Monday, May 28, 2007

Blue Sky Mind

An interesting turn in my running happened when I was in Mexico. I didn't run. At first assessment of the narrow beach and soft sloped sands, I knew it wasn't good terrain for my ankles. The only other option was a narrow dirt road leading into town which offered the hot, Mexican sun; fast-moving, heavy trucks kicking up dust and sputtering diesel exhaust; and no breezy relief from the sea. Plus, there was a week's worth of yoga classes, beach walks and ocean swimming before me. So I decided a week off from running might actually be a good thing. While the part of me that is hardest on myself felt pressure and even a little guilt taking time off from my training, another part of me was relieved by my choice to live these next few days as fully as possible by not pushing -- and letting myself just be.

I chose not to drink coffee, not to have alcohol, and to enjoy the colorful vegetarian diet offered by the resort -- yogurt, granola, bananas, mangos, pineapple, hibiscus juice, French toast, jasmine and mint teas, cucumber salad, pico de gallo, queso fresco, guacamole, grains, banana leaf wrapped packets, fried tacos, and delightful desserts. My life was immediately simplified by not having to prepare meals or wear shoes. I slept under mosquito netting with the most amazing sea breeze rushing in the cabana all night long, carrying its sound with the sound of the ocean waves. Because of the 2-hour time difference, I was able to wake each morning before the sunrise and watch the pelicans and fisherman as the sun peeked over the jetty. I became aware of everything I was living without and felt burdens slipping off my back one by one. No work stress, none of my boyfriend's stress, no cat bowls. And on the beach at night, you could see all the stars.


Through meditation practice at 7 AM, 3-hour yoga practice, time to think and relax and play on the beach, evening lectures, fabulous people, fire circles and salsa dancing, I reconnected with parts of myself I had lost touch with. I was quiet enough to hear things I never heard before. And above all, I learned that I need to be light.


Since coming home, I've returned to running for the pure joy of it. I withdrew my application for the New York City Marathon, and have become focused on finding more quiet space in my life. I'm still a runner - just a gentler one a the moment. And one with a blue sky mind.