It is quiet. The air is still. I hear a soft pounding in my chest and my feet on the asphalt. My heart reminds me of the task at hand: kee...
Thursday, March 28, 2013
your mind. Breath in and out. Feel your feet on the ground. Align your
spine and tilt your pelvis slightly so that it is level to the ground.
Lean your upper body forward so your head is just barely over your toes.
Breath in and out. Relax your shoulders and bring your arms to your
sides bent at 45 degree angles with your forearms parallel to the
ground. Lean slightly further so that you start to fall but instead you
catch yourself and start to run. Continue running. Leaning. Breathing.
Breath in and out. Feel your feet on the ground. Clear your mind.
When I run, I remind myself of what I learned when I trained to run with Chi Running. It is effortless and easy. I try to think of gliding. I picture sailboats, soaring birds, children in carefree sprints toward destinationless dreams.
Lately, my running has been anything but carefree. I struggle with pace, tempo, rhythm...distance. I battle fatigue and gravity. The Earth itself seems to pull me down. Here is where I long for the calm of Chi--to bring me back to the center of my universe and situate me on the head of this pin. Perfectly poised and ready for the next beat, step, stride, distance. But, no. It has been a very long time since I felt the whoosh of adestination rush up to greet me; I have a hard time admitting that it has.
The most wonderful thing about Chi Running is that it is not for speed, distance or destination; it is for joy. Today I will run for joy.