DCF 2012 Winter

Winter 2012-13

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Duke City Fit Winter 2012-13

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Winter 2012-13

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Duke City Fit

From the Publisher

As I understand it, the Winter Queen was born, or came to be, on the rocky, talus slopes of a southwestern desert mountain.

She was the offspring, the naturally evolved result, of the long running relationship between the sun and the moon. A love/hate relationship. A relationship between the fiery, all-powerful father figure that was the sun, and the moody, maternal mother moon.

The sun was, for his part, a dominating force. Always had been.

He worked his will upon the world with a vengeance. He baked it.

Be broiled it. He brought life to it and he burned that life to a crisp.

He was the master of his domain and he exulted in his power. He

The Winter Queen

was a loudmouth, brazen bully with an ego the size of the heavens.

On the other hand, her mother, the moon, was rather quiet and shy. She was a poet, a lover, a philosopher. She stayed out of the harsh light of day and avoided the heat of old Sol’s glaring countenance. She preferred, rather, the shadowed, nightly world of songs and dreams and glowing visions. She longed for little but harmony… in song, in spirit, and in life.

Little wonder, then, that the Winter Queen, the progeny of these two disparate entities would have, shall we say, an interesting personality. She is a blend of the two… a schizophrenic, chaotic blend of opposing forces. And depending upon when and where you encounter her, and in what season, you may well see traits of either one of the parents. Or both at the same time, heaven help you.

Most often though, as she is traditionally known, she wanders the high desert quietly and unobtrusively. Usually she is humming. This is particularly true in the fall, when she is well-rested and relaxed. She strolls the ridges and meanders the arroyos, noting the swollen fruits of the prickly pears and the rain-ravaged gullies where the storms of summer have done their deeds.

Occasionally, on a whim perhaps, or when the moon is a particularly striking crescent, she spreads a fine dusting of snow upon the high country. Like talcum powder, it is. Like talcum powder on a baby’s bottom. It is a motherly thing to do, she feels. It is a preparation, a forewarning. And as she dusts she hums an ancient, ancient lullaby.

Her friend Kokopelli, he of the flute, sometimes chides her that she hums the songs because she cannot remember the words. She smiles at this. The fact of the matter, which she keeps to herself, is that these melodies came into being long before words did. Before there were even people to speak words. So she hums the old tunes, so softly that it is often little more than a whisper and might easily be mistaken for the sound of the breeze… through the needles of a ponderosa pine. Or the spines of an aged cholla.

Human children can hear her sometimes, for they recognize lullabies, even ancient ones without words. And dogs hear her, too, and set to barking. At the moon, they say.

But it is really at the melancholy in her melody and the gentle warning carried there within. For the dogs, it is that, and... they do not wish to have their bottoms talcumed. Or at least, most of them don’t.

Eventually in her wanderings she seems to become a bit dismayed. At the chaos, she thinks. At the hectic pace with which the summer and the fall have driven her beloved desert land. They have pushed it and cooked it and ravaged it with growth and death and change. Tis a clangorous song the land and the people sing, full of vibrant discord and clashing harmonies. It is too much.

Her motherly instincts work their way to the fore. This desert highland is her baby, Editor@dukecityfit.com her child, and she longs to calm its wildly beating heart. She wants to still its anxious (505) 291-0070 energy. She needs to fold it into her arms and Editor: Ken Orth Copy Editor: P Joan Orth, RN Printed by Vanguard Printing soothe its furrowed brow.

So, she does what she can. She retrieves Duke City Fit is solely owned and published by Duke City Fit, LLC. It is published quarterly in March, June, September, and December. Copyright © 2013 by Duke City her magical, ageless blanket from its place Fit. All rights reserved. Reproduction in part or in whole without written permission is up in the clouds, and she spreads it out, prohibited. Opinions and expressions of fact within articles are those of the author and gently, over her wailing child. It is a vast, are not necessarily those of the editor or publisher. Specifically, the editor and publisher are not liable for actions taken in response to any article. Readers are encouraged to vast comforter she spreads. A comforter of use common sense and consult with a professional before attempting any potentially billowy goose-down, fluffy and white. She harmful activity. spreads it over the hills and the arroyos and Duke City Fit encourages your submission of articles, photographs, comments, criticisms, and ideas. All submissions will be considered for publication. Recommended the aging chollas. article length is 1000 to 1200 words. We reserve the right to edit all submitted materials.

“Be still,” she murmurs in her humming Materials will not be returned. Advertising is accepted at the discretion of the publisher. way.

Duke City Fit is printed on recycled paper using soy-based ink. Our mailing address: “Be still.”

Duke City Fit, 3801 Big Bend NE, Albuquerque, NM 87111

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And with the downy blanket of fluff, she muffles the noise and covers the chaos and brings… serenity… to her anxious world. She comforts it, and it slumbers, albeit briefly, ‘neath her tender layer of love. She tucks it in and hums her ancient lullaby and smiles a motherly smile.

From above, a full moon glows down upon the sparkling blanket.

The moon is brighter, it seems, than it has ever been. The world is white again, and pure. It is at peace. It is a world of poetry and dreams. The moon seems to smile from its place in the heavens.

Ah, but it cannot last. All too soon the short slumber ends and the world awakens. The comforter is tossed aside, disheveled, like an old blanket. The sun fights its way back into the sky, into the world, bullying it back into frenetic motion. The downy blanket is sloughed off, carelessly, into the gutter.

The Winter Queen, though she has been through this cycle countless times throughout the ages is taken aback again by the suddenness and the veracity of the awakening. Why must it always be so? There was a time, long ago, when the peaceful period of slumber lasted so much longer. When the blanket of white grew oh so thick and the world rested for oh so long. And the fiery strident voice from above was silenced for a time But not now. Now the world is awake and crying.

She wanders again, and she thinks. And the more she thinks the more confused she becomes. Confused and angry. Why cannot the world be as it should? Her song grows louder. If the world will not hear her, she will make it hear. If the world will not listen to her, she will make it listen.

Her song becomes a howl, no longer a song, but a screeching cacophony. She begins to throw things. To freeze things and break things. She again goes to the clouds, but this time she reaches not for goose-down, but for pellets of ice and buckets of heavy, wet mush.

She throws it at her recalcitrant child… the stinging bits of ice in a bitter wind. She beats him with it. She pummels him. She coats him with a freezing, frozen layer then buries him ‘neath the snow.

An avalanche of sodden dreams.

“Do you hear me now?” she screams, whistling in the night.

And the dogs cower under the beds. And the moon is nowhere to be seen. And even the sun fades away into the distance and is silent and cold.

Eventually, of course, the Winter Queen wears herself out with her fury. Her anger and her frustration eventually fade. She wanders once again. Aimlessly. Listlessly. Her constant humming now sounds more like she is talking to herself, and perhaps she is.

She pulls down a long crystalline icicle from a granite boulder and gazes at it. She wonders how it came to be. The sunlight, growing stronger once again, prisms through it in a rainbow of colors and she marvels at it with childlike simplicity.

She begins to hum a tune again… an ancient, ancient lullaby.

Soon enough her friend, Kokopelli, recently awakened by the warmer weather and drawn by the music, locates her and invites her to join him in a springtime stroll. He does his best to pull her out of her doldrums. He is boisterous and energetic. He dances and flings seeds and sounds forth on his magical flute.

Before long she is fitting words, lyrics, to the soaring notes and they laugh together, a gurgling sound not unlike the sound of spring water bubbling over rounded rocks. It is a lilting laughter. The sun himself smiles brightly.

But the Winter Queen is tired. She cannot keep up with the energetically youthful flautist, so she finally excuses herself and retires to the high country. To a resting place in a peaceful grotto where she can sleep and dream and recover. A place where she can completely miss the hot, angry days of summer.

In due time, she will awaken, as she has countless times in the past, when the leaves start to turn and the breeze starts to chill.

Then, she will arise and begin wandering the desert again. Quietly.

Hoping to bring peace and serenity to a hectic troubled child. She is the Winter Queen, born of the sun and the moon.

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Duke City Fit Winter

Winter

City of Albuquerque

50+ Sports and Fitness Program Blast Off Week - New Years 2013

New Years Day in Santa Fe Nat’l Forest

Alpine Ski Lessons

Alpine skiing at Santa Fe, Nordic skiing just below Santa Fe, and Snowshoeing at Aspen Vista.

Palo Duro Fitness Center Tuesday, January 1 • 7:30 am

Improve your skiing with Hubert Seigmann, head coach of the Santa Fe ski team.

McKinley Community Center January 2 • 12noon • 2-hour clinic January 3 • 7:30am • Santa Fe skiing

Classes

Back Country Winter Sports Clinics

Telemark Ski Clinics A morning of Telemark instruction An afternoon of skiing at Santa Fe Palo Duro Fitness Center Thursday, January 3 • 7:30 am

Beginning & Intermediate X-Country and Beginning Snowshoe at Santa Fe Palo Duro Fitness Center Friday, January 4 • 7:30 am

Trips

BFIT2SKI

Get ready for the winter sport season with our sport specific training class. 6 weeks. 1 class per week or 2 classes per week. Begin January 8.

Beginning XC Skiing

Space is limited. Pre-payment is required to reserve your space on the van. Leave from the Palo Duro Fitness Center. Pre-Register.

XC Skiing - Tuesdays

Enjoy the splendor of New Mexico’s back country. Trips are open to intermediate or advanced skiers. Destinations include the Jemez, Manzanos, and Sandias.

Snowshoeing - Wednesdays

Learn the basics of Cross-Country Skiing.

Friday, January 4.

Snowshoeing is easy, inexpensive and fun! Destinations include the Jemez, Manzano and Sandia Mountains, depending on snow fall.

Intermediate XC Skiing

Downhill Ski & Snowboard - Thursdays

A refresher for intermediate to advanced skiers.

Friday, January 4.

Let us drive. Hit the slopes at Santa Fe ski area.

Telemark Ski Lessons

Snowshoe 101 Trips - Fridays

Learn basics of those beautiful, sweeping ‘tele-turns’! A morning of instruction, an afternoon to practice & free ski. Thursday, January 3.

Instruction on snowshoe techniques and conditioning excercises, safety and minmal impact travel in the backcountry.

Slalom Ski & Board Clinic

Compete better and improve your everyday skiing! Turn a ski day into a GREAT ski day. 2 day clinic.

Wednesday, January 2 & Thursday, January 3.

Valles Caldera

Two special trips for XC Skiers and Snowshoers to the beautiful Valles Calderas National Preserve in the Jemez Mountains. January 26 & February 9.

50+ Fantastic Freeze Fest

Downhill Ski & Snowboard Poker Run

Modified Giant Slalom with age categories All Day at Santa Fe Ski Area Palo Duro Fitness Center Thursday, February 7 • 7:30 am

Pickleball Tournament

Great competition, Something for everyone Fastest growing sport in Albuquerque!

Pre-register by December 27 Manzano Mesa Multigenerational Center January 5, 6 • 8:00am

Cross Country Magical Mystery Tour Spend the day in the back country searching for special treasures Palo Duro Fitness Center Tuesday, February 5 • 7:30 am

Winter Activities

Bench Press Competition

Age categories for both men & women Teams of 5 to 10 people, Pre-register by February 1 North Domingo Baca Multigenerational Center Saturday, February 9 • 10:00am 311 or TTY 764-6405

880-2800

www.cabq.gov/seniors

Winter 2012-13

Ice Hockey

Get your team together!

Deadline February 4 Call Bob Waltson: 771-2671 Outpost Ice Arena Thursday, February 7 • 6:00 pm

Swimming Workshops

3 workshops taught by swim coach Tim Wilde Various pools every 2 weeks, Pre-register Los Altos • Saturday, February 3 • 9-11am Highland • Sunday, February 17 • 10-12am West Mesa • Saturday, March 2 • 10-12am

Cycling Workshop

Cycling training, bike prep, proper nutrition, warm-ups, time trial & road race McKinley Community Center Thursday, February 28 • 1:00pm

The headquarters for the 50+ Sports & Fitness Program is located at the Palo Duro 50+ Sports & Fitness Center at 3351 Monroe NE. Membership costs $13 per year and is valid at all Albuquerque Senior Centers.

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Duke City Fit A Duke City Fit Production In Conjunction with The Center for Gait and Motion Analysis

My Feet , My Feet

A Kingdom for My Feet Written by Ken Orth, starring James “Bone” Dexter & Stan “Heart n Sole” Hockerson

He was crotchety that day.

“What about my feet?”, he grumbled. “They hurt sometimes. And besides that, look at where they’re at… way down there at the bottom of my legs. Can’t hardly get at ‘em down there.”

Which reminds me, you know what’s on them feet?

Shoelaces. What’s with that? Shoelaces? I hate shoelaces.

What a pain. Aren’t shoelaces left over from the middle ages or something? Them and buttonhooks, for Pete’s sake.

But don’t go tellin’ me to use velcro instead of shoelaces. Velcro? Velcro my butt. Velcro is for disposable diapers. And I made a vow a long, long time ago to never go anywhere near disposable diapers ever again. I even divert myself when I discover (much to my chagrin) that I am actually going down the diaper aisle in the grocery Coordinated images of the same person walking in three separate store. sessions wearing different shoes. Left to right: regular running shoes, I think I’d rather go down the cosmetic aisle, and minimalist “footsies”, and barefoot. Accurately measured differences I’m actually not too keen on that, either. But the damn may include: hip displacement, knee torque, foot impact. toothpaste is down there somewhere. What in the heck is toothpaste doing in the cosmetic aisle, anyway? I “Stan, buddy,” I said. “I already have an insert in my shoes.” suppose it’s that whitener, brightener stuff in it. Does that make It’s one of his, as a matter of fact. It’s a plastic arch support it “cosmetic”? It’s probably just white paint for all I know. Smear that I’ve been using religiously for many years when I play that stuff all over your chompers and you’ll have a smile you can soccer. He recommended it to me back in about 2006 or so be proud of, no doubt about it. when I was experiencing hip pain. It was in my left hip and was But I’ll tell ya what you can do with that gleaming smile…take evidently from my soccer playing… I was continually planting it over there up the diaper aisle, that’s what. Smile your way up on my left foot for punting and kicking. He suggested his arch that. support inserts that he had designed in conjunction with a In the meantime, though, I’d like to sit my sorry backside local podiatrist. I used ‘em. They solved my problem. I’ve been a down. My feet hurt. Which reminds me, why don’t they have believer ever since. benches along the grocery aisles? They’d be used, I guarantee it.

