Sprinting (*Underwater)

Archery is far more than mere adventure. Bows are used not only for competition shooting, but as weapons. There are cross bows, compound bows, recurves, self-bows and longbows, as well as native American, Paleo style and bows that nod to medieval styles. What’s your preference, Katness? Are you shooting haybales, tennis balls, squirrels, or rogue elephants--? Doesn’t matter. There’s a proper bow for every inclination, a correct arrow for every bow. Like anything worth learning, the sport of archery is complex. I’ve become more and more immersed in traditional archery over the last few months. And am fortunate to have an expert longbow archer to guide me step by step (thanks, Mike). In my original naiveté I believed you could walk into a sporting goods store and buy a bow. No way. Of course you can, but unless you’re experienced you might buy the wrong length, or the wrong weight. Or the wrong style. Bear in mind too that most box stores do not carry traditional longbows.

Artemis, the Greek goddess & deadly hunter of game & men

To get the right bow, you not only have to have a sense of what style attracts you (the bows used in the Hunger Games were recurves), you first have to be aware of how many pounds of pull you can easily exert at full draw. That’s one of the most important rules… Pulling your chosen bow to full extension, what weight are you drawing? Straining to make that extension will inevitably lead to poor form, so it’s essential to determine the correct weight. You may be shooting on a range for an hour, or practicing with a home target and loosing 50 arrows in the same time frame. Too heavy a bow will wear out the most athletic enthusiast. Most bows are rated at between 30 pounds and 75 pounds--although they are available lighter and heavier--with the sweet spot for most men at around 50-55 pounds (it’s not uncommon to be too macho and buy a heavier bow than you can reasonably shoot over an extended time; it’s always better to “underbow” than overbow in the beginning). Women and younger shooters will usually begin with 30-40 pound bows.

Howard Hill longbow

Experienced hunters will note that deer and larger game require a 40+ pound bow. Anthropologists have estimated that most native American bows pulled between 35 and 45 pounds, and were quite capable of taking antelope and even bigger game. Accuracy of course played a huge role. Too, a 40 pound longbow will shoot an arrow at over 155 feet per second (fps). Most shooting of game occurs only at 20 to 50 feet away. At a velocity of 155 fps, an arrow shot that distance will hit its target in less than 1/3 of second. That’s serious speed. A long term consideration for a new archer is that practice makes an archer stronger, so in time, you will be able to draw more poundage more easily. What’s that mean? In terms of cost you could end up selling your initial bow after a few months or a year for a more powerful version. This of course is a problem most of us would not consider problematic. What are the basics of bow shooting? There are seven or so key basics to master. They include stance, bow grip, using back muscles rather than forearm strength, learning your personal “anchor point” (where the drawing hand stops and anchors on your face at maximum draw), knowing how to aim and knowing when to release the arrow. There is a certain “zen” to releasing the arrow. Trainers are fond of repeating that the archer never releases the arrow--it is shot when the perfect moment occurs, and the release is never conscious. An archer who properly releases an arrow also exhibits a dynamic follow through with hand and body. The drawing fingers do not just suddenly release. The arrow flies while the archer is still pulling. In future blog entries, I’ll continue to comment about this new journey. There are exciting paraphernalia that are necessities that I’ll discuss, including arm guards, quivers, arrows themselves and finger protectors. And last, I’ll look at several of the founding figures in contemporary archery, including Howard Hill and Fred Bear.

