View allAll Photos Tagged Hamstring
taken in 99. 35mm. scanned recently.
+++++
In the Dalai Lama’s Tibet, torture and mutilation—including eye gouging, the pulling out of tongues, hamstringing, and amputation—were favored punishments inflicted upon runaway serfs and thieves. Journeying through Tibet in the 1960s, Stuart and Roma Gelder interviewed a former serf, Tsereh Wang Tuei, who had stolen two sheep belonging to a monastery. For this he had both his eyes gouged out and his hand mutilated beyond use. He explains that he no longer is a Buddhist: “When a holy lama told them to blind me I thought there was no good in religion.” Since it was against Buddhist teachings to take human life, some offenders were severely lashed and then “left to God” in the freezing night to die. “The parallels between Tibet and medieval Europe are striking,” concludes Tom Grunfeld in his book on Tibet
Magnetic Resonance Imaging (MRI) of my left knee, pathology noted. I tore my anterior cruciate ligament skiing on March 18th, these images (in the form of digital stacks) were captured on March 24th, I didn't get the diagnosis until March 29th, and then underwent surgery to reconstruct the ACL on April 4th. Good times.
(Left) Bone bruising--an extreme valgus (inward twisting) force of the knee resulted in impact between the posterior-lateral part of the tibia and anterior-lateral part of the femur. Fluid infiltration, or bruising, in the bones shows up as those encircled diffuse white clouds. Arthroscopic examination during the surgery revealed no cartilage damage. While bone bruising is a common concomitant observation in ACL injuries, the consequences of it, if any, are unclear.
(Right) MRI slice depicting part of the ruptured ACL. An intact ligament shows up as solid black. My ACL shows up as gray and swirly throughout this and adjacent MRI slices.
Interestingly, torn medial collateral ligaments (MCLs) can heal themselves, but not ACLs because of the curious properties of the intra-articular environment that prevents platelet aggregation on the damaged ligament and the resultant secretion of growth hormones necessary to promote the initial healing process. Efforts to repair a torn ACL by suturing the severed ends result in a 40% re-rupturing rate. Thus, an ACL must be reconstructed using a graft, either from one's own tissues (patellar tendon, hamstring tendon or quadricep thing) or a cadaver (Achille's, hamstring or patellar tendon).
Self, or autografts, are much more resilient than cadaver grafts, heal faster, and have a lower failure rate. This, I am presuming is because cadaver grafts must be UV irradiated to kill potential contaminating viruses (HIV, hepatitis C, etc.), and further processed to remove all cellular material which would otherwise cause one's body to mount an immune response against the graft and reject it; plus, it's subsequently frozen for storage, and then later thawed for the surgery.
[Update, 07/26/2012]
One thing to take into consideration when choosing to utilize a self or "autograft" is the donor site morbidity. In other words, wherever they extract the graft from, that is another thing that must heal. The physical rehabilitation of the knee and the donor site is a factor to take into consideration. Functionally, extraction of the patellar tendon graft often results in imbalance in the kneecap tracking, leading to patellofemoral pain and knee irritation/inflammation from increased use. The patellar tendon also takes time to heal and can be prone to tendinitis (jumper's knee). These two factors, which alter the patella tracking, in the long term, also contribute to the development of osteoarthritis of the knee cap.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
Thompson Track, Te Aroha
It started as a couple of hour ride up from Te Aroha and turned into a 2 day bush bash in mud and rain.
The bikes were a Gas Gas 700SM, Honda CRF300 Adventure and my Montesa 4Ride.
The rough road up to the summit was pretty easy for all of us. Big rocks and potholes on a clay bed but no real problem. That took about 25 minutes.
Then I found a track going down the other side and we decided to follow it.
Within 500 metres was the first slip; that should have warned us off but no, we soldiered on...........and on and on a on! For hours we battled bogs, bush slips and trees.
Finally, we decided we were not going to make Katikati on the other side. The bogs were too big and the GasGas and Honda too heavy.
We turned around and started back up but the rain set in and made it harder.
We decided to leave the two heavy bikes behind and come back the next day for them. Between the three of us, we rode and hauled the little Montesa 4Ride 260cc trials based bike to the top and I rode on down to get help. On the way down, I lost the front wheel on a slippery rock, fell and tore my hamstring. It was a lot of pain but I got up and rode on.
I found a couple in town with a double cab ute who agreed to come with me to the base of the trail so we could drive the other two back to town; they finally walked out around midnight!
The next day we went back to get the bikes left behind.
I waited at the bottom with my torn hammy and acted as the emergency system just in case. The other two took my Montesa back up to cut 2-3 hours off their walk then walked into the bush to rescue the other bikes with a winch, folding spade and tree saw.
2 expert hard enduro racers had contacted me offering help so I said yes please!
They turned up abpout 2.30pm and rode in to help. Then half an hour later, 2 more riders turned up to help.
The 2nd two riders didn't go far enough to find the others and came back. They'd seen my Montesa just over the top but that was all.
By 6pm I was getting worried and ready to call emergency services (the boys had a satelite rescue device so I knew they may have set that off).
They hadn't and, just before I called emergency; they all came back down some 5 hours after entering. Our 2-3 hour adventure ride had turned into a 2 day balls out test of skill, endurance and planning. On the way up, we didn't just ride, we stopped and planned our way through every obstacle.
Nobody was hurt at all until I fell off on the way down in the rain and we all had wet weather gear and plenty of spring water.
Staying in the bush for the night would have been cold but not a life or death issue.
What a ride! What an experience a what a great bunch of people Kiwis are to drop everything, drive hundreds of km with bikes on the back to help us!
