Carnival knowledge; otherwise known as jet lag delight

There's something about jet lag that I covet; there is bliss in an absurd time schedule. Because Hawaii is 12 time zones and up to 13 hours time difference away from Turkey, my body goes through a lot of change when I travel back and forth between homes. As with my body, so does my mind.

Wherever my body exists, as opposed to wherever my mind thinks I am, I enjoy the nights. It's like a transformation into something different. By something different, I mean I see the night different- even if I often enough stay up until 2 am.

Something comes alive.  It's dreamy. Take today for instance; I went to work at 8 am, and returned home at 9 am... Yes, that is another story; I failed to read the email on the previous day (because I, again, left early- due to jet lag of course) stating that if we didn't have anything to do we didn't have to show up... So... I show up - it takes an hour before I even read that email- and start to organize. BAM and I'm so fast outta there on a slow dolmus back to Büyükdere, my village away from my village. I'm re-familiarizing all the sights, smells and sounds of Istanbul. I do love this about returning- anywhere that holds a place in my heart actually. Now that I have my sea legs back, I venture forth to 'our çay bache' (tea garden) for the requisite Turkish-style bitter tea served in dainty tulip-shaped thin glass with 2 cubes of sugar. Note that I only use 1/2 of 1 sugar cube... and only because it is necessary...

EdVice eventually shows up and we wax poetic about our recent travels. The day is a beauty; mid 80s with a light wind to kiss away the sweet, sweat dewdrops amassing as soldiers on the battlefield of ones upper lip. I proudly display my new belt ("gay leather belt") as EdVice so faux-flippantly describes it. We end up concurring that it is, in fact, utilitarian, if not a bit retro. I'd like to think a more modern adaptation for its meaning; Burning Man residue that is city-slicker friendly vibe.

We cover all topics of immediate interest; more importantly I declare a decree- demanding that 'we' (Brownie Walkers of Shame) venture off at the weekend to check out the newest Bosporus Bridge that finally opened to traffic this summer in our neck of the woods. Kitty Kat talk obviously surfaces. Our çay bache is in fact the nesting ground of their newest edition, Betty Poop (the suffix is my invention alone- as a term of endearment stemming from her wonder years and certain difficulties she experiences in her transition becoming a kept kitty kat.

Our walkabout consisted of cruising to a few markets... another byproduct of jet lag is that it becomes a free ticket to shun from exercising that carries, to a certain degree, a meaningful amount of validity. Whatever.  I'll take it. EdVice, just returning from Canada was outfitted in autumnal fashion ultimately complimented with a felt Fedora. We are obviously both excited for the arrival of fall weather and all the good cheer that rides alongside that wave. Not that you would gather that from my summer outfit.

Yes, back to that summer outfit and the ultimate accessory I was sporting, affectionately now known as my 'gay leather belt'. It is indeed special- mostly because every time I wear it I will think about MisSimone, who gave it to me! I can honestly say that it is a perfect city accessory if one doesn't like to carry a purse, etc. There are enough pockets in it to carry keys, money, chapstick/lipstick and cell phone without looking overloaded. I'm totes digging on it.  I will rock the shit outta that piece. It's cute with an edge to boot.

Back home doing my thing, I eventually fall into deep slumber- for perhaps up to 3.5 hours... Not good.  Here I am at 10:45pm totally buzzing, which is nothing unusual in itself, but will continue on into the wee hours of early morning I already know. This is it though; this is the addiction to jet lag. I guarantee you all that these frivolous hours will turn to gold. Whatever that means to me, I realize I cannot possibly describe to you all... but I think many will get :) 

I've already updated my Spotify with new music after stalking FB friends' lists, etc. I've worn out the kitties with their new toys. I've brushed their fur to the point of shine so bright that their coats reflect light- sparkaliscious! I've unpacked all my delightful potions. I'm digging on my daybed set-up that perhaps Settar, Mizgin or Zeyneb set up- each had a stint in kitty-kat sitting during my travels. I'm indulging in succulent, juicy nectarines that are at every green grocers right now- fashionably in season.  Right now I'm multi-tasking, thinking how to stream Hemlock Grove season 2 since Netflix Turkey sucks and it's not showing up as an option...