I’ve been on an interesting journey that I should share. It’s been an exercise-driven trek with twists and turns, sharp falls, dark corners, exhilarating climbs. Not to mention an occasional bump that left me sore for days. And it’s been one that until recently left me wondering about my choices of exercise, frequency, intensity and whether to work specific muscles during a single session or to go for all-body workouts. The so-called WOD I conducted was, admittedly, hit and miss, art (and instinct) more than science. Background? For several years I was a typical gym rat, working a series of machines and tracking my “progress” using a club-supplied computer kiosk tracking station. You know the kind of feedback these give: “Congratulations. You lifted a total of 12,330 lbs today worth 220 points. Good work!” I’d progressed from the White level, through the Green, Brown and into the revered Black zone. I was rocking. When I achieved Black, a series of digital fireworks illuminated the screen of the kiosk. Awesome. But I dropped that conventional stuff over a year ago when I fell in love with kettle bells. Since my initial kettlebell epiphany--and it remains as strong as ever, my main focus has been on using these big iron cannonballs in combination with stretch bands, pull-up bars and gymnastic rings. No more formal machines. What a relief. Au natural. My goal--my utterly naive goal--has been to create a perfect, personal fitness regime, something orderly, reliable and efficient. Something efficacious. I even calendared exactly what I’d do and when for months ahead. But as I worked through my perfect routine day after day, things didn’t feel right. It was all there, laid out in detail, but I continued to worry about emphasis, the mix of routines, ideal routines, and how often I should really be doing all of these neat things I’d learned. In short, there was a nagging voice asking me if I wasn’t kidding myself. As background, about a year ago I settled on absorbing as much as possible from books by Jeff Martone (Kettlebell Rx) and Pavel, both fitness pros and superb kettlebell gurus. As I’ve recounted here earlier, I recently took an intense CrossFit kettlebell instructor course from Martone--and to my astonishment, passed. Also, while continuing to absorb kettlebell minutia, I began to poke into the exercise philosophies of MovNat (a philosophy of natural movements--jumping rocks, climbing trees, sprinting) and Gold Metal Bodies (foundational gymnastic work). I was slightly obsessive; I suspect I am not unusual. Perfection for people like me is, of course, just around the corner. Still, any nirvana within all the possibilities that I was parsing seemed elusive. Possibilities were still ricocheting around in my mind almost daily and I never felt the routine that promised physiological perfection. It always seemed right around the corner. It was as if all the pieces were there, but I was unable to make them match the picture on the puzzle box. Then, I had another epiphany. For some time I’d been aware of Ori Hofmekler’s Warrior Diet. Jeff Martone and his wife, Marlene, were advocates. Many professional athletes and elite special forces guys were as well. But I viewed the book as just another diet book. And god knows I had cut through too many of those in the last decade. How many of us haven’t? I didn’t need another. Or so I believed. As you may have guessed, I did buy the book (available at http://www.warriordiet.com/). I am still trying to figure out why I did, what triggered my decision. Perhaps it doesn’t matter. I acknowledge that the world works in mysterious ways. And I accept that small revelations do come along every so often. Warrior Diet proved to be a major revelation, one that was completely unexpected.

Ori Hofmekler

What I found is that there is far more between the covers than the title promises. At least for me, the book is not about diets. I found to my surprise that I am already largely eating as Hofmekler recommends. I stumbled into the diet on my own a few years ago; I got lucky. No, the revelation is in his exercise recommendations in the last 20% of the book. They synthesize all the information I had been unable to process until this point. Suddenly it all became clear. Exercise hows, whens, whats… Hofmekler has created a system he calls Controlled Fatigue Training (CFT). It’s based on a couple of simple exercise parameters that combine strength, speed and high velocity. That sounds easy enough. And in fact the exercises are not mysteries; they’re largely common routines. What is unique is the structure. First, there’s no training to failure. Second, training is brief--around 20-30 minutes. Third, the duration encompasses whole body work. The typical CFT workout incorporates pre-fatigue training, usually sprints combined with small weights. Those shift into core training, which may be any assortment of laterals, cleans and presses (for which I use kettle bells), and an ab series performed with a pull up bar. The workout is finished with a couple post-fatigue routines such as frog jumps. These three sections combine velocity (sprints) with strength training. It’s challenging, intellectually sound and exhausting.

November 3, 2012        Kettlebells.

Kettlebells. A worthy subject. I can’t imagine a more dynamic--and challenging--invention. These heavy iron balls with handles came out of old Russia, the pre-Soviet era, and were brought into the US in 1999--somewhat more than a decade ago--by Pavel Tsatsouline, a young and  inspirational Russian trainer who quickly converted 100s of American and European athletes into kettlebell believers. Kettlebells are now used by professional athletes, trainers, fighters, military personnel in many of the world’s armies, police, firemen and the Secret Service. They’ve been adopted by so many elite professionals because they work. People who depend on explosive strength to survive in their jobs count on kettlebells--they’re that effective.     One of Pavel’s first American students was Jeff Martone, who became a senior instructor under Pavel. Martone has become one of my teachers. In Tibetan Buddhism, I would call him my root master, although I have trained with several other fine teachers, particularly Mike Seeley, an exceptional CrossFit kettlebell trainer.