David Jonathan Drew (born November 20, 1975 in Valdosta, Georgia) is a Major League Baseball right fielder for the Boston Red Sox. He is a left-handed hitter, and began his major league career in 1998 with the St. Louis Cardinals.
College
Drew attended Florida State University, where he played under head coach Mike Martin. At Florida State, he was the winner of the 1997 Dick Howser Trophy, the 1997 Golden Spikes Award, and was named the 1997 Collegiate Baseball Player of the Year, the 1997 Sporting News Player of the Year, and was a consensus All-American (1997). He also was named the 1997 ACC Player of the Year. He was a 1996 member of Team USA. Drew was First Team in 1996, Freshman All-American in 1995 and was named to the College World Series All Tournament Team in 1995. He was the first player in college baseball history to hit 30 home runs and steal 30 bases in the same season. He set a Florida State record by batting .455 in 1997 while managing to become one of only three players in college baseball history to have 100 hits, 100 runs and 100 RBI. During his college career, Drew broke 17 school and conference records.
[edit] Professional career
[edit] 1997: Drafted by the Philadelphia Phillies
Drew was the second overall pick in the 1997 Major League Baseball Draft by the Philadelphia Phillies. Drew and his agent Scott Boras elected not to sign with the Phillies, sticking to their guarantee that they would not sign for less than $10 million. The Phillies had no plan to pay an unproven player this amount of money, and despite Boras' warnings, drafted Drew nonetheless. Consequently, Drew ended up playing for the St. Paul Saints of the independent Northern League.
[edit] 1998-2003: St. Louis Cardinals
After playing for St. Paul in the 1997 season, Drew was selected fifth overall in 1998 by the St. Louis Cardinals. He signed a contract and blew through the minor leagues, hitting .316 through 26 games with the Triple-A Memphis Redbirds. He was called to the big club with the rest of the 40-man roster and made his debut on September 8, 1998, the night Mark McGwire broke Roger Maris's single-season home run record. His first at bat, in the 6th inning, ended in a strikeout, and he finished the night 0-for-2. He would heat up, however, going 15-for-36 (.417) during 1998 with five home runs.
On August 10, 1999, in Drew's first appearance at Veterans Stadium in Philadelphia, he was booed loudly, and even had "D" batteries thrown at him by two fans.[1] Drew struggled to stay healthy, landing on the disabled list every season he played in St. Louis.
Also, St. Louis manager Tony La Russa apparently had concerns about Drew's effort. In his book Three Nights in August, Buzz Bissinger mentions La Russa's frustration with Drew's lack of passion. La Russa tells Bissinger that it seems Drew has decided to "settle for 75%" of his talent, in large part because of his enormous contract.[2]
[edit] 2004: Atlanta Braves
Drew was traded to the Atlanta Braves in December 2003, where he had the best season of his career while finally managing to stay healthy. In 2004, he displayed excellent power, patience, and defense hitting .305 with 31 home runs, 118 walks, and 96 RBI, finishing 6th in the MVP voting.
[edit] 2005-2006: Los Angeles Dodgers
In December 2004, Drew signed a five-year, $55 million dollar contract with the Los Angeles Dodgers, which included an escape clause after the second year. Roughly halfway through the 2005 season, Drew's season was again cut short after being hit on the wrist by a pitch from Arizona Diamondbacks' pitcher Brad Halsey.
On September 18, 2006, Drew was part of only the fourth ever set of back-to-back-to-back-to-back home runs with fellow Dodgers Jeff Kent, Russell Martin, and Marlon Anderson.
In 2006, Drew exercised his contract option clause, forgoing $33 million over the next 3 years to become a free agent. The Dodgers' General Manager Ned Colletti said in a teleconference that he was "surprised how it came down. Everything we had heard, everything that had been written led us to believe the player loved being here."[3] This was especially a surprise since a few days before, Drew had told an LA Times columnist on how happy he was in LA and that he was looking forward to the upcoming 2007 season.
[edit] 2007-2008: Boston Red Sox
On January 25, 2007, Drew officially signed a five-year contract with the Red Sox worth $70 million. Drew's revised contract has a clause that allows the Red Sox to opt out of Drew's five year contract after three or four years if Drew has extensive injuries due to a previously existing problem in his right shoulder.
For most of the 2007 season, Drew struggled offensively and spent time on the DL (due to a hamstring injury) as well as taking time off from the team to attend to his son's health. Many questioned the value of his large salary due to his mediocre numbers and ordinary defense, but results began to come late into the season, allowing him to bring some confidence into the post-season. During the early part of the season, Drew was again part of a set of four consecutive home runs on April 22, 2007, in a game against the New York Yankees, this time joining with Manny Ramírez, Mike Lowell, and Jason Varitek. He is the only player to participate twice in a string of four straight home runs, and, oddly enough, he was the second player to go deep in each instance. Drew finished the 2007 season with a .270 batting average, 11 homers, and 64 RBI.[4]
On October 20, 2007, Drew hit a grand slam in Game 6 of the 2007 ALCS with the Red Sox facing elimination. The home run, along with brother Stephen Drew's for the Arizona Diamondbacks, marks the third time that two brothers have both hit home runs in the same postseason.
