Miami News Blog

Before I moved to the Magic City, I wrote at a paper in Cleveland, where uttering the word yoga is considered as egregious a sin to your manhood as eating sorbet. But here in toned-body-capital Miami, I feel secure enough to tell you the following without fear of my boss barreling over to my cubicle to whack me with a hockey stick:

It's National Yoga Month -- kind of like National Black History Month, I guess, but with less Frederick Douglass and more incense. To honor the occasion, posh SoBe hotel and spa the Standard -- of drunk bingo and, more recently, drunk knitting fame -- will give away free weeklong passes to its yoga classes. Since we're entering the last week of September, this if officially your last chance to take full advantage. Sign up for promotion at the Standard -- or other studios offering free weeks -- here.

Even if it's not National Yoga Month, you can still find scads of free yoga in this Valhalla we call home. Classes meet three times a week at Bayfront Park. Just don't be cowed by the legion of creeps my girlfriend tells me fill the stands every session to watch.

via Mahalie's Flickr

​The University of Miami invited 149 women between their fifth and seventh months of pregnancy to one of its many research labs and split them into two groups. One group totally lucked out and got two complimentary massages every week. Massages in the name of science. 

It wasn't a very happy story. Last week, New Times brought you a tale about the psychiatric unit at Jackson Memorial. There were in-hospital hangings, sexual assault, patient escapes, and a lot more.

Thing is, when you're a reporter, you can't get into a place like that. (Although we certainly tried.) So the story was lacking when it came to photos. These might help a little.

We'd seen the stacks of state complaints -- and long lists of investigators' findings -- about the nasty conditions of the mental health unit. The one that comes to mind, for some reason, is urine stench. Click here to sort through a few recent ones.

According to former acting director of patient care Lisa Burton, the shots were taken at the Highland Park Pavilion, which houses mentally ill patients. She later presented them to the county ethics commission. (This one is a dead mouse, in case you couldn't tell. A somehow-decapitated bird is after the jump.)

Responds Jackson spokesperson Lorriane Nelson: "The Public Health Trust cannot comment on the authenticity of the photos... nor can it be proven when and where they were taken."

There are few souls more energetic than fitness legend Richard Simmons. In fact, I'm sure that he's a life-sized jumping bean. Seriously. Have you seen this video? He's known for his dolphin shorts and curly fro, but his commitment to health and fitness for regular folk is what he'll go down in the history books for. His workouts are generally low-impact and feature him screaming out little tidbits of encouragement like "You're hot!" and "Lift that leggg!" while hamming it up for the camera. Tomorrow he'll be at Bayside Marketplace (401 Biscayne Blvd., Miami) ruining your lunh break, er, getting you healthy. At noon he'll lead an aerobics class and after that he'll give energizing fitness and nutrition tips, and a "human fuel station" with free Cranergy - Ocean Spray's attempt to force your booty into motion.

 P.S. Simmons may be known for Sweatin' to the Oldies, but you gotta love watching him Huff and Puff to Hip-Hop

Lately my gym has been calling me. Day and night. I figured that I owed them money, so to the voicemail they went. Then the sneaky fuckers blocked their number and rang me at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday. I answered. I grimaced. I paid. But what I was happy to find out was that I could cancel my membership anytime. After paying my past due -- I did just that. Forget long rides to Coconut Grove and those hellish steps at the entrance to my gym, I'm looking for free ways to carve myself a new body.

Undoubtedly chi-chi fitness haven Equinox is responding favorably to our sinking economy and lack of disposable income by offering free classes at their South Beach location. On Tuesdays, get your charka in line at Sunset Salutations Yoga. This hourlong class ohms from 5:30 p.m. to 6:30 p.m. on the beach at 5th and Ocean. Yogi Coco Farnum will lead you through postures, Asana, Pranayama, Dharana, and Dhyana. Whatever that is. Click here to educate yourself, then send me an email with the breakdown. Thanks.

More free workout options after the jump...

Editor's Note: The following is not a poem, not quite a rap. But feel free to sing along.