The list is endless. Jet lag nights helps me to check off things on this endless list I find.  One year, upon return to Maui, I watched the entire 1st season of Game of Thrones in 3 days of dazed stupor. Speaking of dazed stupor, thanks for the use of your couch for that Katie-girl!

Speaking of Katie-girl, we have this thing for podcasts.  Perhaps this is a thing for all archaeologists though, to get through all those mind-boggling hours spent monitoring bulldozers while standing in the hot sun, or the pouring rain, or relentless winds blowing sand in your face... Anyway, I have 2 new fab podcasts to soak up, one of which I already knew about but was holding off on.  So, Serial season 2 is revving up- such as season 1 did with Adnon and the murder mystery.  Season 2 deals with an American soldier stationed in Afghanistan who goes AWOL one day as he tires of the war machine. In short, he gets kidnapped by Al Qaeda, blah blah blah. I'm sure most of you heard the news story when it went down about 2 years ago?

The 2nd podcast is just golden. Katie-girl is right; it is OUR podcast. You see, we were semi-serious years back in wanting to do an archaeology podcast, "As the Trowel Turns", coined by us and countless others no doubt... I even made up a twitter account and posted snippets and pictures. We coveted this idea, yet had no time to deal with it. My Favorite Murder has everything we envisioned in ours; dialogue, intrigue and fun, except this one is about murder. The 2 chicks have a great chemistry with enough content, comedy and drama all in a laid-back style of letting it come out as it will. Their storytelling style is just easy to follow. I mean, I'm not even that interested in murder!  It is really about their dynamics.

So, I think I'm over the computer at this point in the evening and will move on to something more organic. Speaking of organic - trees, paper- I'm reading The Master and Margarita right now. Just started it so getting to know the characters.  This is always fun when entering into a new book that you are getting into.

UPDATE: Sweet kitty Shaika Spot was lying next to my feet and it just wasn't close enough and she had to get up and lay ON my feet. *Collective "awwww" I can hear from afar right now* The kitties and I had a fab reunion- as always.  Shaika is just lovey dovey, and cagey, and curious. Sami Bey is more introspective, I guess.  He is analyzing, wondering. He plays the good cop bad cop all in one, starting off as indifferent bad cop. Then when he's had enough shunning me, he creeps up to rest next to me, giving in to my affections, if cautiously. I love seeing his transformation.  The kits; their personalities are so different. Like kids, I suppose. Yea, family. My beast family :)

It's feeling pretty good to be back in the 'bul indeed
Peace

A little dab'll do ya...

 Sami Bey and Shaika Spot, faithful companions and avid travelers... My Middle East Beasts turned-to Turkish Kediler :)

As of late, I've reached into my Tiger Balm stashes, among others. It seems that the combination of yoga, running and African dance is turning my body into one big network of nerves. It actually feels a bit like growing pains.  Maybe it's just because there are so many different muscle groups being activated at various different times that no one group can find the time to relax as they're either in the spot light or guiding the other group on in some helpful way.  I just don't remember this in my previous life where I did all this, and more... lol

Fast forward to today, Easter Sunday for Christians, 9:30 am and ACTION.  It seemed like a rude interruption from my brief slumber. Brief, yes. I ended up on the party bus at 1am back to Büyükdere coming from Taksim.  Uneventful enough, but it did take some time.  Eye-spied, I think, my mysterious next-door-neighbor hopping on the bus in shi-shi-la-la Bebek (ritzy hood here in Ist where the see-and-be-seen like to dwell about and... well, see-and-be-seen).  Just adding more information to the mystery that is him, if it was him.  He is a sport coach, I think, for a campus sports team at work that shall remain unnamed to protect the innocent (me)... Anyway, American guy, I've heard.  I only know of his voice- through the walls talking on Skype... I can only assume that he wears cement blocks for shoes because that is what I hear when he is just walking up the stairs in his apartment up to his loft; I hear concrete block earth-moving tremors... So does Da Jel, who lives downstairs from this American WMD... lol. One day I'm going to run into him and we'll end up shooting the shit. I'll introduce my self as , "the purple note gal"- yes he did get a purple note slipped underneath his door once many fortnights ago... 