“These,” he said, showing me the new devices, “are not inserts.

You could have a plaque on each one… “This bench is donated They are insoles. They are designed and built to cushion, as well in loving memory of Samuel Wiseacre. “Sit here for a while and as support, your feet. The way they should be cushioned and ponder your choice of pickles. As Samuel was doing the day he supported.” left us.”

Here, take off your shoe. What size is that anyway? About an Pondering pickles, at least, would divert your mind from 11? He was pulling one of the new devices down from the rack your sore feet. Did you know they have 53 different kinds of pickles? I counted ‘em. They even have these little gherkin things while I was dutifully removing one of my brand name running shoes. imported from Germany. Spicey dill, they say. I bet. I wonder Look at this insole, he said, pulling it out of my shoe. This is how those babies would interact with some of that whitening what they come with. All of them. This thin little flimsy insole. It toothpaste?… amazes me. You pay a bunch of money for a pair of shoes and they come with this cheap insole that costs about a quarter to Even being crotchety, his mind wandering hither and yon, I make. There’s no cushioning. No support. Nothing. can’t help but smile. He does have a point or two. Maybe not I put his insoles into my shoes, replacing the paper thin things about diapers or toothpaste, but certainly about sore feet. Lots that were there. I stood and took a few tentative steps around of us have sore feet, at least occasionally. What’s up with that? as he watched me and my feet expectantly. I felt like I was And I do, as he reminds me constantly, write stories for a semisupposed to swoon or something. health-related newspaper… “Why don’t you write about sore So, with all eyes upon my feet, I clicked my heels together and feet?” muttered “There’s no place like home.”

Get on it.

Very funny. But what do you feel?

I don’t think, however, that the solution has a whole lot to do Truthfully, I did feel something. Pressure. A little bit of pressure with benches in the grocery store. But I‘ll keep an open mind. against my arch and maybe up there around the ball of my foot.

It didn’t feel bad, just like there was something there that wasn’t My starting point for talking feet has to be my buddy, Stan, there before. over at Heart and Sole Sports. He’s the owner of the premier Very good, he told me. What you are doing is distributing your running shoe store in New Mexico. Maybe even in the entire weight more evenly across the bottom of your foot. Now it is southwest. He lives and breathes feet. time for you to see “Bone”. Bone Dexter. The foot man. He’s the (That doesn’t sound quite right, does it?)

“Funny you should bring that up,” he said to me. Sore feet, that guy who designed this insole, he’s right here in Albuquerque, and you got to go see him. is. “Come here and look at this.”

Okay. But what does he know about pickles?

What he showed me, proudly, looked to be a rubber or plastic insert to go in your shoe.

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James Dexter, aka “Bone” Dexter, is a man on a mission. He is driven by feet. He knows them, inside and out, like you know the back of your hand. Better, unless you know every bone and muscle in your hand.

He works with them. He studies them. He fixes them. And he’s done this for years. Around the clock. It is an obsession. A calling. A passion.

And that passion, strangely enough, is contagious. At least for me. When we talked about feet and his work with feet and his studies of feet, I found myself getting more and more interested. Fascinated even. And, dare I say it?… passionate about feet.

It starts, started really, with orthotics. Those things they make for your feet. He custom makes orthotics out of his office in his home. He doesn’t send off to have ‘em made somewhere else, like pretty much everybody else does. He makes them himself. He makes a cast of your foot, and from that a mold, and from that a custom orthotic made right there by hand. He’s been doing it for years, and by our quick calculations (well…

Stan’s calculations… he can at least get to the calculator on his phone… I don’t even know if I have a calculator on my phone)… by our calculations he’s made over 25,000 custom orthotics. By hand.

That’s a lot of orthotics.

But you don’t just make those things willy-nilly. No. They are usually built to address specific issues. Like my hip pains, for example. And those issues can roam the gamut all the way up from the feet up to the knees to the hips, the pelvis, and even the back and the neck.

There are real and very common connections between pains in the lower half of the body and problems with the feet. It is what he calls “the big toe-butt connection”. Your feet are having more impact on your body, literally, on a regular, daily basis than any other part of your body. How many times a day do your feet hit the ground? A week? A year? They take a constant,

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Duke City Fit constant pounding. Little wonder that a glitch “way down there at the bottom of my legs” can have such a big impact elsewhere.

you do your thing, and then transcribe that into dancing bones on a computer screen.

Close your mouth, old-timer.

For example, he tells me, you know how it And among the many weird and wonderful is when you get a rock in your shoe. Even a technologies, they also have incredibly sensitive little, tiny rock. You start adjusting your step, measuring devices that fit inside your shoe. They your gait, to compensate… naturally and measure the “pressure” on every part of your foot. possibly even unconsciously. If it persists, you Pressure, for those of you who are analytically might well, probably would, end up with pains inclined, is defined as the downward force elsewhere. divided by the surface area of the foot.

A fallen arch in one foot can work like that, though unlike the pebble, you might not even know it’s there. Not until it ends, perhaps, with a slanted, torqued pelvis and a lower back pain. Or a pain in the opposite knee. Many, many, many muscle and joint pains can ultimately be traced to issues with the feet. Or foot.

Ah, but there’s The 2 images to the left measure pressure on the feet without insoles. Notiice excessive “hotspots” at the heel & no pressure at all on the arch. Two images the rub. It may be to right indicate pressure distributed more evenly with most on ball & big toes. an issue with a foot, but what is the issue? What is the problem?

Or, more simply put... Which part of the foot is Since 1982 when he started into physical getting hit the hardest with every step? (See the therapy at UNM, Bone Dexter has developed photo of screen image insoles below.) some fairly sophisticated methodologies for Which brings us, in a roundabout and determining what the foot problems are, probably overly verbose way, back to that thing and for rectifying them. Key among these that Stan was wont to put into my shoe. That has been gait observation and analysis using insole. That insole was designed by our friend, treadmills and video recording devices (which, Bone. It was instigated by Stan, who wanted to themselves, have improved a hundreddevelop a good insole to replace the worthless fold in that time). And as important, even things supplied by the manufacturers of revolutionary, as these things have been running shoes. He and Bone got together and (and still are), they have remained rather designed, developed, and had manufactured… “subjective”. That is, they are based on the these insoles. They are built not only to cushion interpretation of an observer… a skilled, the feet, but to substantially support the feet. talented, and experienced observer… but still, And that support is intentionally designed to subjective. distribute the pressure, the hits, on the foot over a wider area. Spread it out. Reduce or eliminate Enter the technological age. The digital age. typical “hot spots”.

Remember the movie “Avatar”? Recall how Ingenious. they put digital markers on the human body, These insoles are designed for the typical foot. recorded the body’s movements, and then They are always worthwhile for their cushioning, translated it all into digital format. Ultimately and will provide support and distribution of this ended with computer-generated graphic pressure, to varying degrees, for almost any foot. displays.

They are based not only on years and years of Well, that ain’t happening just in the movies. modeling and experience and observation, but We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. now, on science. Technology. Bits and bytes and Bone, in addition to being the premier cold, hard data. orthopedic specialist in these parts, is also And warm, fuzzy dancing pelvises. now the “Director of the Center for Gait and I’m a believer. I’ve got ‘em in my shoes and my Motion Analysis” at the University of New feet feel fine. Heck, they feel so good, they just Mexico. What that translates into is some of might actually get me back to Kansas. the most sophisticated and cutting edge, Click, click, click. technologically advanced equipment in the U.S. Right here under our noses.

And what about our crotchety old friend? He’s Well, under our feet, really. I guess. Under, got ‘em, and his feet feel fine. Now he stands over, and around our feet, in perfect, graphic, proudly in the grocery aisle, no longer in need of 3-D detail. It is no longer just a guess, albeit a bench. an informed guess, about what is happening “This is all well and good,” he says, “But when you walk. It is measured, precisely, in all what kind of pickle does this here Bone fella of its digital glory. recommend?”

It is no longer subjective. It is objective.

I’ll get back to ya.

Measurable. Exact.

It is amazing. When I got my introduction As a final note, truth in story-telling, I have to the Gait and Motion lab at UNM, I believe a confession to make about the crotchety, old I walked around for the first half hour with guy… in the words of the Beatles… I am he and my mouth hanging open. I had no idea. That he is me and we are all together. Ken stuff… that stuff that you’ve only seen on the Discovery Channel… they’re doing it right Also, the “Bonz” insoles mentioned in this here. They attach reflective devices to your story are available at a discount for our readers. lower body at key points, photograph them Check out the ad and the coupon on the back with infrared at 100 times a second while cover of this issue.

Winter 2012-13

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Duke City Fit

Dr Elaine

s e l c s u M Dr Elaine Adams, DC

I don’t know if I have mentioned it before, but I am a huge football fan. (please don’t groan, I’m not a fair weather fan.)

I love the sport and everything connected with it. In my years in practice I have had the opportunity to treat many student athletes as well as a few professionals. Muscles are often injured in sports by strain, contusion, laceration, indirect trauma, rupture, hernia, and occasionally disease.

One thing that I have observed with both the students and the professionals is that they have a tendency to lose their flexibility and the loss of flexibility increases the likelihood of injury. Muscle injuries tend to have a more lasting effect than a fracture, since muscles heal with scar tissue and bones heal with calcification. So preventing muscular injuries is paramount in training and treating athletes. Weekend athletes need to have the same information. You want to prevent those muscular injuries and one of the ways to prevent that is to strength train and to remember always to increase flexibility. So to understand how to improve flexibility it is important to understand the structure of muscles and tendons and what types of injuries they are prone to.

The body is composed of over 600 muscles that move over 200 bones and each muscle is at least a little unique to the individual. When they work well together, bones, nerves, muscles and ligaments allow both gross movement and the fine movements required for an artist to work.

Most muscles are made up of about 75 percent water and 20 percent protein. Another five percent is made up of carbohydrates, lipids and inorganic salts and extractions. The

possibility of injury has a lot to do with the level of fitness and the vascularity of the tissue involved. Atrophied muscles or muscles that are not trained have a tendency to develop more interstitial fat and are also more prone to weakness and injury.

Skeletal muscles, which are the muscles we use in voluntary motions, have three major functions. First, skeletal muscle works with the bones of the skeletal system to produce movement. Second, muscle provides stabilization.

Finally, it generates heat; providing critical support to the regulation of body temperature. Skeletal muscle has four important characteristics that allow for its function. These characteristics are excitability, contractility, elasticity and extensibility.

The excitability and contractility of skeletal muscle refer to its reaction to a nervous electrical impulse. Excitability means the muscle can respond to a stimulus. Contractility means the muscle is able to shorten powerfully. An electrical impulse, or action potential, is carried by a nerve cell to a muscle cell. When the action potential reaches the end of the nerve cell, it is translated into a chemical signal and travels to a specified muscle cell. The muscle cell contracts, or shortens, in response to the signal it receives from the nerve cell. Skeletal muscle returns to its original shape after contracting or lengthening. The ability of a muscle to return to its resting length after stretching is called elasticity.

Muscles are attached to bone by tendons. So, when the muscle shortens, it pulls the tendon tight and moves the bone. Muscles can only pull on bones to move them, they never push. So in order for the body to move in many directions, muscles must have opposition. For example, the biceps in the upper arm flex the arm. The triceps -- the opposing muscle group to the biceps -extend the arm. The capability of skeletal muscle to stretch is called extensibility. Skeletal muscle can also lengthen beyond normal -- this usually occurs as the result of injury. When a muscle is stretched beyond its normal limits, it is called muscle In less than 30 minutes you will receive a complete Chiropractic, strain.

Orthopedic, and Physical examination for ONLY $37 Muscles provide for the with this ad! We offer full Rehabilitation, Nutritional Counseling, stabilization of joints. Joints are made when bones meet. The and Massage Therapy. ends that meet, or articulate with each other, are covered in 24 Hour Emergency Care a smooth cartilage that reduces Appointments Available! friction upon movement of the joint. However, the cartilage Most Insurance Accepted • We do the Paperwork doesn’t create a strong bond between the bones. Ligaments connect the joint together to attach bone to bone. However, (505) 891-3111 Rio Rancho Serving Albuquerque and Rio Rancho the most significant stabilizers for over 15 years!

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resting. This is called muscle tone. Good muscle tone is necessary for holding joints together.

Skeletal muscle is also important for maintaining posture.

Our muscles make small adjustments all the time to keep us sitting or standing up straight. Without muscles, our bodies would lose the battle against gravity -- a force that is constantly pulling us toward the ground.

Skeletal muscle makes up about forty percent of the body’s muscle mass. Heat is produced when muscles contract. Since skeletal muscle is such a significant portion of our body’s mass, it is crucial to maintaining proper body temperature.

Most of the chemical reactions that occur in your body -from enzyme functions to metabolism reactions -- work best at optimum body temperature. Normal body temperature is 98.6 degrees Farenheit or 37 degrees Celsius. Ever wonder why you shiver when you get cold? Shivering is the result of contracting muscles. It is one mechanism employed by the body to warm itself.

