Biker Chick

If you’re planning a trip to Boulder, Colorado, you’ve certainly added “visit Chataqua park” to your itinerary. First of all, you could have streamlined that to say “Chataqua,” I’m not sure why you felt the need to make that a wordier task. Sorry, I will stop poking fun at your imaginary itinerary-planning skills (or lack thereof?).

Lately, Chataqua has become even more of a messy conglomeration of tourists than it was before. The main trails have been under construction LITERALLY forever (that’s not being dramatic at all), you now have to pay to park, and this morning I saw that they’ve added a photo booth. Sheesh. I go to Chataqua not for the hike; I go to free solo climb the second flatiron (to sum up “free solo”- it’s climbing without a harness or ropes). Honestly, the hike to get to the base of the slab is the pesky part.

 

Because of the whole “pay for parking” situation (yeah, as IF I would drop a dime on that!), I have started riding my bike to Chataqua. Actually, ever since my shoulder injury mentioned in the past few posts (catch up if you haven’t read them yet. I’ll wait, and even include a page break so that it seems as if I actually waited), I have been biking as a primary means of transportation.

That was the page break that I requested be included on your behalf. You’re welcome. Alright, so back to the meat of this post. Yum, meat, maybe it’s time for a burger break? Do you see why I have issues just sitting down and writing? Because of my increase in biking activity, I am trying to be an overall less awkward biker. Whenever someone passes me (which gives you an idea of how speedy I am), they usually shout out “passing on your left!” (or, passing on your right!), and my first reaction is to move to the side they announce, which thankfully hasn’t led to any collisions yet, and then I awkwardly feel the need to respond, so I yell “ok, sounds good!” which is completely unnecessary.

 

I’ve always found there to be “looks” that bikers exchange with other bikers, drivers, walkers, runners, etc. One of the looks is a look exchanged between bikers biking uphill and drivers passing them or driving downhill in the opposite direction. I used to give the sympathetic look to uphill bikers as a driver- like “aww, it really sucks that you are biking up that horrible hill, but I am sitting in my nice air-conditioned car and thus am unable to feel your pain, but I guess I am sorry you are in pain.” As bikers exchanging looks, it’s some serious empathy. Like, “yo fellow biker, I LITERALLY know EXACTLY how you feel; I just did that horrendous climb, but be motivated by the knowledge that soon, you will be flying downhill just as I am now.” The other is just the look of irritation that drivers give bikers and pedestrians, the one that says “how DARE you make me wait for another light cycle!” as they throw up their arms in indignation. Ironically, when that same driver is a pedestrian or biker, he or she is frustrated by drivers, thinking “how DARE you make me wait for another light cycle!” as they throw up their arms in indignation.

I decided to share the bike-related thoughts rattling around in my brain today, because it is Bike to Work day. I biked to work (because, once again, bike to work day!) basically one million miles (again, no drama here), and stopped at a few breakfast stations en route. I got a bunch of free bike gear from Nite Ize, who also gave me fruit and a Clif Bar, but they lacked coffee which I got later, ironically, at the tea factory Celestial Seasonings. Then I got to work drenched in sweat, which was fine because we are a bunch of fitness fanatics spending the majority of our time in workout garb. I don't have any kind of concluding thoughts for this blog so.... the end? 

 

The Most Boulder Thing

It takes awhile before I can see the humor in something "horrible" that happens in my life. I'm trying to shorten the duration between the event and my ability to laugh at it, however, and I'm doing so in a couple of ways. First, while the unfortunate instance is happening in real time, I remind myself that it will make a good story later. Second, I force myself to talk about these events and write them down. Which is exactly what I'm about to do.

So, first a little bit of background information is necessary. One of my yoga teacher friends sells these things called sanlakpas which are single gemstones that you secure around your neck with a string tied together. The knot is then sealed with superglue, as it is meant to remain in place until it naturally falls off. You are supposed to come up with an intention represented by the gem. While you wear the sankalpa, you embark on your journey to fulfill the intention it represents. Yes, it is exactly what you would expect a yoga teacher to sell.

