Letting go... a 'running' commentary.

Today the journey took another turn. I let go of the story.

This seems to be a theme: "let go". I spent so much time wondering what it meant when everyone said "let go". I think I understand now. More on this later; first, a little background to set the stage.

Today I had a coaching lesson in ChiRunning. It is a running style which has obtained attention in the athletic world and on the media (it was featured on NPR) because it's supposed to be easier on the joints; running is notoriously hard on muscles and joints. The most interesting aspect is that its creator based ChiRunning on principles of Tai Chi, a martial art which focuses on awareness principles.

I have become interested in running since early 2006. Most of the reasons were based on my proximity to someone special to me training in running, but I admit that being near trail runners was a surprisingly joyful and vibrant experience. I talked, listened and participated in their excited natures, their happiness even in difficult weather conditions, and the flushed laughing qualities of the adventure they were carving for themselves. Reading books and being in that world was a new experience for me, beyong my own past history as a sprinter. Outdoor running might be something which would bring me closer to my own nature: exploring life at life's horizon.

My issue: my body.
"Fit" as I looked, I had pain upon running more than 10 minutes. In fact, I had pain walking more than 45 minutes. The pain was real, and it affected me from the hips to knees to my feet: 30 years of pain. Not only did I run wrong, but my body issues gave me a perfect excuse not to run. My mind instantly created "stories" about my pain and pathologies for a long time. Mostly I didn't do what caused me pain; otherwise, I learned the fancy names of the issues and I was happy with myself that I had the answers all sewn up. Once again, I had the "stories" memorized, and they fit the answers I was prepared to give myself.

Two things major changed my "story" about my body:

1) I read an article in Men's Health whereupon a running coach explain that people can be taught out of their bad running form so they can run well... and

2) I started with Buddhism classes -- and other spiritual teachings.

Running and Buddhism: who'd have thought they combined... well, maybe the inventor of ChiRunning was onto something there also.

How does Buddhism play into the story? That's exactly the point: Buddhism teaches one NOT to play into "the story". I've been attending classes from the Insight Meditation Community of Washington. To make a long story short, this style of Buddhism encourages 'being aware' and 'being present in the moment'. The teaching center around life being a journey, and the journey may not always be "happy" every moment, but it's still a vibrant, visceral, 'alive' path. Most people who think of Buddhism may also think of constant meditation by monks. While meditation is encouraged, it's not a demand; it doesn't have to be hours or days - and certainly meditation can be for regular people, not just monks. Meditation is simply the vehicle to "be in the present moment": to touch our feelings and/or learn how to not take things so seriously.

It is these teachings which describe one important theme: our thoughts are just thoughts, they aren't real. If they aren't 'real', then we can create our own lives simply by changing our thoughts about a situation. Even more deeply, we don't have to have concrete 'thoughts' about anything: we can instead cultivate an open mind. The Zen [Buddhist] tradition calls this "beginner's mind": the state of accepting and being curious, instead of closed-minded to any thought but our own.

In a nutshell, Buddhism encourages us to "drop the story" and to face life right now.

Did I lose the ChiRunning in this blog? No, it's still here...

So while having my value that I wanted to pursue running, I continued investigating my options: having a beginner's mind about running. I started learning about running methods. I studied up on my own physiology, and did what could to help my physiological problems. (Translated: I sought orthotics for my shoes to help my legs and feet). In short, I dropped "my story" about running and tried to make solutions. One of those solutions was investigating ChiRunning. I bought the book. I also decided to invest some Christmas money into myself - a found someone local who teaches ChiRunning. I'm a hands-on person, and I like the interactivity of an in-person session; a book can answer most questions, but the 3-D instructor can breathe life into a 2-D concept.

I couldn't wait. I felt like something was going to break wide open.

Today I met with ChiRunning coach Bryan Hantman from Catonsville, MD: a yoga and spinning instructor, he also runs and does triathlons. It was very comforting to know that his experience in both Eastern and Western movements could be combined so well: clearly, he understood the body and its abilities.