When a muscle is injured, it has a tendency to heal with scar tissue. This tissue is less flexible than the muscle tissue is normally and it can lead to a tendency to reinjure. So the goal of treatment is to minimize scar tissue Once you distinguish what type of injury you are dealing with you can make some decisions about what to do to promote healing and to prevent reinjury. It is typical of muscle injury for the pain to be out of proportion to the severity of the injury. This pain is the result of hematoma pressure which stretches adjacent muscle fibers and connective tissue as well as the result of irritation from extravascular blood. Since complete muscle rupture is a rare occurrence, the loss of functional ability is a secondary result.

Immediately after an injury a cold pad should be applied to prevent bleeding. If the injury is to an extremity, the extremity should be elevated and a compression bandage of some type should be applied. Gentle active movement should be encouraged to decrease the amount of pain. If there is a great deal of swelling, you should delay the movement until the swelling decreases.

Treatment of these types of injuries should be designed to inhibit hematoma development and promote rapid resolution.

This type of care will reduce pain and inhibit excessive adhesions and scar tissue. The pressure pad should be left in place for two to three days with tightening when necessary.

Gentle exercise should be encouraged. Bed rest may be necessary for the first day or two, but after that it promotes the development of scar tissue and muscular atrophy which can lead to some permanent damage. You gradually increase the exercise until the injured muscle is participating at a normal level again.

The 7 stretches on the next page are very elementary stretches but will begin to increase your flexibility and stability. These should be implemented into an exercise program to help prevent injury to muscle tissues. These will allow you to continue to participate in the sports that you love (like football) with a decreased likelihood of injury and an increased skill level. Contact your chiropractor for more advanced stretching and other conditioning recommendations.

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Torso Stretch

Purpose: Stretch the midsection (waist).

Starting Position: Sit tall with your feet flat on the floor, shoulderwidth apart.

Action: Place hands behind your head, as shown, with elbows out to the side. You can also cross your arms over your body or leave them at your sides, whichever is most comfortable.

Bend your body to one side, bending at the waist. Keep your head facing forward.

Return to starting position. Repeat on the other side.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times on each side.

Torso Twist

Purpose: Stretch the midsection (waist).

Starting Position: Sit tall with your feet flat on the floor, shoulder-width apart.

Action: Place hands behind your head, as shown, with elbows out to the side. You can also cross your arms over your body or leave them at your sides, whichever is most comfortable.

Twist your body to one side so you face the side wall. Your head should follow your body as you turn. Be sure to twist from your waist.

Return to starting position. Repeat on the other side.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times on each side.

Seated March

Neck Stretch

Purpose: Neck flexibility Starting Position: Sit tall, feet flat on the floor, shoulder-width apart.

Action: Turn your head to look over your shoulder. Keep your back against the chair and your shoulders facing forward.

Return to starting position. Repeat on the other side.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times on each side.

Winter 2012-13

Purpose: Increase hip flexibility.

Starting Position: Sit tall with your feet flat on the floor, shoulder-width apart.

Action: Raise one knee as high as you comfortably can.

Return to starting position.

Repeat on the other side.

Repeat: March 12 to 16 times (6 to 8 times per leg).

Quadriceps Stretch

Purpose: Stretch quadriceps muscle (front of thigh) and strengthen hamstring on back of thigh.

Starting position: Stand with your left side to the wall, 12 to 18 inches from the wall. Place your left hand against the wall for balance, keeping that arm slightly bent.

Action: Raise your right heel towards your buttocks. Reach back with your right hand and grab your foot at the heel, ankle or sock. If you can’t reach your foot, grab your pant leg or just raise your foot as high as you can and still feel comfortable.

Hold for two to three seconds. Be sure you’re standing tall and looking straight ahead. Your knee should be pointing toward the floor and your ankle should be in a straight line with your leg, not twisted to the side.

Let go of your foot and slowly return to starting position.

Then repeat.

Complete one set, then turn around and hold the wall with your right hand when working your left leg.

Note: Keep your standing leg slightly bent for better balance and to avoid injury. Stand tall and avoid leaning over.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times with each foot.

Calf Stretch Hamstring Stretch

Purpose: Stretch hamstring (back of thigh).

Starting Position: Stand with your left side to the wall, 12 to 18 inches from the wall.

Place your left hand against the wall for balance, keeping that arm slightly bent.

Action: Place your left heel on the floor in front of you. Lean forward from your hip (not your waist).

Push your hip back and reach toward your toe with your right hand. Your foot can be pointing up (as shown) or flat on the floor, whichever is more comfortable for you.

Make sure to keep your shoulders and back straight as you reach forward.

Hold for two to three seconds.

Return to starting position. Then repeat.

Complete one set and then turn around and work the other leg.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times with each leg.

Purpose: Stretch the calf (lower part of the back of the leg).

Starting position: Lean against a wall with both palms flat against the wall and your arms straight.

Action: Bend one leg, and place the foot on the ground in front of you. The other leg extends behind you with the knee slightly bent. Both feet point straight ahead.

Slowly move your hips forward, keeping your lower back flat. Be sure the heel of your back foot is flat on the floor, and your weight is in your back heel.

Hold for two to three seconds.

Return to starting position.

Repeat.

Complete one set, then work the other leg.

Repeat: 6 to 8 times with each leg.

9

Trammin’ It Ken Orth

Let’s face reality. When was the last time you went up the tram?

I’ll make a guess. It was probably when you had out-of-town visitors. Relatives from Nebraska, maybe.

And when was that?… back in aught-two?

I’m thinking, at the very least, it should be an annual event.

I know I was feeling a little out of touch when I realized my boys had been up a couple times since I last went. They went snowboarding last winter and took the tram up to save the 45 minute drive around the mountain. Twice. Where in the heck was I? Probably slaving away over a hot computer terminal. I definitely have to look into my priorities.

But, fate came to my rescue…

just in case.

Well, the extra layers were going up with us anyway. We’d already talked about the fact that it is normally about 15 to 20 degrees cooler up at the top than it is down here in the Burbs. It is also often windy up there. As a matter of fact, many of the trees on the western face of the crest are in a permanently “wind-blown” posture, even when the wind isn’t blowing. They are kinda like bonsai trees, shaped not by men, but by the ever blowing upslope west winds.

So we all had extra layers.. some more than others. Not to name names, but I am a firm believer in the old slogan, “If momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”

Jo and Conrad are my coffee buddies. There are many, many weekday mornings when you can find us sitting in the window of the Page One Bookstore. We’ll be gazing out the window at the Sandias, talking about this or that, enjoying the camaraderie over a cup of coffee. Sometimes the mountains are shrouded in clouds.

Not very often, though. Most of the time they are their stark, angular, beautiful selves. Crystal clear, as is the sky.

They are octogenarians. Jo and Conrad, that is. Not the Sandias.

The Sandias are a little bit older.

But not by much.

Or so I kid Conrad sometimes when he starts into his “when I was a boy” stories. The last one of those I remember was when we were talking about “rumble seats”.

Rumble seats?

For what it’s worth, Jo says that they were very uncomfortable and hard to get into. And even harder to get out of.

Okay. Discussions with folks in their 80’s can take you to some strange places, no doubt about it.

The Tram experience actually starts with the drive up Tramway.

It’s a drive I’ve made a thousand times or more. I usually notice the Sandias there to my side, (how can you not?) but when you are heading for the Tram, they take on a whole new look. I guess the knowing that you are about to go up there… up THERE… makes you look at the mountains with a different perspective. It is not that semi-fearful look that you might have if your intent is to HIKE up there… that “girding your loins” feeling. Summoning your strength.

No. Nor is it the “my, aren’t they pretty today” look you give them in everyday passing on your way to the kids’ soccer practice.

It is more like… well… it is more like the feeling you get looking at a gigantic roller-coaster that you’re about to ride. Kinda.

There’s a trace of fear, sure, but also a trace of excitement. A trace of wonder.

“I’m going up that thing.”

I’m going up there on a tram that was built back in 1965. A tram that is one of the longest in the world. A tram that goes over a canyon where the bottom is a mind-boggling one-thousand feet below you. A tram that climbs up through several distinct life zones and through a magnificent natural rock sculpture garden. It is a 17-minute ride that captures my imagination every time.

Every time.

Whether it is cloudy up at the top or crystal azure skies. Whether it is windy or calm or the sky is pasted with stars or the city is a hazy mess way back down there behind us. It is always a wondrous trip.

It makes my heart soar. The view, whichever way you look, is a view, a perspective, that you cannot get in any other way or from any other place. And it seems that every time I take the “flight” I see something new. I gawk like a darn tourist. I wander from window to window. I’ve seen deer, a bobcat, a bear, and the glinting reflection off the metal wreckage of the ill-fated TWA flight.

I remember clearly being down there on the trail to the crash site and looking up at the tram so far above. For a moment, I am back down there in the trees straining for a glimpse of the tram. We could hear it far better than we could see it. The sound of the tram, I remember we thought, was like the sound of someone dragging a metal pipe along a cement arroyo. Metallic. It was, I now know,

But, what I was talking about before I was rudely interrupted with this rumble seat stuff, was our view of the Sandias. On good clear days… most days… we can easily see the tram cables curving up to the crest. Even from here, through a window and 8 or so miles away. And sometimes, when the sun is right, we can even see the tram cars themselves… little white dots moving against a dappled gray mountain background.

I regale Jo and Conrad, sometimes, with stories of my exploits up around the tram. The Piño Trail, over in that canyon there to the south. That was the trail that tried to kill me once. The La Luz trail, with its horrific switchbacks. And the TWA crash site, of which you can sometimes see the sun glinting off pieces of wreckage from the tram itself, if the sun is in the right place.

I tried, periodically, to talk them into going up the tram with me, since they had never been. But they steadfastly refused. Jo’s a little scared of heights… somebody’s a little claustrophobic… or, or there’s not enough air up there.

It was always something, so I didn’t push it. Or not a whole lot.

But I did keep trying, now and then.

Finally, one day, they shocked me. They were ready and willing to make the trip.

Good enough. When are we going?

Next week.

Believe it or not, the day we had chosen to go up the tram turned out to be rainy, cloudy, and gray. It figures. It hadn’t rained for three months. We gazed up at the roiling mass of clouds on the Crest, and decided to sit in our traditional spots and have a cup of coffee instead. The Tram trip could wait.

Which it did, for nearly two weeks, though not because of inclement weather. Our calendars can get awfully cluttered, can’t they?

Strangely enough, on the second Tram Trip day, there were once again clouds up there. But this time they were high clouds. Way up there where the big jets go. They wouldn’t interfere with a trip up to the Crest except perhaps make it a bit cooler when the sun disappeared behind them. Above them. Whatever it is it does up there. Anyway, it wasn’t enough to even come close to stopping us again. We were on a mission, with a couple extra layers of clothing,

10

looking above me, the sound of those metal wheels running along that metal cable. Wheels running as they have for nearly 50 years.

I suddenly realize that I have been shirking my “tour guide” responsibilities. I glance around and find Conrad and Jo suitably occupied at a window, mesmerized even, their faces almost pressed up against the glass. I stay quiet. Sometimes I think that silence is, indeed, golden. And on this flight, strangely enough, even the tram operator is relatively subdued. The quiet is unlike many of the trips where there is incessant chatter about this or that… the size, the distance, the age, the astrological sign… emanating from either a type A personality tram operator, or a Texas tourist who is sure that the tram at Possum Kingdom must be bigger.

But the real dilemma of the ride up, if there is a dilemma, is which way to look: Up the mountain toward the direction you are traveling, or back down at the city and the valley as it unfolds below you. I used to say, back when I coached youth soccer, that I could always tell a rookie coach by the way he laid out his bright new shiny cones according to the book. Similarly, you can usually spot first time tram riders by the way they position themselves toward the back side window, looking down at the ever expanding view. Rookies. That view will be there when you are at the top.

What won’t be there are the views of the canyons and cliffs and walls from this aerial perspective as you pass up and over them.

That’s what I’m gawking at. Me and a little girl from Wichita who wants to see a bear.

No luck there. She has to settle for a tree growing straight out and up, sideways, from what appears to be a solid rock wall.

“I didn’t know a tree could grow out of a rock,” she says, half whispering.

So I start to quietly tell her about crevices in the rock that collect organic debris and dirt enough to get the roots going and how the roots of that tree are actually spreading open that crack and helping to break down the granite which will eventually end up as rocks and gravel down in the Rio Grande. But I lost her at “organic” and now she’s asking about the rock that looks like the face of a fish.

This queues the tram operator, who loudly directs the passengers attention to “Fish Rock” over on our right side…

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Disembarking at the top presents, at least for me, a strange little mixture of dueling emotions way, way back in the back of my consciousness, so distant and faint as to be barely noticeable. It is, I think, the thrill of being at the top of the Sandias intermingled with the sadness that the flight up is so quickly over. Often in life, we are so intent on the destination that we overlook the awesomeness of the journey. Not so on the tram. And that is a lesson for us all.

But the top of the tram can be, and often is, just the beginning of another adventure in and of itself.

It, after all, really IS at the top of the world. At least in these parts.

See that?, I point westward for my buddies.

That over there is Mount Taylor. Yes, it does have some snow on it and yes, it is in far western New Mexico out there near Grants. It’s about 75 miles away, I think, as the crow flies. And that crow better be in good shape, cuz he’ll probably be flying into a pretty good headwind. They’re having a Quadrathlon out there on Mount Taylor in February. It’s the 30th annual Quad. They bike, run, snowshoe, and ski up that mountain and then turn around and do ‘em all again back down the darn thing.

“They oughtta build a tram out there,” somebody says. “It’d be a heck of a lot easier.”