So far in 2008, Drew has improved his offensive resume dramatically. Through June 12, he has a .324 average, with an OBP of .430 and a slugging percentage of .562.[5] At the end of June, Drew was named the AL Player of the Month after hitting .337 and hitting 12 home runs while taking over for David Ortiz's three-spot in the lineup while he was on the disabled list. [6] Drew was officially announced as an A.L. All-Star reserve on July 6th. This was Drew's first All-Star game appearance. He hit a 2-run homer in his first at-bat as an All-Star en route to winning the All-Star Game MVP Award. In what was to become the longest All-Star Game time-wise in MLB history, the American League (and Drew's Red Sox) Manager Terry Francona, having almost run out of pitchers, contemplated putting Drew, a former high school hurler, on the mound to close the game. "I'd have been ready," Drew said. "I've had an opportunity to throw a lot in the outfield. I don't know if I would have gotten anyone out, but I'd have thrown something up there."[7]
[edit] Public image
Drew has been criticized by fans and the media for his perceived lack of effort, leading to nicknames such as "D.L. Drew," "J.D. Boo" or "Nancy Drew".[8] However, since teammate David Ortiz was placed on the disabled list in May 31st of the 2008 season, Drew has been playing remarkably, earning the Boston Globe's praise as "a five-tools player with an uncanny batting eye, a swing sweeter than butter, and long, measured strides that eat up great chunks of real estate, whether running the bases or tracking down fly balls." [9]
[edit] Personal
* Drew's younger brother, Tim, was also drafted in the first round in 1997, making them the first brothers drafted in the first round of the Major League Baseball Draft in the same year.
* J.D., Tim, and their brother Stephen have all been on MLB rosters. Tim was last with the Atlanta Braves and Stephen is currently a shortstop with the Arizona Diamondbacks.
* J.D. married his wife, Sheigh, on November 10, 2001, in Hahira, Georgia. They have a son, Jack David, born on February 19, 2006, and a daughter, Ella, born on November 7, 2007.
* Drew identifies himself as a Christian. [10]
* Drew is identified by others as a redneck.
Padahastasana - Hand-to-Feet Pose (september 2013
Benefits:
The entire body is flexed and thus it is good for the overall exercise of the shoulders, neck, chest, abdomen, waist, thighs and knees.
It helps strengthen the hamstrings.
The pose gets the buttocks toned.
Ligaments and tendons of the entire legs get stretched.
Sciatic nerves get pulled. — at Bikram Yoga Athlone.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
Warrior 1 - sunshine on the chest, knowing winter will be over soon! All the warrior postures standing poses challenge and strengthen, increasing endurance and stamina, lengthen the hamstrings, release tightness in the chest and heart area. Practice this pose anywhere you have a few moments and the space to step into the pose, focus on mindful breathing and being present. Repeat on both sides of the body.
Triangle / Trikonasana-- the body creates a series of triangle shapes--stretches the upper and lower body; lengthens the hamstrings and sides of the torso; strengthens the legs, opens the hips as well as the shoulders, increases focus; gaze "Drishti" is upwards. Practice this posture on both sides of the body. The practice of this pose strengthens, grounds, and increases focus & stamina. Hold pose for 6-12 breaths on each side; repeat.
Morning yoga is energizing as well as calming. It will set the tone for the rest of your day. It was a great week of fun, relaxation, running, yoga, reading, family and friends, but I have missed you. Looking forward to many yoga practices together this week. Photo taken by Charles Wills at Lake Champlain at sunrise, 5:30 AM.
Name: Master Sgt. Christopher Aguilera
Age: 37
Hometown: El Paso, Texas
Current residence: Las Vegas, Nev.
Years in service: 18
Injury/disability: In a 2010 helicopter crash in Afghanistan, he sustained a broken ankle, back, collarbone, hip, jaw, sternum, punctured lung and left upper hamstring, burns over 20 percent of his body, and traumatic brain injury.
Sport/sports: Shooting, track and field, wheelchair basketball and sitting volleyball
What do the Warrior Games mean to you?
To me, it’s the camaraderie between fellow wounded warriors and holding each other up for one common goal.
What motivated you to try out for the Air Force Warrior Games team?
It’s being able to return to my new 100 percent and my friends and family.
(U.S. Air Force photo by Tech. Sgt. Bennie J. Davis III)
Vacation workout at Ocean Isle Beach, NC April 2011 with Myosource Kinetic Bands. Visit www.myosource.com for more information.
fitnessweightlosscenter.com - Squat Exercise | Leg Workouts - The squat exercise, or as most people refer to it as
"squats", is probably the best single workout you can do for your legs. Squats workout your quadriceps, hamstrings and all the other muscles in your legs. You will get the most out of your squat workouts if you use free weights rather than a squat machine. Using free weights makes you use all the little stabilizer muscles in your legs and adds to the effectiveness of the exercise.
Just make sure not to get so infatuated with squats that you ignore the other exercises that target you legs. And remember that
working out your legs is just as beneficial as working on your chest and arms and maybe more so. Strong and powerful legs provide a strong base for any other training or athletics.
For more info drop by our YouTube channel www.youtube.com/user/FitnessWeightLossCtr or visit us in the web at
fitnessweightlosscenter.com and find us on Facebook at facebook.com/fitnessweightlosscenter
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Several elephants in Zakouma's main herd have been fitted with tracking collars so that the herd's location can be established at all times in order to protect them from poachers. Having first established their location from the air Zakouma National Park Director Rian Labuschagne attempts to pick up their signal from the ground.
For roughly 6 months of the year between June and November Zakouma National Park is almost entirely inundated with floodwaters at this time elephants would often disperse into the surrounding area of what is now the Salamat Faunal Reserve. During this time Arab horsemen from the Darfur region of neighbouring Sudan would come to hunt the elephants as they had done for perhaps several hundred years. Traditionally a group of up to 20 horsemen armed with lances would charge a herd aiming to separate out one of the elephants. A single horseman would then ride in front of this elephant to draw its attention and get it to pursue him allowing the other men to ride in and spear it from behind with their lances. They would aim for the elephant’s hamstrings in its hind legs which if severed would bring the animal down and ensure it could not get up again. Huge numbers of elephants were killed this way and in response the surviving herds in the region have learned that at the first sign of horsemen their best defence is bunch up into tight groups to ensure that no individual can be separated out.