Being the indecisive human being that I am, I struggled to decide between three stones- labradorite, rose quartz, and garnet. I saw a picture on my friend's website where someone was wearing three which made me realize that I don't even HAVE to decide. I got all three, and before each one was tied on I was led through this little ceremony to seal the intention into the sankalpa. I know.

These babies aren't going anywhere

I've been wearing them for about a month, and have gotten completely accustomed to their presence. To be honest, I would feel a bit naked without them around my neck. I feel comforted when I reach up and touch them. I had almost entirely forgotten that they were there when I went to the imaging department and the medical center for X-rays when I injured my shoulder.

The X-ray technician asked me the typical questions while strapping on the vest thing that supposedly blocks out some of the radiation, like wether or not I was knocked up and whether I was positive that it was my right shoulder that I injured. She then saw the stones around my neck and told me I needed to take off my necklaces. The look on her face as I told her that I couldn't because they were secured with superglue was priceless. I suppose the majority of people would have ripped the sankalpas off or requested scissors to do so, but I felt that the journey of my intentions were not yet fulfilled. I explained that it was a yoga thing and told her I wouldn't remove them. She heaved a sigh, said it was "the most Boulder thing" she'd ever heard, and asked me if I could fit them in my mouth (giggity). She definitely enjoyed watching me struggle to do so, but I'm sure I would have done the same if I were her.

So for a good twenty minutes or so I had three gemstones in my mouth, secured with my lips, because I believed that they had more work to do in my life. Which is one of the most Boulder things I've ever done.

Biker Chick

I must admit I never thought the above term would ever describe me in a million years. I enjoyed biking as a child, sure, and it helped me get to class when running late in college (though I was certainly a hazard to any pedestrians on campus, I'm a bit of a spazz on a bike). However, I never saw myself as someone who uses a bike as my primary mode of transportation. Over the past few weeks, I have discovered that biking is not only a blast and a great way to get around, but also something I am intensely passionate about. If I'd started biking earlier in life, maybe I could have been the female, drug-free and honest version of Lance Armstrong. I'd use a different comparison but I don't know the names of any other bikers.

I love biking because it feels like you are part of a community, at least here in Boulder. Bikers are all over the place due to the accessibility of getting around cycling. I was shocked that in construction zones, there are even bike lanes made of cones. I feel like that wouldn't happen anywhere else. Anyhow, I feel like us biker folk have a connection amongst each other that only other bikers would understand. For example, when a car completely blocks a crosswalk, we sometimes give each other an annoyed look to demonstrate our shared frustration. Bikers, in my experience, have been quite friendly in general, their kindness shown with a nod, smile, or other similar gesture upon passing.

So...much...community!

 Yes, I adore biking. I have already learned heaps about bicycles as well. For instance, my seat was far too low for far too long, and I learned that keeping the seat too low isolates certain leg muscles while pedaling whereas a higher seat promotes the unison of various muscle groups.

I've also learned that I am one of those bikers that really irritates drivers. When I drive, I feel on edge all the time about bikers and the swift, often unpredictable moves they make. Like, is this dude going to last minute switch from the bike lane into my turn lane? Probably. But you NEVER know! And I see how frustrating that can be from both sides. As a biker, I feel jazzed that we have so many "traffic rights," if you will. I already mentioned the cone lanes, and it seems like there is a never ending number of "yield to bike" signs. It's like, as bikes, we always win! As we should- it takes a lot of preparation and leg muscle to make biking all over a functional practice.

Let's all bike together!

Maybe we should all just get rid of cars and switch back ro bikes. Yeah... it must be obvious now that I haven't yet biked in the winter... 

This DOES look awful...

Boulder and D.C. Couldn't Be More Different

Differences between the D.C. area and Boulder, CO:

1) "Recycling" is not a familiar term to inhabitants of the nation's capital. Whereas those who do not compost are generally subject to scrutiny form the environmentalists comprising Boulder's population, I'd bet that the majority of D.C. residents do not even know what composting is, nor have the option to do so.