Probably a Texan.

And see that over there to the northwest… that little nub on the horizon? That’s Cabezon Peak. Up toward Cuba. You can hike up that thing if you’re brave enough. Or crazy enough.

As we wander around the Crest I point out different landmarks in the distance… The Manzanos, The Sangre de Cristos and Santa Fe, the Jemez, the Magdalenas.

I know that to most people, tourists in particular, they are just names. But then I think.. yeah, those are the Jemez mountains and I’ve hiked along the Jemez River there and it takes a good two hours to get there from here. I climbed up Cabezon Peak, and I can guarantee you that it is much, much more than a “nub”.

This place, this Crest, is rather like looking down on a giant diorama of North Central New

Winter 2012-13

Mexico. It is laid out before you in glorious, amazing detail. But you are not apart from this diorama, you are in it. The aspens are real, white and bare as they are of leaves. The ski runs on the back side beg for snow. The piñon pines cling precariously to cracks in the granite.

And the granite… oh, the granite. You are in its home here. It is jagged and rugged. It is sculpted and artistic. It is mean and infinitely old. It is young and playful and it dares the adventurous to come and dance. But always… always… there is a threat of imminent danger in that invitation. Hike it if you will, bold one. We shall see of what you are made.

We wandered a bit, my octogenarian friends and I. We did not, however, take up the granite’s gracious invitation to dance. We gawked and we talked and we breathed the clean air. We had lunch at 10,000 feet. When we finally trammed our way back down to the bottom, we discovered to our surprise that we had spent a full four hours in our tram adventure. Where did the time go?

Where indeed? Where does the time go? In and around and on the tram and upon the crest, the world is different. Time is different. It may have to do with the thin air. Or the vibrations of all that quartz. Or the magic of being at the top of the world.

It’s something. It’s definitely something.

Later… days, weeks later… Jo and Conrad and I again find ourselves at our Page One coffee hangout. I ask them if they have any comments on our Tram Adventure for the story.

There is a brief pause while we all gaze out the window in silence at the mountains and the tram cables and the crystal blue sky. Strangely, we’re all smiling when our thoughts come back to the table.

“They should go,” Jo says. “Everybody should go.”

And Conrad adds, “I will never forget the trees growing right out of the side of the rock. It was awesome. You can quote me. It was awesome.”

Consider yourself quoted.

“We’re going up again,” he says. “We’re definitely going up again.”

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11

Duke City Fit

Dynamic Fitness Lifestyle The POWER of “GLUTEN FREE” Living in 2013

Dwain Kindelberger has been a Personal Trainer since 1981. He is a graduate of The National Academy of Sports Medicine, and is the owner of Designer Bodies Exclusive Personal Training and Nutrition Management Center.

Visit us on the web at

www.designerbodies.net

The information contained in this article is not meant to treat, diagnose or cure any ailments or diseases. Please consult your physician before starting any exercise or nutrition program.

12

We wish you a Merry Fitness… We wish you a Merry Fitness… We wish you a Merry Fitness and a Healthy New You! Lucky for you… you were not actually able to hear me sing that! But I sure do hope you felt my effort to make you smile!

Gluten free living seems to be hitting the world by storm these days. There are books and websites dedicated to gluten free living.

Restaurants that specialize in gluten free menus. And even most restaurants that don’t specialize in gluten free menus, at least have a few gluten free items on their menus.

We can now go into grocery stores, farmers and whole food markets and see that they offer hundreds of gluten free food products on their shelves. Hmmm, do you think there may be something to this?

There are still those that think gluten free living is just another fad. But I firmly believe what we are experiencing as a society is a reflective response to a real problem. A quality of life problem that needs to be addressed by many, if not most. I don’t personally know anyone that has eliminated wheat/gluten from their diet that didn’t feel a major difference in their energy levels, digestive efficiency and overall wellbeing within a couple of weeks.

Fact of the matter is, I have been preaching and teaching gluten free living for over 20 years to most of our clients. I have found that it is almost paramount for digestive health, oxidation and healthy elimination in most people who are suffering with excess body fat, inflammation issues of all kinds as well as various auto-immune diseases. I have now come to accept that this is also an issue that even affects those that appear to be extremely fit. As you delve further into this article I believe that you will begin to understand why and how gluten induced issues have developed epidemically.

After more than 30 years of practical nutrition management experience I am confident when I say, yes, gluten is a major problem.

But the problem is not just gluten. In fact, I have learned that wheat products in particular are contributing to obesity, skin disorders, diabetes, heart disease, cancer, dementia and even depression.

And did you know that recent studies confirm that there is a form of gluten induced Schizophrenia? Gluten intolerances can be very serious issues that need to be addressed!

This is why I believe that statistics show there are now more than 25% more obese people than there are undernourished people worldwide. This is also why globally we find that chronic lifestyle and dietary driven diseases kill more than twice as many people as infectious diseases. These non-communicable chronic diseases will cost our global economy in the neighborhood of $50 trillion over the next 20 years.

Wouldn’t you agree that prevention is much cheaper and offers less heart ache than dealing with the health issues caused by eating for short term satisfaction? Personally, I’d rather eat with long term quality of life in mind!

With that said… Doesn’t it make the most sense to start looking at nutrition as the answer? Like I stated in my article “The POWER of Nutritional Knowledge for Living Dynamically” in the Fall 2012 issue of Duke City Fit... It is pretty simple… If nutritional deficiencies did not exist, neither would the problems associated with them.

And to quote the very wise and famous Mr. Thomas Edison who believed with all of his heart… “The doctor of the future will no longer treat the human frame with drugs, but rather will cure and prevent disease with nutrition.” I’d bet that Mr. Edison would be turning over in his grave if he was aware of the overall health and wellbeing of our world!

A quick note of importance: more than two dozen different types of sugar are contributing to a plethora of diseases and health issues associated with the average American’s diet. But we will leave sugar for another time and keep the focus of this article on wheat/gluten.

Studies show that the history of wheat actually parallels the history of chronic disease and obesity around the world. Supermarkets today contain walls and walls of food-like products that contain cleverly hidden wheat/gluten that really doesn’t need to be in them. It is so bad that it has been estimated that each American now consumes more than 50 pounds of wheat flour every year.

However, it is not just the amount of wheat/gluten that is the issue but also the hidden components of today’s wheat that drives obesity and disease. Today’s wheat is different than the grains of yesteryear.

That’s right today’s wheat is not the same wheat that our greatgrandmother’s used to bake with. You know, it was the wheat that was long-stalked, golden, and blew in the wind... As in the “... amber waves of grain...” .

The wheat of yesteryear originally had 14 chromosomes. But today’s wheat, which is commonly referred to as Dwarf Wheat, has 42 chromosomes. That’s a whopping 28 extra chromosomes. They are genetically coded for cross-breeding. These additional chromosomes were genetically engineered to produce gluten proteins to kill fungus, bugs, and bacteria.

This process in turn makes the wheat stalks shorter. This is essentially why it is called Dwarf Wheat and is often derogatorily referred to as “Franken-wheat”. The shorter stalks ultimately enable the crops to grow faster.

The initial reason for the first hybrids that were engineered back in the late 1960’s was to increase the crop yield in an effort to decrease world hunger. In fact, American Norman Borlaug was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1970 for his contributions to increasing the world’s food supply.

Unfortunately the genetically modified wheat of today was never really tested for its effect on human consumption. So essentially, this has been a science experiment gone horribly wrong. This newer wheat hybrid is loaded with starch and gluten proteins that are known to cause inflammation at various levels, including celiac disease. Hence, we see an obese, diabetic and arthritic nation as a result.

The new modern wheat may look like the wheat of yesteryear to the naked eye. However it is very different because it contains extremely high levels of Amylopectin, which is basically a Super Starch.

Amylopectin is a soluble polysaccharide and highly branched polymer of glucose. It is one of the two components of starch, the other being amylose. When dissolved, Amylopectin starch has a lower tendency to gel during cooling and storage. This is the main reason why the waxy starches are used as thickening agents. And is basically how we get those big old fluffy loaves of bread and various baked goods… In my professional opinion they should be called “baked bads!”

For example, two slices of whole wheat bread now raises your blood sugar more than two tablespoons of table sugar. That’s ridiculous… And check this out! There is virtually no difference between whole wheat and white flour products any more. That’s right… The proof is in the pudding! In people with diabetes, both white and whole grain breads raise blood sugar levels anywhere from 80 to 120 mg/dl over pre-feeding levels.

Yummy! Would you like some nice lean organic turkey breast with lettuce and tomato on two slices of diabetes? No wonder this stuff is referred to as Franken-wheat!

When digested, the gluten proteins in wheat are converted into shorter proteins called “polypeptides”. In some people these polypeptides act like the endorphins one gets from an exercise high.

These endorphomaniacs (I made that word up) bind to the opioid receptors in the brain, making some people actually feel euphoric.

Opioids refer to a group of substances that share a particular chemical structure very similar to morphine.

These wheat polypeptides are absorbed into the bloodstream during digestion and travel across the blood brain barrier. They are often referred to as “Gluteomorphins” as in “gluten” / “morphine”.

However, this remains controversial in theory amongst many health care professionals. My guess is because the pharmaceutical companies have not yet come up with a drug to mask the symptoms of this process. The bottom line for many people is that today’s wheat is an addictive appetite stimulant.

So let’s do a quick recap and go over some key points to think about. Gluten is a protein found in wheat, barley, rye, spelt and oats. It can cause celiac disease, which triggers severe inflammation throughout the body and has been linked to autoimmune diseases, mood disorders, autism, schizophrenia, dementia, digestive disorders, nutritional deficiencies, diabetes, cancer, and more. It has been noted that upwards of 99% of the people who have problems with gluten or wheat have NOT yet been diagnosed.

The problems with wheat are real, scientifically validated and ever so present. Getting off wheat may not only make you feel better and help you lose body fat, it could possibly save your life. So to me, our options are quite simple. Either get rid of the genetically modified hybrids and grow all grains organically or eat mostly gluten free foods all together. Or suffer the consequences.

Until next time… Remember to eat to achieve your long term goals, not short term satisfaction!

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Duke City Fit

Winter 2012-13

13

Duke City Fit Winter 2012

The

Tw in s are

Alright Look, if you’re gonna go camping or hiking in the cooler months, the direction you must go is obvious. South. And with that in mind, I don’t know how much truth there is to my claim that I felt the Guadalupe Mountains called to me. They’re south, aren’t they?

But call to me they did. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

I had a few relatively free days on the calendar and a tremendous urge to get back under the stars. So I made the spontaneous decision to load up the gear and head for southeast New Mexico. It would be warmer there, I knew. And even if worse came to worse and the weather refused to play ball, I could always get a good hike in traipsing around in the Caverns of Carlsbad… the place where neither sleet, nor snow, nor gloom of night could stay the hardy hiker.

And strangely enough, those caverns below and the mountains above are very much related to one another. Two sides of the same coin as it were. They are fraternal twins, as different as night and day, but cut from the same genetic cloth.

It was an ancient inland sea down there, or so they say. There was a mighty coral reef, living and thriving and growing as prehistoric coral reefs were wont to do.

Then, the reef died, as reefs also tend to do, even prehistoric ones. It died and was buried beneath sand and silt and grit and all that kind of stuff for another millennia or so. Layer upon layer upon thick, heavy layer.

At some point, perhaps in response to a cosmic wake-up call of some kind, or maybe just as the result of a terran temper tantrum, the earth bucked and heaved and pushed that long buried reef and sea bed back up to the surface.

Well, looky, looky what I found!

In the case of the southernmost part of that sea bed, the old reef, it was actually thrust up ABOVE the surface… way above… way up into the desert sky. Or whatever kind of sky it was back then. There, exposed as it was, it was battered by the wind and the rain. Denuded.

Its temporal coat of sand and grit was stripped away like the icing on the cake in MacArthur Park. The one that was left out in the rain. But there wasn’t a soggy cake left beneath that sweet cream icing flowing down… no… there was an old, crusty coral reef in there, and it jutted up then: ragged, jagged, and mean. There it stands to this day, right on the New Mexico-Texas border. The Guadalupe Mountains.

As that all was happening on the southern end of the ancient sea bed, things were going a tad bit different up on the northern end. There, the upward thrusts of Mother Earth had brought the old sea bed only to the surface. While the wind and rain scoured what little was at the top, subterranean waters worked there way into the layers below and did their magic down there in the dark. They rushed and swirled and percolated. They eroded it from within, gutting the core with mineral rich broths and caustic, acidic brews, a way, way down below. These vast, hollowed out spaces became known as Carlsbad Caverns when they were finally discovered not so very long ago.

Now, all these many millennia after their rather ignoble birth (or

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Ken Orth

going into and through the Caverns. The parking lot is usually brimming with RV’s from faraway exotic places, like Michigan or Idaho. But if that day happens to be a winter weekday not associated with a holiday, you may well see a lessoning of the hordes.

So it was on a cool, cloudy Tuesday morning, bright and early, that I parked just a couple spots out from the front and ambled across the parking lot toward the entry through the visitor center. I had noticed an RV from South Dakota pull in right before me, and as I walked I heard, rather than saw, a couple emerge from it behind me. She was already in full vocal form, haranguing the poor guy loudly for this and that… Did he take his aspirin? Where is the camera? Does it have batteries? Why did you park so far away? . . .

I stepped up my pace and hustled on in, not wanting to dampen my cavern mojo too much.

I knew the process from my earlier visits, and shot straight to the empty ticket counter for the $7 self-guided tour and out through the back door for the short walk to the natural entrance. There are a variety of entry options which I ignored… the hand-held audio device that talks to you about the caverns as you walk through them, or the option to enter via the elevator, or perhaps a ranger guided tour.

