I got great final advice from my coach, John Henwood, yesterday. In fact, it’s the same advice he’s given me for years. But this year, I think I’m ready to really heed it: Keep to your goal pace. Don’t let yourself speed up. And what if you find yourself running too fast? Slow down (duh). Easier said than done.
I took two days off from work to rest up – and I’m already stir crazy. I’ve checked the hourly forecast, I’ve pinned my bib on my shirt, I’ve lined up my GUs and my UCAN. I’ve checked my work email several times (and it’s only 8:40 am). I’ve done the crossword puzzle.
Now what?
Now it’s time to remind myself that every run is another adventure. That’s all. It’s not my profession and, despite my type A tendencies, it doesn’t go on my “permanent record” (whatever that is) any more than the sweet potato I ate for dinner last night. Except, of course in the spiritual sense that everything we do, everything we think, every intention is a cause. And every cause generates an effect. The effect of running? Happiness. Health. An evocation of simplicity, of being part of nature, one of the many species in the park. Raccoons, hawks, sparrows, cardinals, dogs, cats, humans, ferrets, squirrels.
That’s the part I like the best. And the sensation of running – when it’s going well and my gait feels smooth and unfettered. I used to feel the same way about singing and, less frequently, about playing classical guitar. Those moments that Otto Scharmer of MIT describes as “presencing.” He defines it as “a movement where we approach ourselves from the emerging future.”
Lapse in the Mainstream 