Jeff Martone juggling a kettlebell.     As a title, "master" would be worthy as Martone ranks as the finest instructor in this elite field. He has gone on to study in Russia, has modified and improved some of Pavel’s basic moves, and has now taught 1,000s of students through Pavel’s RKC--and more recently through CrossFit, as their senior kettlebell instructor. Highly inspirational himself, Martone has become a dominant figure in the kettlebell world (his personal company, Tactical Athlete, can be found at www.tacticalathlete.com).     So what is it with kettlebells? My own experience is that these odd weights are so attractive because they are so dynamic. Unlike conventional weights--you know the routine: barbells, multiple weights, chalk, loud grunting--kettlebells challenge all muscle groups. Conventional weights have their place, but they build selective muscles to the exclusion of the entire body. There are many stories of accomplished weight lifters who got smoked quickly when they picked up a kettlebell for a few swings. For kettlebells create total strength, not a few strong muscle groups. And that’s largely why Special Ops guys quickly embraced these.     Pavel is fond of saying, “When we say strength, we mean kettlebells; when we say kettlebells, we mean strength.” It took me many months of practice to appreciate the saying. But in its chauvinistic way, it’s utterly true. The kettlebell builds strength. But there’s far more. In addition, it builds resiliency, flexibility and staying power.     As part of my personal kettlebell journey, two weekends ago I completed the CrossFit Kettlebell Instructor course taught by Jeff Martone. I was terrified going in that all of my months of practice would be for naught. I’m pleased to say that I passed--and that I found in subsequent days of practice that many of the more difficult routines had become crisper, stronger, more accomplished.

Jeff Martone in Norwood, Mass., October 2012     My efforts aside, Martone taught the several days of instruction masterfully. There was tremendous emphasis on the role a trainer plays, techniques to measure students, and blow by blow examples of every imaginable mistake a beginner makes--with appropriate corrections. In the last decade Martone has clearly seen it all, and shared his experiences without reservation. Kudos to a guy who gives his all.     As an aside, I confess that I also learned during that weekend that kettlebell virtuosity is probably a lifelong pursuit. Although many of my moves were dramatically improved under Martone’s corrective eye, I also realize how much I still have to learn. I suspect that the better one becomes at any accomplishment, the more sensitive you are to fine nuances that were easily ignored before. Suddenly, perfection becomes its own pursuit.      A last comment. If you are drawn to play with kettlebells, as I was, find a certified instructor. Doing so is essential. No kidding. Internet videos, although helpful, ultimately don’t cut it. In fact, DVDs are never a substitute for an accomplished instructor. A trainer sees you objectively, and makes corrections before they become habits. I can’t give a more important recommendation. Believe me: Having a good instructor early in my practice saved me. If you're in Massachusetts, look up Mike Seeley (or contact me for contact info)--he's a superb instructor.

Sept 3 2012

A new book, "Warrior Spirit Principles for Holistic Health" by Khaled Allen, was released earlier this week. The work is available on his website; find it at

http://www.khaledallen.com/warriorspirit/store/

Although I don't know him, I've followed Allen on Twitter (@khaledallen) for some time & was eager to see his views summarized in one easily accessible location. This book does it, & quite nicely. It comes as a downloadable e-book or PDF; I bought the PDF version.

"Warrior Spirit Principles" is essentially one man's journey through the miasma of modern, constantly conflicting health & food advice--& his subsequent breakout into a place of health, strength & insight. I happen to have been on an independent & very similar journey over the last decade; his discoveries & insights are spot on. For those of you too busy to read through the entirety of this review, here's my summary: Get Allen's book. It's worth every penny.

Details? As a young man Allen takes a very traditional, yet modern journey from poor to vibrant health. His path is one of classic self-discovery. To Allen's credit he does not dwell at length on personal details beyond adequately describing his frustrations, and subsequent motivations to find the truth.

"Warrior Spirit Principles" is driven by two primary subjects: diet & exercise. In the first, Allen journeys from the dark land of industrial, processed food to the discovery of whole foods, particularly those recommended in the new "Paleo" movement (which I've written about in earlier posts). Similarly, his physical changes are prompted by, at first, obsession with an exercise program called "CrossFit," to the more nuanced approach favored by Mark Sisson (see Primal Blueprint) and Erwin Le Corre (who recently founded a program called MovNat).

Photo from a MovNat workshop.

