This photo was taken during my van’s second-to-last leg of the Ragnar Relay Great River. We had pulled over to cheer for Gary, during his longest leg of the race, and right at a spot where there was a beautiful field of not-so-wild flowers. It had to be a vendor at the St. Paul Farmer’s Market, with all those cosmos and dahlia! So lovely.
What strikes me about this photo is how well the fog and the dew epitomizes that particular moment and the whole race, for that matter: full of moisture. That whole 27.5 hours and 193 miles was full of water: it was so, so hot and humid, and we were running fast through it, so we had to keep pouring water and electrolyte drinks down our throats and on our steamy heads.
I returned to my yoga practice, aside from a few stretches here and there, several evenings later. The main sensation and word that pervaded and followed that hour of asana and candlelight was “drink.” I wasn’t particularly thirsty for water, but evidently my body was longing, or even burning for oxygen, energy, and mindful movement. Every breath seemed to fill empty-feeling areas; every stretch felt long overdue. Well, regarding the latter, it was: I’d taken several days off from any activity. Nevertheless, I’ve rarely so felt the definition of a word, as I felt “drink,” that evening.
Methinks my yoga training is sinking in.