Training Day 34 of 71: Sukha and Duhkha

Friday night when I was preparing the apartment to host book club I had an unfortunate accident. As Dylan helped me lug my love seat down the stairs, I lost grip and dropped a corner of it on my big toe. The sharp jab of pain took my breath and watered my eyes and I suddenly felt dehydrated. That always happens when I experience pain, I suddenly feel so thirsty. I put a bag of frozen peas on the toe and sat there for a while wondering how it would effect my training. I was supposed to run 14 miles the next day.

The following morning the toe was swollen and bruised. I was privately relieved that I had a good excuse not to go running because same as last week, I was sort of dreading it and afraid what it would do to me. Instead I went over to my friend Carrie's and we did some gentle yoga and ate sushi and painted our nails and did art projects and went to Venice for a crawfish boil party where people were getting tattoos in the garage and local bands were playing in the back yard. As I stood there swaying to the music I began to feel annoyed at my wimpiness. Did I think marathon running was going to be easy? No. That's why I wanted to do it. Because I knew it would be a challenge for my body and mind. Because I wanted to see if I could overcome that challenge. It may be hard and uncomfortable to do the actually running, but the feeling of pleasure and satisfaction that comes with it is so worth it. So I told my toe that it'd have to get it together for the next morning.

Sunday morning came and I was up to the challenge (see photo of toe taken Sunday morning). I planned a 4.5 mile loop right near my apartment that I would do 3 times (plus a few extra blocks) to add up to 14 miles. It was about 10:30AM when I got out there and the sun was no joke. But I did it. Around and around I went. Past people eating brunch and little shih-tzus on leashes. I bought a cup of lemonade from some kids on a corner and gulped it down, then felt it coming back up a couple miles later. I just thought, if I keep going, eventually this will be over and the discomfort I feel now will turn into satisfaction. And so it did.

I'd like to look at three different yoga sutras in terms of the experience of taking on the long run. In Chip Hartranft's translation sutra 2.6 reads, "The sense of 'I' ascribes selfhood to pure awareness by identifying it with the senses." Sutra 2.7 reads, "Attachment is a residue of pleasant experience." Sutra 2.8 reads, "Aversion is a residue of suffering." Sukha is pleasure, Duhkha is pain, and the point of these three sutras is to illuminate how the mind affirms its sense of identity through clinging to pleasurable experiences and avoiding painful ones. In Yogic philosophy both the attachment to sukha (pleasure) and the aversion of duhkha (pain) keep you bound to a limited and incomplete version of yourself. Instead of stepping back and welcoming all into the experience of our isness (for lack of a better word) we are constantly trying to edit our lives in the image of pleasure and in avoidance of pain. Which ultimately keeps us bound in this identity, or "ego" as it's often called. And as long as we are bound to the ego's idea of happiness, we cannot access the harmony and peace that exists beneath the ripples of daily life.

In Sri Swami Satchidananda's translation of the sutras he explains, "In this world, all experiences that come from outside through the world, through nature or material things, are ultimately painful. None can give everlasting happiness. They may give temporary pleasure, but they always end in pain. Even the enjoyment of our present pleasures is usually painful because we fear its loss." So basically, instead of plucking the pretty flower as we pass by, maybe just let it be. Instead of trying to recreate the perfect date, maybe simply let it slide into the past. Instead of trying to patch up our pain with pleasures, maybe just witness the whole operation. Because really, it's all just time passing. That's what I was thinking about on Sunday around mile 10. I was thinking, in an hour all this will be over. Whether I finish it or not. So I may as well finish it, because what else am I doing? You know?

Training Days 31, 32 & 33 of 71: Terrified Fearfulness

Saturday morning I had to run 12 miles. I was feeling a little sniffly toward the end of last week and as Saturday loomed, I noticed mounting anxiety about the run. I was becoming obsessive about getting enough sleep, feeling that if I didn't I might not have the stamina to pull it off. Then of course I was awoken by the sound of leaf-blowers in the McDonalds parking lot across the wall from our building at 7am. I jumped out of bed and raced from one window to the next until I found the source of the noise, but I knew it would be futile to march around the block and let them know how enraged I was - and would likely make it impossible to get any more sleep. So I put a pillow on my head and got another fitful hour and a half. Then when I woke up for real, the fear was even worse.

