finding salvation in the church of bike

“Yoga is my philosophy, cycling is my religion” —Uma K.

Mt St Helens lahar

Saturday’s Yoga for Cyclists workshop was a great success. So much so I may have enough interest to start doing smaller, ongoing classes at different locations. I’m excited by this. I love sharing yoga with people, and I have a soft spot for cyclists, naturally. I’m still developing the at-home yoga plan to make it easy to do an effective and well-rounded stretching routine for that critical after-ride time. Not only does stretching then last longer and go deeper with less effort, but it just feels damn good. To be continued…

Speaking of feeling damn good, yesterday I decided to revisit the Plains of Abraham on Mount St. Helens. I think regularly attending Church of Bike each week is definitely changing me. Something has shifted, in that before when I’d have a terrible on-the-bike experience (as in pushing the bike more than riding it) I am not so keen to hit that trail again anytime soon. There are plenty of new trails to explore. But that first attempt a month or so ago was not a fair measure of me or the trail. I bonked bigtime, and though I recovered eventually, I felt like at least half of the ride was done in a Twilight Zone-like daze. I could appreciate the Plains of Abraham once we climbed out of Ape Canyon, but it was a stunted appreciation. I couldn’t bring the full measure of my attention to simply noticing, appreciation, being awed.

Yesterday was different. Except for a few switchbacks I misjudged, I rode the whole thing pretty much. It was still a four hour ride because my fitness sucks! But I rode that muther, and I feel redeemed. I managed to drag Cyclepath über wrench and all-around wise-ass funny guy Cody along with me. I ride with a lot of different people… often every week a different crew, and often a big crew. But CX season is upon us and the usuals are all at the races. Ordinarily, I’d be depressed about not racing, but I didn’t think about it once the entire ride…

Cody approaching the landing at the top of the main climb

That competitive streak in me says: Go back. Ride it again. And again. Use the force, Luke. Use it to train and get stronger and faster. Make this ride THE ride by which you measure your progress. But I don’t want bike church to become fitness lab. I don’t want to miss out on laughing with (or at… no, with) Cody, or savoring the last of the wild huckleberries, or pausing to take pictures of friends, or having the luxury of time to stop and sit and savor the scenery, like this:

Trail flanking the volcano-leading East to the plains

Or start to hate my bike instead of feeling like this (I have a permanent theme song playing in my head when I think about how much I love my Titus: I like big bikes and I cannot lie…:

I like big bikes and I can not lie

Bottom line: I could get intense about mountain biking. It’s in my nature to be intense, period. But for now I’d rather just adopt the attitude of Church of Bike and embrace it wholeheartedly. It’s a simple gospel with only one rule: Enjoy the ride.

More photos can be seen here.

just call me “lucky”

Mmmm. Friday. Feels sooooo good… I’m that much closer to DIRT RIDE DAY which is the other definition for Sunday. Sleeping in can wait until I’m too old to ride (which will be never). Although… there is this undeniably crazy desire in me to race Barlow. I love that course. The runup is SICK. But… I can’t. I just can’t. Janky sez no and I’m learning not to argue with Janky the hard way. She ALWAYS wins. So I compromise by doing long slow days in the saddle. Gee. Life’s rough.

I’m behind on the media coz I’ve been busy designing for the studio and I’ve been gorging myself on words lately. Here’s some visual relief from my turgid, bloated prose.

A scene from the conclusion of last Saturday’s ride CCX/road ride with new and old friends, and Super Relax boss lady, Shannon Holt.

My own Super Relax kit is customized, with extra pink. Tsssss …. Hot!

This from my lunch yesterday–a steamed vegetarian yumyum something or other at a noodle shop. The fortune cookie held not one but three fortunes: triple lucky!!! Maybe that should be my new nickname: Lucky. or maybe I will name the Titus Lucky. It has a nice ring. And probably I can use that luck when I am in that high place. Does this mean I’m re-riding Plains of Abraham this weekend? I’ll need more than luck there. And who’s this secret admirer? There’s another question I might like to lean into, if you know what I’m sayin’!

The Tao of Mingus. Just do what, exactly?

Last but not least, be sure to sit back, turn up the speakers and relax with Brian Ellin’s most awesome video of StarCross 2008. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw Cyclocross… I stumbled upon a pro race. I thought it was one of the most elegant things I’d ever seen… A ballet in mud.

Starcrossed Cyclocross 2008 from bce on Vimeo.

assumed identity theft

Turns out someone else has been using “velodevi” as an internet moniker. Bitch. I bet it’s some dingdong who just misspelled VELODEVIL and hasn’t even realized it yet. Bike goddess. That’s what velodevi means. It’s mine dammit. I know it’s just a nickname–an assumed identity of sorts–but it was MINE. And now for various reasons, not the least of which is privacy, I feel I must let it go. I’m pissed off and sad about it, but perhaps it is time…

Sea change, remember?