Allen's advice is the result of years of self-experimentation. From my own experiences, I find his journey compelling & genuine--& his conclusions accurate. His dietary advice is personal, that is, it's an in-depth & accessible description of what has worked for him. And why. (Although at one point in the book he sagely remarks that one should avoid giving casual dietary advice--equating doing so to discussing politics & religion--I will disregard that comment & note that the dietary advice in "Warrior Spirit Principles" is sound, scientifically-based & accurate.) Like the best of authors, he spends sufficient time explaining his conclusions & exactly no more. He writes succinctly. Bravo.

"Warrior Spirit Principles" makes a compelling case for avoiding the gym rat syndrome and treating yourself--that is, your body--with compassion. Allen himself knows the differences & takes us through his years as an avid CrossFitter, as an instructor, even as a barefoot runner.

Typical CrossFit class.

It's fair to say that he has shifted away from the intense varieties of gym-driven exercise to a far more nuanced & natural approach. I won't spend time describing his recommendations other than to note that, in this regard as well, our journeys have been similar. In fact our conclusions are amazingly alike. But if you are struggling with your own journey, this book should be a revelation--& may save you years of pain, injury & frustration.

My quibbles with "Warrior Spirit Principles"? They're few. It feels slightly rushed, as is common with the first version of any book. His summary, entitled Going Forward, could be far more robust; I'd prefer a true summary that reiterates the key points made throughout the book. I'd also recommend more graphics & illustrations in the next edition. An Index would be helpful. But these are quibbles.

The book is a must-own. As perspective it is long overdue & provides balance & sanity in a world where advice is everywhere--where the good & the bad are too often indistinguishable. Allen is a marvelous translator & trustworthy guru.

Above all he writes as a Bodhisattva. I had the feeling as I read "Warrior Spirit Principles" that Allen's motivation to create this arose from compassion. It doesn't get much better.

August 31 2012

Here are the tools, North Face trail or hiking boots, Gore-Tex lined, tremendous grip. This isn't a place for barefoot, trust me. Just strap them on & go:

Here's the terrain:

Several times a week I will hit various trails in central Massachusetts. This one (the map recorded using MotionX GPS on my iPhone4) is in Berlin. It's a vast conservation acreage, isolated, riddled with high quality dirt trails & marked with streams, ponds & glacial erratics.

Topographically, there is about 300-feet of change, enough to keep you honest as you move along at speed. Vegetatively, the area is composed largely of deciduous trees with scattered, smaller, tight ecosystems of white pines & upland mosses. Trails are narrow, most no wider than two-feet & averaging 18-inches.

The entire 500-600 acres was cleared 80-100 years ago. So there are numerous stonewalls that run through the site, mostly constructed by slaves as either boundary divisions, or to keep cattle out of lower lying areas. Today the once open fields are woodlands. [Yes, pre-Civil War, many farmers in Massachusetts were slave owners.]

There's a small stream I enjoy running beside. It's unnamed, which is typical with smaller brooks or creeks. These often go dry in late summer. At times they'll contain wild brook trout in the occasional deeper pools.

Because the trails are relatively flat (2-8% slopes), they're ideal for sprints. Of course you have to watch for the endless small, rounded stones that litter the paths. I look at dodging stones as plyometric work, no different than side-stepping through formal painted "ladders" in my local gym. It's all the same, though sprinting here requires intense mind-foot coordination.

Over the years various denizens of these small paths have built stone cairns. This is a nice version. They're intended to be either decorative, or helpful to stay on paths when snowfall has covered the area.

If you're ever curious about any of these locations, let me know & I'll email you coordinates. Walking in these deep, isolated areas is essential for the soul, a natural form of moving meditation.

I just posted a Tweeter diatribe about my fellow Paleo-ists. I refer to those who have wedged out a living by hawking dietary advice, those who sell "Paleo" snacks, those who conduct seminars on how to eat properly & those whose sole purpose seems to be providing recipes.

No, it is not about whole food. That sole focus will prove to be the movement's Achilles heel unless it is eradicated. It's about Whole Living.

Above all Paleo is holistic, a complete and integrated lifestyle. Paleo is how we think, how we sleep, how we move. It is a celebration of randomness, a willingness to let go. A celebration--and a joy--at our lack of control of the cosmos. We have waves to ride, not to control. We have worlds to observe, not to dominate. We have starry skies to gawk at, rivers to stand before in awe. Wild trout are Paleo: Dieticians are not.