Today this is no defence the horsemen are Janjaweed militiamen and members of the Sudanese armed forces and they come not with the lances used by their ancestors but with AK47s, belt-fed machine guns and rocket propelled grenades. This habit of bunching up into a single large herd has meant that the poachers can easily kill 50-60 elephants in a single attack by simply machine gunning the terrified animals as they try to escape. In 2005 an aerial count found 3,885 elephants in Zakouma and the surrounding area in under a decade the population was reduced to just 430 and had stopped breeding due to the constant stress. Since African Parks took over Zakouma the poaching has been almost entirely stopped and the elephants are breeding again the population now stands at around 470.
After so many years of poaching most of Zakouma's elephants still generally stick together in a single big herd and often keep to the thick bush making them difficult to find.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
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Roll down
Not suggested for hernia disks and osteoporosis of the spine.
PILATES PRINCIPLES
Breathe and hollow
Flexion of spine
Bridge – articulating
ROLL DOWN WITH THERABAND
The theraband teaches how much the limbs have to be active for the Pilates roll down.
To start
1. Sit with legs extended. Place theraband around feet and hold the theraband close to the feet. Bend knees if hamstrings are tight.
2. Exhale, hollow abdominals and sequence the spine on to the floor.
3. Inhale and lengthen the head away from the feet.
4. Exhale, hollow and roll back up.
5. Repeat two more sets.
Yoga Detox with Evangeline Yeun youtu.be/uodFGB3JxvY A yoga detox practice to cleanse, clear and wring out internal organs, taught by Sydney based yoga teacher Evangeline Yeun. This yoga workout includes yoga flow, pranayama (yoga breathing), standing poses, twists, backbends, hamstring and hip stretches, and meditation. Yoga detox is a great way to flush out the old and make space for the new! Evangeline was first introduced to yoga in 2001 when she took a yoga class in her hometown of San Francisco. Working in the fashion industry, she was always stressed out and discovered that a regular yoga practice calmed her nerves and helped her to feel better about herself. In 2005, she decided to take the plunge. She decided to leave the corporate world and embark on a new adventure by enrolling in the Bikram Yoga Teacher Training. Since then, Evangeline has taught in San Francisco, Vancouver and now Sydney, her new home. Here, she has combined her love of yoga with her fashion industry experience, and launched her own unique brand of yoga wear for men and women – Yogalicious. She was also the Yoga and Lifestyle Advisor for Biotherm’s “Energy Team” for 5 years. Her love of yoga has also expanded into learning and teaching other Yoga styles in Sydney. In 2007, she participated in some workshops and teacher trainings with Twee Merrigan and in 2009 completed Advanced Yoga Teacher Training with Mark Breadner. She has also immersed herself in Jivamukti and Anusara training and is inspired by Shiva Rea, Twee Merrigan, Sharon Gannon, Kathryn Budig, Mark Breadner and her family and friends. AntiGravity Yoga has also been a recent love affair as she just completed her AntiGravity Yoga Teacher Training. She loves to incorporate different styles of yoga and dance in her creative, playful and dynamic classes. “I love teaching yoga and sharing this passion with others. I strive to remain calm, present and aware at all times and live yoga off the mat. I encourage students to relax, have fun and be themselves. Yoga is a beautiful journey and has changed my life.” — Evangeline Check out some of our other Yoga videos here: Grounding Flow with Evangeline Yeun www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVN1S_DK59A Power Yoga Workout ~ Let Grace Flow www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQ00C12psuw Yoga Workout for Hamstrings, with Hanumanasana www.youtube.com/watch?v=AgoU5Ph94a8&t=28s Bikram Yoga Full 90 Minute Workout with Maggie Grove www.youtube.com/watch?v=1e2pDKZHNaI Handstand Yoga Flow www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqTtNXzeYBs&t=1121s Power Yoga with Twists www.youtube.com/edit?video_id=6lnhDl9g9R0&video_refer... Click below to subscribe to our channel: youtube.com/heartalchemyyoga Our Sites www.heartalchemyyoga.com facebook.com/heartalchemyyoga instagram.com/travlinyogini twitter.com/travlinyogini
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
New Preston, Connecticut. Anne and I get to yoga class early so we can begin the process of calming down, breathing more steadily, and stretching to better take advantage of the poses and vinyasas our teacher takes us through. Simply lying on one's back and stretching one's hamstrings, feet, and toes can do wonders.
Salmon River Pulaski NY Jan. 1 Steelhead Fishing Report:
Even though Im on vacation, I wanted to share with all of you what happened today in a 2 hour period while fishing the lower river. Looked over the short bridge for slush and was happy to see that it was clearing up. I met Ray at 10 A.M. in the D.S.R. parking lot and broke trail to the stairs. Noticed that a number of deer and turkey had already packed the snow down for us.
Went directly to some prime Chrome real estate and on my 3rd cast with an orange egg sack on 6lb. test tippet my line stopped in the middle of the drift and the rod began to shake. Hhhmmm- I wonder what this means. Turns out it was a very bright, fresh, Steelhead of about 8 lb's. Ray missed one and I hit nothing for the next half hour with eggs, noticed fish porpasing in the hole as will as fish rolling off our main line. We left for the --- hole.
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As we walked across the river we noticed the water was a bit deeper and running a tad faster than a normal 285 cfs. Due to the shelf ice on the edges of the river and anchor ice on the bottom the water flow was actually being concentrated or compressed.( Please keep this in mind when wading the lower river) Another safety tip to remember is that beneath the shelf ice that you are standing on, it could be knee deep or deeper, so it pays to know your water. Ray who is pictured above is on shelf ice that is over thigh deep water.
