition, which is harder and slower, something I can appreciate when I'm doing smaller reps and trying to be quiet.

Even though it was a short workout, about 15 minutes, I still broke a pretty good sweat! While I prefer to be outside, there are times when it can be dangerous, and it's nice to have a back-up plan. Outside is free, but so is using the space we already occupy.

In my studio, I can get in the zone writing, and am thankful for my little Soleus Go! that reminds me to move when I've been stagnant. Sometimes I ignore it because you don't walk away from the table on a heater, but if I'm just fighting through my own procrastination, the reminder is good to get away from my desk and do some stretching. My go-to is Bird Dog, an ab workout that is very simple and stabilizing, and again doesn't require any equipment or jumping. I do 2 sets of 15 on each side, alternating the sides.

If you work at a desk, or travel often and need a simple and quiet workout, I'm interested in what your go-to routine is. Post it in the comments!

Settling In

After a few days of relative stillness (besides a short and incredibly cold walk and some morning/evening stretches), I was aching for movement. I had set my alarm to get up in time to make it to breakfast, but unfortunately I've lived in cities and under a highway far too long for the gentle sound affects of wind chimes and a slow-rolling tide to do anything but put me into a deeper sleep. I should have known, since it's the same sounds I use to fall asleep in the first place, but I didn't want to use a harsh sound with such thin walls, not knowing the sleeping patterns of my fellow residents.

Having missed morning meditation and breakfast, and having written four or five poems last night, I decided to spend the morning with myself, relaxing and enjoying the solitude. I took a shower and, after fumbling through a not very intuitive yoga app, ditched the prompts and pushed myself through vinyasa, followed by mild twist, core, and inversions. I drank some Vega Protein & Greens and read from a book I borrowed from the extensive library here, and by lunch time I was anxious to move again. My brain was wandering and unable to focus. The lines of poems were coming, slowly, but they were muddled and disjointed. I needed to clear my head.

I grabbed a map packet, which didn't offer much guidance, and took to the streets to see Johnson, Vermont, and empty my head of all the presumptions its been building and carrying like wet logs for a fire. Pavement turned to ice and back, then dirt road to ice and back, as the hills climbed and scenery became more epic and the road a bit more difficult. I met a woman who came from her long driveway in a pickup who announced she was just picking up her mail, a courtesy, and later pulled up and asked if I would like a ride. I kept on walking and after a few more turns in the road, headed back towards campus. The sun was starting to set, the wind to pick up, and the snow was certainly falling. I was surprisingly warm but my legs, which don't typically feel temperature, started to feel strange again the fabric of the pants I chose. Sure, I relieved myself in the shaded cove behind a snow bank, but I was careful not to get any snow on me. I felt my legs, which were dry, and kept walking. By now, I had found myself in someone's back yard, following a road that turned into a driveway, and was stumbling in the snow down a steep hill into a graveyard.

The graveyard was surprisingly modern, with gravestones of people who had lived long and hopefully fulfilling lives, space on the gravestones for their loved ones, some whose names were already, ahem, cryptically engraved. The snow, merely dusted over from a few days ago, was frozen with the tracks of large animals, possible a snowshoe hare and a moose, as well as large dog tracks, human tracks, cross country skis, and bicycle tires.

I had long since turned off my headphones, enjoying the paced breaks in silence caused by my footsteps and nylon-covered arms swinging with my gait. As I stepped from the graveyard, I heard the first familiar sounds of society: what appeared to be a woman pleading for her safety. Next, of course, came the cars and trucks rushing by on the road, perhaps anxious to get home before the storm picked up. I damned them to stop, but by the time the last of them did, I couldn't hear the voice any longer to determine its source or its intent. The wind picked up, the cars came again, and as I stepped onto the main road, I noticed the ringing in my ears, which had somehow disappeared for that brief hour and a half frozen chunk of time. What could I do, anyway?

First Day at Vermont Studio Center

I'm in Vermont, at the Vermont Studio Center. I'll be here all month. All. Month. M. O. N. T. H.

And it's beautiful. I have a room to myself, and a studio office to myself, both rooms with views into the white, serene storm of creativity. Also, the storm of snow, which is also white. And the frozen river, white, and the houses also, and the sky. The Red Mill, where the lounge and cafeteria are located, is a bright barn red. Both the water that flows under the ice and the quickly plowed road are a coal black in contrast to the white of our reality.

My parents drove me up yesterday, a final time alone with them before I secluded myself in a small artist colony and they immersed themselves in the world of babysitting. Today was uncommonly warm for January, and the snow stuck to the ground but fell in heaps from the rooftops into the Gihon river, which rushes by my window as I write this. Ducks dare the current, jumping in for moments at a time, just before the waterfall, before bouncing back onto the banks or a large chunk of ice in the center of the river.

The wind is picking up now, and tomorrow will be cold, and the foreseeable days after that. It's blowing so hard it sounds like the building might just pick up and fly away. In Pittsh (nor can I afford to). Anyway, it's so beautiful here, and I was given enough fleece-lined tights that I'm compelled to spend as much non-writing time as possible exploring the woods with my snowshoes, once more snow comes to replace whatever melted, or hiking through with my high boots.

The food is divine and, for the most part, locally sourced. I did eat the fresh baked bread, to my stomach's distaste, but refrained from the strawberry shortcake. We'll see what tomorrow brings as I finally start to realign myself with my dietary needs.

The wind is blowing so hard it sounds like the building might just pick up and fly away. In Pittsburgh, we have wind, but the noise's power is usually minimized out by the sound of traffic and machines and people. Though at night, sometimes, I've awoken to the strong gusts that rattle me awake. I sit up and see everything inside, so still and loved, despite the chaos of outside the house. I hug E. and Major Tom and fall back to bed. Last night I woke to the strong winds that blew straight through my window with such force I could feel them like cold breath against my cheek. But in my studio I have a thermostat and a stack of books, and in both rooms I have a comfy chair by the window like I've always dreamed.

We'll see what dreams tonight brings.