Coming out of the metro station, a very sparsely populated Taksim Square yesterday evening, due to the suicide bombing last weekend here...

Onward. So the reason I was on the party bus at 1am was because 4-gra had a wee/wii extravaganza at Da Kine's residence. Admittedly, the 100-pin bowling was good fun. I have birthed the 'slow mo/slow bowl form, to rave reviews from the tribe.  Slow and steady wins the race, although I didn't win.

Da Jel in an action shot

Onward. early on in the evening we all commented how we had just received the latest US embassy notice (warning) about a possible ISIL threat to places of worship today- especially churches, synagogues and diplomatic missions... Have I mentioned that I live above an Orthodox church, in an old schoolhouse?  Beautiful stone building that it is, it will become my self-exiled prison of sorts today.

Yea, it's a good day to just lay low I suppose. After running. And yoga. And a Brownie Walkabout with The Büyükdere Club Kids, our intrepid trio consisting of Ed Vice, Steve-O and myself. On our last Brownie Walkabout we ventured into an old Armenian Church further down in the hood, before trotting on to Yeniköy to down a few Teddy Beers.  Good fun.

The Büyükdere Club Kids

INTERRUPTION:  Ahhh the first sip of freshly brewed french press coffee... 

Yet I digress yet again... we all decided that 'it' (the embassy email) must concern the sites of religious worship and missions on Istiklal Caddesi (Istiklal street) mainly, as that was the site of last weekend's suicide bombing here in the latest antics (from a lame group of thugs). At any rate, I won't be cutting through the church grounds today en route to my (running) route.  WOW, at this very moment the church bells are ringing, and all the neighborhood canines are yowling... I've always been so curious on what goes on with an orthodox mass... Today is not the day to check it out.

Back to running as it's on my mind a lot these days.  Recently I broke out my old Timex GPS Run Trainer- mostly to check out my heart rate activity during my run.  I'm not sure why it's taken so long to break it out, but I suspect it's because the numbers were always so depressing while living/running in Bahrain the past 2 years... It was so damn hot running there- no matter what time of day.  I mean, it was laboriously hot trying to run into a full-on furnace coming at you...

Besides that, I'm really concentrating on working on some specific things. Specifically, my gait, as well as mind/body movement control.  What I mean to say is that I am really concentrating on focusing on experimenting with 2 different leg styles while I run: firstly, I visualize my feet.  While one is striking the ground (mid-foot strike I am also working on- coming from a (not overly severe) heel-strike background)), the other leg is close to a 90º angle with my foot trying to hit my butt. VISUALIZING I say, so that the goal is really just to get that leg high, while still projecting forward.

Running-style-wise, my second task is to try to bring free leg as close forward and near knee-level of the leg on the ground- all within an aerodynamic forward motion, so not a 90º angle here but maybe 45º. With this movement, I'm thinking that the less time my one foot is on the ground, the easier it is to transform into a mid-foot striker.  I've come to realize that my heel-strike, even though it isn't pronounced, makes me take a longer time to recover and get that foot back off the ground, as well as gives more time for my body to sink into that foot on the ground or compress my spine.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it"; I know, I know.  But, I'm having fun with it.  What I know is that when I'm running, I'm feeling that high, and it's so good that I don't want it to stop. So, if I want to continue this running-high into the years, I need to be logical. Prevention is the key, and I've done a pretty good job so far.

Yesterday's excursion into the world of running in Istanbul brought me to a new route, I think. I've been wanting to start training on hill sprints.  But I need a hill. Going up the Haciosman Hill I notice, while on the bus, that there is a forested area in a neighborhood just off the highway.  Bingo.  I ran up to this spot and just started walking into this village neighborhood.  There are 3 successive, steep hills to traverse, and probably more as I started to see people movement at the top of the 3rd and didn't feel like trekking further into this unfamiliar neighborhood/village. Let the people get familiar with me I think is a good plan.  After all, it doesn't look like any yabancī get up into this hood... What I mean to say is seeing a yabanci, and a yabanci runner, in this hood looks like an unfamiliar thing.  Baby steps... Happy baby steps that I found this new practice session to throw into the mix!

