Training? Raining

Another cold front is about to pull us out of our balmy lull and back into the wintry chill....preceded by a whole bunch of stormy weather...I've done a couple of out and backs this week, between 5 and 6 miles each, this morning comfortable enough by the end to be more tolerable than I've been in a while. I'm waiting for the new Brooks to arrive. My hope is to begin s more concerted effort towards real training. But geez! could the weather help any?? I need to pound out some of this high-power stress!!

Following Ft. Lauderdale

My lost endurance from my right hip put the kabosh on doing the Ft. Lauderdale half-marathon Sunday, but in solidarity with the runners, I did a 10 mile out and back to the beach. It's been a while since I checked out the ocean; the day broke with extraordinary clarity after weeks of chilly, cloudy wintry weather (by our standards).
No excuses and no need to delay the adventure! I made sure to wear well-worn and comfortable shoes, and off to the east I went!

Sheridan is a crazy mix of 'hood and higher class areas that suddenly fan out into spectacular Nature; the intercoastal mixing in with the rest of the coastline in the briny, brisk skies reflecting jeweled tones of the water. The 5 miles to get there, not too bad. I took my time and enjoyed the ride. The ocean was shocking in its beauty!! The Broadwalk, the beaches were more full than I'd expected. Obviously everyone else got the same vibe- there is no stronger lure down here than the ocean to bring everyone into its large embrace!

I lingered long enough to soak up the sun, and breathe the good smells of the beach deep into my labored lungs. It felt good to be on my feet and independent of schedules, pressures and mileage. I realized that the need to run without agenda was good right now; even though I missed this year's big races in Miami and Ft. Lauderdale, I was on a quest of my own. The room to grow into my next self was a luxury I wouldn't trade for all the mileage in the world.

Once rested, I headed back up and over the first bridge, feeling the hitch in my hip as a reminder that time will be needed to heal whatever caught up with me since October's marathon. The warm sun felt unbelievably comforting on my skin which hadn't been exposed for months; and the light jog from point to point was doable.

It was a run to remind me that just going somewhere is the fun of it. I run to travel just like I did as a kid through the old orchard trails, wandering all over the neighborhood back paths. I get away from whatever it is that needs doing, because sometimes doing nothing but going out on expedition is the best fun. I discover, each time, the enormous natural beauty of Florida. My artist eye is soothed by the big expanse of atmospherics, weather, colors and form. I love the derelict feel of its corners around the heart of it's pulsing oceans and beaches. My body stretches itself into my very soul which bounds in it's own movement, free to fly along, unencumbered.

It may be that the body holds us hostage to the planet, but I see it as my vehicle into the spirit. Without the engine that drives me in motion, I would not as easily feel the pressure of my soul in it's more ecstatic states. I may feel it hungering for it's usual school of experiences in my work, my family etc. but it's the freedom of motion that gives me wings.

Kudos to the runners who finished Ft. Lauderdale. I ran with you in spirit. See you next year!!

Interior Me

When you have the enthusiasm and passion, you end up figuring how to excel.

-Deena Kastor


The battle for regaining my usual level of endurance, distance and strength continues...as I wrestle with worries, sleeplessness, appetite fluctuations of all sorts. I made up my mind not to give myself an 'out' on this morning's run, and despite chilly temps (for me), I suited up and out the door I went.

Something still plagues me in my right hip/leg/ankle/foot...when one spot sticks, it cascades like dominoes on down the line. When my mind becomes over-focused on one aspect of things, the energy bottles up the push of universal mind, in its ever-present rush through my being. It's been a holding pattern; waiting for things to resolve. Waiting for doors to open that are hinged on rusted bolts of inertia, willfulness, stubborn resolve of all sorts, denial of death, life and the process of change.

I found a slight respite after my stretch at Anderson park. My body was not quite on board until then, but the ride home gave me more comfort and bounce, and the chill air felt cooling and comfortable. I strive to make my peace with the wind. I aim for consistency in many things. The ability to take what weather, fates and desire dishes out is my goal. I am on my feet, fighting my way through the demons of my own making. Meanwhile the sweet song of Universal support takes the bottom note and tells me, keep going...the goal is near!

Big Wins

"It doesn't help to visualize a perfect race. It's better to play out bad situations in your mind and figure out a way out of them so you'll be ready."

