Running in 91F Can Cause Temporary Insanity…

Two and a half miles into my four mile run in the 91 degree weather, I pulled back my pace to conserve energy and switched to a light jog, planning to amp it back up once I reached shadier grounds; the sun relentlessly beat down on me with no branches or shadows to blunt its power. At my slower rate, a car passed me by as I momentarily locked eyes with the driver. Instinctively, I created a back-story in my mind and concluded that he had been unimpressed at the slowness of my movement. I found I was mentally defending myself against this make-believe judgment, spewing back that I had run the first two miles at a much faster roll and fully intended to add some sprints at the last stretch. How dare he judge my less than optimal pace? How dare he assume I was a slow runner? The car was miles away by then.

Growing up, I was conditioned by constant feedback, both negative and positive, to gauge how well or poorly I was doing. Grades, piano recitals, play performances, art pieces… all meaningless until after I was told how wonderful or atrocious they were.  I developed a need for validation of my efforts, otherwise, they were pointless. Like any other habit picked up as a child, it was hard to unlearn and un-need validation for my hard work, but it had to be done in order to live a happy life and have healthy, non-codependent relationships.  

Running, lifting, sweating, changing my body and improving my fitness are all personal efforts of mine. I put in a lot of time, energy and all around hard work in to myself in order to practice what I preach and be the best possible version of me. These things are my own- not in competition with anyone (but myself) and not to impress anybody (but myself… sometimes!). If I shave a rep off of a set or knock a mile off of a run I know I can complete, I am only cheating myself out of my own personal goals. I’ve come to know my body. I know my personal bests… how much I was able to lift the last time… how far and fast I ran the time before (and I’ll be damned if this time I don’t match or break those records!). I need no one to tell me how hard I’m working and need no recognition as to if my workout was a success or not. I am my most honest, informed, and accurate critic and I need no one’s validation to confirm or tell me otherwise!

Old habits die hard. Sometimes they creep back when least expected and manifest in the most odd of ways. I ended the mental argument I had been having between the random driver-by and myself, swearing it must have been partially fueled by the sweltering heat. How silly I had been, giving any weight to the opinion of a man that was most likely just checking out to see if I had huge knockers (which I most certainly don’t… sorry to disappoint, sir). After regaining sense (and sanity), I picked my pace back up once out of the unshaded stretch of road and ended my run with a few interval sprints. As I took a lap around the driveway, I felt the endorphins flooding through my body and I relished in the wonders of “runner’s high.” Ahh… yes, that’s right… after the miles have been logged and the time has been checked, that immeasurable feeling right there that only I can experience? That’s what it’s all really about.

The Silent Language of Runners

The warmth from the sun being tempered by a slightly cooler breeze coaxed a pair of running sneakers on to my feet, sending me on an outdoors jog, despite the fact I had deemed it a “rest day” for my muscles to recover. Taking it at an easy pace, I paid no mind to the time or my miles-per-hour. This run wasn’t about athleticism or personal records- it was about feeling the earthbeneath my feet and enjoying nature’s gift of a perfect summer day.

There is an unspoken set of mannerisms among the running community. A slight nod of the head or wave of the hand is normal as paths are crossed. It’s a polite, subtle recognition of a mutual love for pavement pounding. Sometimes, it serves as a nonverbal “hey, I feel your pain” if the weather is challengingly extreme or a hill seems to be at a 180 degree angle. It’s like being in a club with a secret handshake and all it takes to become a member is to place one foot in front of the other and repeat.

I rounded the second to last turn on my usual route and saw a man with grayed hair, wearing multicolored spandex running gear and a dark pair of athletic sunglasses in the distance, running towards me. He seemed to be in his late fifties or early sixties, but in great physical condition, nonetheless. I gave him a quick wave of acknowledgement.

As I came around the final half-mile marker bend, trudging along at my casual pace, I saw the same man out of the corner of my eye, gradually gaining headway on me. Out of admiration of his conditioning (and partially due to my competitive nature), I picked up my pace, just enough to steadily keep a few feet behind him. I remained on the uneven sidewalk as he opted for the flat roadway’s shoulder.