This morning the velodevi was up early–5am. I’d planned to do an early morning ride with a friend but the friend was sick so I just got up in the dark and headed for the yoga mat. It was so utterly still and quiet that I found myself just sitting silently, meditating for about an hour which is much longer than usual for me. And time after time these thoughts would creep in: Who the f*ck wants to be velodevi, that’s dumb; it’s mine; who cares; shut up; be still; Breitenbush needs promotion; how many people will be at the workshop; shoulda gone to Interbike; who am I going to ride with on Sunday; bitch stole my nickname!; am i gonna do that crazy *ss 40miler with Ecker; i’m hungry; om namah shivaya; my shoulder hurts; did he really mean that thing about “god and country”; can’t wait to get that body armor; armor… armor… armored heart…why do people say i’m too hard i need to be kinder gentler less armored; cultivate sweetness; what if the Hadron Collider really DOES make black holes?; form is emptiness; fuckitall; shhhhh; don’t you wish you’d gone for a ride instead?….

Occasionally there was a juicy, fertile, lush expanse of quiet. Where everything just was and all the good-bad ugly-beautiful me-them inner-outer distinctions dropped away and all that remained was a sweet and simple awareness of being…. And there I was.

As much as I love words, I also love the absence of them.

. . . . .

…”sophisticated metaphors and long-winded wisdom” is how one person recently described my writing. I think he was just pulling my chain. Kind of hard to know for sure. I know some people read my drivel and it gives them…something useful. Others probably read it and are bored to tears, annoyed as hell, or maybe amused because they think I’m full of shit, but like witnessing a train wreck can’t look away. Family and friends read it because… I dunno. Maybe they’re still trying to figure me out.

I say: Don’t bother. I’ll come back to this in a moment.

. . . . .

The world is in very bad shape right now (when’s the last time it wasn’t?). Our economy is in the tank, a majorly scary election is upon us, the banks and every conceivable single market is unstable, et cetera, and these are the times when people historically tend to turn inward, back to spirituality or religion to find meaning, light in the dark, whatever. Maybe that’s why I’m moving back to writing about yoga more… As a teacher of yoga I hold the space for others to find some ease in their own inner turbulence. After all… that’s the literal definition of the practice of yoga: yogas citta vrtti nirodah. Yoga is the calming of the turbulent mind… so that we dwell in the clear reality of Self free from conditioned thinking. Part journal, part instructional manual, part poetry clearinghouse, part sillyness, and part bike fetish, this blog is just another venue for holding space in some ways. In describing my process I imagine it might scare some but it also inspires a few. Meditation is scary stuff sometimes. But there are things to discover through meditation that you just can’t any other way. And after you get past all the mental chatter…

Samadhi. The translation is something akin to “sweetness”.

. . . . .

I could have skipped writing anything today and just posted these words of Lau Tzu from the Tao te Ching:

My teachings are easy to understand
and easy to put into practice.
Yet your intellect will never grasp them,
and if you try to practice them, you’ll fail.

My teachings are older than the world.
How can you grasp their meaning?

If you want to know me,
look inside your heart.

So, yeah. Don’t try to figure me out. Just look within.

Same, same… only different.

slow time in hot water at breitenbush

I do all the marketing at the studio where I teach. I’m constantly updating the website, writing newsletters, creating ads for workshops we have going on. And then I’m terrible about marketing myself and my own workshops and special events. I kind of feel awkward promoting my own classes and workshops. And yet, I know how important it is to put the information ‘out there’. So here it is:

Every fall I head to Breitenbush Hot Springs for my annual Yin Yoga retreat. The practice is actually a combination of vinyasa, yin and meditation. Everyone agrees that the effects of the yoga practice are somehow amplified by the location. Considering that Breitenbush used to be sacred “healing lands” by Native Americans long before European settlers came along, it’s not surprising. There is something uniquely special about being in the deep silence of an old growth forest, cradled by the moss-covered mountains, soaking in hot mineral water, listening to nothing but wind, water and birdsong. Even though there is a schedule (three yoga/meditation sessions a day) time seems to slow, and become very abundant. For myself, I feel that is perhaps the greatest gift of Breitenbush: the gift of slow time.

But seriously, anyone who loves hot springs will find it amazingly restful and restorative. I am completely nuts about hot springs–hot water in general–and I think Breitenbush are some of the cleanest mineral springs in the country. It’s heavenly. The retreat is open to anyone, regardless of yoga experience. You don’t even need to be able to touch your toes. It starts Thursday and ends Sunday afternoon which means you’ll miss a Cross Crusade race if that’s your thing. So I don’t expect to see any of YOU people there. But maybe your sweetheart would like a little “me time” in a special place to recharge the autumn batteries…(hint hint). Three yoga classes a day (attend as many or as few as you wish)… yummy, organic, locally grown vegetarian food…hot springs… miles of trails…quiet…wildlife…toasty warm cabins… fall colors… friendly warm people… and all the time in the world to take a much needed rest… What’s not to like?

Here’s the 411.

And there’s also a weeklong immersion/teacher training in November if you really want to get your yin on.

the god particle: Q&A with uma

EPIC POST ALERT : Grab another coffee now. Or a bourbon. Whatever works.