At the edge of the ice it's over your waist. How do I know? ( We will save that story for another time!)
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With-in a couple of the first few cast's I had another one on. This one again was so bright that I was glad I had my sunglasses on to keep the suns reflection off the silvery sides of the steelhead from blinding me. The biggest problem we had (if you can call it that) was how to land a fish when you were restricted from approaching the edge of the shelf ice. Nether of us carried a net so we finally broke away at the ice in the tail so that we might have a shot at landing one.
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After a I hooked a couple more, Ray asked what pound test I was using. Turns out that Ray was fishing a little heavier than me and when he dropped down on his 3rd cast his rod went a shaking!
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Ray lands an 8 lb. male with a nice hooked jaw. (Fish was released) Ray got his on a pink egg sack.
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From the -- Hole down it's locked up tight with shelf ice and unfishable.
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It always pays to experiment with all aspects of you rigging, egg sack colors, flies, etc. Orange and Pink were the productive colors of our egg sacks today. I could not get a touch on the normally productive blue goo.
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By noon, the sun was out and it had warmed to what seemed to be the warmest it's been in a month. (30 degrees ?) We were both actually over dressed for these temp's, if you can believe that. It was interesting that as the temp's rose, so did the amount of anchor ice floating on the surface of the water. It made the fishing impossible so we both left after 2 hours of fishing and the knowledge we had gained. In 2 hours and 2 holes fished, I had 6 fish on and could of landed 4 with a net.. I'm not bragging, but this is what you can expect when you time it just right and the fish gods smile upon you.
Stay tuned,
Randy
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1/24 Salmon River Pulaski NY Steelhead Drift Boat Guide Fishing Report:
Our main goal today was to learn all the prime holding waters of the D.S.R. (Lower River). After we hit our 3rd fish in a row out of a small depression in the bottom of the river, I told Andy that since he wanted to learn all the holes we should leave this spot. He changed his mind real quick and decided a few more fish would be an O.K. exchange for learning a few more holes. So we stayed and hooked up another real quick. (He-he) and then it was off for more fun and excitement.
Today we fished hard, only hitting the most productive lies in 285 cfs.
Very light fishing pressure. Did notice a big lack of fish in this area compared to the month of Dec. Most fish have pushed out, up river with a few freshies trickling in daily.
Andy and I had a blast having almost the entire river to ourselves. Not only did Andy learn a lot, but also got into some reeeeeeel burners, too!
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Andy works the lil -- hole down to -- and is 3 for 6 for the day. All dime bright freshies! ( All fish Released )
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1/25 Salmon River NY Steelhead Drift Boat Guide Fishing Report:
Same ol same hole - nothing has changed from the last few post's. The fish ( Steelhead 8-12 lb's) are in and waiting for you. Middle to lower river holding the most. D.S.R. has cooled off.
Come on up and join us, wont you?
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Guest Steelhead Fishing Testimonial:
Randy,
Thank you for a truly great outing. Basically, I knew nothing about the river - in previous trips would usually end up somewhere in Altmar, following other fishermen around like a sheep. Now, I feel confident that I can approach the river with a strategy and a technique that will at least afford me the opportunity to identify and access "fishy" water and present my fly to fish for as long and as naturally as possible. Additionally, we studied numerous slots and runs that I never would've even considered stumbling around on my own. As I learned, it really is as precise as fitting a key into a lock.
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I cannot stress enough how invaluable this experience was, from the standpoint of a guy that lives a couple hours away, and simply cannot devote the time necessary to develop on my own a comfort level with such a complex fishery.
I hope you will be able to find some room for me in March...I promise it will take me less than half a day to figure out that "straight out in front of you" means straight out in front of me.
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By the way, I think I pulled my hamstring sprinting after that last fish. Thanks again.
Andy (See 1/24 Report)
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Fly Fishing in Salt Waters magazine excerpts:
Size Counts!
When working the Northeast Surf - Flats, Two Hands Are Better Than One
( Check it out, Lefty K. and I were both interviewed for this lil nugget)
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Look for my "Go To" fly in the May issue of Fly Fishing in Salt Waters magazine.
This 25 lb. , 40 inch Bass ate it good!
Bob Funk of Mustad Hooks-Size 4 #34009 Mustad
Sand Lance Pattern
Biggest Striper on a fly for Bob
1ª DIA ME CAI EN EL RESTAURANTE DEBIDO A QUE EL SUELO ESTABA LLENO BEBIDA DE UNA MQUINA EXPENDIDORA AVERIDA..
AL CAER MI OPERACION DE COLUMNA SE EMPEORO, UNA ROTURA FIBRILAR EN UNA PIERNA Y REPOSO ABSOLUTO.-
VISITAS A LOS MEDICOS Y PINCHAR CALMANTES. YA ME CONOCIAN EN HOSPITAL........
LA PLAYA DESDE EL BALCON, LA PISCINA DESDE LA SILLA .
EL TODO INCLUIDO SI SENTADA................
Y EL HOTEL DE MOMENTO...........ME REGALO EL SPA TODOS LOS DIAS.
Y MUCHO REPOSO Y NADA DE ANDAR.
ESO SON VACACIONES..........................
.1 st day I fell IN THE RESTAURANT BECAUSE THE LAND WAS FILLED WITH DRINK .. AVERO a machine vending
FALL TO MY COLUMN OPERATION worsens, a hamstring in the leg and absolute rest .-
VISITS TO DOCTORS AND CLICK painkillers. HOSPITAL knew me ........
BALCONY FROM THE BEACH, THE POOL FROM THE CHAIR.
THE SAT IS ALL INCLUSIVE ................
AND ........... ME TIME HOTEL SPA GIFT THE EVERYDAY.