I have felt anxiety in my training before, a kind of nagging concern that I will not be able to complete a run, but this was the first time that I felt genuinely terrified about the challenge ahead. I think the fact that I had unsuccessfully attempted the 12 mile run in NYC exacerbated this fear even more. By the time I had my shoes tied and was strapping on my fuel belt I was practically quivering. Not only was I afraid, I was becoming angry. Dylan tried to be lighthearted but instead of a pleasant "goodbye" I declared: "I'm really fucked up about doing this run right now but I don't want to talk about so I'm just going to go!" and Dylan said "Okay, go..." so I did.

Once I was out jogging I felt immediately better. I think the fact of taking action took the emphasis off the fear. No longer was I living in anticipation, I was instead just finding out what would happen. I had planned a route that took me up to the top of Mount Olympus, then East until I connected with Nichols Canyon where I would cut up to Mullholand Drive, then down Runyon Canyon and back home. I did not look at the elevation on the map and after a very steep slow jog to the top of Mount Olympus, I found myself going quickly downhill again.

This was a major bummer because I knew I'd have to get back up to the top of Runyon Canyon. So after a sad, fast descent, I started winding my way back up Nichols Canyon. The good thing was that there were a lot of fresh smelling bushes which invigorated me a little bit. Then when I finally was reaching the top I took a wrong turn and wound up jogging about a mile out of the way before I reached the top entrance of Runyon Canyon. Pretty much all of Hollywood was trudging up and down the dusty trails with pricey looking sunglasses and impractical fashion statements (such as warm winter hats in the blazing midday sun). Finally I made it down to the bottom and wobbled back home - motivated only by fantasies of the diluted orange juice that awaited my return. After a big glass full I got into the tub, elevated my legs against the tiles, and lay there like a dead dog.

Since Saturday's run I have been pondering that incredible experience of fear and how it relates to all else in life. The main thing that it makes me think is just that the only way we can conquer a fear is to face it head-on. The only way my fear of the 12 miles (which became 13 with my detour) could be transcended, was through just doing it. Great Indian philosopher Krishnamurti says in his book The First and Last Freedom, "To resist, to dominate, to do battle with a problem or to build a defense against it is only to create further conflict, whereas if we can understand fear, go into it fully step by step, explore the whole content of it, then fear will never return in any form." I like this quote about fear because it translates so literally to running: "go into it fully step by step" is precisely what I had to do Saturday. And once all those steps had been taken I was back home, 13 miles later, feeling amazingly accomplished (and exhausted).

Much of yoga asana practice is all about this as well. Each challenging pose is an opportunity to explore your fear. Not to just assume it's real, but to find out, through experience, whether it is a literal danger or just a figment of your imagination. And of course this relates completely to human interactions as well, but I think this post has gone on long enough.

Training Day 30 of 71: Treasure Hunt

Woohoo! It's hot in the city! Today I woke up at the very early hour of 7:30 to attempt to run at a cooler time, but didn't make it out there until 9:30 and it was hot! Six miles round trip - up to Laurel Canyon, around some winding little streets, down past Chateau Marmont where the gardener was kind enough to spray me with the hose, then back home. Although the air was a little warmer than I'd prefer, I found so many treasures on my run that it was quite enjoyable.

First I found a low black bedside table with wheels on it right outside our apartment. So I halted the run to take it inside. Dylan was very pleased. Then when I was almost to Sunset I found the cutest little troll desk with a drawer. But it was too big to do anything with. So I just hoped it wouldn't be taken by the time I could drive back after my run. Then on the way home I came across a sweet little plant stand. It was pretty light so I tried to run carrying it, but that was terribly awkward so I wound up hiding it behind the wall outside an abandoned house and then came back for it in the car (see photo of plant stand and abandoned house above). Unfortunately the troll table was gone. But two out of three is pretty good.