The mother lode of Paleo is movement. Movement is partially about how we exercise, but it should be above all about our attitude toward movement, our attitude toward life. This is the true 24 kt stuff. The recent MovNat training seminars exemplify that spirit. And that spirit must be carried into how we approach more formal exercises such as kettle bell practice. And of course how we approach the basics (I refer to push & pull ups, leg lifts, back bends, sprints, long & goalless trail hikes).

Note that through this writing I have mentioned food only as a tangent. Frankly, "getting" how to eat Paleo takes a week of study. That's it. Then you know. You Know. You need no further advice. You need no hand holding.

For a constant discussion of these & related subjects, I recommend a wonderful blog called Warrior Spirit. Here's a link:  http://www.khaledallen.com/warriorspirit/

From Saturday's trail hike (Berlin, Massachusetts). Tremendously varied terrain & types of ecosystems. This is definitely a lovely time of year.

Lichens on a glacial erratic.

Wetland edge beside pond: Cinnamon ferns in foreground.

Control structure outlet on a pond.

I'll be teaching a wetland delineation course in October and one of my co-instructors took me out to a wooded preservation in Berlin where he proposed to hold the field session. The site is riddled with varying ecosystems and numerous wetlands. It turns out to be ideal for a field class. To my shame, I was unaware the site even existed.

It's a marvelous location with 70-100 year old woods (including a 250-year old Oak tree), a perennial stream (Brewer Brook) and a small earthen dam.

Several years ago local Girl Scouts created a couple mile trail through the site--the so-called "Reflection Trail." It's a lovely walk, with minor changes in topography, breathtaking views of a pond and all the signs of a trail rarely used by local residents. Here's a portion of the trail (the blue line indicates my walk a couple days ago):

To the Town's credit, trails are narrow, hard-packed and minimally maintained.

The above photo is a crossing over a small stream. MovNat would appreciate this challenge!

View of the pond in the lowest portion of the site.

Almost 20 years ago I had a client propose to burn down 15 acres of wetlands so they “wouldn't be wetlands.” After that  I thought I had heard it all. Yet a few weeks ago I was asked by a client to re-flag a wetland. The permit had lapsed by three months, and the wetland commission wanted the wetland re-delineated.  I went out to the site, and as I recovered remnants of old wetland flags, I realized the area was in transition. White pines had migrated in, and broad swathes of Royal fern had shifted up gradient into areas of former upland. About the time I realized that the re-delineation had become complicated, my client pulled up on the roadside.

I told him what I had observed. He wanted to know what species had changed, and where.  I indicated general areas that seemed different, and noted that I would be back to look at the soils on another day. He was clearly upset, and was quick to note that his wetland line couldn't change even a foot. The town had approved his architectural and site plans after a huge struggle, and he would face complicated drainage redesign if the line changed. I assured him that he should not jump to conclusions. My observations were preliminary and a detailed soils analysis might indicate that the changes in vegetation were insufficient to move the wetland line. I reminded him that I had to find both wetland plants and hydric soils. He emphasized again that nothing, nothing could change. We spoke the next morning by phone. He told me to hold off on the re-delineation, and started muttering about finding another "biologist." When we spoke again a week later he told me he had a "confession" to make. He said that the day after our site meeting, he had hired some "landscapers" to pull out the errant wetland plants.  I said, "What?" He said, "Yes, they spent two or three days out there. I showed them what ferns to pull out, and they did. All the way to the roots. Then they bagged them all up and took it all off site... Oh, yeah, they also scattered leaves everywhere they worked. No one will ever know." I was astounded. "How did they know what ferns to pull?" I asked.  "I have books," he said, “so I know. Those ferns were the small ones with pointed ends, right?"

As he went on, I realized he was describing Hayscented fern, not the Royal fern that I had seen moving up slope. What a crazy situation, I thought. This man had spent days on his site, with a crew of laborers who pulled out nothing but upland ferns in a criminal attempt to alter wetlands.

Agile, Mobile, Hostile--the theme of Tactical Athlete. Repeat after me: Agile, Mobile, Hostile. Nice ring, huh?

Jeff Martone

Tactical Athlete is the name of Jeff Martone's company. Martone himself is a kettle bell master as well as a former special ops trainer (that's right, Special Ops--don't ask).

The deeper I dig into the site and Jeff's offerings, the more impressed I become. First, he's an amazing coach & trainer (Martone is the primary CrossFit kettle bell trainer).