AND MUCH REST AND NO WALK.
HOLIDAYS ARE THAT ...........................
England gained their first home victory over West Indies since 1969, when Illingworth's team also won at Headingley. In addition to Gooch, the outstanding batsman, and Defreitas, the most successful bowler, they possessed a greater discipline in testing conditions, and this eventually enabled them to outplay their opponents, in their 100th encounter.
Gooch gloriously confirmed his standing on the international stage. His decisive, unbeaten 154 in the second innings was the product of seven and a half hours of careful application. Unyielding concentration carried him through three interruptions for rain on the fourth day, and mental toughness enabled him to survive a series of disasters at the other end. In 331 deliveries, England's captain collected eighteen fours and scored two thirds of his side's runs from the bat as they built on a lead of 25; and he became the first England opener to carry his bat through a completed innings since G. Boycott finished with 99 not out, in a total of 215, against Australia at Perth in 1979-80. Three other England batsmen had achieved the feat, among them Sir Leonard Hutton, the only one previously to do so in England; coincidentally, West Indies were on the receiving end of his unbeaten double-hundred at The Oval in 1950. Gooch's innings also gave him a full set of Test hundreds on each of England's six international grounds.
Although no praise could be too lavish for Gooch, Defreitas, too, took a prominent role. His match figures of eight for 93 rewarded admirable control and impressive accuracy. Inevitably, as 40 wickets fell for only 785 runs, the pitch attracted a good deal of comment, not all favourable, and batting was never comfortable. The ball moved off the seam and the bounce became a shade variable towards the end; but the damp weather played a part, and far too many batsmen got out to strokes which reflected anxiety about what the ball might do, rather than what it actually did. There was also, at times, some high-class bowling, notably from Ambrose, and three players were run out during the first two innings. As Gooch eventually demonstrated, it was possible to score runs with a sound technique. But it was not a pitch for the flamboyant strokeplayer, and West Indies lost largely because they failed to appreciate this point. Significantly, it was the tenth successive Test on the ground to produce a positive result.
England included three newcomers to Test cricket in Hick, Ramprakash and Watkin. The last-mentioned was initially cover for Pringle, who was concerned about a back strain, but when this cleared up Watkin played instead of Lewis, who had reported feeling ill shortly before the start. England also left out Illingworth, the left-arm spinner. Haynes overcame his earlier back trouble to open for West Indies, and his presence was all the more valuable in view of the long-term injury to his regular partner, Greenidge.
Influenced by the thick cloud cover and a misty atmosphere, Richards elected to put England in, and he had no cause for regret when his bowlers dismissed them for 198, England failing to reach 200 for the seventh time in nine innings at Headingley. The pattern of the first day was set by Atherton, recently appointed deputy to Gooch, when he was bowled playing back to Patterson. Hick was given a thorough testing in his first innings for his adopted country, and eventually got out aiming at a wide delivery, while Lamb also lacked conviction. Gooch, though not at his best, attacked Marshall, but was undone by a quicker delivery from him. Marshall looked the pick of the West Indian pace quartet before limping off with a hamstring strain and three of England's top five batsmen to his credit. The good impression made by Ramprakash, and Smith's readiness to wrest the initiative, gave England visions of a recovery, until Ambrose ran out Smith by a fraction with a superb throw from third man. His 54 was made from 88 balls, and he hit seven fours as well as gaining a five from overthrows.
The batsmen had to contend with poor light at times, with near darkness removing 26 overs from the schedule, and conditions remained much the same on the second day, when the tables were neatly turned. Pringle and Defreitas bowled tightly to compensate for the wayward Malcolm, and Ramprakash excelled in the field. He dived acrobatically to his right in the covers to catch Simmons, and then swooped to throw down the stumps at the bowler's end as Hooper attempted an apparently reasonable single. Hick held two catches at second slip, and the third débutant, Watkin, could also celebrate, as he claimed Haynes's wicket with his fourteenth ball in Test cricket. The West Indian batsmen were not blameless, however; Richards's poor judgment in turning down a straightforward third run left Richardson stranded. Nor could he hold together the bottom half of the innings, being caught steering the fifth ball of the third day to slip. His 98-ball 73, containing two sixes and seven fours in just over two hours, was his highest Test score on the ground, but he must have been disappointed, none the less, by the manner of his dismissal.
Despite their unexpected first-innings lead, England plunged into crisis as Ambrose struck some crippling blows. Twice he was on a hat-trick, with Lamb and Smith departing first ball, and he picked up the first six wickets while the scoreboard lurched to 124. Mixing short-pitched bowling with accurate yorkers, Ambrose made full use of his 6ft 7 in, and kept the ball around the line of the off stump. Though Hick may have been slightly unfortunate in being bowled off bat and pad, he never really established himself, but Ramprakash, sharing a fourth-wicket stand of 78 with his captain, again showed promise. When rain brought an early finish, England had a lead of only 168 with four wickets in hand. The support Gooch needed was to come from Pringle, who stood firm while 98 runs were added for the seventh wicket. The Essex all-rounder used his height and reach to get well forward, thus frustrating Ambrose, and occasionally he added a well-timed stroke off his legs for good measure. Richards may have erred in not using Marshall at the start of the day.
When Gooch finally ran out of partners, England had 277 runs at their backs, and West Indian anxiety was reflected in an extravagant cut by Simmons, who dragged the first ball from Defreitas into his stumps. England could even afford a rare error by Ramprakash on the last day - he missed a very hard chance offered by Haynes- as West Indies crumbled under pressure. Richards sacrificed his wicket with a wild stroke against Watkin, and while Richardson played an innings of quality, hitting eleven fours in his 68 from 141 balls, the West Indian batsmen generally could not control their aggressive streak. Though Watkin bowled too many half-volleys, no-one had the self-discipline to wait for the less risky scoring opportunity. West Indies swished away their faint hopes as Defreitas and Pringle nagged away at them, supported by good catching, and despite a flourish from Dujon, the long-awaited triumph came without undue alarm.