None of these for me. I wanted as much quiet and isolation as I could possibly get, which

is it eons?), these two twins, the Guadalupes and the Caverns, are approaching their golden years. Or maybe even their dotage. They are like twins that were separated in their youth by forces beyond their control, growing and living in distinctly different environments.

But now, back together again, they stand, or sit, side by side at a retirement party where the solar system, presumably, will be giving each of them a gold watch. Their peers are all dead by now, so the people winding their way through the reception line are mere youngsters who really can’t believe that they are actually twins. They don’t look a bit alike, one boisterous, tall and angry, and the other stooped, subdued and quiet.

The thing is, though, if one is going to go down there to southeast New Mexico to go through that reception line, one cannot, or should not, do so without greeting both of the aging codgers. It is not only a matter of politeness and respect, but perspective. Thoroughness. It is, you see, a tale of TWO brothers, and ‘twould be best for all of us to experience the whole story and not just half.

The popular brother, of course, is the quiet one. The one who is least apt to pop you in the chops if you’re not paying attention. On any given day, there will be a lot of people

admittedly, would probably not be very much.

But I certainly didn’t want the RV couple right on my tail, that was for sure.

The natural entrance is a mixed bag to me. A dichotomy. It is a wonder of nature, a yawning, gaping maw into the underworld. It is a tad bit frightening. I am amazed that the original explorers were brave enough to even go down in there, much less with just a flaming torch.

But that natural wonder has been compromised. It is now replete, everywhere,

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For more information Call Grants Park and Recreation 505-285-3542 PO Box 85, Grants, NM 87020

www .

MtTa faceboo k.c ylorQ uadr om/ athlo n

www.mttaylorquad.org “The Quad” is a 43-mile race to the top and back down of 11,301 foot Mt Taylor.

Start out at 6,500 feet biking 13 miles out of town and up into the ponderosa pines.

Run 5 miles on gravel turning to snowpack. Cross-country ski 2 miles, including the infamous “heartbreak hill”. Top it out with 1 mile to the top on snowshoes. The race is only half over. Now reverse the events and make the 21 miles back down!

Do it solo. Do it as a team. Do it because you can.

with the awful concrete artifices of humanity. An amphitheater squats there, indolent and selfish, as if the whole thing exists solely for someone’s weekend entertainment. I pass it and marvel at mankind’s mendacity. And it is with a strange mixture of sadness and awe that I descend the asphalt switchbacks. Alone. Quietly and carefully, my eyes and my heart wide, wide open.

The Caverns speak a foreign language. It is a story really, of shadows and subtle nuances of black and white. It is a difficult story to hear, much less to comprehend.

It is a timeless story, punctuated always by the sound of water dripping in the unseen blackness of its recesses. Each drip… each drop… is laden with minerals or acid and is working this cavern still, building it up or tearing it down, as it has throughout time.

Every single little drop may be seen as a metaphor, a representation, of perhaps a thousand years. Or a hundred thousand. Come and gone, like that. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The Caverns, given the opportunity, inspire my thoughts in dozens of directions. I think about time itself, and how very long it is. I think about artistry, and how the same medium may be used in so many different ways. I think that in this darkened world, the caverns are sculpting me even as they sculpt themselves. They do not inundate my senses with a barrage of color and sound and violent action as so much of my world does. Rather, they enhance what I have. They encourage me to dig deeper into myself, into my hearing and seeing… to use what I have more fully. And to appreciate that I can.

Of course, the caverns are the caverns and eventually there is the Big Room and the tours and the elevators and yes, the nagging couple from South Dakota. (I think that maybe he has long since turned his hearing aid way down.) The Big Room is grand. It is a marvel. It is a series of marvels. But it is not the semi-quiet passages of the natural entrance, and I’ll not be hearing too much of the cavern’s dripping voices in here. This is more like wandering the Smithsonian in the wake of a Japanese tour bus. So this is where I pull out my iPod and my earbuds and create the proper atmosphere for myself within myself. My music of choice is “Journey Into Amazing Caves” by the Moody Blues, and it works perfectly! Next time I may have to try Rick Wakeman’s “Journey to the Center of the Earth”.

In the end, the Caverns impress, as I knew they would. For me, it was a three hour gawking tour through the underworld. But unlike most tours above, with binoculars and telephoto lenses, this one is more personal and in your face. I wasn’t just seeing it, I was living it. I was breathing it. I was smelling it. I could feel its dampness on my skin and my eyes were dilated about as far as they could go. I was not so much an observer as a participant… an ingredient… another in a long line of dripping ingredients that has shaped, moulded, and sculpted these caverns for time immemorial.

The second half of this story, about the Guadalupe Mountains, can be found later in this issue. There, you will also find all of the details you’ll need if you are thinking about going to either of these special places in southeastern New Mexico.

Winter 2012-13

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Pueblo ruins of Gran Quivera.

Carlsbad Caverns

Guadalupe Mountains.

Grand Staircase at Devil’s Hall.

Go South, Young Man, Go South Sitting Bull Falls

Guadalupe Mountains

Antelope near Three Rivers

Duke City Fit Ken Orth

The Old Wool Hat

The first skis I bought (mid 1970’s) were boards.

Not just “boards” as we called them, but BOARDS. Literally. They were bent, pointed, wooden boards with laminates on the top and the bottom. They were Harts,

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and state of the art. I think they were 210’s. (That is the length of the skis, in centimeters. 210’s are exceptionally long by today’s standards). Skinny, long and narrow, that was what we wanted. The way I learned to ski was to point the darn things downhill, tuck, and go. Turning was for sissies. You hauled butt down that mountain as fast as you could. Speed was the great exhilarator. And long skis spread your weight out more, reducing drag, and letting you achieve greater speed.

Of course, the longer skis were also harder to turn, especially in powder snow. You had to make wide turns.

WIDE turns. Really wide. But who wants to turn sharp, anyway? Just slows you down. It’s kind of a last resort maneuver, dontcha know.

That type of skiing also fit the terrain where we most commonly skied, which was Arapahoe Basin, a ski area about 60 miles west of Denver. A-Basin is the highest ski area in North America, and as such, one of its features is that most of the runs are above tree-line. That means, of course, bigger, wider runs.

With no trees. The only obstacles you had to turn for were rocks. And even most of those were covered with snow.

Point ‘em downhill and go.

Skis, and ski areas, have changed mightily since then. The long, skinny, pointed skis slowly evolved over the years into the shorter, wider, rounded skis of today.

Parabolically shaped skis. Which is to say, rather like a long, stretched out figure 8… wider at the front and back and gracefully curved throughout. These changes have greatly increased the ski’s maneuverability. You are more easily able to make sharper turns, under control, even in powder.

Turns out that this makes skiing safer. Who’d a thunk it?

For what it’s worth, my skiing preferences evolved over the years, right alongside the skis. Or “on” ‘em, I guess is a more accurate description. The “tuck and go” strategy gave way to a fondness for weaving through the trees in deep powder. My boys and I found a good place for this last winter at Angel Fire on the back side of the mountain.

It’s called Eagle Glade. Not too steep and not too thickly wooded. Weaving through the trees in powder. Heaven.

boot to a ratchet type device that you levered down onto the heel of your boot. It took arm strength to get that lever down, and believe me, you didn’t want to have your finger in the wrong place when it finally snapped down. With a vengeance.

The original idea of the bindings was that your feet would stay attached to the boards come hell or high water. However, it was soon discovered that having a long board attached to your foot could apply a great deal of torque to your ankle and knee. Especially when the board went one way and your leg and body went the other. Who knew? Right away, development of better, safer, easier bindings took precedence, and that technology moved faster and further than the others.

The cables disappeared. Bindings would let the toe of your boot pop out if there was too much torque. And then you could “step into” the bindings, saving that arm pressure (and possibly, your finger). Then, later, the heels could pop out, too.

One of the greatest advancements, and perhaps the least appreciated by those who have never known about what came before, are “breaks” on skis. Breaks are simple enough. They’re just spring-loaded nards that pop down when there is no boot in the binding, stopping the uninhabited ski from sliding on down the hill unimpeded. They are so universally common now, that they aren’t even noticed. But had you been skiing in the pre-brake days… well…

What you had back then was a safety strap. This was a strap attached to the binding and fastened around your ankle. The idea was that if the ski did come off your foot, as in a major tumble, the safety strap would prevent the ski from rocketing down the hill, possibly injuring someone and also making it easier to find.

But the name “safety strap” was a wild misnomer.

What happened, of course, if you had a major fall and a ski popped off, was that not only were you possibly tumbling down a hill out of control, but you also had a five or six foot long board swinging around wildly at the end of a strap attached to your foot. Possibly two boards flailing around if you happened to pop out both skis.

“Safety” strap, my butt. Those boards became dangerous weapons, and anything but safe. I have a scar on my forehead, just above my hairline, where an errant ski smacked me a good one. And not just any errant ski, it

Photo by Chris McLennan

I have a very old wool skier’s hat. It is, or it was, an “official” skier’s hat, modeled after the one warn by Jean-Claude Killy. Jean-Claude was a famous French skier. At least he was after 1968 when he won the triple crown of skiing at the Winter Olympics…gold medals in all three skiing events, the downhill, the slalom, and the giant slalom. My mother gave me the hat when I first started skiing.

Growing up in Nebraska back in the day, skiing was really not a part of our culture at all. The closest we came to skiing was watching JeanClaude at the Olympics on the black and white tv. But my college roommate was from Colorado.

Liberal hippy that he was, he introduced me to more than just skiing, but that is another story. He did get me going on skiing though.

Anyway, my mother gave me the hat for Christmas right before my second ski trip out to the Rockies. I guess it was becoming apparent by then that I was going to persevere in the sport. The hat cost a little more than we could really afford, it and the matching wool sweater.

But I guess my mom thought that if I was going to do something as exotic as skiing, I should have proper clothing. Not only should it be warm, it should be stylish. In fact, in her mind, it was probably more important for me to be stylish than warm. She didn’t want me to look like the hick from Nebraska amongst all those potential Olympians.

The hat and the sweater were also her way of building up my confidence. She believed, back in those days, that I could do just about anything that I set my mind to, and she wanted me to feel that way, too. So the Jean-Claude look was her way of helping me out. She thought, “you are what you believe you are”. Or perhaps, in this case, “If you dress like a professional skier, you’ll act like a professional skier.”

(For what it is worth, that philosophy of hers seems to have stuck with me. When I was coaching youth soccer, I’d tell the little guys that it didn’t matter whether they were good or not. “Just act like you’re good” I’d say.

“Pretend you’re a great player while you’re out there.”

And before you knew it, they wouldn’t be pretending anymore.)

I still have that ski cap. It is beat up, faded, worn, and even has a hole in it. I have “retired” it so many times that I’ve lost count. I’ve told myself that I need to stop wearing it. It’s ratty and it doesn’t fit right anymore. No one knows who Jean-Clause Killy is. And no one cares. I get occasional rude comments about it… usually from some dude boarder wearing a jester’s cap or something.

I tell ‘em they’re just jealous.

If it’s the least bit warm or sunny while I’m skiing, I take it off and stash it inside my jacket. I guess I’m a little bit ashamed of it. But it’s my cap, for heaven’s sake.

Of all of the ski equipment I’ve gone through over the years… the gloves, boots, poles, skis, sweaters, jackets, goggles… the only original equipment I have left is that ratty, blue hat. And when I look at new hats in the ski shop, I just can’t get myself to do it.

Thinking about that hat got me thinking about how skiing itself has changed over the years. Skiing, and everything around it. Everything about it.

and Other Ski Stories

Another aspect of skiing that has changed dramatically over the years is the way your feet are attached to the skis… the boots and the bindings. The first ski boots I wore, when I first learned to ski, were leather, lace-up boots. This is such a far cry from the stylish, wildly exotic, hard plastic boots of today as to be almost laughable. Go ahead, yuck it up. They didn’t support your ankles anywhere near enough. In order to make turns (in those long, skinny skis), you had to have real ankle strength. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why sharp turns were rather roundly shunned. Point ‘em and go and save some wear and tear on your ankles.

And the word “bindings” was born of that era. Because that’s what the darn things did, they bound your feet to the skis. They attached ‘em and kept ‘em there. They weren’t elegant and they weren’t technological wonders. They hadn’t built a better mousetrap yet. My original bindings included a great big powerful spring that was connected to two cables that ran back alongside both sides of your

was one of my own! I remember it was bleeding pretty good and my buddies thought maybe I should go over to the ski patrol building and get it looked at. Naw, that’d cut into my ski time. Wipe it off with some snow and get back at it. Point ‘em and go.

Continued on Page 21, Just turn the page

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Duke City Fit

Winter 2012-13

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Duke City Fit

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The Old Wool Hat

Duke City Fit Continued from Page 18

keeping their eyes on their skis and the ruts that they don’t notice the rapidly approaching train wreck until it is too late.

There’d be a pile of arms and legs and skis and cuss words… fortunately there aren’t young kids around. This is the “advanced” tow.

But perhaps the most colorful of the Strangely enough, there was another “weapon” associated with skiing back in the dangers of the old rope tows came up near the top... day. The rope tow.