I had come to my lesson well-prepared: I read the ChiRunning book and had already been practicing a few [stationary] exercises. I was familiar with the concepts and goals, but hadn't yet seen anyone run in this style. Bryan started the session by working with my understanding of ChiRunning and listening to my body issues. Then immediately he said, "I think you have been living with your muscles pulling your bones out of alignment. Sure, you may have structural problems, but they can be worked WITH, not feared AGAINST. If you do the exercises ChiRunning assigns, maybe you won't have running or walking pain any more. But the exercises will feel strange for a while, as your muscles learn how to finally work well. You'll be practicing these exercises when you walk, when you stand, and when you run. You will create a new muscular structure: one that uses your bones and your muscles correctly..."

Immediately I saw something interesting in his discussion: I had been holding onto "the story" of what my body could do. I had felt pain, even watched my poor gait, and thought that I was destined to live this way. I walked like a sumo wrestler and my hips were tight: I was prepared to live this way, accepting the pain and living in compassion with my physiological plight.

In one session, my new running coach told me gave me permission to let go of my story, and to try a new way.

I admit, this isn't easy. My entire body has been working poorly for possibly 30 years (I'm 43); never learning how to run correctly even in high school track, I simply made up my own muscle use. They call this 'the natural stride': a coach interviewed in the Men's Health article who explained that no one has to suffer with their own natural stride. Old dogs CAN learn new tricks. The dog simply has to let go of the old trick to accept the new trick.

Without going into the physiological minutia, I'll just say that I have to retrain every muscle south of my ribs: my lower abs, entire hips, adductors (inside thighs), knees, lower legs, ankles, and feet. My legs have been trying to hold onto their identity for 43 years; the identity of a certain walk, run, and stand. My legs, however, have been WRONG.

And I am entirely grateful to learn how wrong I have been... because I get to "let go" of my legs' "story" and create a new journey -- a journey which may include running outdoors, maybe on a fun trail with fun people doing a wild vibrant adventure.

The running is just one method; the lesson with Bryan was simply a metaphor, ChiRunning was simply one path. The most important aspect was that I've learned that although my thoughts were 'true' (yes, I did have real pain in my legs), I didn't have to stay that way. I could keep seeking a new solution, a solution with followed my values.

I'm excited to be so wrong.

Buddhism --which is a path, not really a 'religion'-- simply describes that we need to wake up: to be aware, to be 'in the present moment', and that living begins when we shake off the fog. ("Buddha" actually means "awake") We can stop telling ourselves stories. There don't have to stay with myths, stories, habits, or 'rules'. Sure, the journey may be a little rocky (for example, I have to train my entire lower body) but the outcome eventually will be facing living. We can make a new story - a story which may be more truthful - or even that we can yet again shake off one day. We can let go. We can start again. It's possible: life can begin anew, at any moment.

My friend "Iron Wil" (her blogging name, of her mythical superhero Wilhemina) says she is learning 'not to think' anymore. Perhaps 'thinking' is part of telling our own stories over and over. We tell ourselves how we are bad --- or we tell ourselves how others are bad. We find living in a story is easier than letting it go, and walking (running?) into the freefall of 'right now'. We often stop living in the present because the old stories are comfortingly familiar: even the difficult ones.

...but most often, we outgrow our old stories. The old stories were the balm that helped explain so many things: the old stories kept us from doing the really hard work of retraining our muscles -- or getting frightening close to our loved ones. The old stories kept us in the box, and the box was comforting.

The hard part is, that the box doesn't fit after a while. Maybe it never fit, maybe it was only a momentary fit. We just had the habit of fitting into the box: we fit ourselves into those old stories.

But we can live more vibrantly:
We can live in the present and dig deeper: to erase the story and see if we can retrain our lives, like I have to retrain my muscles from almost 43 years of ineffective use.

It's time to wake up our bodies, our spirits and our lives --- we can 'let go' at any minute. We simply have to know that 'letting go' is possible... and we just might find a new life when we do. Everything in our lives can "wake up". We don't ever have to be the same in any situation, with any person, in any activity.

Every day -- every minute --can be New Year's Day: new beginnings. We just have to give ourselves permission to drop the story. We can learn to let go.

Meanwhile, I'll be around --learning how to walk (and run) again. I am thrilled.