Micro Runs

 

Marine Corp marathon, the fall after my dad died, 2009.  

There will always be a distance runner in me.

Kenny is not quite 4 months old, and getting so verrrry big…!  I must remind myself that his age is the important factor when attempting to train him on the leash to run.   During the past few weeks, we have gone out after work into my northerly neighborhood streets which give us some nice, relaxed stretch of blocks free of major traffic.  I loop the leash around my shoulder so I have one hand on the lead directly (like training a horse), and he seems to respond well to this soft touch.  Once I warm up a tad (sitting all day in a cold office does not make for good evening runs…) I start a very slow jog and let him trot along beside me.  On a good day he can easily cover a few blocks no problem, except for his ‘distractibility’ level.  On some days EVERYTHING is interesting, even the oil spots on the road!  Other days he seems more in tune with the motion, like I am, and we just trot along comfortably.  Trouble is, between the lack of focus and the heat we never last more than a few miles before every bit of shade becomes a good place for a nice belly-down in the cool grass. (Him, that is, not me! Although it looks like a fine idea at times!)

I have not logged any “real” miles in some time, except for Sundays, and my long runs have turned into ‘medium-sized’, due to my lower level of overall endurance.  If you want to be an endurance/long-distance runner, then you need the miles, there is just no other way to do it.  So cross-training aside, losing my weekday runs under my own solo full-steam has been a worthwhile sacrifice for Kenny.

But something else interesting seems to be happening, as I pile my little micro runs up mornings and evenings.  I have never been this consistent, on a daily basis. I have never been up at sunrise (our morning walk/runs) or out every evening like I have been now.   I may not run ‘real’ miles on my usual schedule, but I AM running EVERY DAY, even if it is in very short bursts. Apparently, I am conditioned enough and these years of running have created a good foundation, a base of ability that can now carry me through these changes.  So when I’m out on the weekends without Kenny, I still do pretty well! And the gods must want me to know this, because I saw a beautiful little article via Facebook that spoke exactly to the theme of running small miles, not big ones, as a key to overall health!

 I feel so bonded, physically and emotionally, with this amazing creature, Kenny, who is a natural athlete and will be a fantastic future runner, since he’ll likely have long legs and a big chest to serve him well out on the roads, no doubt about it.  And there is something magical about having him next to me, trot-trotting along in his own little right-brain bliss, just taking in the world, same as me.  Not talking, not ‘handling’, not training, just moving and grooving along,  taking it all in. 

I tried to re-engineer all this at first:  calling on dog-sitters or gating him back up while I took off on my own.  Trouble was, I have so little time with him around work; my conscience got the better of me when I figured I would just ‘go with it’ as it is and see how it felt.  I had to get over so many of my own deep-seated control issues and prejudices:  the will to be the distance runner in my head, and not the runner in my heart who took on this doggie project by responding spontaneously to the call for adopting a puppy from an abandoned mommy.   We never know how our lives will change when we give birth, adopt (child or animal), marry/separate, but we can trust it WILL change and ferment a new mix of our daily cosmology.  I am still a runner.  I am a different runner now, a different person- with Kenny.

Sevens

A 10k is 6.2 miles.   Seven miles is a very doable distance, with just enough challenge to be considered 'long-ish' by my humble standards, when overall mileage is down- as it has been these days.  Longer than a 5k, about half the half-marathon.  I feel properly 'trained' after a 7-miler, a nice default mode.

I probably covered something like that today, my last day off of the holiday.  On the 'to-do' list:  run, pick up shopping @ WFs, write a blog post.  It's been about 7 weeks since I moved.  All this time a handful of drafts were written on themes of change and new beginnings....managing just one posted in June.  Kenny came since then,  and the entire Solstice season fast transitioning to Beltane, the mid-mark to Fall equinox coming up...the Wheel turns regardless of chaotic weather or Cosmic Re-design;  Mother Nature is undergoing her long birth process, and we can expect nothing but surprise, or miracles....and just when I think I 'got it', and the world Gestalt has opened to me,  fast open the flood gates of the unexpected.

I drove the new Jetta to Whole Foods to stage.  I geared up including hydration belt (always in summer) and my parka just in case.  Every day it's been storming, raining, flooding, lightening....somehow I've lucked out most of the time, and managed a run in between bouts of weather outbursts.  Same today.  looped south on Federal, over Sunrise to pick up Middle River and the lovely quiet residential stretch to 26th.... Taking my leisurely time afterwards for a rare Monday shopping trip for my 7 mile-ish reward of dense calories and the week's food.

