Friday, August 13, 2010

"Some Heavy Lifting . . . "


Greetings all,

For the second posting in the "Love Letters" series . . . we're going to swing away from the design world for a moment . . . as a wise person once said, "One does not live by tassel fringe alone."

So, for the letter "b," we're going to take a short car trip across the western edge of San Francisco . . . and imagine a damp, chilly weekday morning . . .

"B" is for . . .


"Baker Beach, San Francisco"


On the northwest corner of the city - overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and the Marin Headlands - Baker Beach is one of the many locations where my bootcamp group, Koi Fitness, meets for our morning workouts.


As I've stated in previous posts about my workout regiment, it's not as bad as it sounds. (now, yes, it's a tough workout - but, there no one standing over us yelling obscenities whilst we're doing push-ups in the mud. Well, not too often . . . lol)


But, easily the best part of the being with the group for over 3 years is the great friendships I've made over that period. These are people that have seen me at my best - in good spirits, feeling fast, feeling strong - and people that have seen me at my lowest - tired, sweaty, spent. And I think because of the incredibly early hour that we meet - there's little chance of pretense or posturing. At 6am in the morning, you really can only be yourself.

And because of that, many of my great friendships have grown out of my workout partners. And being surrounded by good people - people spending their precious sleep time to better themselves - is the perfect way for me to start my day.


The evil Baker Beach Sand Ladder.

Yes, we run this quite often.
Swearing all the way to the top.



And here's members of our happy little band - spending the morning volunteering for a clean-up day at the Baker Beach last summer. I've always appreciated the fact that the organization is so committed to giving back.

Whew, the good news is - if all this chatter about push-ups and running has exhausted you - you'll find a perfect respite with tomorrow's post . . .

Running up that hill,
tartanscot