There are two baby hills within the last quarter mile that I usually sprint, fueled by a runner’s high that never fails to push me through. As I revved myself in to full speed, I passed my unofficial running partner, ending my run at the top of the driveway accross the street, panting for air, feeling accomplished. Turning my gaze towards the man, we caught eachother’s attention as he gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up and I smiled through my gasps, shouting “thank you!” knowing that he knew I was grateful for the extra motivational mental push he provided me.

As I crossed the street, I realized that the man was actually my neighbor. I watched him turn in to the driveway that I had used as my finish line for years. All this time, I lived across the way from a fellow runner that ended up being a source of motivation for the end of my run. On any other day, that man would just be a fellow road-runner that understood the unspoken runners’ launguage.  I smiled to myself as I realized that motivation and inspiration can come from anywhere- even from the neighbor accross the way that I had never once introduced myself to.

Simply Happy

Graced by another gorgeously sunny day, I hiked up to a breathtaking lookout point, sat on a rocky flat for an hour and a half in great company, talking and laughing as we watched tiny lizards chase each other and other hikers come and go. It was a near perfect Sunday, beginning with my favorite group fitness combat class followed by an afternoon hike at a reservation I used to frequent as a child. I left my cellphone in the car, bringing only my keys with me- I really needed nothing else. The simplicity of great conversation (that left my cheeks sore from constant smiling), stopping to scratch behind the ears of dogs (whose wagging tails hinted that they were as happy I was to be out in the sun), and a sturdy pair of sneakers (that I had found at a phenomenal price that made even my frugal mother proud), reminded me of just how little it takes to be truly happy.

In keeping with the simplicity of today and yesterday’s posts (and in an effort to get to bed for my full 8-hours), I will cut this post short, as I am content with the  absolute in-complexity of simple happiness. Before technology, expensive “stuff,” and the myriad of things meant to “enrich” our lives, all we had was the company of others and the beautiful world around us. Every person has the tools and capabilities to be happy… it just, then, becomes a matter of choice to embrace the right to enjoy that happiness. :)

SMILE! :D

Sniffing Flowers

Spring time paints nature’s canvas with vibrant colors of blossoms, awakened plants and revived leaves. As I walked Biscuit this morning, I took a valuable lesson from her. At first, I got slightly annoyed that she would stop every five steps to explore a new scent or unmarked territory. I tugged at the leash, trying to get her to continue forward, but she persistently diverted her attention away from the path. “Come on Biscuit!” I half-heartedly scolded at her, to which she gazed up at me with big brown eyes that begged, “Mom.. slow down. Sniff the roses with me.”

Just because I am human- allegedly the superior species, does not mean that lessons from dogs and nature are invalid. This morning, my dog directed my attention to what became today’s Mind-Body Gratitude topic: flowers.

As silly as it may sound to be thankful for flowers, just like anything else in this world, they offer a lesson to be learned upon close enough examination. Sure, like many others, I love receiving a bouquet of fragrant blooms or a single, pristine, long stemmed red rose, but my focus today is on the less obvious beauty of flowers; today, I celebrate their effortlessness.

I walked past a sprinkling of tiny periwinkle flowers that has sprung from the sidewalk. Regarded as weeds, these gorgeous petaled growths needed no man-made fertilizer, trimming, nor any other form of fuss, yet their beauty was unmistakable.

In a beauty obsessed society, men and women pluck, snip, paint, spray and suture in pursuit of a perceived perfect appearance. So much effort goes in to looking and feeling one’s best that the simple answers are often thrown by the way side. With the proper self-care and inward compassion, each person’s beauty can shine through. The flower instinctively grows towards the sun, knowing that it is a basic need in order to thrive.

True, in this day and age, it is more difficult to live the simple life. The pressures of finance, illness and hardship strains the ability to  metaphorically turn to the sun, allowing health to find us. What we can do, however, is take a hint from the simplicity of an effortlessly vibrant flower, and do the things that we instinctively know are good for our health: eat wholesome foods, get adequate rest, drink plenty of water, move around more, laugh and play. These are the makings of human livelihood. These are the simple keys to optimal health and happiness. Allow your body to accept the benefits of these primal needs. Stop tugging at your own leash and let your body tell you what it needs. The most beautiful things in life cannot be forced- they can, however, be allowed to just happen.