“There is a style of yoga that will meet any physical needs you have. It doesn’t matter what age you are; It takes you where you are, and improves you from there.”
That’s not according to the Yoga Chamber of Commerce. That’s according to 61-year-old Nancy Wren of Matthews, who first relied on yoga to help her through pregnancy — and labor — in the 1970s, and more recently used it to cope with the physical demands and stress of helping her ill husband, and then to help her through the grieving process when he died. Wren is something of a poster child for the several-thousand-year-old practice of yoga, which the Mayo Clinic defines as “an alternative medicine practice [that] brings together physical and mental disciplines to achieve peacefulness of body and mind, helping you relax and manage stress and anxiety.”read more
I turned 55 today and celebrated with a 30-minute ab workout.
I had to: According to the National Institutes of Health, while 55 is when males generally start dropping weight (sorry gals, it doesn’t happen for you until around 65), I’m now more inclined to hang on to the weight I’m keeping — in the form of fat — around my midsection.read more
Are you conning yourself when you swear you really would run more if you bought those spiffy new orange Asics Sky Speeds or that you would log 10,000 miles this year if only you had the carbon Specialized S-Works Venge road bike?
Maybe not. If 1,850 older Taiwanese are any indication, you could be improving your odds of a long life.read more
If you live in the Triangle, you have discovered the fountain of youth.
A study of the 50 largest metro areas in the U.S. finds the Raleigh-Durham-Chapel Hill area is among the 10 “youngest” places in the country. The study, released today, looked at 52 factors and ranked the Triangle No. 8 nationally, just below No. 7 San Diego and just above No. 9 Minneapolis-St. Paul, in terms of how old we really are.read more
Late last September I was backpacking a particularly rugged, remote section of the Nantahala National Forest when I entered a clearing and my legs went electric. I knew immediately why: bees, lots of ’em, all digging into my apparently tasty ankles. And I knew immediately that my trip was over and it would behoove me to skedaddle as quickly as possible. Over the years I have developed an allergic reaction to bee stings, and as is the case with bee stings each successive one tends to be worse than its predecessor. The last time I’d been stung, the previous summer, a bee flew into my nose while I was mountain biking. Within minutes my face had swollen to the size of a basketball.read more