Moving with Mudras

I have been grasping for anything that I believe can carry me over my 3km barrier. Mudras are what took me to a higher level of meditating, and it was this inkling that made me think they maybe transferable to running. If you don't know what a mudras are do not worry. You have been using them all along without knowing that they were called “mudras”. Every time you put your hands in prayer position, that is a mudra. Ever interlaced your hands together? That too is a mudra. Utilizing acupressure points to tap into your internal energy sources. I like to think of it as antennae to energy. Others will think it is a whole lot of mumbo jumbo. Shame. They are missing out.

I was on retreat, meditating on a rooftop in Morocco. It was the first time I had used this particular mudra (I think it was the heart one) for a length of time and no matter what tricks I used I could not settle comfortably into meditation. This was unusual at this point in my practise. I fidgeted, sighed, changed sitting positions anything to provide a distraction. I went back to the breath and found myself weeping uncontrollably. How embarrassing! I have seen people emotional many times when meditating on retreat and it always peaks my curiosity. What dark imaginables must be lurking in their souls, how they must be tortured by inconceivable memories.... I feel a great surge of compassion. For me, that was not the case. I had no idea why I reacted that way, there was no explanation. They say you have not truly meditated till you have cried and on that rooftop in Marrakesh I bawled like a newborn baby. Such is the subtle power of a mudra.

I have been experimenting with two mudras. I don't even know what this first mudra is called but it's speciality is to reduce all physical weakness. You place the tip of your ring finger on the tip of your thumb, with the other three fingers straight. The pressure should be strong enough to make a “lock” but not hard enough to whiten the finger tip. I begin my run with this one. Before I start feeling like I am running out of steam I will also place the pinky tip on top of the thumb. This mudra is the one of life and it removes any fatigue. The key, I discovered, is to use it before you need it. I'm useless at instructions so if you are really interested just google mudra or I found this site http://www.kundaliniyoga.org/mudras.html I have spent a great many runs concerned that on coming traffic would think I was giving them the finger from their vantage point. Despite this, I feel more at ease running with my hands in this position. The more common running fist position I feel is instictually aggressive and closes an important energy point. Alternatively the flopping fish hands just look comical and I have yet to see a “real runner” not correct this one.

I'm still exploring mudras in running. Since I have used mudras effectively I have managed a 5km run twice. I still walk if I need too but I find the time I need to walk has been halved (one minute walking break down to 20 seconds). I feel the quality of my running has improved, although I have yet to run a whole 5km straight.

I would like to point out that I do not know of anyone else who runs while using mudras. If you have I would love to hear of your experience. Or if you decide to try it let me know how it goes. If this is your first time using mudras then it maybe best to try it out a few times first sitting down with your eyes close to see how it makes you feel before you try it running. You do not want to have a mudra moment mid run. Trust me!

Running as a journey not a race.

My personal history and experience with running has been one riddled with pushing yourself that little bit harder, no pain no gain and using competition to edge yourself over the finishing line. This has not served me well in running or in life. I may have had some wins but I never felt much like a winner. In contrast, when I am in a yoga pose I do not berate myself for not doing it perfectly or “winning”. Everyone's bodies are shaped differently, people hold their strength in varying ways and not everyone is at the same stage. It is about finding your breath, listening to your body, easing your way in. As one of my wiser teachers would always say, “bring acceptance into your practise”.

So this is what I do. I try to celebrate what I can do well rather than wallow in what I deemed as large failures. Running mindfully has meant I have never had to search for motivation. I also have complete mastery of my breathing. Strangely I have yet to have any sore muscles or aches. However these last two points, one could also argue this means I am not running hard enough.

I have started running 7 telephone poles further than the 3km mark and it takes me past some horses. At the time I was willing my body to keep running when clearly all it wanted to do was walk. It occurred to me, if it was the horse running with me on it's back I would have shown it more compassion than I do myself. I would have made sure that the horse would slow down if it was tired, told it look how far we have come and how close we are home and patted it's mane in encouragement.

I can not honestly say I like running yet but I can say I do not dislike it. This in itself feels like a milestone. No matter what condition I am in on the run as soon as I see the last hundred meters to our mailbox I pick up my pace, confidently and compassionately stride with effortless grace. For those last hundred yards of every run, I am the runner I will be.

Looking for where to look (and for the tape measure).

I've been "running" steadily for over six weeks now, still attempting the same 3 kilometres and am bitterly disappointed I do not have body in manner of Cameron Diaz. I have been misinformed I was sure it was 1 kilometre = 1 kilogram lost. Wasn't that the whole point of the metric system? I tried on some second hand "real runner" clothes and I look like a trussed up marshmallow.

I've started reading other running blogs for advice and inspiration but am discouraging (see http://brokenheartedrunner.com/?p=443 It's all a bit advanced and overwhelming, like entering a marathon before you can run at all. The only suggestion I tried was using golf balls to give your bum cheeks a self-massage but you need to have glute muscles for this and the balls just sink into me, get lodge and don't move. This is heading into dangerous territory. I decide to google "non runner" blogs and it does not bode well. I couldn't find anyone who had updated a post for two years. What happened to them all? Did they give up? Die? Is this my fate? I hope not. I like to think that they are too busy getting high off the happy endorphins of running heaven. Evidently this has yet to happen to me. So if anyone has suggestions for beginner runner blogs or know a time frame to arrive at runners heaven please share.