All this treasure hunting while running made me ponder what about yoga is like treasure hunting? Then I thought of one of my favorite sutras, 1.41: "Just as the naturally pure crystal assumes shapes and colors of objects placed near it, so the Yogi's mind, with its totally weakened modifications, becomes clear and balanced and attains the state devoid of differentiation between knower, knowable and knowledge. This culmination of meditation is samadhi." Basically, the fully realized Yogi no longer perceives him/herself as separate from anything else. No longer does the Yogi think of him/herself as an individual that is distinct from the occurrences or objects around. Instead they perceive them self as a one with the continuum of phenomena that make up the images and stories of life. This is considered "meditation" because in yoga meditation is the experience of merging the individual self with the exterior world and ultimately realizing that there is no such thing as a separate self.

Sarah Powers touches on this idea of transcending the individual self in her book Insight Yoga, "The Buddha suggested that we contemplate how nothing in the manifest universe exists in isolation as an independent identity. He described reality as a confluence of interdependent coarisings, empty of permanence. This lack of an independent self-nature is called selflessness". In yogic philosophy, if you can transcend your concept of yourself as separate from the rest of the world, you can attain samadhi: "A state in which the aspirant is one with the object of his meditation, the supreme spirit pervading the universe, where there is a feeling of unutterable joy and peace" (Light on Yoga by B.K.S. Iyengar).

Phew! Those are a lot of ideas to cram into this one blog post. But somehow the treasures on my run made me think of the crystal from sutra 1.41 - the image of the mind becoming like a naturally pure crystal that assumes the shapes and colors of that which is placed near it. Perhaps tomorrow during my run I will consider the possibility that I can assume the shape, color, and feel of the trees I pass by, the concrete beneath me, the humans I encounter, and the warm breeze that surrounds. And through that merging with the seemingly external environment perhaps access unutterable joy and peace? Maybe? Just a little?

Training Days 25, 26, 27, 28 & 29 of 71: Rest

I returned from New York Sunday night after a long 10 days of slogging around the city. It was very good to see friends and family but it was also so exhausting. Even if my knee were feeling good, I don't know if I would have been able to continue my training there. Between the late night glasses of wine, long subway rides, and early morning construction I barely had the energy to keep up with my social engagements. I didn't even take one yoga class the whole time I was there. And throughout days 25, 26, 27, and 28 of training my running shoes were left untouched in an old plastic Gap bag in a corner of the closet.

The good news is that my knee is completely healed and this morning when I took off down Orange Street in the bright sunshine for my scheduled three miles I was fully invigorated. I didn't even bother tempering my speed. It felt so good to be running that I went as fast as I wanted, which was much faster than my usual plod. So many things have happened over the last week that it is hard to choose which topic to write about, but I think the one pulling at me most is just this idea of allowing yourself to stop.

Life as most of us live it is so very tiring. In order to keep striving toward our goals, the goals that will make our life "better" or more "secure", we drive ourselves forward with little room for rest. We feel that we must make each moment more productive than the last. We must check more and more things off the to-do list. However, this hyper-productivity is actually quite taxing on the body and ultimately undermines the end goal. A balanced yoga practice includes both energetic/heat-building/strengthening asanas and also relaxing/releasing/restful poses. If you do not include restful practices, the body cannot recuperate and instead of getting stronger and stronger, it starts to break down. Quite often this is when injury happens. Then of course, if you continue to push through the injury, it only gets worse and can even become chronic.

