My FIRST race.

 Sorry to disappoint but I do not expect my race preparation techniques to feature in a Running magazine any time soon. The morning of the race I undid the knot in my elasticised running pants so they fit and tried to tuck in as much back fat into my sports bra as possible to close the straps. The night before I ate copious amounts of pizza. The week before I did no training as I was too busy making home brew and getting slightly tipsy on the tastings. Three months before the race I managed to squeeze in five runs. All in two weeks before the race. My children were more excited than me and were expecting me to win a trophy. The only thing I knew for sure is that they would be disappointed.

I could face this potentially humiliating race if I could find someone equally as ridiculous to do it with me. My one and only running partner, Gazelle had abandoned me to return back to university, taking any training motivation with me. Many requests were rejected. However, I did find one willing, brave soul who prefers to be unnamed and henceforth will be referred to as P. She too had not run all summer and before that only ever on a treadmill. Then I gave my attitude a major overhaul.

If someone had said to me last August (while I was laboriously running my ten steps and then recuperating by walking ten steps for a total of ten minutes) that one year later I would run a 5k race I would have told them to “tell 'em their dreaming!” Here I am one year later about it do it. That alone is an accomplishment and something to celebrate. One year later I am a runner who is still running (never mind that it is sporadic because really when does life ever go to plan.) No, if I was going to run this race it would be with a spirit of joyfulness and gratitude - gosh darn-it!

I always knew the Butter Trail run would be the perfect first race for me. It is a beautiful, peaceful trail. The race is small (120 people registered, half doing the 5km and half doing the 10km). The $40 registration fee is a fund raiser for the local recreation centre. Asking for donations just ain't my style. I admire and respect the race director, Jennifer Langille, who is humble and gracious. There is free child care. Fortunately, the weather was 16 Celsius, slight breeze, with just enough cloud cover to keep the sun off. You couldn't even pre-order better weather. The best part of all (besides the race t-shirt and goody bag) is that you can pin your race number to hide any jiggly belly fat.

Standing at the starting line was rather nerve racking. Truth be told I was a tad emotional too. I hoped P didn't notice. Mostly surrounded by all these rather serious, fit people fiddling with their gadgets and gizmo’s. I still wasn't sure what my running time would even be having never timed myself before.  The starting gun fires.

The locals came out of their houses with lawn chairs to cheer us on. I always run alone so I get such a happy buzz running with other people, and for awhile I just soak it in. I also get talkative which is hardly surprising. Any excuse really! I remember my friend Nicola in Scotland saying during her first marathon she just gave up and started socialising. At the time I thought she was bonkers and wondered how that could possibly happened but now I understand. There is such a party atmosphere and a huge sense of camaraderie. I start yapping to P. “I can't talk!” she puffs at me. Then we hit the killer hill.

My one and only expectation I had of myself was to run the whole way. Even if it meant I could get a faster time walking I still wanted to run it. People pulled their cars up into the park with music blasting to encourage us. Half way through the race I find myself running alongside a woman in her sixties and for awhile we ran together, matching step to step. Some sort of magical runners synergy takes place and when she pulled away ahead of me, I felt a better runner because of it. I hope anyone that runs with me leaves feeling the same way. I realise that any fears I have of competitiveness have been vanquished. I have never felt less competitive than when I running this race. I ran using everything I learned along the way mudras, meditations, mantras. Most of all I ran with joy and gratitude that I can.  A lone Bagpiper appeared on the trail at the final kilometre. Nova Scotia; the only place more Scottish than Scotland they say; it is true.

Seeing the finish line  my heart fills with joy and I remember how I always thought I would cross the finish line with a cartwheel, if I ever ran a race. Hopefully my children will get a kick out of it and it will distract them from the aforementioned trophy. I finish how I ran the whole race; running and smiling. I cross the finish line. I cartwheel.

I originally thought it was really important to me to have my family at the finish line, so at first it was mere surprise when they were not there. I took a few moments to reflect and realised that this is best possible way to finish my first race. Alone. Running has been a very spiritual, personal journey for me. It was meant to be. My husband can be absolved of any guilt. He wasn't at the finish line with kids because he did not imagine I could run it that fast. Still pissed the children missed the cartwheel though!

I do not feel that it is in the spirit of this blog to reveal my race time. However I appreciate the curiosity and interest so if you wish, look for Julia Morton in the Butter Trail 2012 race results. Some race photo can be found at Running with Spirit Facebook page.

P finished with a really inspiring time and should be proud of herself for her sheer bravery and guts. She is already trying to convince me to take part in another race in October. My original plan was to run one race a year. But there was one element of racing I did not expect; it is FUN. Will see.

Running with Ego

It's my Ego's fault. Absolutely. I have been doing such intense work on eradicating it that I was convinced my third eye was going to explode under the intense pressure I was generating in-between my eyebrows. My long suffering friend listened patiently to my concerns, before pointing out politely, it was more likely that the pain was from my sinus infection reoccurring. Who knows how long I would have gone spouting this disillusionment? When you delve this deep sometimes you need someone to shovel you out before you go cuckoo. Despite what people say, sometimes you really shouldn't listen to yourself.