Kenny is learning how to run.  At this age (still shy of 3 months) he is so distracted by everything, the stains on the road, the noises...he can hear a dog bark obviously far away.....so I watch him endlessly trying to sift through the stimuli around him.  But with persistence, he will settle into the gait I start on the leash....me in a shuffling lope,  and him syncing up besides me in his puppy stride....a beautiful thing, because I can see the runner in him.  Dogs are such natural athletes.

Monty is giving Kenny some good trainings too.  Establishing the 'pack' order of the house has settled out now, and it's been lovely to see Monty heal from losing Seven, his dog I knew when we first met.  Seven was also a rescue, a mixed something and his loss has cut a deep wound for M all these years.  Kenny's funny, sunny exuberant nature make it impossible not to fall in love with him.  And yes,  a dog can heal so much.

The blogs are full of inspired wisdom on the 7/7/7 today.  July (7), 7th, 2014 (2/14=7).  Signs and symbols are everywhere right now, your signs, mine;  and Great Mother's atmospheric blasts,  Her news with views, for where ever you are now in the world,  great change is upon you too.  Your village is under siege, or assault, or sinking into the sea, the desert, the endless rows of farmland.  Your family was displaced by flood, fire, famine, fear of murder, rape, cultural genocide.  The more that surfaces the more I celebrate the Cleansing of this endless pain, washing and rewashing out the wounds of the Patriarchy upon us all.

I don't know how deep the ETs were to orchestrate such polarizing dharma, because I feel more and more now that it's pointless, this eternal repetition complex we have all resigned ourselves too...THIS TOO is obsolete.  For once, we can step cleanly outside of the mind-fuck that is the patriarchal control-machine.  So it doesn't matter too much to me anymore who orchestrated it all.  They, too, are becoming irrelevant.  The Old Game is over.

Freedom is always the first law because in reality it's already 'Free';  all this other stuff is just our mass hypnosis, our distortion, our attempt to subjugate ourselves somehow, some way into a powerless place.  There's an attraction to staying there too,  it 'seems' as if we have side-stepped all choice and responsibility.  We can build denial higher from the foundations of the prison we have been led into, and remain even though the key is in the lock, in the door.

So here in our displacement of mind, of 'right-mindedness',  of sync with our True Nature and that of the World,  we need mantras to remind us:  FREEDOM IS THE FIRST LAW.  Yes, YOU are free..  YOU too,  can believe what your heart is telling you, it's YOURS- your heart, your soul belongs - no matter what- to only you.  YOU ARE SAFE.  YOU are FREE. 

When you climb the "Seven Story Mountain" you are ascending your own inner chakra/energy system.  Something has called to you for a long time,  and it's something that causes that energy to happen, to travel without obstacle to the fulfillment of you.  Sevens will liberate you in a musical bar; seven days a week,  you are being reminded:  work with that passion, follow that Bliss- something Bigger than us is coming on through.  It will make our Freedom apparent,  it will show us where our Power truly lies.   Today I run my journey and celebrate a path that leads me through the nodes of chaos, putting soft shards of sunshine in my back pocket. 

Many Firsts and Lead up to Solstice

When a road runner like me comes across a new route,  thrilling anticipation is the result- even if the route has a history.  The new beach loop runs part of the same roads used in the Ft. Lauderdale marathon, and by the local runners club when I was training for all that years ago.   Oakland Park was also once my 'cut-through',  driving from Hollywood up to see my parents in the old days...hitting the Whole Foods on Federal.  So having some history here, even while newly arrived, gives me a context for many firsts.

How many?  How long have I ruminated over having my own private practice space:  and finally! My first Saturday clients, listening as they bask in the big easy chair in the back office...the sunlight through the windows, the quiet green of the backyard buffering us from the world.  First drives down to work, forays to neighborhood breakfast places, pizza places, stores of all kinds...first nights and mornings without worrying what nonsense is going on upstairs, or down the catwalks...first evenings sitting out in the yard, writing, drawing or just putzing around.   First visitors.   First storms! 

Crafting new routines is my way of coping with change, and a good strategy overall.  For many folks, leaving ourselves open to the impact of change can cause stress and anxiety.  So after those first few weeks,  I began to find my new rhythm;  waking up early to a niche of sunrise slanting through my window.... running at least several days during the week after work,  finding new loops - and new serenity- through the gorgeous SE neighborhoods.  Scoping out new plantings, artwork, spaces for creating, resting, hanging out...feeling an up-swell of satisfaction and gratitude that all my planning and hard work has brought me here,  my little slice of heaven. 

If you live in my area and feel inspired,  come join me for Summer Solstice on Saturday June 21st. (4-7pm)  We'll hold a circle around my fire-pit and celebrate the Longest Day, the fullness of growth, the gift of Light.

We plant ourselves into the world.  As our roots anchor us,  our branches reach out to find nourishment and communicate with the living atmosphere.  Even a 'transplant' can grow successfully when planted with care...So bring plants or seeds for exchange and a vegetarian dish if you'd like to hang around and share a meal.  Message me for address.  And allow yourself to get into YOUR right mind!