From “My encounters with the Barbarians blade”, by Lady Elina Greypepper
Of all my encounters with the Barbarian in that hellish forest while we travelled back towards the slavers, the seventh night of our enforced companionship is one of the most memorable. We always made camp just after dusk, Skarr setting a fire and cooking one of the small creatures she had killed during the day that I had been tasked to prepare. She forbade me from using what she called my “lotions and potions” on it, claiming the”bare taste of the meat was adequate”. And so this seventh night, we sat eating what I think was a cross between a small bird and a rat, a rough tasteless meat. Evidently Skarr thought so too because she spat out the first mouthful and ate nothing more that evening, muttering something about Norther animals being far more tasty and succulent. I did not respond, nor did she expect me to.
Then began the barbarian’s normal ritual of sharpening her blades. Not the Doomsayer, her greatsword. That mighty weapon had magical properties of some kind, and no matter how hard Skarr whacked it into some poor unfortunate creature’s skull, it never even tarnished. The edge was as sharp and fine as any blade I had ever seen. No, Skarr had several other small blades which, not being magical, required sharpening, and after supper, she pulled out a tiny wrapped oilstone from her pack and began to sharpen the weapons upon it, running her finger down each keen blade until blood was drawn.
As I watched her thumb bleed, I saw a vicious looking scar on the side of her stomach. This was unusual for her, as Skarr healed quickly, something I put down to her Norther blood. But this was still red and angry, as if someone or something had tried to rip her stomach open. Feeling strangely foolhardy, especially while the barbarian held her small blades, I crawled over to her from my place by the fire and reached out to the wound. She regarded me with her sharp eyes, and watched as my finger moved to the wound.
“I can make a poultice that will stop the pain”, I said.
“No!” she cried, flinching backwards, “the pain is important! It is part of me.”
“I don’t understand,” I asked, pulling back.
“Poshol ti nahoo, oslayob!” she muttered in her own tongue.
Unfortunately for Skarr, I had begun to understand a few words of Norther myself and I knew what most of Skarr’s foul mouthed little rants meant.
“Donkeys indeed!” I said, looking at her with an amused expression, “You need your mouth scrubbing out with nightwort”.
She said nothing, but returned my look of amusement. Then her look changed, the pained expression came across her face, an expression I have come to see once or twice since. I was wary, as, following the pained expression there usually came an outburst of violence. I watched as she moved position and came next to me by the fire. Speaking softly now, her voice wavering slightly, she spoke in her broken, heavy accented Imperial.
“They were my brothers. Tribe brothers, blood brothers, call them what you will. We have our own words; they do not…translate well. We have been through the blood rituals together, when every village pits it’s warriors against each other, the strongest of them rule, the weak are hacked to pieces. There is much drunkenness and death in these times. We had survived and united our tribes, bled together, laughed, cried, lain together”. She looked at me as she said this, the pained look in her eyes deepening. This was the longest speech I had ever heard Skarr speak.
“There were those who sought to break up the five of us, but they did not. We came to rule the seven tribes between us. We struck down the warlords and I was elected to rule in their stead. The terror of the north. When the attack on the Imperial city of filth was repelled, I fought to get in the same boat with my brothers, so we could laugh and chant at the Imperial weaklings who thought they had defeated us. We got into our boat and sang bawdy songs and drank till we puked, then drank some more”.
Skarr laughed as she remembered the good times, staring into the flames of the flickering camp fire. Then she continued.
“Gunnerson surprised me as we sailed to our homeland. He thrust a sack over my head and pulled the string tight. I was drunk and I puked inside the bag. Then he hit me in the face and the inside of the bag was full of my puke and now blood. Then someone else hit me in the back of the legs and I went down hard on the deck. Taggarhey and Gunnerson discussed whether or not they would hamstring me, they decided against it. My blood brothers. My beloved warlords. I was undone. Turned against. As they came to thrust me from the boat, Bunds slipped his knife deep into my side and twisted. I knew it was him, even though I could not see. He was beautiful with his blade. Efficient as only a Norther warrior can be. Blood to attract the slitherfish, he said. Bunds, the one I had lain with, the one who….never mind.”
“But yet you survived?” I said, looking directly into her eyes. Sure enough, the pain had gone now from her face, and I could feel the anger and fury radiate from her.
“I was dying in the water, surrounded by slitherfish preparing to strike their poison spines into me and drag me to the depths. I was ready to meet my ancestors and walk the halls of Varnarok where my father, mother and precious daughter waited. I was a warrior. Varnarok would embrace me into the afterlife. I had died in battle. That was when I found the Doomsayer in the water. I killed the slitherfish with it and washed ashore here. I crawled up onto the rocks and washed the blood and puke from my face. After I had dressed my gut wound, I sat upon the rocks and began to plan the way in which I would kill my treacherous kinsmen, my beloved blood brothers. I vowed vengeance upon them, terrible, personal vengeance. Vengeance written in blood. I will decapitate them, so that they will be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok.
I gasped at this. The Halls of Varnarok were, to the Northers, what the Nine Divines were to us Imperials. Decapitation was the worst possible death for any Norther. It meant that he would be forever denied the Halls of Varnarok. Never to walk with his ancestors. The reasons why they were denied this I did not know. Much of the old Norther faith is still a mystery to us, even now. Skarr looked at me and smiled. She did not have a pleasant smile; it was a smile of blood and death, of tears and vengeance. I did not know what to say to her, but she was relaxed enough to let me apply a poultice, before we settled down to sleep, or in my case, another sleepless night listening to the catcalls of the forest creatures and noises, or to Skarr’s incessant snoring as she slept soundly. I almost looked forward to meeting the slavers again. I just hoped Skarr would not slaughter them all before they conducted us to Samaria.