Muffin top real fat
my pockets so slim -
How the hell am I supposed to get a workout in?
You wont catch me huffin and puffin down the street,
and my kids laugh when i try to get fit on the Wii.
So f-f-free is what it's gonna have to be
If the fat is gonna melt.
Please help me see my belt.

Sure, Sir-Chips-a-Lot. But before you figure out "how to lose the weight" you should probably figure out how far you have to go. Option A: head to Collins Avenue and pop in and out of the shops from 5th to 9th Streets. Multiply the number of sales associates that ignore you by 4.2 and that's how many pounds you should shed. Option B: Hit ProperForm at 1935 West Avenue  (next to the Publix)  and have one of their uber-buff trainers shove you into an egg-shaped contraption called a BOD POD. You must wear your bathing suit (for extra embarrassment), but it's absolutely free and finding out your body composition is pretty important. Rather than relying on what the scale says, you'll be able to accurately tell how much of your bod is fat-free and how much is fat-ty. Knowing exactly how lean you are may sound like something a hunk of Kobe beef worries about, but it can dictate the fitness and nutrition changes you need to make to reach personal health goals.

And if you're reeeally serious about building a new you, the studio is offering 3 $50 private training sessions after the initial BOD POD-dery. Tell us how it goes - we're not that serious.

Call the studio at 305-531-8818 for more information.

I was 5 when my parents dragged me to the theater to see Hellraiser. I still can't figure out if they couldn't find a babysitter or thought I would actually enjoy seeing one of the scariest movies ever made, but I can remember raising my own brand of hell nearly 15 minutes into the flick - running up the aisle, screaming, and the whole 9.

Somehow, that experience didn't sour me on long, pokey things because just last week I found myself lying face up on a bed heated by gem-grade amethysts and fine filiform needles poking out from my face, wrists and ankles. And no I wasn't at a mystical crack house, I was in the office of Elizabeth Trattner, A.P., D.O.M., a National Board Certified Doctor of Oriental Medicine and Acupuncture. She specializes in women's health, weight management, allergies, autoimmune diseases and environmental illness, but all that was ailing me was a non-drug-related runny nose. So while a faux babbling brook babbled in the waiting room and the subtly perfumed air tickled my nose hairs, Trattner asked for a look at my tongue and I obliged. One look at my furry, licking machine and she could tell that I was stressed, full of phlegm, and eating too many cold foods. Damn tongue, telling all my secrets. Before we got into the pokey-poke, I had a few questions for Trattner, because I - like many addicted to the pills that come along with Western medicine - wondered how threading needles through my skin could actually help me out.

My questions and her answers after the jump...

Some Moroccan guy was one of 2744 people who ran the ING marathon Sunday, He got lost, but still won in 2:16:40..

Almost 10.000 people ran the half marathon. Some, like me, really slow. I did the course in a a pathetic 2 hours and six minutes.

My favorite moments were spent in the line outside the bathroom in the American Airlines Arena before the run. These words were spoken about 5:45 a.m.

"Is this the line for the urinal or the shitter?"
"It can't be worth that for the shitter."
"Well how would like to shit on the course?"

And so forth. Other great moments included the Killian cheerleaders finding one of their own and cheering at the end. The Miami Beach cheerleaders adding pep when it was badly needed. A guy named Johnny from Pompano whom I spoke with at the end, who did it 20 minutes faster than me even though he had recently broken both ankles. The shortening of the course at the very end....or so it seemed...

And of course dawn coming onto the beach. The guys coming out of the clubs on Washington Avenue --- and out of the Deuce never look happier.

“I do yoga and Pilates, and the room is full of hotties. So I’m checking out the bodies, and you know I’m satisfied,” rapped Her Madgesty on “American Life.” I can’t speak for downward doggies, but after just one 55 minute Signature Intense Cardio Circuit class at NOMI Pilates I can definitely co-sign Madonna on hotties with sculpted bodies and being completely satisfied. Walking into the chic boutique studio fitted with baroque trimmings, I admit that one peek at the heavy machinery - aka the reformer - intimidated my rubbery muscles. But owner Naomi Lowit’s coolness and the promise of longer, leaner limbs pushed my fear to the side. Who’da thunk that 15 minutes later a teaser would be kicking my ass while “Billie Jean” blared through the speakers.