Remember that most skiers carried ski The chair lifts that we ride these days poles, and in order to free up their hands to are about as ubiquitous and overlooked grab the rope, they’d all let the poles dangle as ski brakes. Triples, quads, high speeds, from the straps around their wrists as they gondolas… they all make getting to the rode up. It was the way it was done. top of the mountain a relatively easy and Well, up there at the top, about 20 feet quick process. But it wasn’t always that before the top wheel, when it was time to way. Like all the other ski improvements, “dismount” from that rapidly moving rope, chair lifts came in along the way. Prior to you’d kind of pull yourself forward a bit the invasion of chairlifts from Switzerland, and propel yourself off to the side, letting skiers were dragged up the mountain in go of the rope at the last second. Fine. But one way or another. The most primitive of occasionally a problem occurred. One of these, and the original, was the rope tow. your gloves stuck to the rope. Sometimes The rope tow, like the safety strap, was it was because it had frozen there in the simple enough. It was a long, long, long cold. Or perhaps the friction of the rope had rope that ran around a big motorized kinda melted the cheap nylon of the glove pulley wheel at the bottom of the into place. Or had gummed up the old duct mountain, up around a matching freetape. For whatever reason, the glove would spinning wheel at the top, and back on be yanked off your hand and go gliding on down the mountain where it attached to itself. To get up the mountain, you grabbed up with the rope, usually with the pole still dangling from it. There, the glove and the onto the rope and held onto it for dear life pole would hit the rapidly spinning, massive as it attempted to drag you and the skiers pulley wheel and head on around it. Whip in front of you, and the skiers behind you, on around it. Gaining momentum and all of you, up the mountain. Depending centrifugal force as it went around until the upon how steep it was, and how fast it pole was flung free to go arching into the air moved, and how crowded it was, the rope like a javelin. tow could be a pleasant leisurely stroll up Like a javelin? the mountain on a sunny day, or it could Usually right in the vicinity of a bunch of be a terrifying, dangerous assault of the people milling around trying to get their Matterhorn. Or so I recall. equipment straightened out and certainly For one thing, the “advanced” tows, the not paying much attention to the slope ones that took you up to the good stuff, above them. If there were any experienced were usually moving at a good clip and tow skiers around who had been through going up pretty steep stuff. These were it before, and noticed what was going not for beginners. And they scared the daylights out of everybody else. When you on, they might yell “pole incoming” or first grabbed onto ‘em, they wanted to yank something like that, and everybody would turn to watch the pole flight. There might your arms out of your shoulder sockets.

So you’d let the rope “slip” just a little bit as even be a round of applause for a good one, or one that sent it over a cliff or into a tree. you got going. This saved your shoulders, Good times. but it wreaked havoc on your ski gloves.

Eventually, it tore ‘em to shreds. Most of There are many, many other aspects us veterans had a few layers of duct tape of skiing that have grown and improved wrapped around the palms of our gloves over the years. Pretty much every aspect. for this very reason.

Particularly, in the materials from which And once you got going, you weren’t things are made. Gloves are waterproof, out of the woods. There were usually a clothes are warmer, skis are made of lighter, couple of ruts in the snow that your skis ran in as the rope dragged you along. Woe sturdier, more flexible stuff. Skiing has continually gotten safer, easier, and more to the person who let his skis slip out of accessible. You don’t have to have ankles of those ruts and go shooting off at an angle iron anymore, nor nerves of steel and gloves away from the rope. Or worse yet, just of duct tape. Anyone can do it. Even the one ski goes shooting off while the other methods of teaching skiing have improved. stays innocently in its rut, trucking along, But, too, there is still room and places unaware that it is about to cause a severe to go for the skiers who want to push case of “the splits”. If there aren’t very the envelope. Not only the “tuck it and many people on the rope in front of you go” group (are there any of those still or behind you, you might be able to pull the rope a little bit out of its plane, but not around?), but the trick skiers (a sign at one ski area warns “inverted aerials are not far. And it wants to come back. You might find yourself laid out, almost parallel to the recommended”), and the steep powder purists, carving their lazy loops down the ground, with your skis over there going steepest of slopes. that way and your arms over here going After many decades of skiing, I still get this way, desperately hanging on, hoping the yearning as the weather changes and against hope that you can get your skis the snowflakes start to fall. I have it now. I’m turned back while the skier behind you going to take my skis over to the shop and cusses loudly. “Just let go, you damn fool”. get ‘em tuned up. And I’m going to dig out Sometimes there’d be a 10-car pile-up when somebody goes down and is unable my old, wool hat.

After all, if you’re gonna be good skier, to get out of the way of oncoming traffic. you gotta dress like a good skier.

Or maybe loses their grip on the rope and starts sliding down the ruts backwards. And everybody behind them is so desperately Safety straps, quite quickly, went the way of cables, leather boots, and wooden boards. Thank God. I still have a dark stain on the inside of an old, woolen, JeanClaude Killy ski cap to remind me of how grateful I am about that.

Winter 2012-13

2401 Jefferson NE • Albuquerque, NM 87111 (505) 884-8012 • www.libertygym.com

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Duke City Fit Dr Jason Karp

Top 10 Marathon Tips Based on his book “Running a Marathon for Dummies” Most runners run races without giving much thought as to how they’re going to run the race. They just pay their entry fee and run, without any intention to their actions, hoping for a good result. Running a successful marathon takes knowledge, planning, and execution. And a little courage.

When you train smartly and effectively and you develop and execute your race plan, you’ll achieve your potential and run a great race that you can be proud of.

Here’s 10 strategies and tips for you to do just that.

1. Run More

Training for a marathon isn’t just about one long run each week; it’s about the total amount of running you do.

Although you don’t have to run more than 100 miles per week like the best marathon runners in the world, you still have to run more than you probably are. Many novice runners don’t run enough miles during the week to support the long run on the weekend. You don’t want to run four or five miles for two or three days during the week and then shock your legs with a 15-mile run on Sunday. You may be able to get away with that once or twice, but do that week after week after week and you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. In addition to your long run, do a midweek, mediumlong run that’s about 65 to 75 percent of the length (or duration) of your long run.

2. Do Long Tempo Runs

Long tempo runs (and their sister workout, marathon pace runs) are among the most important workouts of your marathon preparation. Too many runners, especially beginners training for their first marathon, focus too much on just the long run. If nothing else, complementing your long run each week with a long tempo run at a little slower than your tempo pace or at marathon race pace goes a long way (pun intended) toward preparing you for the marathon, both physically and mentally. Don’t neglect the power of the long tempo, which trains you for sustained, faster-paced aerobic running and hardens you mentally to hold a solid aerobic pace for a long time.

3. Work with a Knowledgeable Coach

Dr. Jason Karp is a nationallyrecognized running coach, 2011 IDEA Personal Trainer of the Year, and owner of RunCoachJason.com.

He holds a PhD in exercise physiology and is founder and coach of REVO2LT Running Team™. He writes for international running, coaching, and fitness magazines, is the author of five books, and is a frequent presenter at national fitness and coaching conferences. His popular training programs, DVDs, and his latest book, Running a Marathon For Dummies, are available at www.runcoachjason.com

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A knowledgeable coach is the greatest asset you can have as a runner. A coach designs a training program for you, monitors what you’re doing, and motivates and inspires you to do things that you never thought possible.

You see much better results with a coach than you do training on your own.

4. Pace Yourself

Proper pacing is paramount for the marathon. If you start at a pace that’s too far over your head, it will come back to haunt you later in the race, as you run out of precious fuel. I’ve seen too many runners run a strong first half, only to crash and burn in the second half, being relegated to walking and even stopping to stretch and hydrate. The most physiologically efficient way to run a marathon is to run the first and second halves in the same time (or run the second half slightly faster than the first), with as little fluctuation in pace as possible throughout the race.

5. Consume Carbs During the Race

During the marathon, your muscles use carbohydrate at a faster rate than you can replenish blood glucose, but the trick is to try to delay running out of glucose for as long as possible. How you do this is a little bit science and a little bit art. Here are some guidelines: • Consume carbohydrate that’s quickly digestible and easy on your stomach, like gels, gummy bears, and liquid.

• Begin ingesting carbohydrate about 30 minutes before you start to feel fatigued, about an hour or so after starting the race, so you can absorb it into your blood and use it for energy. Ingest about 100 to 120 calories (25 to

30 grams) of carbohydrate every 20 to 30 minutes or so to maintain blood glucose levels.

• Instead of consuming a whole energy gel packet at once, which is a lot for your stomach to process, consume half at a time and chase it with water to speed digestion. You want to create a steady stream of carbohydrate coming into your blood to delay fatigue.

6. Water

Dehydration can become a big problem in the marathon. You lose water by sweating much faster than you can replace it by drinking, so you want to do whatever you can to delay dehydration. Your performance begins to decline with just a 2 to 3 percent loss of body weight from fluid loss. As you lose water, your cooling mechanism also starts to fail, increasing your body temperature. If you want to run a better marathon, you must stay properly hydrated. Running slows the absorption of fluid from your stomach, so begin drinking early so the fluid is available later. Drink fluids with sodium because sodium helps you retain water. As a general rule, try to consume 5 to 6 ounces every two miles. If it’s hot or you tend to sweat heavily, drink more.

7. Don’t Do Anything New in the Race

One of the biggest mistakes you can make on race day is to wear brand new shoes. Even if your new shoes are the same type of shoes you’ve been wearing, don’t wear them in the race. Although running shoes are your most important item, don’t wear anything new in the marathon and don’t eat anything different the morning of the race.

Practice wearing your clothes and gear well before the race on your long runs and practice different pre-race meals so you get comfortable with everything.

8. Eat Breakfast Before the Race

Unlike shorter races, the marathon challenges your fuel reserves. When you wake up on race morning, your blood glucose is low because it’s been about 9 to 12 hours since you’ve eaten. Because carbohydrate is your muscles’ primary fuel when you run, you want to go to the starting line as full of carbohydrate as possible. One to two hours before the race, eat 300 to 400 calories of easily digestible carbohydrate and protein such as a nutrition bar, eggs, and toast with jelly. Avoid fiber and fat.

9. Divide and Conquer

Thinking of running 26.2 miles all at once can be overwhelming, so divide the race into smaller, more manageable segments, like each mile or each 5K, and focus on one segment at a time. If you’re familiar with the marathon course, you can divide the race into sections based on landmarks, neighborhoods, or areas of the course. Don’t let your head get ahead of you. You can’t do anything about mile 24 of a marathon when you’re running mile 3. Focus on getting to a certain checkpoint and don’t think beyond that checkpoint until you’ve reached it.

10. Be Positive and Confident

One of the keys to running a marathon successfully, no matter what level of runner you are, is to focus on the task at hand and execute your race plan. It’s often easy to let outside or self-imposed pressures become distractions, or to let your mind wander during a race.

However, you should not allow those things to become distractions, nor allow your mind to wander. Instead, focus on your performance to the exclusion of everything else.

This enables you to perform at your highest level. Remain positive when things don’t go as planned before or during your race. This keeps you calm and helps you run a good race. At the starting line and when you’re in the middle of the race, remove all the negative thoughts and replace them with positive ones.

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Winter 2012-13

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Duke City Fit

The

Fletcher It’s winter hiking.

We’ve turned off North Tramway onto FR333. Two miles up, we’re passing the La Luz sign, taking FR333D to the Piedra Lisa parking lot. A dozen or so of us, members of the New Mexico Mountain Club do the boot lace, the fanny pack check for food, remembering where car keys get stashed. Zippers zip to capture body heat, scarves wrap necks, water gets sipped out of camel packs or canteen bottles, because winter is tricky - it hides thirst, and many become dehydrated, fooled by the cold into thinking they don’t need water - not. Winter hiking requires more.

This writer is grateful for the two buck, cheap-o, black Walgreens hat pulled over ears, barely above eyebrows, while clumsy black gloves warm tingling fingertips, one now wrapped around the old hiking stick. The broad road reaches north; the mountain ahead wears a floating white scarf. As feet get the trail rhythm, sticks tap. I’m remembering another day walking in the mist...

It was the moor, in the West of Ireland, outside a little village called Cong, that straddled Counties Mayo and Galway. I see our slick brown boots on top of the emerald green-upon-green carpet; icy springs gush out of the rocks, appear, then disappear as the mists take us, wrap us, muffle us.

“Hello Earth People,” I quip, grabbing for Robert’s hand.

I’m directionless, sightless, half-way believing this fabled and utterly beautiful country does have beclouded leprechauns that play with humans like a cat would a yarn ball. The mist scarves move apart, and we’re released in front of a brooding purple mountain.

To my shock, there before me also appears a smiling Mister Himself, dressed in wool cape, Irish beak cap, holding the lead of a beautiful, spotted English setter with a tail like a shawl fringe.

“Good day ta ye,” he says cheerfully. “Tis the soft Irish rain and the mists that flummox ye, is it?”

Later, soaked and seated at the Hungry Monk Pub, grateful for a pint, conversation in that musical brogue does the ho-hum “you’ve-got-to-be-kidding,” when a New Mexican coos over mist, green and soft Irish rain.

Horrible hair is not even an issue.

“Lovin rain and mists they do! ” hoots a patron, casting her imploring eyes upward ... “God! Can’t ya give us enough blue ta stitch a sailor’s pants? So, what kind of people are ye anyway?” she adds after the supplication drill.

When they find out we’re Americans, therein began the longest string of bawdy Bill Clinton Jokes ever heard. We stay until closing. The mists had departed, and there above us was a starry, starry Irish night.

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Trail

Isabel Bearman-Bucher

Back in the Albuquerque present, the Mountain Club group starts trekking towards the Fletcher Trail. Stranger eyes meet, smiles are coaxed, and then, we skip Waterfall Canyon, going onto the Fletcher Trail, finding it by its obscure brown sign, elevated up a rise, nearly hidden by a big spruce. Dave Smith, hike leader, gathers us for the directives.

“This trail is closed from March 1 to August 15th,” he says, “to protect wildlife. Nesting Peregrine Falcons.”

The Fletcher Trail will stretch north, starting in an arroyo, going into the Juan Tabo Canyon, 1,800 feet up... an uphuffer all the way.

“Why is it named Fletcher?” asks somebody.