As I watched the fire burn, I saw the faint flicker of a smile cross Skarr’s lips. She looked at me,
“Fear not Dushka”, she laughed softly, “we will run into the slavers soon. Then we shall have fun and see if your plan works.”
Fun? I doubted it. Maybe for her it would be fun, but for poor little apothecary apprentice me, I sincerely doubted that I would come through it either free or alive. That night I slept even less well than I had done previously. And if I’d have known then what I know now about our forthcoming adventures, I would not have slept at all.
Haden Hill Leisure Centre has launched its latest Les Mills class - BODYBALANCE...
The new class takes place every Sunday from 11am to 12pm.
BODYBALANCE is a Yoga, T'ai Chi and Pilates-inspired workout leaving you long, strong, calm and centred. Feel balanced - a perfect way to spend your Sunday!
Controlled breathing, concentration and a carefully structured series of stretches, moves and posese create an holistic workout that brings the body into a state of harmony and balance.
Like all the Les Mills programmes, a new BODYBALANCE class is produced every three months with new music and choreography.
BODYBALANCE Benefits
Improve joint flexibility and range of motion
Increase your core strength
Reduce your stress levels
Provide a lasting sense of well-being and calmFocus the mind and raise consciousness levels through
controlled breathing
A Typical Class
Each class follows a set sequence of exercise disciplines and is made up of 45 minutes of simple,
yet challenging, exercises followed by 10 minutes of relaxation and meditation. Your instructor takes you through the moves and shows you options to suit your fitness level. If you haven’t done any yoga or group fitness before, please take it easy. Use your first few classes to learn the poses and moves and how to get the most out of your workout. Don’t hesitate to have a word with your instructor if you have any questions.
T'ai Chi warm up
Easy, flowing moves from the ancient Chinese exercise discipline let you leave your day behind, centre yourself and warm the body.
Sun salutations
A traditional yoga sequence warms your body more deeply, stretching and strengthening key muscle groups.
Yoga standing strength
Poses such as Warrior Pose and Triangle Pose strengthen and tone the body.
Balance
Concentration and focus allow your mind and body to meet the challenge of balancing poses.
Hip openers
Focuses on stretching for greater flexibility and freedom of movement in the hips and lower back.
Abdominals and back
Uses exercises from yoga and Pilates to strengthen core abdominal and back muscles.
Twists and forward bends
Poses and stretches create suppleness and flexibility in the hamstrings and back.
Relaxation and meditation
The final 10 minutes deliver the mental and physiological benefits of meditation and enhance the effects of the exercise you have just completed.
For more information please contact Haden Hill Leisure Centre on 0845 659 4815 option 0.
Student Maddie Blazer performs a handstand on the wall in the yoga studio on Tuesday. This exercise strengthens hip flexors, hamstrings, inner thigh muscles and spinal muscles.
Planning to lose weight fast and naturally? Avert towards the science of yoga and indulge in a dedicated practice of these six amazing yoga poses discussed and elaborated in the accompanying Info-graphic:
Paripurna Navasana (Boat Pose)
Ideal for: Toning and strengthening of the Abdomen, Vertebral Column, and Hips.
How to Perform: Lie on the back and gently lift the torso and the legs towards the ceiling until the entire body rests on the hips. Keep your arms and legs straight and parallel to each other during the performance.
Hold Time: 30 Seconds
Repetitions: 15-20
Chaturanga Dandasana (Four-Limbed Staff Pose)
Ideal for: Heating and conditioning the core and the upper body.
How to Perform: Lie flat on your stomach. With the toes firmly planted on the floor, lift the upper body and rest it on the arms folded at the elbows. Make sure to keep the hips, back, neck, in a straight inclined line to the ankle.
Hold Time: 30-90 Seconds
Repetitions: 5
Virabhadrasana II (Warrior II Pose)
Ideal for: Burning fat around the thighs, shoulders, and quadriceps
How to Perform: This lunge-style yoga asana requires you to spread your legs wide apart. Rotate the right foot outwards. Lift your arms parallel to the floor in a straight line. Look towards the right and gently bend your body at the right knee until the shin is parallel to the floor. Repeat with the other leg.
Hold Time: 30 Seconds
Repetitions: 12-15
Adho Mukha Svanasana (Downward Dog)
Ideal for: Toning and strengthening the entire body especially back, thighs, and hamstrings.
How to Perform: From a table-top position, gently raise the hips towards the ceiling in an Inverted-V shape. Hold the body weight in the torso as much as possible without placing too much stress on the palms.
Hold Time: 30 Seconds
Repetitions: 10-12
Setu Bandha Sarvangasana (Bridge Pose)
Ideal for: Weight loss by stimulating the thyroid and heating up the gluteus muscles
How to Perform: Lie flat on the back. Fold your legs at the knee at a perpendicular position. Place both the arms under the back and gently lift the body upwards at the hips while the chin feebly touches the neck.
Hold Time: 30 Seconds
Repetitions: 12-15
Sarvangasana (Shoulder Stand Pose)
Ideal for: Boosting the metabolism by stimulating the thyroid gland and for strengthening and toning the upper body, legs, and abdomen.
How to Perform: Lie on your back. Place both the arms under your back for supporting the lower body while lifting it towards the ceiling. Continue to lift the body until the lower body is in a straight line with the torso.
Hold Time: 30-60 Seconds
Repetitions: 5