So I guess my main thought here is that we must take the time in our daily lives to consciously rest from the constant activity. We must discipline ourselves to slow down just as we discipline ourselves to do our work. We have to create the space to just be. By doing so we allow our internal organs and immune system to function better, we allow our muscles to heal and become stronger, we allow our minds to stop clinging and really experience the world around us. We become more compassionate and understanding. And we become more efficient when we do return to the work of life. I don't think that stopping and resting is a luxury, I think it is a necessity. I don't think it is an ideal, I think it is each of our responsibility to ourselves and to the world at large. If we cannot find balance and equilibrium within, how can we ever expect it to come to be on this rapidly changing planet?

Hyper-productivity has become an epidemic in our culture. I hope for you and for myself to find a little space to breathe in coming days - some time to get absolutely nothing done. I'm grateful to my knee for giving my whole body a good excuse to rest. It made getting back out there so much more enjoyable this bright sunny morning.

Training Day 24 of 71: Breakdown

I am now writing from Lincoln Center in New York City. I am here to visit my family and friends for 10 days and I was looking forward to some springtime Manhattan training. However, things are really not going as planned.

About a week and a half ago something funky happened to my left knee. I'm not sure what. It didn't seem to occur during yoga or during a training run. I actually think it happened when I was experimenting with some ChiRunning warm-up exercises that are based on T'ai Chi. I have a feeling that I swung the knee in a direction it was not meant to go, and the result has been a sort of dull ache. I thought this dull ache would subside, but when it hadn't by Friday (which was my scheduled 12 mile run), I decided to push the run to this Monday to give the knee ample time to rest. This meant no heavy yoga and no running for a total of four days.

So today I put on my leggings and my sneaks and my fuel belt and visor and made my way to 66th and Central Park West, then began trotting south. The idea was to run the perimeter of the park once, and then run the inner perimeter on Central Park Drive. I jogged by tourists and people in suits on their lunch breaks. Jogged by the horses that pull the Handsome Cabs. Jogged by construction workers and hot dog stand guys. As I was jogging along I was definitely feeling the ache in the inner knee. I was thinking that if I just made myself run evenly, instead of with the slight limp that was emerging, I would be able to transcend the ache. But then I saw other people running by and they did not seem to be trying to avoid a limp. They seemed to be quite free in their stride. Rule #1 with knees in yoga is If it feels weird or uncomfortable, stop doing it. In the land of yoga the knees are considered too fragile to mess around with and a lot of the reason that teachers instruct to flex the foot in different positions is to protect the fragile knee joint. So I made it to Central Park East and 64th Street and decided to call it quits.

I walked back through the park, past the petting zoo, past the skating rink, past various boulders with small groups lounging on them, past a couple saxophone players. As I walked I felt sad and disappointed. I really wanted to be writing this blog about having just run 12 miles. I really didn't want to fall off my training schedule. But that doesn't change the state of the knee. In yoga we try to accept and work with what is REALLY going on, not what we wish were happening. So, I accept. I will not run again until the knee is no longer bothering me. I hope this is very soon.

Training Days 22 & 23: Future Pain

These past couple days of training have been pretty good. Yesterday I jogged 5 miles through the mansion-y part of Beverly Hills where I had the opportunity to enjoy lots of fresh oxygen from the lush gardens around various gated homes. Then I biked to Kate's Flow class at Liberation, then later went to Luminous Tuesdays class at Shakti Box with Trinity. So, lots of physical activity yesterday. Today was just a simple 3 miles up and back on La Jolla. The main issue over these 2 days is a feeling of fear and dread that something might go wrong.

I seem to be sleeping in later and later each day so my jogs usually happen around 9 or 10AM. By this time the day is well underway and the sun is bright. However, since it's winter in LA, it is still cool enough to jog at this time. But as I was running along today I kept thinking "what if it wasn't cool enough? What if it was blazing hot? What if it was so hot I could barely breathe and was exhausted? What if I keep getting up later and later and suddenly I make it so I can't train anymore?" After a couple blocks of this ceaseless inner agitation, I realized that none of it was real. I was projecting myself into an imagined future when I imagined that the conditions would not be ideal for jogging. All of it was in my head. None of it was real. The fact was that today I woke up when I woke up and I jogged when I jogged and it was sunny and cool and perfectly fine.