“Royce Fletcher,” adds another. “Been hiking for almost 60 years. He cut it himself.”

When Royce began his love affair of putting one foot in front of the other, the Kansas born, Colorado raised UNM Physics grad joined a loose-knit group known as the NM Mountain Club, not yet an organization, and began backpacking trips into the Grand Canyon. He spent 400 nights there, learning the skills of using ropes and technical climbing.

“If you’re carrying a 60 pound pack,” he told this writer, chuckling, “you better know how to use ropes.”

On his free days back in Albuquerque, most often solo, he explored the northern most foothills, accompanied by his West Highland Cross dog, Buffy, whose short legs were never a problem on any trek. Off-trail exploring, he discovered old sheepherder trails and permanent water from springs. Now fortified with a small cross-cut saw, pruners and a shovel, he pushed ever-farther north on the overgrown

remnants of a trail, then into an arroyo, always keeping his eye on his objectives: The Ramp and Face of the Shield. Little by little, three years later, he was able to navigate and explore the massive rock, recalling a time, if he hadn’t tied himself down, he would have catapulted, head first off that shield. For three more years, he maintained the trail, explored, scaled, climbed and got to know this utterly wild part of our mountain.

For those readers who don’t do mountains, consider this address: TPPS. Move your eye right, from the northern most part of the Sandias and find the points that stick up. Then, mas o menos, from right to left identify: thumb; pyramid, prow, shield. These landmarks become hidden or illuminated at different times of the day, sunset being the best view. The shield, Royce’s fifty-year fixation, is climbable, but challenging, and looks just like a massive, steepfaced, potbelly rock.

Soon, hikers were using the Fletcher, and that helped maintain what is now a popular trail.

Back on this day’s ever- up hike, lungs try to warm winter breaths, laboring the steep, snowcovered path. People start small conversations, find connections. Noses get blown, short laughs punctuate the mists, happy for the trail and the collective “one-foot-in-front-of-the-other” passion. The Prow is a moving, active vista to our right - a gorgeous now-you-see-me, now-you-don’t view. The world is filmy white, evergreen or gray - today’s stage for the dancing colors of red, yellow and hurrah blue of human clothing.

Two hours in, we eat lunch seated on a shelf, while enchantment vistas take everybody away.

Descending hikers tell of a cave and dripping spring above, and a pretty precarious assent to the Sandia summit.

On a lovely cool day, as they walked his trail together, Royce told this writer about the dripping spring and cave.

“It’s fun to explore, “ he said. “But you’ve got to use ropes to get to it. It’s got two entrances that are connected in the back.

He went on to tell the story of a guy who’d fallen off the ascent - and had to be carried out on a stretcher.

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“His knee was never the same again,” he related, using his hands to describe the permanent condition of the swollen knee.

Assents to the Sandia summit need ropes too, and in winter, this is a very dangerous choice indeed, certainly not recommended.

Back in the winter mists, the august New Mexico Mountain Club members slip on hidden ice and some go loop-deloo back down and around the Fletcher Trail. Howls of laughter puncture the air, as members raise, brush off, and begin again - some now grabbing pine branches, or kicking new snow away to expose what lurks below.

This writer remembers sage words, while she goes bum-over-tin-cup (from “Five Point Decent Mantra” by Royce Fletcher): Both hands, both feet, And on your seat.

She amends it to: Both hands, both feet And swooping on your seat Down the ice sheet.

“What kind of a deal is this,” she whispers, brushing herself off, “for a senior citizen?”

At the cars, we say our goodbye’s, change emails, and hopes we’ll walk again together. Royce is happy that so many use his trail.

Winter 2012-13

If You Are Going on The Fletcher Trail this WInter WINTER DO’S: • Tote more water and drink it • Lubricate noses inside and out, and lips, • Wrap lower face with scarves to warm air • Only very tough kids for this one.

GETTING THERE: • Tramway Blvd. past the Tram • Turn right, 1 mile north, on FR 333 • Pass the La Luz Trailhead sign Two miles to FR333D • On dirt, turn right to the Piedra Lisa Parking lot.

• Park & Walk a quarter mile on 135 • Begin to look for an obscure wood sign sitting up a rise to the right that points to “Fletcher Trail.”

• Find the arroyo, and proceed up that for a while. It eventually gets to higher ground.

• Piedra Lisa is to your north.

• Waterfall Canyon and the Movie trail are to its right • Best to have a map and a compass FOR MORE INFO: www.sandiahiking.com

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Duke City Fit

Calendar of Events

December January February

2012-2013

Events in red must be pre-registered Ongoing Yoga With a View, $15 ($5 first time), 9-10:30am every Sunday morning and, 9:30-11am every Wednesday, at Open Space Visitor Center 6500 Coors NW, Yoga in a beautiful setting Info: 8978831 Qigong in the Park, Saturdays & Sundays 9-10am: every Saturday at Altura Park located at Hannett and Morningside NE, Every Sunday at Robinson Park at 8th & Central, Qigong practice for all, Loretta 681-1924 qigonginthepark.com Church of Beethoven, Adults $15/ Students $10/Kids $5, Sundays at 10:30am sharp, not church & more than Beethoven, chamber music & poetry, arrive early for free espresso bar, 1715 5th St NW 505-234-4611 www.churchofbeethoven.org Rio Grande Nature Center Bird Walks, Free, 9am, Saturdays & Sundays, join a naturalist for a quiet bird walk, preregister, 344-7240 Rio Grande Nature Center Nature Walks, Free, 1pm Sundays, an insightful nature tour of the bosque, preregister, 344-7240 High Desert Bicycles Group Ride, Free, 9-10:30am every Saturday, 909 36th Place SE in Rio Rancho, bring bike (or rent one) & join the group, 896-4700 NM Volunteers for the Outdoors, Save a trail in the NM outdoors, learn new skills with cool tools and “rub shoulders� with forest rangers. Enjoy the camaraderie of new friends and be part of preserving outdoor recreation by helping to build and maintain a wide variety of trails. 8841991 www.nmvfo.org

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New Mexico Touring Society Bike Rides, Los Altos Skate Park, Free, City of Albuquerque , 8am-11pm, 10140 Lomas join together with other recreational bikers of all ages for daily planned rides, NE, Largest skate park in the southwest 237-9700 nmts.org Tower Skate Park, Free, City of Albuquerque , 7am-11pm, 86th & Tower Water Exercise Classes, Weekdays, on west side, brand new state of the art $2.50, City of ABQ Indoor Pools at skate park Valley Pool 761-4086; West Mesa Aquatic Center 836-8718, Morn & Botanical Gardens River of Lights, evening classes A Holiday Light Festival since 1997, Los Poblanos Fields Community Farm, $8 adults & $4 kids, 6-9pm, walk-thru dazzling light display, 2601 Central NW, Free, City of Albuquerque, 6804 4th St runs through Dec 30, 768-2000 NW, 345-4580

Calvary Skate Park, Free, 9am-10pm, 4001 Osuna NE, Parent must sign waiver, bladers & skateboarders only, adjacent game room, 344-0880 x201, ww.calvarysk8park.org

December 8 Run Rudolph Run, 5K run/walk to benefit Joy Junction, $10 and $10 toy, 9am, Hoffmantown Church parking lot (Harper and Ventura) Kenneth Ortiz 505314-0417 Jingle Bell Run/Walk, 5K run/walk to benefit arthritis foundation, 10am, tie bells to your shoelaces, at Mariposa Basin Park, contact Angela 353-2923 December 15 & 22 City of ABQ Learn to Ski & Snowboard, youths age 11-17 discounted packages including lifts, lessons, & transportation to Sipapu contact 768-5328 www.nmxsports.org December 16 Wolf Meet and Greet, Wangai wolf fund, Free, 12:30pm, up close and personal with these beautiful animals, Open Space Visitor Center, 6500 Coors NW, info: 897-8831 Farolito Trail of Lights, 5K run/walk, 5pm, 9th annual holiday favorite, at SW Indian Polytechnic Institute, www.irunfit. org December 21 Winter Solstice, shortest day of the year, the sun is directly over the tropic of Capricorn in the southern hemishpere, days will be getting longer from here on out

www.dukecityfit.com

Duke City Fit January 26 Open Space Volunteer Orientation, Free, 10am-12:30pm, Trail Watch and AdoptAn-Open-Space training, Open Space Visitor Center, 6500 Coors NW, pre-register 897-8865

Open Bowling All the Time At Sandia Bowl, we’re all about having fun with your family and friends. Come on in and bowl a few games with a burger and a beverage... our snack bar is top notch.

January 27 Twilight Hike on a Full Moon Night, Free ($3 Parking), Dusk, tentative date Call for time & date, Rio Grande Nature Center 2901 Candelaria NW, 344-7240

And our full-service lounge, well, it’s the neighborhood place to be! Join us for the game on our big screen TV, or just hang out while the kids bowl.

Finally, don’t forget, it’s bowl til you drop on Tuesday afternoons for just 5 bucks!

Family, Friends, Good Times at

Sandia Bowl 293-5675

11342 Lexington NE Albuquerque, NM 87112

www.sandiabowl.biz December 22 WInter Solstice Mandala Creation, Free, 10am, Participate in creating 20’ cosmic diagram that reminds us of our relation to the infinite, Open Space Visitor Center, 6500 Coors NW, pre-register 897-8831 December 28 Twilight Hike on a Full Moon Night, Free ($3 Parking), Dusk, tentative date Call for time & date, Rio Grande Nature Center 2901 Candelaria NW, 344-7240

January 1 Egg Nog Jog 2013,12 noon, $25 includes t-shirt ($15 no shirt) , 4 mi run & 2 mi walk, noncompetitive annual Albuquerque iconic event, Grecian just west of 4th Street, contact Alan Overmier 321--2171 January 2 Albuquerque Museum of Art & History, Free Day, 9am-5pm, 2000 Mountain Road NW, A free day at the museum! Do a lot of walking. 243-7255 www.cabq. gov/museum January 4 Albuquerque Critical Mass Fun Bike Ride, Free, 7pm, meet at UNM duck pond Facebook: CriicalMassAlbuquerque

Winter 2012-13

January 7 Wilde Bunch LGBT Square Dance Club, 7-9pm, starting up a new session of square dance classes, ABQ Square Dance Center 4909 Hawkins NE, info: 410-6299 www.wildebunch.org January 10 Adventure Racing 101, Free 7-8pm, REI Clinic Room 1550 Mercantile Ave NE, NM Adventure Racing Club presents info on what it is, skills, equipment, 2471191

February 3 Superbowl “Touchdown for the Homeless” 10K/5K Run, 11am, celebrate the big day & back in time for the game, go to active.com & key in “Superbowl Touchdown” www.irunfit.com February 6 Albuquerque Museum of Art & History, Free Day, 9am-5pm, 2000 Mountain Road NW, A free day at the museum!

Do a lot of walking. 243-7255 www. cabq.gov/museum February 9 & 16 City of ABQ Learn to Ski & Snowboard, youths age 11-17 discounted packages including lifts, lessons, & transportation

Rio Grande Nature Center Volunteer Orientation, 10-11:30am, new volunteers must take this course then continue with training on Sturdays 344-7240 December 15 & 22 City of ABQ Learn to Ski & Snowboard, youths age 11-17 discounted packages including lifts, lessons, & transportation to Sipapu contact 768-5328 www.nmxsports.org

February 10 Sweetheart Run 2013 10K/5K, 9am, a loving run along the Rio Grande, go to active.com & key in “Sweetheart Run” 299-3521 February 16 30th Annual Mt Taylor Quadrathlon, Grants, NM, See ad pg 15, New Mexico’s premier winter sports event, www.mttaylorquad.org February 25 Twilight Hike on a Full Moon Night, Free ($3 Parking), Dusk, tentative date Call for time & date, Rio Grande Nature Center 2901 Candelaria NW, 344-7240 March 6 Albuquerque Museum of Art & History, Free Day, 9am-5pm, 2000 Mountain Road NW, A free day at the museum! Do a lot of walking. 243-7255 www.cabq. gov/museum March 17 Shamrock Shuffle, 10K/5K, 8:30am, Rio Rancho aquatic Center, go to active.com & key in “Shamrock Shuffle” 299-3521 www.irunfit.com April 7 Foothills Trails Cleanup, Free 9am-1pm, every Saturday in April at a different trailhead, contact Jolynn 452-5207

Climb Like A Girl !

*February * * ICE * * * 9 10, 2013 &

January 12 Winter Bird & Bat Festival, Free ($3 Parking), 10am-4pm, Rio Grande Nature Center 2901 Candelaria NW, Shows/ crafts/walks/animals, 344-7240 January 19 11th Annual Sandia Mountain Snowshoe Race, 10am, $30, iconic event, 3.2 mile traverse from the Crest thru Cibola National Forest, Register: www.sandiasnowshoe.com

to Sipapu contact 768-5328 www.nmxsports.org

Ouray, Colorado

You say you don’t climb in the winter Because it’s too cold.

Experience Ice Climbing in Ouray And you’ll change your mind.

Email or Call me for details

Carolyn Parker carolyn@athenafit.com 505-400-5590 Now: SURF LIKE A GIRL with Carolyn Parker Costa Rica Jan 27-Feb 2 , La Jolla May 18-19 Email: carolyn@athenafit.com

27

Duke City Fit

Uncle KC’s Corner

Magic Powder, My Thumb!

He was working with a Swiss Army pocket knife, brand new and razor sharp. He was attempting to scrape a sticker off of some glass, which in retrospect, may not have been the best of ideas.

When the blade slipped and sliced his thumb, he simply stopped and looked at them... the thumb, the knife... as if they belonged to someone else. As if, somehow, they had betrayed him.

“Darnit... what a dummy,” he said to himself.

