Life responds when we risk.

-Rodney Smith, "Lessons From the Dying"

Digging Deep

-Celebrating 28 years old, today
Happy birthday, flyboy!

I hit snooze this morning....my dream state is always most active early in the morning, so it's difficult to adjust to this schedule of getting up early- the deep tug of the subterranean world does not want to let loose and I am groggy and full of strange threads of plots rolling around in my head. But I'm committed to the schedule of training, and I've learned to put everything out the night before; running clothes, supplements- if all goes accordingly, I can be out the door in less than 15 minutes easily.

I had my mind set on the 7 miler, cutting out the overpass. The first 2 miles in is nothing but trying to sync my gait, my breath, and run through the shifting and assorted aches and pains. As I hit Arthur St., I had a lot of cramping in my quads and thought about having to either walk some or round the corner at 56th. But somehow, as I crossed that intersection, things seems to calm down and sort out. I rounded out at my usual spot, 58th St., and took the stretch to Anderson park and my water stop. I had found a nice rhythm and the day was bright, clear and hot. I needed that water, and took my time getting past Sheridan and onto the stretch that links me to Emerald Hills Dr. Somehow, when I hit that corner and began to head east, I felt myself finding another gear. The tension had left me. The sun, which was full in my face, felt warm and relaxing as the sweat poured off my arms and stomach. Without the ipods, I focus only on the pit-pat of my foot falls and listen to how they lay up on the pavement, whether I land squarely or drag in front or behind. I hit what for me was a nice, fast gait. I could feel the muscles in my outer hips stretch in and out of the stride and everything work all of a piece. I thought about why we run; to move, to fly just above the surface of the earth, to be motion, to lift, to feel our strength as we ground each footfall lightly, one by one, one by one...

Just when I think I have no more to give, when I imagine the next length of street, the next corner as so far away, it's upon me. There is always a little bit left for a 'kick', no matter how small, my way of saying "here it is, everything I've got." I have always known my strong suit is this mysterious perseverance that, based on my ever-present curiosity about everything, keeps me moving towards goals that might seem impossible at first look. When I find myself flying down the road I laugh to myself; never did I imagine I had the strength it requires to push myself to the level of sheer weightlessness I felt today. As hard as I ran, it felt like wings on my feet were helping me round those tree-shaded corners. As the sun embraced me, I felt I could absorb the rays of energy through the soles of my shoes. And somewhere, deep in my heart, was the possibility of everything.

Happy Birthday, Michael! May the winds always be kind.

Crazy 8's

-Deena Kastor and her Olympic team mates

The weather was clear, temps tolerable and the sun climbing through thin clouds at the horizon line, shooting the lower sky with threads of orange and red. I took the longer loop over the overpass, and headed west feeling tired. I kept dreaming, last night, about social events involving mysterious tickets, trysts to be etc. It was all swirling in my head the first 2-3 miles before I could kick out the cobwebs and begin to really focus on the run.

Those crazy 8's are just the thing, though, with their predictability and pattern, the tough beginning, finding the middle rhythm, and the last portion of gut and fluidity that brings me to the home stretch by the park. I see that photo of the women marathoners heading for Beijing with a rush of pride and admiration for the herculean effort I know is involved to bring them there. The network of support is one big part of what makes it all happen. But the biggest factor, by far, is surely the heart that goes into every run, every time.

Thunderheads

"My role models are the athletes who keep competing even though they're becoming older and slower - the masters and grandmasters who are still psyched up about their sport and their lives."

-KAREN SMYERS

It takes experience to appreciate the roll of thunderheads mounting the atmosphere in majestic crests of whites, grays and blues. Underneath, a band of rain showers was soaking somewhere south. As I headed west today, the system eventually caught up with me and turned my picture-perfect early sunny morning into a swirl of drizzle, winds and atmospheric changes.

After the long run Saturday and a rest day Sunday, it was a good go today. Not only to appreciate the challenges of natural forces, but to run through them. The ipods are busted (temporarily I hope) so instead I took the ride into my own mind. The message I kept coming back to was "trust the process"... and don't let the particulars bind up my energy into distraction.

It takes time, and consistency and focus to appreciate the beginning, middle and end of every run, where it's fluid, where hard, when to pull up posture and breathe, when to fall into or up the hills. (read, overpass) There was a message in those thunderheads reminding me to carry my spirit upward and outward. And to drink in the beauty of those swirling mass of colors.

Fire Lotus Mandala

For the heat of summer, Leo the sign of full blossom,
For the intensity of honest effort, getting us somewhere, anywhere, everywhere at once,
For the breakthrough of transitions into riskier places,
...for Mom, and Dad,
for you, standing in my heart, asking.

Steady as She Goes- Saturday run

-Dean Karnazes goes long

I was antsy to get out this morning for a longer long run. Up to now this season I have focused on 40 mpw averages, with a long run of around 10+ miles. Today I wanted to go half-marathon length or more, with a wide loop up and to the beach, down the Broadwalk, and thru Hollywood to home. This time I packed the hydration belt with the bottles, a Clif bar, and electrolyte supplements. The temps, at 7AM, were high 70's. Spotty clouds kept the rising sun from being too warm, and occasional showers broke out. I found my share of wildlife, including scores of baby ducks milling and fidgeting around a swampy swale on Sheridan, and rounding the corner towards Dania Beach Blvd, the scuttling of blue/orange land crabs into their holes as I passed.
The most rain hit me on that stretch, so that by the time I pointed towards the beach I was pretty well soaked, but also, gratefully cool. For some constellation of factors I couldn't identify I had a rush of steady strength on this stretch...I had not stopped yet, and took the last leg to the beach in a beautiful rhythm that filled me with joy and confidence. At Dania peer the turn south brought me onto the Broadwalk and bonding with the other riders, runners and walkers. I was tiring and needed the break at North Park to rehydrate and refuel. Heading down the Broadwalk it was a relief to see the ocean on my left, while making my way among the pedestrians. A quick toss of the head or hand to other runners, I focused on handling the brickwork which feels hard on my feet. At Hollywood Blvd, I take the bridge up and over the Intracoastal, and make the right into the gentle neighborhoods of east Hollywood.

I took just enough time to empty my bottles and the rest of my bar before meandering my way around the waterway to my right. I love old Hollywood. For sale signs are everywhere, and I allow myself to fantasize about which houses I would buy if I could. The ones with old Florida charm, others with their overgrown and lush landscapes, the individuality of their street presentations...so many places to fall in love with...as I run past. I have slowed considerably by now. I am up on Johnson Street and over US 1, and make my way through the less beautiful parts of town, over Dixie and onto Taft.
Here I take it straight on, block by block until I see my turn right, past the 'Y'.
The very last few blocks to home, I settled into a nice slow rhythm, and was much less burnt out that I expected at the end of this distance, in this heat.

The class work for next weekend is pretty much together, as I work on the rest of the reading. I am enormously pleased and proud of myself at this juncture, feeling that I've weathered recent challenges with my grounding intact. The balance I get from running, the satisfaction, joy and relief cannot be over stated. The magic in my enthusiasm to get out there and have the adventure of each run has saved my life in more ways than one. I am centered on my road ahead, steady on my feet, and savoring every foot fall along the way.

"There isn't anything except your own life that can be used as ground for spiritual practice. Spiritual practice is your life, twenty-four hours a day. There's no time off."

-Pema Chodron, American Buddhist nun