Now if I can only do it when still

"Motion becomes my mantra. Through it, I gradually divest myself of worry and anger, of fear and depression - and the reasons for them. "

George Sheehan

Lost in Ft. Lauderdale; mileage unknown

Saturday, I base at Hugh Birch State Park with high hopes of doing the Big Loop in Ft. Lauderdale, the one that goes across the 17th St. Causeway, up into downtown and back east into the park. And it was a beautiful day. What I forgot was spring-breakers and vacationers in general jamming up A1A, streets, sidewalks, beaches; So as I took off south, I was anxious to get out of the crowds. And heat. Low energy, low gear, but I persevere in a kind of hypnotic gait, taking the causeway slowly, stopping on the other side at a Walgreens for some sort of super high-energy drink. Full of niacin and other B's among other things. It really seems to work, though, so off I head towards Federal and my right turn north. One block shy, I look to see if the side streets go through and decide to ditch the main drag. The route takes me past modest condos, a lovely cemetery, and starts to wind into a neighborhood of houses as I pass block by block aiming for Broward, Las Olas, something. I hit a stretch of water and decide to take a right. This will be a critical error, since there is, apparently no way for me to regain the other side of that stretch of intracoastal; for the next many miles I loop, skip and redo too many streets to mention, all lovely, all without fail no where near where I'm trying to get.

Ft. Lauderdale, in its heart, is a city of water. Like Venice. I love this aspect of it; I imagine myself living in one of those old nouveau houses right on the edge of water, of canals winding in and around lone streets, curving under arched bridges. Somehow, even in modest waters, high class yachts berth. It's a strange sight to see. A city of boats. I tried another short cut parallel to 17th trying for the beach, and get stuck at a marina. I take a bathroom break and have to hike it all the way back to the stoplight to make the turn to 17th. The exhaustion must have been getting to me by then, because I tripped and sprawled on the sidewalk. Scraped a knee and my pride as I picked myself up and began the slow jog to the causeway. I made it to the top in time for the bridge to open, and got to watch as the sailboats and little cruisers made their way through, waving to the boaters, stretching and catching the stiff breezes at the top of the rise. It takes a long time for slow little boats to come through....and when I finally take off down the other side, I am ready to be done with this run.

There are miles to go, up and up to the south beach area, cutting over for water, and grinding in for the stretch to Sunrise, a seemingly never ending stretch of a few miles I remembered running for the finish at the half-marathon, running like my life depended on it. This time, I was over-heated and over-tired. The beachies were swarming around me and all I could think about was my car, my water, my food.
Finally I come into the park from the beach side, and take the mile down the park road in a nice, steady, quiet jog. I'm amazed to still be running. Each time I'd stop I felt like I'd never run another step. But sometimes it's more comfortable to run than walk. Hugh Birch is a lovely little oasis of wilderness. I watch the sky through the canopy of trees and take the last curve before hitting the parking lot and, mercifully, the car.

For a while, I take my blanket and provisions and camp by the banks of the intracoastal to watch the boats blow by. I eat everything I have. I use the picnic table as a kind of stretch table and work out as many kinks as I can. Finally I lay with fatigue like a cocoon over me, and wrap myself into blissful silence and stillness. I can hear the rustle of palm fronds, the engines of boats and the slapping of the wake against the concrete wall. The sun, which had baked me dry, was peeking through the trees, and there was no thought, no person to please, no problem to solve, no action to do.

It may have been an hour or so by the water. It was easily 2-3 hours out on the run. I estimate, all together somewhere between 10-15 miles, at least. That's time well-spent to get back my head, claiming it from the crush of cries and demands. There is a sweet serenity to my solitude. And I am happy to protect it, enjoin it, run with it for as long as I can.

Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.

-His Holiness the Dalai Lama

Big Dreams, Big Challenges

"I like Thinking Big. If you're going to be thinking anyway, you might as well Think Big." -- Donald Trump


It's no surprise to learn how many significant holidays have fallen around this spring equinox, and with my birthday coming up, the energy of change is all around. With change, transition, with transition, discomfort, while patterns shift and what was reliable becomes elusive.

Big miles, big hopes, big setbacks. The pain in my leg continues; my overall mileage is down. I still have ultra-distance inside me, but the changes in my body are for rolling over and catching more sleep. I still want to change the world, but I'm having trouble changing my own life. The dream of Big Love is still very much alive, but it keeps getting cracked over the head by hard reality.

Still, I'm an Aries, and we dream Big; the bigger the better. I have only to look at Michael for my inspiration. My fly boy, my glider into unknown skies, who took himself up into the air and owns the risk of the transparent winds, winding his way from one breathless landscape to the next. We are linked in our mutual desire to Go Long, Dream Big and take on the challenges that will get us to the other side of any struggle. If only I can hang on.

I don't have to see with my eyes

"Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it."
--Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


I have been dreaming hard my whole life. I have a vivid inner vision and landscape, parallel plots, and whether awake or asleep I see many different things. I can dream my future, I can feel the pulse of my life. Whatever I do or dream I can, I begin, I begin again, anew, another time. It's not lost on me that times of sacrifice are celebrated. Those are the times, and this is what I'm seeing.
And if I can hold it close I will unleash the power, and magic of transforming, from world to world, away.

Against the Wind

"In the Midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you."
-- Deepak Chopra


Who said there's no spring in Florida? No matter which way I ran, there was a stiff wind in my face. They say running into the wind is the equivalent of running hills; that said, I must have run 6 miles of hills today. Somewhere in the middle, where I took a break at the small children's park off 58th for water, I felt something 'give' in my bad leg, and miraculously, I think whatever band or bind or bulge has plagued me released!!

Maybe it was the winds. Maybe it was the lift in my heart. Maybe, despite the "movement and chaos" there is a lovely, quiet "stillness" in my spirit; and even as I lift into joy or anticipation or the challenge of my everyday life, the winds do not break me, they take me to another level.

Honoring the Path of Non-violence

Tibet is much on my mind. As protests escalate, following the 50th year of Chinese occupation, even the Dalai Lama appears conflicted about the path to follow. On NPR, a Tibetan exile was interviewed, and shared this split between the older followers of DL, and the younger folks who have lived under occupation and say "enough."

What do we do when we find obstacles in our way? Do we push through or explore the terrain hoping to find a way around? There are many peoples of the world who are trying to find their way through oppression. The oppression of the mind is the most cunning of all, however, and what we choose to do about it, to press through our assumptions seems to hold a key. The DL is free in his mind. And as such, he is hard pressed to demand that someone imprisoned in their beliefs can be modified. As a therapist, I know the powers of persuasion. Let me at the Chinese, and I will try to move the mountain of selfishness that is the root of all empire.

I ran hills and drills today, and it was nice, great to be out in windy weather, and fighting against the obstacles I seek out to make me strong. We are flung into the world to work our way back out. It's a peculiar system, but it seems to do the job.