Mind

I wanted to jot down an idea about running and awareness before I lost it once again in the haze of my brain . . .

Perhaps I want to call this concept, the "emptiness" of consciousness.  There are a few races (and of course training runs) in which my mind has been able to become more intimately connected to my body and escaped for at least a period of time the narrative of individual consciousness.  It's almost like in the sensation of running (and realization of breath) my mind becomes temporarily aware of the whole.  I remember experiencing this almost accidentally during the Salt Lake City marathon a few years ago, but the point of this entry is to explain the purposefulness of finding that (dare I say) zen kinda place during El Vaquero over the past weekend.

Early on in the race, I was way too inside my own head and wasn't letting myself enjoy the race as much as I wanted.  In fact part of the spinning going on inside my head focused on the question: Why am I not enjoying this race more?  I could see how beautiful everything was and wanted to enjoy it completely, but instead I was focusing on the miles ahead, the competition around me, the training both behind and in front of me, and finally the struggle of climbing and descending.  If I couldn't get out of the "race" and into the experience of the mountains, why in the world was I here?  Might as well be at home on the couch, or running on a treadmill somewhere . . .

Finally, I decided I wanted to experience the race differently and made a conscious decision to shut everything else out and simply focus on each step as it took place -- not the next step, this step.  Well, not really each step, rather it was as if I focused on each breath.  The inhale-exhale relationship of each breath became my necessary focus point.  Lacking discipline, flexibility, and belief I am pathetic at things like yoga; however, I found myself swallowed up at this point in the race by the process of breathing (a concept I recall from my very limited, sporadic, half-hearted attempts at things like yoga.  And through the act of consciously breathing, I discovered a wild awareness of the race going on around me.  It was almost like I found myself running (and only running).  There was nothing else going on in my consciousness.  I wasn't daydreaming.  I wasn't contemplating.  I wasn't analyzing.  I wasn't rejoicing.  I wasn't complaining.  I was simply running.

And through the act of running, I was experiencing the trail, the mountains, and ironically enough the race.

Don't get me wrong this section of the race didn't last forever -- can't really say when I went in and out of awareness -- but even when the feeling faded away there was a piece/peace remaining.