Yeah... you're not getting these options in D.C. 

2) There is this crazy thing called "diversity" in D.C. as opposed to in Boulder where everyone is a slightly different shade of white. Pale white, slight olive-hued but still white skin, white with freckles...Here, I am often the only Caucasian on the bus or in a restaurant or in the gym and I love it. Variety is the spice of life, after all.

This is diversity in Boulder... I guess the guy in the front is slightly tan?

3) Sidewalks randomly end. It is seriously perturbing, especially for runners like me. There seems to be no rhyme or reason as to why they end, but right when you least expect it, the sidewalk just disappears, perhaps into some other dimension comprised entirely of the last portions of D.C. and Northern Virginia sidewalks.

That looks about right... 

4) Gluten free? Dairy free? Huh?? I've sporadically seen some gluten free items along the shelves of markets here, but asking for dairy free in a restaurant receives an eyebrow raise from the waiter and a completely baffled look. Chances are, if they say it is a dairy-free dish, you're probably going to get some anyway.



5) Pedestrians beware! In Boulder, anyone traveling on foot can basically step in front of an 18-wheeler without even glancing both ways and the truck will come to a screeching halt. Here, a pedestrian can be mid-intersection DURING a WALK SIGNAL and still provoke honk after honk from angry cars trying to turn right and having to wait a whole ten seconds for someone to cross the street. You could easily get struck by a car and it would not be a big surprise to anyone. 

Clique-y Yoga

About a year ago, I would have told time travelers from 2012 informing me of my future yoga-doing, kale-eating self, I would have told them to take a hike to the nearest time machine mechanic, since theirs seemed to have brought them from an alternate universe where I was super hippie. I also would most likely have punched them in the face as they had offended me so deeply.

Then, when I had to chance to try Bikram yoga for free last July, I became instantly ensnared past the point of no return. As free yoga was one of my employment benefits (gotta love L.A.), I completely took for granted the fact that this particular type of elitist yoga cost around $185 per month. Upon returning to Colorado, unemployment forced me to get a bit creative and do something drastic in order to continue practicing yoga. I even recognized that the scant amount of Bikram yoga studios in Boulder and its immediate surroundings would force me to try out *gasp* different styles of yoga! Shocking!

When I first betrayed my beloved Bikram yoga to take advantage of CorePower Yoga's free trial week, I felt a bit guilty. I always knew of the animosity bubbling between Bikram yoga and other styles of hot yoga which allegedly copied Bikram in its entirety but were mere greedy wannabes. So i couldn't have felt more out-of-place when I sheepishly entered CorePower wearing my Bikram Yoga Marina del Rey shirt. It actually felt a little West Side Story. When the CorePower yogis eyed my Bikram shirt disapprovingly, I half expected all of us to smart snapping and circling each other Sharks vs. Jets style prior to breaking out into a spontaneous musical number.

Yet as much as I didn't want to, I completely loved what CorePower had to offer. I was wrong in my characterization of the Sharks and the Jets, however; after attending another Bulder yoga studio, Radiance Yoga (where they teach Batiste-style yoga), my mind formulated a new and more accurate analogy. I realized that yoga studios are more like high school cliques. CorePower is the jock clique, as they are definitely the most popular, nation-wide studio bullying smaller studios in the hallway. However, they are really cool to hang out with so people like them anyways. Radiance Yoga is the clique of girls desperately trying to be popular but aren't quite there yet. By that I mean they will adapt their personalities according to who they are hanging out with and try to please everyone. Radiance Yoga doesn't kick their participants butts for the sake of giving them an awesome workout- rather, they basically let members do whatever they want to feel good about themselves.

Bikram is a weird case in this analogy. Bikram yoga is that cool, elusive kid that wears a lot of black and hangs out by himself or just a couple of other equally elusive kids. Bikram sort of slinks in the shadows of the hallway and that aura of mystery emanates the kind of "cool" that high school kids want to be associated with. Hence why other studios copy Bikram yoga.

Wow, that was one elaborate analogy, Marisa...