Musings

I know that I promised an exciting article about the book "Born to Run" but since I bought it on Barnes & Noble.com, somehow downloaded it to my ipod, and now lost it, I have not been able to finish listening to it. Technology and me, grr. We do not get along.

Besides, I have so many other insights that come from ME and not from someone else's book, so if you really want to know what is so great about "Born to Run" go buy yourself a copy for goodness sake. (Or just wait until I get around to posting my thoughts on it...)

On Sunday, I went to a Yoga for Runners workshop. It was with my favorite yoga instructor and was fun for several reasons:

1. the actual amount of yoga done was extremely limited
2. everyone in the room was a runner and not a yogi, so it was noisy, fun, and no one was really able to do anything correctly the first time.
3. because the room was full of people who had probably never done yoga before, I felt very accomplished in my own yoga history.

The stretches were runner-centric and made us all feel like it was okay to have tight hamstrings.

But...OK. I'm totally going to bring it some anecdotes from the book. In "Born to Run," there is a line that sticks in my brain - you don't need to do yoga. You don't even need to STRETCH AT ALL to become a better, faster runner.

CAN WE ALL JUST TAKE A MOMENT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT I HAVE BEEN SAYING THIS ALL ALONG?????

Now, let's try to decide who is right. My favorite yoga instructor, who I really like and respect, kept talking about the benefits of stretching and even brought out a skeleton to illustrate her points on why muscles that are connected can cause great injury if you treat them badly. And I totally get that. I totally understand the explanation but my body does not respond well to stretching. Yesterday I went running less than 24 hours after the yoga class and felt MORE TIGHT than I had in weeks.

I mean, maybe there is something to be said for constant yoga and stretching, but I still just can't get behind it. I can't find the drive to do that. The whole time, it's just a constant hum in my brain: "I'd rather be running."