There is nothing like a trail run to reset your focus. I especially love when the trail narrows into a single track. The hypnotic sound dirt crunching beneath my feet is pure bliss. I just can’t help but fall into a meditative like state. Mindful running; I love it!
I joked about having to cut my run short because I was signed up to take theMAN’s yoga class that afternoon. Exaggerating a bit, I described being held in yoga poses for torturously long periods of time. While it is true that theMAN has an affinity for the various warrior poses, many of the other yoga instructors also seem to be stringing the various warrior sequences into the flow — one after another after another.
Truth be told, my body was speaking to me. It was pointing out my irregular running pattern and I, being acutely aware of my current body’s limitation, was merely coming up with an excuse not to overdo it. I didn’t just want to run; I also wanted to roll out my mat with the intention of finding balance between the soft, soothing stretches and twists, to the fierce strength of the warrior sequences.
I’m not sure how I was designated “the” person responsible for end of life arrangements: releasing the body from the medical examiner, signing for the disposition of Dad’s remains, coordinating the mass in his honor, and keeping the family informed. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time.
I keep plugging away, doing the tasks at hand as best I am able, delegating what I can, then answering to why the task was delegated. And for those who want to help but aren’t able to take on the things I have the foresight to think of, I am left trying to make them feel better.
Meanwhile, my own needs are set aside.
When I finally decided that I needed to put my needs in front of all of the responsibility that I have inherited, the world blew up in protest. As soon as I parked in front of the entrance to the park, my phone rang. It was my dad’s significant other conveying the urgent need for my drivers license and the letters from me and my siblings to be faxed to the medical examiner.
But that wasn’t the end of it. Before I’d hung up from her, another call arrived. By the time I hung up, three text messages arrived. In an attempt to ward off rebellion, I did my best to attend to these as quickly as I could. Then, I declared that I needed an hour of “me time.”
You may have noticed, I haven’t been logging a whole lot of running miles. For someone who has pretty much run all of her life, this down time has been something of a mixed bag. While, at first, I enjoyed the freedom to do what ever sort of run (or not) I felt like on any given day — no pressure to stick to a training schedule — I have now found that my body has become too accustomed to not running at all.
It’s not so much the physical activity per se — or is it?
Earlier in the month, I found my great toes were getting ripped raw to the point that I would be left hobbling about after each of my runs. It took me a while to identify the issue. When I did, it took me even longer to locate a new pair of my favorite running footwear (in my size). My running was further set back by the breaking in period. Believe it or not, it had been so long since I had broken in a pair of VFFs, I forgot about how the fresh seams rip up my precious feet. I spent another 2 weeks sidelined as the blisters healed up enough for me to head out again.
When I did, it was exhilarating! However, my body reacted with back soreness which trickled into my other activities. The thing is, I want to run. Correction: I need to run. Aside from now being registered for my first event of 2012, running is the activity that clears my head the best. Better than a seated meditation, running is the activity that helps me find separation from the things that stress me out.
Now, if only I can transition back into a more routine level of running without struggling with the woes that hold me back.
In the practice of yoga, yogis are encouraged to leave their egos at the door. In the practice of running, I am finding it equally important to leave my ego behind when I head out the door.
Today, I stood waiting at the corner, alongside another runner, waiting for the light to turn green. The other runner, apparently eager to get her run going, darted across the street before the signal changed. And although there was a car moving into the intersection, she had ample time to get across (as did I) — unless she were to trip. Playing it safe, I stood on the corner and waited it out, reminding myself that the separation between her and me would make it easier to refrain from unnecessary competitiveness.
By the time I hit the RR tracks, I could see my female friend just ahead me. I wondered if she’d stopped or slowed following her rush to get off-road. Then, I reminded myself to run my run without any comparison to anyone else. In other words, I resisted my ego’s advice to catch her.
I glanced down at Ms. G, whom I have only just been reunited with and smiled. My pace felt good and the pace reported by Ms. G was reassuring. After running without even a watch for the greater part of 5 months, I was happy to know that I hadn’t completely lost my get-up-and-go.
I moved along at my own pace, motivated by the looks on Ms. G’s face and, low and behold, I was slowly but surely closing in on my female friend. By the time I passed her, I was nice and warmed up. I gave her a wave and ran on at my own pace. Of course, it wasn’t long before I could hear hear feet at my heals. I moved to the left, motioned her to pass, and keep my pace. Even if I had the energy to go for it, it was easy for me to shoosh my ego with a reminder that my last great fall was on this very part of the trail.
I followed behind my friend to the turn around and back towards the office for about 1/2 mile. Then, I stopped for a picture and to distance myself from the urge to go for it. I really, really, really did not want to play a game of cat and mouse today. I just wanted to run my own run.