I had originally written a post back on the 10th about how those bike-centric crazies over in Cern, Switzerland are getting jiggy with particle physics. In a nutshell particle physicists are looking at the behavior of antimatter more closely, and trying to understand the big bang more up-close and personal-like. Skeptics say it’s all a huge waste of time, period, end of discussion. The superstitious say we’re playing with fire, that it’s going to generate a black hole that will suck up everything around it, including the earth itself. The rationals (scientists) just want answers.

Turns out, as of yesterday, not one but several black holes erupted from the Hadron Collider and have killed everyone. At this very moment we’re all dead. Curious that I can still blog from the afterlife… Wow. The internet is so powerful.

. . . . .

Seriously, though, I had decided not to post anything about the Hadron Collider, because what the hell does that have to do with anything cycling related? But after my ride with a certain religious fanatic this weekend (you know who you are), I realized this blog isn’t about anything, anyway. It’s like a freakin’ Seinfeld show. And yet…

There is a center. Stay with me here. Or don’t. I don’t care.

. . . . . .

We human beings are a curious lot. We like to know things. We like to be certain, to have answers. We don’t like hanging out in doubt, uncertainty, mystery. Oh sure, a little mystery is good, exciting, interesting, but to a point. I know for myself I become very anxious when I start to feel like I need an answer to a problem or question and it’s not readily available. I want to hurry the process of discovery, but such a thing can’t be rushed. My personal and professional life have been in a kind of limbo for some time now, and I feel very antsy about it, and I want answers, dammit!

What fascinates me about the intersection of science and spirituality is that both are basically a search for answers. One focuses on the quest for the meaning of life while the other seeks to understand the nature of life itself. And what I dig about yoga is that thousands of years ago the rishis (literally: seers, wise men, sages) were considered religious men and scientists equally. Patanjali himself, who codified yoga for the masses was a Brahman, a grammarian and a physician. These rishi devoted themselves to both science and spirituality with equal vigor. They sought both the meaning of life and understanding of the nature of life.

. . . . .

I guess where I’m going with all this, is in the past couple of weeks I’ve had numerous occasions with several different people to come back to the questions. Pema Chødron advises us to lean into them… These questions. The sharp edges where logical reason and belief intersect. Myself, as a tantrist, I look at the place where the animal body meets the human intellect and the spiritual as my reason for being, my reason for doing, my reason for riding, even my reason for writing. I am not interested in using yoga or spirituality to transcend this human existence. I simply wish to experience–as fully as possible, and in every possible moment–being alive.

. . . . .

New students come to me constantly. They say “I can’t seem to stop. I just want the madness to stop. The endless, repetitive thinking to STOP. I try to meditate but the whole time I meditate I just keep thinking ‘WHY WON’T IT STOP?!”

My answer is simple. Stop trying to make it stop. Be with the questions. Be in the mystery. Let it come. Let it go. I’m not talking about apathy. I’m talking about being unattached. Breathe.

It is not a popular answer. I remember years ago when I started down this path my own teachers telling me the same thing, and thinking: “WTF? No, really…. WTF? ARE YOU F*CKING SERIOUS MOTHERF*CKER DON’T F*CKING F*CK WITH ME.”

God (or particle physics) help me… I even think like a sailor.

. . . . . .

Lately I have been getting many indications that a sea change is in order. My work at the studio is changing, I am doing more individual work with private clients, and starting to think about working with institutions that want to create change (prisons, shelters, political parties, etc). I am being approached by numerous publishers who like what this lame-ass blog of mine has to say and want more… For publication! And no, they are not bike p-o-r-n websites. I have been talking about traveling, writing, etc, for a long time, and putting it off until I found a compatible partner with which to travel, but… Why wait? Life is short, right? Unlike my Sanskrit namesake, I think my waiting days are over. This Uma is ready to get the party started, but more questions arise: What’s next?

Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical.

In essence I wish to be the quintessential amateur: motivated to do everything out of love. Now the real six million dollar question is: What is love? Questions, questions, leaning, leaning…

. . . . .

I don’t know much, but at least I can take my own advice, and lean into the mystery. What’s next? This breath. If you’re lucky. Simple.

. . . . .

Rumi again:
Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.
I’ll meet you there.

So wherever “there” is, I’ll probably be on my Titus because I enjoy it the most, and I’ll probably be listening to something like this about Black Holes on my iPod and pondering this “god particle” quantum physics stuff.

See. Told you there’s a center.

trials and tribulations

This from the night ride on Monday with jbuck and Corndog. Played around at the Saltzmann/Leif intersection with some funky trials stuff. Although no Umas were harmed in the making of this night ride, body armor is needed. Night riding is fun

poetry in motion

The Sweetness Crusade continues:

Had a sweet MTB ride today. For once, I don’t want to talk about it, other than to say it was pretty damn near perfect on a whole lotta levels. It felt (at times) like poetry in motion. My riding partner was sweet too, and fun.

. . . . .

Other things are happening in the world. Take heart.

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I’ve posted Anis’ work before, but this is still one of my most favorite collections of his works. Turn it up, and rock the f*ck out.