A Birth Story

In 1980,  I lived in an old farmhouse in rural Virginia where I gave birth to my one and only child,  a home birth with a midwife.  The legend of that night contained many strange occurrences:  it was mid-summer and unusually cold.  I had a craving for steak prior to labor.   At 8 centimeters I seemed to get 'stuck' and entered what I can only say was a kind of true transitional zone where I distinctly remember standing by and looking out the bedroom window and feeling like the world was collapsing. 

Pushing through those last centimeters and birth was no doubt the most intense experience of my life.  I often think of it as a primary life metaphor;  feeling the fear of passage, while coming to know that I am stronger and more resilient than I could ever imagine.  Despite it's many sad lessons such as post-partum depression, and the implications for my then husband and son,  the seed of that knowing served me in subsequent challenges, always in a similar way.  It's when I close in on the goal that I tend to collapse.

I found this out in my first marathon,  trying to cross the 18, then 20 mile threshold, when my body felt like giving out.  I remembered it at my last one in DC,  when I was sure I would never make it to the phalanx of marines at the finish line.  In graduate school,  I was a few months shy of completing when my emotional state crumbled.  And in my career,  I point to many a moment when prior to a breakthrough I felt the end was near.

I am going through such a passage now,  before the move.  I have deliberately kept it stirring in my inner cauldron,  watching what has surfaced,  which fears and anxieties belong to me and which ones I inherited from my mother.  Never underestimate the power of ancestral beliefs and emotional patterns to influence us in the present-  it doesn't matter if your loved ones are in this world or not.  The beliefs operate in you like unconscious scripts.  So in this manner I am finding my fear of pressures, chaos, bailing out, in short- disastrous failure and not reaching my goal, poking holes in my otherwise enthusiastic anticipation of what this move is all about.

This is a dark place.  But I am not in fear this time.  I have those memories of finish lines crossed,  degrees hard-earned,  career moving forward and the many client success stories to tell me, my path is working.  I have my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter all well and wonderful.  I am a healthy elder, ready to embark on the next leg of my journey,  and what I am birthing will be AWESOME!

It's important that we embrace the hard parts of our path,  and understand that EVERYTHING coming up in us is our teaching and guide.  Our wise minds understand how fearful we can become and push us closer into that fire, because the Beneficent Ones wait for us deep in that cauldron of change.  When we can encourage our Selves, like any good Midwife,  by facilitating the Process,  we will move through.  Will we also learn the lessons, and recognize what we needed to leave behind?

I leave my fear of not belonging;  I leave my fear of ending up like my mother,  stuck in a life plan with a life partner that kept her in emotional bondage and sapped her physical strength, of the 'inevitability' of all genetic tendencies to map who and what I am.  I claim the benefits of my dedication to my 'work'- and as I come to crowning I anticipate what is coming as a Beacon,  an Oasis, a Magic Garden where ideas of Beauty and Belonging will grow. 

Sunday Long Run: Checking in with La Mer

I forgot the temps dropped overnight:  by the time I saw morning light,  we were in the 60's, but a clear sky allowed the sun to brighten and warm the air through a chilly breeze.  I drove and staged just east at the new Publix, so I could pick up a few things after,  and ran down Sheridan to pick up the the road to Dania Beach blvd and the long lazy stretch to the beach.  It was just cool enough - but not too chilly for me,  as I tried to get a gait going,  still stiff from Saturday's nice Griffin loop. 

Traffic was light,  and my half-asleep head meandered around the landscape,  the hedgerows along the waterway,  a 'dragon-boat 'with crew heading south as the light sparkled off the intercoastal,  making a pit-stop at Dania Beach before picking it up again down Surf Road.
I'm having nostalgia attacks on these runs-  how many more times on THIS route,  seeing THESE little landmarks I have come to know and cherish all these years living here?  I'm sacrificing many little treasures, as we all must when we move- or change....we all lay down what has become so familiar,  knowing we are picking up new, hidden treasures which wait for us in our new 'place' - whether a home or in our awareness and understanding.

So beneath the nostalgia of losses was excitement, anticipation...the road is leading me....to what?  I have an idea- but there are many new runs in front of me - still to the beach- following meandering side streets -except it won't be my cherished Griffin loop or Dania Beach runs any more. 

There was a charity walk at North Park.  Despite the people traffic, I had an amazing rhythm going as I headed into my last pit-stop and took in the ocean....

watching the quiet colors of morning bleed into air and water while the palms swung in the breeze.   Hollywood gave me my career, my home and a place to help my parents exit this world.  I've packed and sorted the million little items of my life into their boxes and wait now to land in the next place....I inhabit this transitional zone like the beach itself, eroding my old dreams,  disappointments and losses into the wide mouth of the crashing surf, taking it all away to churn up again - with new dreams and ambitions- some place else. 

