Machines

Dearest, note how these two are alike;
This harpsichord pavane by Purcell
And the racer’s twelve-speed bike.

The machinery of grace is always simple.
This chrome trapezoid, one wheel connected
To another of concentric gears,
Which Ptolemy dreamt of and Schwinn perfected,
Is gone. The cyclist, not the cycle, steers.
And in the playing, Purcell’s chords are played away.

So this talk, or touch if I were there,
Should work its effortless gadgetry of love,
Like Dante’s heaven, and melt into the air.

If it doesn’t, of course, I’ve fallen. So much is chance,
So much agility, desire, and feverish care,
As bicyclists and harpsicordists prove

Who only by moving can balance,
Only by balancing move.

Michael Donaghy

CultFit Serene


The Kindness of Others

...
The kindness of others
is all they ever wanted,
the laughter of neighbors
prospering in the blue light of summer.

Those of the small sputtering flame
and the sudden white sprung hair,
who feed off envy and grow old quickly,
desire largesse.

The role of poor relation
evokes a lack
they are not apt to admit,
or unbearable pity.

They prefer to penetrate the giver’s
effortless knack of giving
they perceive as vitality,
a pulsating entity

that rewards the kindness of others
tenfold.
This they have witnessed.
This they have tabulated relentlessly.

The generosity of others
whose spirits, like their long-legged
children blossoming into a progeny
of orchards and fields, flourish.

Those who have never known kindness
drag into the privacy of their smallness
the baskets of fruit
appearing year after year on their porches,

to be picked apart
in the hushed posture of thieves.
They peel skin, probe flesh
the color of honey

as if the seeds will yield something
other than a glimmer of sweet air
rising from the roots of trees
and licorice-laced, half-opened leaves.

Those of the small flame,
who feed off envy and grow old quickly,
live out their lives
hungry,

glaring at themselves across the table,
wife of the cruel mouth,
husband of the thin broth
trickling like spittle.

- Cathy Song

Cultfit Here

Hornear con CultFit

A true genius admits that he/she knows nothing-

I remember the events as though they happened yesterday afternoon I was confident that healing my battered body would be easy and competing at a high level once again would be a cinch, but then, I tried myself once again. I thought of myself as impervious to illness and injury, but then I destroyed my back and ruined my 35-year-old knee. I believed that I had put these injuries behind me, then recently I experienced a painful event like so many that happened in the past. Injuries and setbacks can be humbling experiences, if we listen and pay attention to them.

Humble Pie” is as good for your body and soul, more so than organic food, yoga, riding a uni-cycle and running at 6am. Do you feel like discussing humility in the most positive sense this morning? The self-effacing, not self-abasing sense? If so please leave a comment below

Notes:

Real folks, real passionate – authentic folks (the exact opposite of fitspiration) find it challenging to shed a few pounds in a healthy manner, learning to quit abusing their bodies is even harder. I thought it would be easy because of this “thing” called willpower, the very same willpower that kept my broke ass – well broke, for so many years.

If your ego has been damaged by the setback(s) life likes to serves our way, a little “Humble Pie” may serve as a more preferable flavour …  

Be well and please take care!

CultFit Broke


He was the kind

of young man whose handsome face has brought him plenty of success in the past and is now ever-ready for a new encounter, a fresh-experience, always eager to set off into the unknown territory of a little adventure, never taken by surprise because he has worked out everything in advance and is waiting to see what happens, a man who will never overlook any erotic opportunity, whose first glance probes every woman’s sensuality, and explores it, without discriminating between his friend’s wife and the parlour-maid who opens the door to him. Such men are described with a certain facile contempt as lady-killers, but the term has a nugget of truthful observation in it, for in fact all the passionate instincts of the chase are present in their ceaseless vigilance: the stalking of the prey, the excitement and mental cruelty of the kill. They are constantly on the alert, always ready and willing to follow the trail of an adventure to the very edge of the abyss. They are full of passion all the time, but it is the passion of a gambler rather than a lover, cold, calculating and dangerous. Some are so persistent that their whole lives, long after their youth is spent, are made an eternal adventure by this expectation. Each of their days is resolved into hundreds of small sensual experiences – a look exchanged in passing, a fleeting smile, knees brushing together as a couple sit opposite each other – and the year, in its own turn, dissolves into hundreds of such days in which sensuous experience is the constantly flowing, nourishing, inspiring source of life.
Stefan Zweig, The Burning Secret and other stories

CultFit Blur


Illusion(s)

Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before-

Do you find it difficult to resist temptation related to physical endeavors?

Picture the difference between wanting to run a 2:30:00 marathon and not being able to finish one (runners are easily stirred up. If you like, pick something that resonates with you). Now imagine a plyo-band stretched between you and the “thing” you want to achieve, pulling evenly on you, drawing you close. We have a hard time staying in tension and resisting the pull. So we do things: we purchase the latest running gadgets, try new activities the day before an event to release the ever-growing tension.

The image I am trying to paint for you is that once we release the tension, we feel better.

However, out here in the real world? Reality is markedly different. Sure for a few fleeting moments we feel better … Then the morning of the event arrives and in a flash, second guessing creeps in, doubt shows up alongside you and we go back to feeling the same as before. Welcome my friends to the Hedonic Treadmill.

We relentlessly pursue things and experiences that we think will make us happier. But once we acquire them, we quickly return to our previous level of happiness. Then we start looking for the next latest and greatest “thing 5k-10k-1/2 Marathon-Marathon-Triathalon-Ultra events The sweet new Felt carbon-fiber tri bike you’ve been lusting after? The first time you sling your leg over the top tube feels like good sex. You’ve  dreamed of this moment all season long. Although, 128 miles later the bike feels like every other bike you’ve ever owned, saddle sore and all. What better time to start lusting after another new bike, another gadget. The Hedonic Treadmill patiently awaits your arrival

Notes:

When I work with folks away from this rambling blogging thing, I lament, nauseously about building tension. Breathing, muscle activation and willpower? What? Willpower … Willpower is mastering tension not always getting what we want, when we want it, releasing the tension we have patiently building.

Creating tension is a beautiful and empowering process, embrace it and be well today.

CultFit Chains