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.
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