As I headed back west to the car,  I had more energy and speed than I've felt for some months!  Was I catalyzed by the changes?  Did my feet know more than my head,  pointing themselves with confidence ever forward?  Leaving things,  no matter how hard, will always comes with sadness.  But what I've gained has served me well:  after all,  it was here I became a runner! 

Thank You, Boston- Thank You Mother Earth

 The elite women start first, after the intrepid wheelchair racers.  I couldn't believe my luck:  I found the marathon live-streaming, and as I worked at my desk,  I had the marathon LIVE in real-time, on the tiny screen of my phone, in front of me.

Shalane Flanagan looked great;  she set a fast pace for the women.  But somehow after the mid-way mark, I lost track of her during the business of the unit, and when I got back to it,  Jeptoo,  last year's winner, was out ahead.  Jeptoo with that crazy running style, arms that seem to fly around her,  legs that eat the distance in a record pace....when she crossed the finish I could feel her joy and relief;  2 back to back wins!

Meanwhile,  my man Meb, soon to turn 39 and old for a marathoner, stayed true to his mission:  start strong and stay in the lead...which he did mile after amazing mile....not only that but at one point putting more than a minute between him and everyone else trying to catch him, including Ryan Hall.
Meb was a study in grace and beauty;  straight up,  relaxed,  seeming to glide off the pavement, the hills, whatever the course offered.  Meb had been close to wins before.  Clearly,  despite the attempts of the 2nd man closing in on him,  he was going to cross that line in front.  I cheered, I shared;  I'm sure my staff thought I was a little nuts.  For an hour or so I forgot about work and desks and clients.  I was a runner celebrating big wins!!

When I ran on Sunday, I took the big Griffin loop and forgot the stores would be closed for Easter.  So I ran it all in one long lazy stretch, reveling in the beautiful cool temps and quiet streets,  feeling tired but full of hope and anticipation for the Boston runners.  When you are a turtle,  a wanna-be, and all your heroes are great athletes,  you must not compare yourself too much.  Watching elite runners fulfill my own fantasies of flight on foot was enough.  I was filled with my own joyous passion! 

Tonight,  after work,  I made sure to honor Mother Earth day with a beautiful little out and back,  basking in the strong sun contrasting with just a hint of coolness to the air, as we sink into the evening hours.  Everything is in motion.  It's enough to keep pace with whatever life asks of us,  on our slow days or at the height of our racing powers, with full steam ahead!  For once I can just enjoy the journey to wherever I happen to be going.

With Her.  Our Mother, Gaia. 

Mile by Mile, the Road Rolls On

The eve of Pesach,  the lunar eclipse and the anniversary of the Boston marathon bombing brought a strange significance to the skies.  Lately it seems as if pearly luminescence is dripping through the filaments of clouds in creative chaos.  It seemed a miracle that despite the stormy weather hovering around, there would be clear skies for eclipse viewing

So my night began early and was punctuated by a distinct dimming in moonlight through the back windows, telling me it was time.  Stiff legged from my 3 day running stretch, I stumbled around for my clothes even though I'd set them out....grabbed the phone/camera and started on the back porch- another miracle, for there was the moon,  perched right in my eye-line, hung like a pearl with the diamond stars glittering around.  And best of all, in the background I could hear the hoot hoot of the little burrowing owl, who apparently roosts at night in the tree, singing. 

When I realized the eclipse was in full swing,  I took off downstairs and planted myself in the middle of the common area,  the owl in her tree just to my right, the moon straight above, showing its rusty red as it continued to dim lower.

I was surrounded by apartment buildings and security lights, and everywhere I felt the press of people unaware of it all.  If I looked only up,  it was easy to imagine my proximity to all this heavenly beauty,  up close, swinging with the stars between the forces of planetary impulses, and the leveling plane of solar opposition:  enough to drown out the whole moon.

It was the color of menstrual blood, a rich rusty red.  The rush of primal understanding was below words.  And I liked it that way.  I haven't written here very consistently lately.  The move is underway!! and as so much continues to reveal and situate itself,  my ability to take it mile by mile is paying off big time.  I stood in the yard last night and felt a sweet nostalgia for the length of time it has taken us to get here;  this strange Cosmic pivot point, turning point,  while feeling that very soon,  whatever is about to take place is more wondrous than anything we could imagine.

Suddenly I am ok not trying to find the words.  Sometimes its ok to just go with the flow, and take it mile by mile- tonight I ran through the storms,  but another day its clear skies all the way.  the Road Rolls on.