Recording a podcast, shooting yoga theory videos, writing book reviews, and shooting pictures for the new yoga course. Today was a full day. Yet, we found time to go for a run. We had to combine it with the photo-shoot, but he, we ran. A run that reminded me of India. Of bumping into cows at night.
Call me producer, call me technician. I do something with buttons and cables, throw in an idea, edit a bit, and we have another La Scimmia Yoga podcast. Thanks to Sara. She’s the anchor lady of the show.
Yoga for your spine
It was just the start of a lot of recording. After lunch we shot all the theory videos for the new Yoga for your Spine course. Now I just have to find some stock images, but that will be next week’s job.
This afternoon we wanted to shoot the cover pictures for the course as well. As time was ticking, we decided to combine it with our run. It gave us the option to shoot and run in the Cartierheide in Eersel, a beautiful national park.
It worked very well. Sara is a good runner by now, so we could go pretty far into the Cartierheide to do the shooting. It just went wrong when I thought I had a good idea.
Red is not purple
See, we always follow the purple route. We know it by heart. Yet, there are more routes starting at that parking lot. Red I thought. So, when we were done running and crossed the red route, I asked Sara if she was fine taking that one as a shortcut.
Well, it brought us to a parking lot. Just a parking lot on the other side of the Cartierheide. See, it’s the orange route that starts at our parking lot. Not red. But he, red or orange, what is the difference?
The answer is 6 kilometers. Six kilometers in the dark, because by the time we were sure we were walking the wrong way, it was getting quickly dark.
Dark in the forest, is seriously dark. At the end, we just followed a bicycle path. That way we could at least feel our way back.
It made me think of India. The first time I went there to study yoga I stayed in a guesthouse a bit outside of the little center of Agonda beach. Although even center is a big word. A church, school and a couple of restaurants, that was all in those days.
On a regular basis there were power cuts in the evening, and the few streetlights that actually worked, would go out. That meant we had to find our way back to Fatima guest house in pitch darkness.
We would slide one foot in front of the other. As long as we were on a dirt road, we were going in the right direction. As soon as we felt either sand or grass, we were drifting too far to the side.
One night I stayed out a little too late, so I decided to hurry back to get enough sleep before morning meditation at 6 am. As I ran through another pitch dark night on my flip flops I suddenly bumped into something big. Something soft-ish. I couldn’t see anything. The stars and the moon were hidden behind clouds. Carefully I stuck out my hand to feel what was blocking the road. When I touched it, it made a loud moo sound.
What was blocking my way, was a bunch of cows. They freely roam the streets and beaches in India. Cows are holy, so they are allowed to go where they want. It’s just that, when night falls, they stop walking. No matter where they are. In my case in the middle of the street.
As dark as that night in India, it wasn’t tonight. We could see the contours of the road, and after an hour through the dark, we were back at the car. Twenty minutes later we were back home. Back in the light. Artificial, but still, light.