He stood there then, on a downtown, sunny city street, half in and half out of reality, and watched as the blood slowly formed in what seemed to be an incredibly straight line across the offending digit. It welled up in brilliant technicolor red under the noon day sun.

Scarlet, he supposed, staring at it... this was really what the color “scarlet” was.

When it finally broke out of the line and started running down to his wrist, it was as if it was in slow motion, running down, like a trickle of water in the gutter.

When it finally dripped off his wrist and onto the hot, white pavement, it dawned upon his stagnated mental processes that this was, in fact, his very own thumb and his very own blood.

Pain.

Wake up. Spring into action. The first thing he did was press the forefinger from the same hand as the injured thumb (fortunately, it was his left hand) up against the thumb to momentarily stop the flow of blood.

Now what?

He had his car there, but there were no bandages or first aid kit.

Heck, there weren’t even any napkins or tissues as he scrounged around the car to see what he did have.

Then his eyes lit upon the powder. The Magic powder. Or, so he had been told it was. He’d been skeptical at the time, when they’d related its magical qualities to him, but not so skeptical that he hadn’t taken some of it.

And there it was, in a jar, on the passenger seat where he had haphazardly tossed it.

Among many other properties that the powder supposedly had, it was alleged to be anti-bacterial. And he distinctly remembered a comment about its ability to staunch the flow of blood.

Doing as he vaguely recalled being told, he made the powder into a paste, mostly using his own blood, but also using a little saliva, for that was all he had. He plastered the paste onto the wound. He wrapped the whole thing tightly with a strip of brown paper torn from a small paper bag, and cinched it up tight with some scotch tape.

Fully expecting the paper to be saturated with blood and dripping within moments, he jumped into the car and headed for home.

Strangely though, the blood didn’t materialize. And the thumb didn’t hurt.

Ah well, taking advantage of his reprieve, he ended up finishing a few of the errands he’d been running and finally rolled back into his house a few hours later.

When he pulled off the makeshift bandage, he was surprised by both the lack of pain and the lack of blood that he found. Washing it all off, he was again taken aback when the wound didn’t reopen under the cold water as he had anticipated it would. As history said that it would.

It stayed closed too, and it looked incredibly benign... more like a mere paper cut, although he knew better than that.

Perhaps, he thought, as he gazed at the puzzling evidence before his eyes, perhaps that powder IS magical.

Earlier, much earlier... I met up with Karl Thomas, our designated Duke City Fit health guru, for our regular quarterly discussion of homeopathy and herbal remedies. As is my wont, I asked him what bizarre topic he’d come up with to discuss this time.

Clay.

Clay?

Clay!

“Oh God,” I thought, “Here we go again.” Last time it was bad

28

breath. This must be some kind of punishment... the universe is getting back at me because I never finished that “colonic cleanse” thing.

Clay?

Yeah, but hear me out before you go getting all bent out of shape.

You know, clay has a very long history of being used medicinally.

It was found in jars buried with the Aztec mucky-mucks to aid them in the afterlife. It was carried by soldiers in the civil war. And it was most likely used by your grandmother and probably your mother...

Remember “kaopectate”? That thick stuff you took when you had diarrhea. Well guess what was in that?

Clay.

And if you go to a big, fancy spa and get a big, fancy facial, what do you suppose they’re going to plaster all over your big ugly mug?

Clay.

Look, clay has so many beneficial uses that it is hard to list them all... both internally and externally. Believe it or not, clay, which comes these days in a powder, may be as close to being a magic powder as we’re likely to find. But it is not magic, really. What it can do and why it does it is based on cold, hard science.

For a background, let’s remember back to all the things we’ve talked about over the years. Many of our body’s woes have their origins, or are at least related to, an environment that is too acidic.

(Including our breath, I thought.)

Such environments are great breeding grounds for bacteria. Bad bacteria. And therein lies the problem.

At the other end of the acidic spectrum is the acid antithesis... the alkaline. And that, my dear editor friend, is what clay is all about. It is alkaline. It is HIGHLY alkaline. It is packed with minerals. The clays we use today are mined from ancient dried up sea beds, where the minerals were deposited for centuries uncounted. They have more minerals than you can shake a stick at. The alkaline properties and the minerals can be useful both inside your body and out, for a myriad of purposes.

Let’s start with the external uses.

The clay we’re talking about comes as a powder and is pretty darn cheap. Being a powder makes it ideal to take with you wherever you go. It doesn’t age, evaporate, or go stale. It isn’t effected by heat or cold. It is not a liquid, so you don’t have to worry about carrying it onto a plane. Toss some in a baggy and take it with you wherever... camping, hiking, traveling. Toss some in the glove box.

To use it externally, you simply have to mix it with a little water to make a paste. For some applications, mixing it with some organic apple cider vinegar is advantageous. Sometimes, in a pinch, saliva will do.

First off, the facials that we mentioned are legend for the restorative powers they have for your skin. It’s the minerals that your skin absorbs. This can be particularly effective for people afflicted withy acne.

Similarly, it can be used for rashes and eczema. Treating a rash with steroid cream, as is commonly done now, simply sublimates the rash, pushing it under to spring up elsewhere. Using a clay paste pulls it out, feeds it minerals, and sterilizes it. Let it dry and wash it off.

For eczema, there’s nothing like it. Apply the paste, wrap it up, and leave it on overnight. There will be noticeable improvement within 48 hours and it’ll probably be totally gone within 7 to 14 days.

For insect bites and stings, it is the bomb. It relieves the itch and draws out the poison. In this regard, using saliva may actually be a plus, as insect poisons are basically made of proteins, and the saliva contains enzymes. Enzymes break down proteins. Voila.

Keep in mind, too, that clay, being highly alkaline, is also highly anti-bacterial in all of these external uses.

This is of particular value not only in dealing with bites and stings, but also with cuts, scrapes, and burns. Additionally, it can

help coagulate the blood and slow down bleeding.

Basically, if it has to do with your skin, clay can help.

As for taking clay internally, it is not as strange (or as strange tasting) as it sounds. It actually doesn’t taste bad... kinda salty. It can be dissolved in a cup of juice, although it won’t stay in solution long before it drops to the bottom, so you’ll want to chug it down post haste.

Alternatively, some people mix it with water and roll it into little balls, then pop the balls like capsules.

The major uses for taking clay internally have to do with digestive and intestinal malfunctions.

A major, and perhaps the major reason for carrying some with you when you travel, is for food poisoning. It can be effective, especially, even after acute symptoms have • begun to appear. Two or three teaspoons in water or juice, if you can get it down, can do wonders.

Similarly, food infections, like dysentery (Montezuma’s revenge) from bad fruit or water can be taken care of with clay. This is of particular value to people who travel overseas or to Mexico.

(Karl tells of some friends of his who traveled to do missionary work in Guatemala. The wife came down with severe dysentery.

She had it for weeks and couldn’t shake it, no matter the medicines she took. She lost weight and was unable to function. Karl and his wife went to visit them as a sort of spontaneous vacation/missionof-mercy. They took along some clay powder. To make a long story short, within two days the dysentery had subsided and within a week she was back up and working in the mission.)

Clay is also useful for heartburn and acid reflux. Additionally, believe it or not, it can even relieve constipation. Likewise, it can sooth irritable bowel syndrome. It is, in practice, the “great bowel balancer”. (Is that slogan taken?)

So there you have it. A sampling of the many and varied uses of the lowly powder dredged up from the bottom of an ancient sea.

Its portability and ease of use makes it unbeatable as a “carry it with you” multi-purpose health aid. Hikers, athletes, travelers... all should have some with them. It is so inexpensive and so universally effective, that it should be a staple.

With that, we parted ways, Karl and I. I skeptically took a jar of the powder with me as I left, tossing it on the passenger seat next to me, knowing that I would have “some ‘splaining” to do when my wife finally saw it.

On the way home, I decided to check out some of the Duke City Fit newspaper racks along the way to see how the supplies were doing. One of them, downtown, I noticed to my chagrin, had a sticker of some kind stuck on the glass door. I stopped alongside and assessed the vandalized rack. I pulled out my brand new Swiss Army knife and started in on the sticker removal process...

This story originally appeared in the Spring Issue of 2009. Since then my use of the Clay Powder has continued to grow and expand. It has stopped food poisoning in its tracks several times over the years. I have used it numerous times on cuts... it sterilizes, helps the blood clot, and seems to speed the healing without scars. And foremost, it is invaluable when I get bedtime indigestion or acid reflux. I carry it with me in ALL my travels. I would not be without it.

I have found that Redmond Clay Powder is the best for these purposes. Locally, ABQ Health Pantry sometimes has it in stock.

I order mine online, several jars at a time, from: www.vitacost.com Redmond Trading Company Clay 10oz jar $6.89

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Duke City Fit

Winter 2012-13

29

Duke City Fit

Oh, Those

Guadalupes Ken Orth

Down the road a bit from Carlsbad, the Guadalupe Mountains still called to me. Driving that long, lonely highway south from the Caverns gave me ample opportunity to consider their place… here in the southwest, and in my life.

The Guadalupes are not easy to get to. You do not generally stumble upon them by accident, although that is exactly what I did when I first discovered them many decades ago. They were but a little black symbol on the map of Texas. A tiny tent icon that meant a campground of some kind. There were no internet thingys with which to learn more, and there wasn’t a visitor center anywhere in sight. There weren’t even any cars around. There was the long lonely road with an unknown campground at its end.

That it turned out to be a National Park was immensely gratifying. That it was apparently completely deserted was less so.

When I pulled into the park, with those sinister mountains looking down upon me as dusk settled in, I was totally alone. My beat-up old tent, an orange K-Mart special, seemed particularly ludicrous to me as I set it up in the growing darkness… as if it would protect me from anything at all that these mountains might want to throw at me. I laid awake that night in my sleeping bag, eyes wide open, intensely aware of every little sound, real and imagined, in this bizarre mountainous desert world about which I knew so very little.

When it happened, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Somewhere nearby… VERY nearby… in the blackness of night with just a sliver of a moon casting ghostly shadows on my tent walls, there was a sudden, loud, screaming snarl. It was the unmistakable scream of a mountain lion. I knew what it was immediately and it scared the shit out of me. I looked at those thin little orange nylon walls, and I thought my time had arrived.

I waited there in the darkness, frozen, for whatever was to come next.

Nothing came. Nothing happened. I never heard another sound from that mountain lion. Or any other mountain lion, for that matter. Ever. It was my one and only encounter with the biggest of the big cats. It forged an attachment for me unlike anything I have for anyplace else, anywhere. In a very real sense, the Guadalupe Mountains spoke to me that night. They struck fear and glory, side by side, in my heart and in my being.

So, it was good to find out on this latter day trip nearly forty years after my first encounter with them, that the Guadalupes still inspire me. The grounds have changed.

They’ve paved the roads and moved the campground and put up a visitor center. There are people now, probably all the time. There are Rangers and self-pay kiosks and signs that warn of mountain lions.

But the mountains themselves, ah the mountains. They remain the wildly prehistoric place that I discovered back then. They still fill me with awe and wonder. There are a number of hiking trails that wander through the canyons, and aside from the one up to Guadalupe Peak, they are all relatively deserted. That peak is the highest point in the state of Texas and as such, draws an inordinate number of the hikers. Good. I encounter no one on the Devil’s Hall trail, and I take a LONG time hiking its 2 mile length to the rocky slot canyon that is its namesake.

I think it is the unusual, jagged rocky formations that draw much of my attention… I almost have to go climb up that thing over there, or at least touch it… kind of a Vulcan mind meld thing. But the plant life is also noticeable, diverse and abundant and unusual. And hardy. I notice a gigantic prickly pear plant dangling way above me, attached to the steep sides of the canyon wall. Had I not seen it, I would have thought that it could not survive, much less thrive, in such a place.

But what do I know?

There is another side to the the Guadalupe Mountains up on the northern end, closer to the caverns, but it is harder to get to and even more out of the way than the main entrance to the south. Along the long and winding road that dead ends in the park, a side trip to Sitting Bull Falls is mandatory. It is a strikingly beautiful oasis in the smack dab middle of a rock strewn desert wasteland, and until you are almost upon it, it is hard to believe that it is actually there. It and the north end of the park are well worth the extra time, driving, and effort to get there. And they are all considerable. If solitude is part of your goal, though, as it often is mine, then I find it hard to imagine that there is a National Park anywhere that better fits the bill.

In retrospect, I came away from this trip feeling ever so grateful that I got the chance to visit again with the old codgers down there. The Caverns and the Guadalupes, they stand alone. And like any visit with old friends, I came away thinking that my time there was too short. My priorities, a little askew. But then, I recall that they’re not going anywhere just yet. They’ve got a few thousand, or a few hundred thousand years left in ‘em. They’ll be there, old and feisty, when I once again find the time to make the journey down there. I look forward to it already, whenever it may be.

Going?

Carlsbad Caverns National Park is located 28 miles south of Carlsbad on Highway 180//62. The main entrance to Guadalupe Mountains National Park is 35 miles further south along 180/62 in Texas. The North entrance to The Guadalupes is 55 miles south on Highway 137 off of Highway 285 about 13 miles north of Carlsbad. Sitting Bull Falls is also along 137. Note that the last mile of road to the falls is open only on weekends, other times you’ll have to hike the trail. The roads are isolated down here, so fill up the tank before heading out anywhere The gas is cheapest in Roswell.

Guadalupes: (575) 828-3251

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Caverns: (575) 785-2232

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Duke City Fit

Winter 2012-13

31

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pon

$ 5 00 O f f B o nz G

et a Pair of B onz Insoles for $5 off the regular p rice. Normally $ 26, now just $21 with this coupon.

Expires 2/28 /13

New Mexico’s #1 Running Company