Organising my meat suit

Julie at Shri Yoga has been saying all the right things for me.

This evening’s class was about integration. Activating the entire body in a pose. Flexing a foot in the air during a one-leg pose. Pulling in hips during triangle pose. You know, “organising your meat suit” as Julie put it, so that the breath flows through the body and the highest parts are awakened.

As I lay in shavasana, my mind wandered to the integration between my mind and body. There are certain times when I’m entirely cerebral and my body is forgotten, or can’t keep up. On the other hand, when I’m running, my body can seemingly scream at me. If my body is balanced, breath flows better. If my body and mind are balanced, positive life energy will flow better? I hope so.

Tonight was my second class with Julie. Last week she quoted her mentor, saying “Your attention is the strongest currency you can have.” Since then, I’ve been more conscious with my attention: how long I spend watching television, focusing on conversations with friends instead of multitasking, eating slowly.

I’m looking forward to her class next Tuesday. Thanks again to Anna to inviting me along with her to Shri.

Street corners of Sydney: 13 km in the city

Yesterday morning at 6:45 AM I ventured out into the harbour city to run. Recently I’ve switched my long run to Mondays instead of Sundays. There’s always so much to do on weekends and often not a lot of time to relax.
Given it’s winter in Australia, it should really come as no surprise that it is cold. Bundled (or as Aussies say, rugged up) I jogged along King St past the quirky shops, two dozen Thai eateries and the sprawling University of Sydney campus. The surrounding homes have seen better days.

I was slowly getting my stride on the sidewalks but I kept getting interrupted by streetlights. Here’s a sample of what I saw:

Running through Sydney suburbs, I felt a keen sense of familiarity, somewhere between Vancouver (for the hills and the harbour) and Shanghai (for the architecture and parks).
In the end, my last step fell about 4km from our B&B, which left me walking and very slowly running in intervals, anticipating fresh blood orange juice, corn fritters with avocado salsa and a shower.

Rain drops on cheeks

It was supposed to be an easy 5km after work. Swapping business casual for running gear, I mentally noted the rain outdoors, thinking “This is nothing on Vancouver downpours. I’m going for it.”

After sitting all day, I was keen to move regardless of the weather. Because of the rain, I left my iPhone at home, opting to listen to my inner voice(s). There were a few stanzas from old favourites like “Grown Ocean” by Fleet Foxes and “New Way Home” by Foo Fighters that would pass by me. I would try to slow my brain down, to remember note by note, but when I was focusing on breathing properly and clearing my eyes and cheeks of rain, that was a nearly impossible task.

As I ran my familiar route, there weren’t too many puddles and it wasn’t especially cold. The hardest part was being entirely wet. My clothes took on extra weight that I had to drag along, step by step, block by block. Maybe I burned more calories.

When I rounded the corner of somewhere around 3km, I came to realisation that I could have gone to the warm, dry gym and used the treadmill. But then I would have to listen to the club music and feel self conscious about my VPL (visible panty line). Instead, I trudged on in the rain, the thought of enjoying roasted acorn squash and Gorgonzola pizza for dinner a veritable carrot in front of this donkey. In the end, I made it. I peeled off my wet clothes and took refuge in a hot shower and the promise of pizza. Hopefully Thursday will bring sunshine.

Against the wind

My first 8 km run in months started in the rain at the fish market. It was Sunday morning. After a lazy omelette, flat white and read of Monocle, I felt ready to run.

The plan was to follow the Bluewater Trail which skirts the periphery of Mackay, avoiding both traffic and traffic lights. The first couple of kilometres were difficult. The bitumen (Aussie for semi-paved road) was uneven, my breathing was erratic and my legs felt heavy. As soon as I descended the bridge from the Canelands parking lot into the marshlands, my body eased up and I started enjoying myself.

I listening to a new playlist during my run, changing my holding hand with each kilometre. “Love this” by Cosmo Jarvis really resonates with me at the moment, especially one line:

If I believe in heaven I deny myself a death. Dying keeps me conscious of the way I waste my breath.

To fit in all 8 kilometres, I left the trail and ran alongside cane fields against a strong wind, which was both cooling and challenging. For those of you who have been privy to my taste in classic rock, you’ll know I’m a massive fan of Bob Seger, especially his 1994 Greatest Hits album. I churned out those last steps, mentally singing  “I was living to run and running to live, never worryied about paying or even how much I owed.”

When Endomendo told my I reached my goal of 8km, I felt strong. I’ll run one more Sunday 8km in my training plan before increasing the distance. I’m looking forward to it.

On the road again

I’ve been running regularly for six years and started competing four years ago. I’m not exactly the most coordinated of athletes and team-sports often made me nervous, so running was a good fit.

I ran my first half-marathon on May 3 2009. I was on a roll. I had just shaved my head as a fund-raiser for cancer research and I was finishing 16 months of co-op work terms, returning to complete my degree in Honours English. Nothing could stop me.

What you can’t see is that my hands are full of bananas.

I’m an ideas person. I love the idea of running half-marathons, of training, of being tiny and taught. I’ve begun training plans and even registered for multiple half-marathons since. I successfully completed two others, but the number I registered for and didn’t attend is a bit seriously embarrassing. I would start training and fall victim to a sinus infection. Or I would feel overwhelmingly busy with work and school. Or feel too cold to get out of bed in the morning to run.

Now I work Monday to Friday 8-5. I have time and motivation to train. To everyone who reads this blog, I am committing to you and to myself: I’m going to run the 28km Whitsunday Great Walk on Saturday September 23.

I recently finished reading What I Talk About When I Talk about Running by Haruki Murakami, which was inspiring. A few parts have stuck with me, including ‘Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional’ and the following quote:

Your quality of experience is based not on standards such as time or ranking, but on finally awakening to an awareness of the fluidity within action itself.

New tools are in my kit, including the Endomondo app for my iPhone and a plan from the latest issue of Runner’s World. I started the training plan two weeks ago but had to take a couple days off because of the flu, so I started again today after work with an easy 5km. It’s the perfect running weather in Mackay right now: crisp, cool and sunny. 8 km is coming up this weekend, which is the longest distance I’ve run since September 2011. It’s going to be epic.