So this made me ponder Yoga Sutra 2.16 (which came up in a yoga class Monday): "Future suffering can and should be avoided" or in another translation, "Pain that has not yet come is avoidable". Not only is pain that hasn't yet come avoidable - it's not even REAL. It doesn't exist. The real pain is the nagging fearful idea that that pain will one day come and it will be painful. Dude. Why do we humans do this to ourselves? Why do we think that by anticipating problems and living them out in our mind we are somehow safeguarding against them? Why can't we just make the best choices we can make given the information that we have and trust that when those future moments become the present, we will do what we can and we will do our best and only THEN will we deal with pain, if there is pain. But we will not create pain in the meantime based on mind-made ideas about potential pain. You know?

Training Days 20 & 21: Au Naturale

So many awesome yogic/runnery things have happened over the weekend. Saturday I ran 10 miles. Starting at my apartment, up Crescent Heights, past 3rd, Beverly, Melrose, and Sunset. Right on Hollywood Blvd, left up along the hiker paths to the top where Runyon Canyon hits Mullholand Drive, then turned down Nichols Canyon and wound down the hill again beside a babbling bumbling brook and these pretty little cottages with flowering trees. Then on the last couple miles I was getting quite tired. My limbs were feeling heavy. It was starting to drizzle. All I could think about was how good a hot bath would feel on my aching joints and muscles. Probably more amazing than a hot bath had ever felt before.

Finally through sheets of rain I made it back to my apartment where I did some forward bends and various other yoga stretches in the bathtub and curled up in bed for 3 hours. This run was the first time where I wondered if I'm really able to run this marathon. That was 10 miles. We're talking about 26. But then, I did have a couple glasses of wine the night before. Probably not the best idea. After my 3 hours in fetal position I went to my friend Carrie's and she took the above photo of me on my way into headstand (sirsasana) on her roof.

Then today I needed to run 3 miles and I was feeling really sluggish and not confident about my form so I plodded on down to the La Cienega Park and plodded around the track a few times. Someone was jogging right behind me and her change (or keys?) were jingling in the most annoying way so I had to change directions. Overall I was just feeling really down on myself so I decided to take my shoes off. In the ChiRunning technique they recommend running a bit with bare feet. Apparently your body naturally finds perfect ChiRunning alignment with no cushy shoes to cushion your feet so it's a good exercise to try.

So I asked a little older guy and his big football linebacker type trainer if they could keep an eye on my shoes and I took a lap in bare feet and get this - it was AMAZING! The soft dirt felt absolutely delicious under my feet and I knew exactly how to run. I landed perfectly evenly on each foot. It made me think about the arch of the foot and how in yoga we are supposed to balance ourself perfectly above the dome of the foot, not down through a bone in the heel or the balls of the toes. We are supposed to use the perfect suspension of the arch to hold us up. I was so enthused that I took an extra lap and then came back to put on my shoes.

At this point the football player trainer guy began to frown at me because he has extensive education and experience in sports and training and he thinks running barefoot is bad for the joints. "But have you heard about ChiRunning?" I asked. To which he started laughing. "What're you talking about?" he said "I'm a yoga teacher, I'm into this stuff" I said, and told him that barefoot running helps train the body to land correctly on the foot. To which he told me he has tight hips (when you say you're a yoga teacher people always tell you where they are tight). So we wound up down on the ground doing pigeon pose (eka pada rajakapotanasana) to open his hips. He (obviously) didn't have a yoga blanket so we used one of his medicine balls to support the hip of the front leg. I helped him get his back leg extended, tent his fingers, and lift his heart through his upper arms. He totally understood all the direction and had beautiful alignment, which we were both excited about. He loved the eka pada rajakapotanasana prep! Then we did baddha konasana and matsyandrasana (he felt this got into his glutious minimus really well). So so so fun. I love seeing new people find yoga. I ran home with much more spring in my heart.