He's trained 1,000s of students in the last decade, private, military, police, tactical & others.  Second, his website itself is intelligently set up. Best, what he sells is oriented toward the core stuff--kettle bells and pull up systems. It's the gold standard and what's there is only what he's screened.

But the real meat (the Paleolithic meat) is his book (Kettle Bell Rx) and his many videos. This is superb stuff, carefully designed, carefully written and almost faultless in its organization and quality. If you're interested in basic, primal fitness, it's worth browsing and buying from Jeff's site.  http://tacticalathlete.com/index.php

Rains yesterday and last night, some torrential, tropical. Several inches fell and the roads and formerly intermittent streams ran wet for hours.

I decided mid morning today to trail hike the Mount Piscah area in Berlin, central Massachusetts. It's a 600 acre area of woods, streams, and steep topography. Trails are all dirt, narrow and after storms, often a mess. I tracked my hike using an app on my iPhone called MotionX GPS (v. 19+) http://gps.motionx.com/iphone/overview/.

A tweeter buddy (thanks, Brian) had posted a map of a cycling route he'd completed that had been recorded using the same app. I was inspired.

Shot in the Piscah area.

Today's eventual hike took slightly under an hour, trails as wet as I'd anticipated, glacial rocks slippery. About 10 minutes after I was through, skies opened again and an incredible storm swept through.

The MotionX app performed like a champ. Here's the map of my route that it recorded. Very cool.

Nothing Primal here.

Popped into Artform Studio: Haircuts & Records, a salon on 3rd St beside the arts district in LA. Unique & very cool. The shop combines LPs, records & tremendously skilled hair cutters. I got a spike cut & shampoo from Kazuka Shimada. The shop sits diagonally across from the Little Tokyo shopping plaza. A couple photos:

The inside of the shop...

Fascinating week in southern California. Stayed in a loft in the Arts District in L.A. with a day trip by train to Santa Barbara (marvelous wine tasting while there), walks in Little Tokyo, sightseeing in Burbank, navigating LAX. I got a haircut at a small shop beside Little Tokyo called Haircuts & Records--highly recommended.

Here's a tsunami warning sign near the beaches in Santa Barbara:

My first major observation is that overweight Americans were few & far between. The paradigm was fitness, or at least extreme consciousness about weight. The dominant form of transportation is either walking or biking. It's extremely easy to eat Paleo. The overall feeling, at least where I went, was European. There is a refreshing lack of national chains & franchises.

My second observation is that the frantic pace I'm so used to on the east coast is largely absent. There are many, many coffee shops and small restaurants & they're filled throughout the day. Here's a shot of a couple lattes from an L.A. restaurant called Urth:

The L.A. artist's district has some exciting street art. A couple shots follow.

Both of these shots are of a 60-80' mural by an upcoming artist named Kim West (see my prior blog entry for a further example of her work).

Off to L.A. for a week. Eating Paleo will have its usual on-the-road challenges.

Traveling intent? See family, hang out in the artist's district, have some leisurely lattes at the indescribable coffee shop, Urth, & check out the street art.

The district, by the way, showcases some increasingly intriguing art. Here's an example by Kim West, a rising star in the local scene:

Paleo archeology? Perhaps. At the least, a look at how major civilizations have collapsed repeatedly: The Collapse of Complex Societies by Joseph Tainter.

I'm almost through with this fascinating work which covers 2,000 years of fallen societies, including the Roman, Mayan and Chacoan.

The implications are obvious; the collapses--unimaginable to those who lived in these societies at the time--have been repeated for millennium due to weather-related disasters, food shortages & political chaos.

Highly recommended.

Confession: I do a lot of trail hiking, something like five to six hours a week in varying terrain. I'm in New England, and the soils are stony & riddled with endless, small round boulders. It's post-glacial territory. Consequently even our trails are uncommonly stony.

For hikers, no big deal. But imagine these same trails used by snowshoers or cross country skiers in the winter with a foot of snow down: crunch, grind, ouch.

For years I somewhat prided myself in being able to find the most efficient walking paths between these protrusions. No more. I was suddenly struck by the similarity of jumping these, top to top to top, with the plyometric work I do in the gym. It's the same range of motion & same balancing challenges.

In addition, I give thanks to a MovNat video I watched some weeks ago that showed workshop participants leaping boulders in a small stream. That image danced around in my unconscious for some days until I hit my usual trail network: Voila! Boulders everywhere.

So I began boulder jumping. And jumping. And grinning to myself.