Bernard Lagat


As the Saints bask in their redemption, and a chance to say "WE CAME BACK" to the world, I imagine Bernard Lagat is basking with his wife and kids in similar mode. I managed to stumble onto the Nationals yesterday and watched a slew of young runners jockey across a myriad of distances to set new records and enjoy the high tension of competition. When I saw the line-up for the 5000m and Lagat in the field, I realized I had a chance to watch one of my heroes make his statement. In a field of young bloods and wanna bes, and some really good talent, Lagat sat in #3 position most of the race, allowing a Hall look-alike to take a lead until the last lap or two. It was poetry to watch his easy strong gait until -WHAM- the brakes come off and he puts himself into high gear. In the last lap, Lagat EASILY out ran the field; when he came into the line, he crossed himself, and quickly gave his winner's bouquet to a woman in the stands. His humility, and quiet triumph was endearing, and I found myself feeling vicariously all he's attempted- and accomplished at the ripe old age of 35.

Big wins sometimes come in small, quiet moments. Watching Mom interact with the cousins on Saturday, eating birthday cake, reminiscing through memories which surfaced like shy little fish in the pond of her mind. Sending off the very last certificates to the State for my license: DONE. Preparing the mounds of produce into edible form for the coming week, and so grateful to have such an abundance of great food. Getting up and out this morning for a nice longish 6-7 miler on the Emerald Hills loop, feeling more balanced and relaxed on the roads than I have been in a while. Absorbing the crisp air and sun through the steady breathing and release of worries....owning myself once more- feeling the thrill of movement, steady and hypnotic down the road.

And often, losses are wins in other ways. The doors that close in one direction propel us somewhere else. If you've seen the movie Temple Grandin (HBO), check out her way of using "doors" as a means of moving through the challenges of her life. Autistic, marginalized and prone to bad panic attacks, her PhD in science revolutionized the way animal husbandry was evolving. Like all of us at the 'edge' of normalcy, it is sometimes the loss of our usual skills that brings on the unusual capabilities. New Orleans, you showed us how. Lagat, keep running my man!! And may the force of pure accomplishment and the poetry of doors keep us moving forward.

Resistance

In World War 2, resistance referred to the underground fighters who did everything they could to throw monkey wrenches into the Nazi war machine. Resistance was about putting up the best defense possible from tyranny and power of all kinds run amok. In psychology resistance refers to the defenses clients put up against therapeutic encroachment- don't try to change me! don't get inside my head! To change in general, resistance is the force that gets in the way...a vain attempt by the ego to control, to deny forces greater than us that have us in their grip.

I was up and out early enough this morning to catch the day young. The sun had barely put a dent into the night chill, giving off that wonderful, mystic feel of density and the slim divide between sleep and consciousness. The winds which have whipped themselves across the flats all winter are here still. When they are at your back, it feels like a motor attached to your rear end. When in your face, the effect is the same as hills. When you run in a place as flat as this, the winds are a boon- they give the same training as hills, and develop good strength and endurance.

I have an odd relationship with wind. When I first make the turn and find myself running into stiff resistance a part of me balks and whines like a little child; I resent those winds. I think, why now, why me wind? can't you just let me have my little run without all this tiresome work? I've been struggling at work with this notion of resistance as I make the turn from one moment, or day or week to the next and find the next absurd challenge- I whine, I sulk...I start to plot my revenge, or my strategy to reform, or yes, resist.

Resisting is fighting. There is the good fight, then there is the fight that spins our wheels pointlessly, against a bigger force than us. No matter how much I want to wish that wind away, I end up making friends with it, knowing that somewhere down the road my legs are going to get their leverage, and that the endurance that comes with running into the wind is worth the effort.

It's hard convincing my clients to work with that fight, and identify the benefits. All I get is the whiny, child-like complaints and bad attitude that comes with "why me, why this, why now?" What they don't realize is how smart those questions can be, if used right. The winds will find you if resistance is your game. The chilled air, the loveless night, the hard-scrabble work will haunt you if fight is the game, for fight's sake. But find the good fight. Find the good reason, to build strength, patience, stamina, resolve. Learning to utilize the forces for your favor is what it all amounts to. While the planet wobbles in its path, we will all be learning the same thing.

To my little buddha mom, whose birthday we'll soon be celebrating...who teaches me now what it's like to surrender, endure and 'dance' even when you can't move from the chair. xoxox