The hill sprints should build some more muscle, which should, in theory, propel me faster!  At this point, my Bosphorus Runs need a little kick.  I've been running up to 10k at a time now (on a great day), but I feel a bit sluggish.  I feel that I don't need to run farther, but faster.  Simply just to change it up.  The weather is getting warmer as it's now spring so why not? I have Spring Fever, and it's excellent.

An always great cross-training choice is yoga, of course. Even though I do miss the relaxed style of yoga on Maui, and Bahrain ( BaYoga ) I have found a sorta sweet spot here in Istanbul. What I typically find here, though, is that most all teachers have the same classes; the same poses, too much partner work (which, to me, means too much down time and time spent in the hands of someone who is going to possibly help one to injure themselves), and too much talking.

The last one is okay though as my comprehension of Turkish isn't too great so it is more like background noise.  I can just get into my poses and concentrate on my breath and turn out the talking. Not that I'm used to a disciplined class (well, except for House of Yoga and Zen in Makawao where I practiced ashtanga), but I guess I'm used to a more intuitive class where the body talks and the mind listens. Man, I need quiet time for this :)

African dance classes started up this week! Our drummer is from Guinea and teacher is Senagalese. High energy for sure.  Perhaps it is this newest addition to my regime that is making my body ache- good ache- since there is a lot of jumping and flinging of body party involved.  Nevertheless, it feels so good.  Drums beating my body into submission while rhythmically putting me into a trance state of higher awareness... Higher consciousness... Higher frequencies being adjusted to, thus allowing me to be me... THIS. This is the Da Kine medicine...

INTERRUPTION: more coffee downstairs...

The day is already sizing up to be a tall drink of water: the sun is breaking through the clouds and I can hear the horns on the Bosphorus ships. Birds are chirping, and there is an unmistakable quietness in the TomCat antics this morning.  As spring has sprung, so have the TomCats from near and far to the doorstep of the building nearly.  They hang out in a dude-gang and battle for unassuming females, all of which are in heat collectively.  An odd-sounding symphony plays nearly 24/7 here consisting of unnerving treble (females kitties getting raped) to all about the melodious bass sounds when it's feeding time for the extensive tribe by one of the neighborhood moms who so graciously and consistently bring food to the feeding trough of the sidewalks to the baritone sounds of male dominance behavior played out as 'let's see who will fall off the garage across the street while fighting). A true cacophany of feline life in the hood captured in a mid-spring fever tribute to life in Istanbul.

COUNTDOWN: less than 2 weeks to Sicily!

In summary, "a little dab'll do ya" serves me right.  Here a dab (neck). There a dab (right outer hip socket). Everywhere a dab dab (you get the picture). I dug into my (well stocked) Tigers Balm reserves in the past week to facilitate the healing powers of (analgesic balm on) sore muscles. I started to put some on my knee caps BEFORE going out on my run... I decided this not the greatest idea even though it feels awesome.  I'm on the preventative bandwagon, but is this preventative, or masking inevitable pain without solving the problem?  It's a fine line, and it's got me wondering.  So much in fact that I started researching effects of pavement running (who doesn't know the results of this tough). I guess I'm just looking for some solid research/data to counter the obvious (pounding your kneecaps and vertebra into eventual decay). I did manage to order a new pair of running shoes though, which faithful friend JonEe will send with his otherwise awesome care packages.

As any research endeavor with me, I spent so much time on this. Days, even weeks!  It came down to 3 brands: Pearl Izumi, Hoka One One and Altra.  After much (A LOT OF) deliberation, I ordered the Pearl Izumi's.  I decided to try this 'rocker' style out after assessing my needs (stability, wide toe box, and cushioning).  The Hoka One One was my wildcard as I've never worn a 'rocker' type shoe before and they seem to be extreme.  Altra had an option or two as well, but Pearl Izumi won out.  The sizing, of course, is touchy- especially in terms of not wanting to send shit back to America so really needing the size to be correct. Not having ever tried on these 3 brands before, it's a crapshoot, but I did do indepth research and read SO many comments.  I'm feeling pretty confident about my choice and excited for arrival time!  Until then though, my Saucony Kinvara 7s are doing me just fine.  These are definitely my GO TO shoes of the decade (3 years strong with this Kinvara series and happy).
 

Peace.