Let's backtrack. My last post highlighted some personal issues amongst an awful lot of waffle. What exactly is my fear of racing? On a superficial level I could say it is crowds of people, but then I have been forced into many crowded situations and survived intact able to obtain a goal. Surely, if I am going to come up with an excuse I can manage a better one than that! And although I would be embarrassed about coming last, it is one I could live with it and one of my greatest faults is that I am very uninterested in worrying at what other people think of me. I'm usually too busy concerned with what I am thinking about myself. And this is the crux of the matter; inside of me is an egotistical maniac. It's like discovering you have been secretly possessed with a demon and avoiding any situation where it may rear it's head. A situation like a race.

A race provides the perfect conditions and breeding ground for the ego. The anticipation, drama, sacrifice, judgement, illusion, self doubt and belief. Or perhaps these are the perfect challenges to eradicate the ego. My fear is not based on racing other runners, but rather racing alongside the image I have created of myself in my mind and not winning.

So lately I have been very preoccupied with this image I have created of myself. I want to share something I read because it spoke directly to my ego and made it squirm. Uncomfortably.

“The Lower Self will feed the ego: the Higher Self has no ego. I was asked recently how one can tell what is the Lower Self and what is the Higher Self? This is not a difficult answer to give; the Lower Self creates illusion. It will have you believing the most preposterous things. It will have you believing you are not the guilty one when you are, and it will reason with you to try and get you to see its point of view. It will even argue with your Higher Self, and if you are not at a higher rate of vibration, your Higher Self will not be able to retaliate with truth.

The Lower Self never thinks of anything but itself. All it can see is its own pain, suffering, difficulty, how hard done by it is, how it is being punished and how people are hurting and creating problems for it. It can see all of the faults of others, but never its own faults! The Lower Self sees itself as perfect. It will argue with you to preserve its own truth. It can never see a positive outcome of any situation! The list is endless of what the Lower Self will do to reign supreme.

And what of the Higher Self, what does that do? It does nothing! Absolutely nothing! It does not have to justify itself. It will point out your own faults, but will never point out the faults of others. It sees the suffering one goes through and the difficulties as lessons, which one can learn from. It always has a positive outcome for every situation. It never judges, it sits quietly and lets the world pass by while it deals with issues, which need to be dealt with for its own higher good.”
- www.theego.org

It feels like an overwhelming, astronomic task attempting to exorcising this ego of mine. But for now, I just want to make sure when I am listening to myself, I am listening to the right part of myself.

To Race or Not to Race? THAT is the question.....

My Australian confinement is coming to an end this week and the back of my left knee is an unusual souvenir; a white tailed spider bite. Well, technically Incey Wincey bit me four times. I think it is karma for when I lived in the UK and secretly laughed at the people who couldn't hack visiting Australia because of all the “dangerous” animals. I lived, for the most part, in Australia for 17 years without a deadly spider, snake, jellyfish or shark incident. Ironically as a “tourist” I get the experience. The spider bite itself is not too bad, just like a particularly bad bee or wasp sting. But my left knee has become incredibly stiff and sore, at the worst extending to my hip joint. Evidently my running has come to a stand still.

I have taken this opportunity to reflect and re-evaluate. December I ran every day. January I did an hour and half of yoga everyday. February I did whatever I felt like until I became little Miss Muffet. One of the obstacles I am struggling with is my sense of achievement as a runner has different criteria to the status quo. Quite often I get asked, “How far did you run? How fast? It is how a runner asks “How are you?” At first I was embarrassed because I guess a “runner” would be able to answer these question. Now I just find it extremely irritating, because the people who are genuinely interested in my running journey know nothing is more demotivating to me than a discussion about speed, distance and pace.

There is a reason to my madness at why I have shunned the usual running paraphernalia. Quite early on I observed that people who run with this intention get all the gear (don't forget the fancy watch!) spend a good chunk of time fine tuning their ipod running play list, bore us all with updating their Facebook status with their running distances and times and then before you know it justify to everyone else why they are “too busy to run” The runner's equivalent to what Buddhists refer to as the “monkey mind”. The “real” runners who inspire me barely ever mention their running stats. Occasionally as they are gearing up to an important race they start following a training program but for the vast majority of their runs they simply run.

Simply running is not easy for a non runner. Instead of training sessions I think of my run as a gift to myself and to those I love. Instead of pace, I clearly state my sankalpha (intention) for the run. Rather than speed I focus on the state of my mind; how I feel before and after my run. I meditate on any changes that occurred while concentrating on my breath or grooving with a mantra. I aim to always finish my running practise with gratitude for whatever is important to me at the time. More relevant running statistics to me but the problem is they are not quantifiable, therefore mostly uninteresting to anyone other than myself. How does this attitude transfer into a racing environment?

In some ways I think I should race. I have this lofty idea of running a marathon one day and racing is the road of expectation. It's a bit like life where ideally there is a set pattern people expect you to follow; boy meets girl, engagement, wedding, baby. But not all lives run to this script and yet still manage a happy ending. A runner is expected to do 5km, 10km, Half Marathon, Marathon all within an allotted time frame following whatever running program is in vogue. But aren't there more ways than one to win a race? Does racing really matter? Back to my curds and whey.