Part of the problem is that real runners do not remember what it is like not to run. Like a baby quickly forgets their birth. I need someone to simplify this down to basics. As stated in my last entry I worked out not to use headphones or listen to music, that I sussed out myself by observation. But where does a real runner look? At the horizon (the makes me nauseous)? Their feet (gives you a bad neck)? Sky? If I find something really difficult it is my instinct to close my eyes to concentrate. I notice myself doing this to summon strength and focus. When running this is a dangerous and unbalancing habit. I also have a tendency to roll my eyes upwards to the heavens, in a silent non-verbal gesture, "Why oh why am I compelled to do this?" I prefer running with the sun behind me casting my much thinner shadow in front. I imagine I am running to meet a thinner version of myself. After much painstaking research I did find the answer. When running you should look exactly 6 metres in front. Now I will have to get a tape measure.

A lot of these "real runners" who blog seem to have had a head start. They do not need to look far for inspiration. Some have had traumatic experiences, innumerable operations or conditions that they have managed, with sheer grit and determination, to overcome and run over a hundred marathons. I am just fat and lazy. Hardly inspiring. I think all this running is making me cynical and cranky. Better skip the run and sit on the meditation rock for awhile. Ommmmmmmm.

 

 

Here is what the Gulf Shore road looked liked the other night. Feel very fortunate to live somewhere you can see the sun rise and set over water.

 

PS - I would like to retract and apologise to my husband for saying he listened to talk back radio in my last post. Apparently this has caused him much anguish. I don't know what he listens too but it is boring with no rock music. I wrongly assumsed this was talk back radio.

 

Finding My Own Rhythm

Clubbed to Death use to be my favourite running song. It was 2006 and I had just moved to London and convinced one of my oldest and dearest friends to let me start running with her. It had been a really hot summer and my lungs were collapsing with the smog, my muscles were fatigued and Islingston had completely disoriented me, panicking that I would be unable to have the energy to make it back to our "bunker" I began to hyperventilate. We had been running for just over 7 minutes. I saw my saviour a local council worker picking up rubbish and managed to convince him to give us a lift home. Being a sophisticated Londoner my friend was mortified but cared enough about my safety to help the councillor worker escort me home in the council van. She never ran with me again. This is one of my many failed attempts to be a runner and the last time I heard Clubbed to Death. True Story.

One of my many observations about "real" runners is that they run in silence. Since I began running with Spirit I have ditched the headphones and obsession with creating the perfect play list. This, surprisingly, has been the easiest transition so far. Silence is rare in my life. I have a husband that thinks talk back radio is interesting, a 3 year old who talks incessantly about anything, a 2 year old who likes rock music and a 11 month old baby who is desperately trying to be heard above it all. There is no longer a disco inside of my head when I run. I silently witness, with every thud, one step closer to completing my marathon miracle. This is sacred.

But sacredness aside, it is also very practical. I know when to focus more on my breathing. I can hear what direction cars are coming in (this is handy having spent the most part of my life driving on the "wrong" side), and identify animals rustling in the ditch. Like this evening when I heard something, and my heart sunk thinking "BEAR!". Half in excitement as I have never seen a wild one yet, but also I would be very tasty to a bear. I have a nice, even layer of fat and the mosquito bites are testament that I am sweet and tasty. On the plus side if I was attacked it would be a credible reason to hang up my sneakers and get a very cool scar. But unfortunately it was not a bear. It was a skunk. I had never seen a live skunk either till this evening. It just toddled on up to me with no fear, waving it's tail like a puppy. Even a bear would be scared of a skunk. I can not get skunked and luckily, this evening I discovered I can out run one. My heart rate is my new beat, my erratic, gasping, wheezing breath a constant chorus. I'm running to my own rhythm.

My 3km Marathon

The problem with doing something successfully is the expectation that you can do it again. My lucky underwear run was over ten days ago and I haven't been able to replicate it since, despite best efforts. The energy my enthusiasm generates is rapidly depleting so I decide to have a look at the "How to Run" program and realise that you are suppose to have 3 "rest" days a week. Against my nature, I take two rest days as my ankles are starting to pop like popcorn and my left knee is protesting. I like to complain about them often as I can as it makes me sound hard core but the truth is they did this before I started running.

Starting to run again after my "rest" feels like beginning all over again. I came across the term "marathon shuffle," whereby your body is so fatigued you can barely put one foot in front of another. I empathise. I hit that wall at the 1 kilometre mark in my 3 kilometre goal. Every step is a choice to keep going. In these hardest moments in the run, like in life, I feel Spirit has forgotten me. Why me? Why is it harder for me? Everyone else can do it? I guess in a spiritual context the word choice would be replaced by freewill. I can always stop. But really, where's the fun in that?

PS - The Gazelle has gone back to university so I am looking for another running partner (any offers? Must not get embarrassed easily). This link is in honour of her running with me....remember your pinky promised!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1UvxxYIv3U&feature=related