I remember a few years ago, I signed up for a Yoga Journal challenge to meditate practice yoga daily. An ambitious plan, but I figured if I could do it (along with a hectic work schedule, regular runs and fitness classes), then surely I would become a more zen person, filled with ethereal lightness and zenness. Not to mention that the daily stretching would help ease my tight runners' muscles.
I think I lasted a week.
At first, buoyed by my resolve, it seemed easy to fit it all in. And after three or four days of meditation, it did seem to be getting easier to clear and focus my mind. There was even one exceptional day where I remember sitting cross-legged, listening to the meditation track and aware of everything around and within me, my breath through my nose...Being, and aware of my being, but not thinking. It's an experience I rarely get during meditation, but when I do, I am filled with awe and yes, almost lightness.
But then within a few days, having missed the morning's meditation, I found myself shutting my office door at lunch to meditate. Then rushing home and upstairs to fit in the yoga practice before (or after) a run or other workout.
I remember complaining to a work friend about my inability to fit it all in and commit to the Yoga Journal schedule, and I remember her chuckling and saying, "Then why are you doing this to yourself?"
Her lighthearted but honest comment made me realize two things:
1) if it was stressing me out, then clearly the experience wasn't having the beneficial impact I had hoped it would. Better to practice yoga a few times a week and enjoy it, than be stressed out about trying to be relaxed;
2) the only person who was putting these insane expectations on me was - ME. Like so often in running, I (and many type-A personalities who often, coincidentally, tend to be long-distance runners) set a high bar for myself. But often, life gets in the way. At the end of the day, no one else is going to be disappointed by the fact that I only ran 20ish kilometres at 6:20 this week, or that I only blogged three times instead of 7.
That said, as Marnie McBean writes in her book The Power of More, part of the success of professional athletes is their desire to always push themselves a little more and never settle on contentment.
The trick, says McBean, is to hover between both poles - satisfaction with our successes while at the same time striving for more and the next challenge (something she calls the "jammed cat" theory - since a cat always lands on its feet but a piece of toast will always fall on its jammed side...So a jammed cat will always spin between both sides, in theory).
Anyways, long story short, the same seems to have happened to my wonderful NaNoBloPoMo resolution. I've been struggling ever since I signed on to this challenge (of my own volition, I might add). But it's not like I've cleared out more time in my schedule to write more. It's really no wonder that I can't keep up, what a busy work schedule (which, incidentally, involves daily blogging or blog editing), rigorous fitness class schedule and trips to the mountains with hubby or local hiking on weekends.
But the point is, I'm still here, blogging my little heart away, trying to catch up on four days' worth of posts. Some of them will be short and hastily written, but every so often, one of them may hit a chord with other readers. And after all, the point of this exercise is to write. And write I will!
How's your NaNoBloPoMo going? I want to know!
~ HRG
Showing posts with label persistence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label persistence. Show all posts
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Sunday, June 12, 2011
On the path to recovery: week 1 complete. 5 more weeks to go!
My what a difference a few days can make! I feel like a completely different coloured snail compared to the one who posted only a few days ago!
In the last few days, I've been taking it easy, as promised. And I've started to see the results, bit by bit, day by day.
Yesterday, mom and I walked around most of the Halifax Seaport Farmer's Market -- North America's oldest farmer's market. Unfortunately hubby couldn't join us in relishing in the glorious sunshine, since he was working, but it seemed that most of the Saturday crowd had decided to head outside to soak up the rays, which means that the crowds had thinned out a little so the marked was easier to navigate. In any case, whether due to the positive energy of the Saturday morning crowd or the sun beaming down on Halifax yesterday, I felt like a completely different woman than I had only days ago, when I reported feeling quite sloth-like.
We wandered through many of the stalls, checking out the artisans' wares, and ran into my friend Dan of DC Art & Design at his stall where we chatted for awhile. Turns out he's started running too, from the second hill at Purcell's Cove, around the Frog Pond and then back to the hill. I have a sneaking suspicion I'll see him out at the races one of these days! Is it just me or is running kind of contagious?
After awhile, we lined up at the creperie for a couple of maple sugar crepes (not quite as good as I had expected -- I recommend the classic ham & cheese over these) and sat by the living wall, then bought a bottle of wine from Sainte Famille for my dad for Father's Day.
After all that, I felt like I had run 10k, so we returned home. This was a good reminder that not only am I not ready to start running again, I'm still just as thankful as ever for the great shape I was in before my surgery. And it's made me more determined than ever to get back there.
After a little siesta in the afternoon (napping is easy once you give in to the concept that it's a necessary part of healing and not just being lazy), we headed downtown to Spring Garden Road and into the Public Gardens, where it seemed like most of Halifax's promgoers had convened in their tuxes and princess dresses.
We bought an ice cream from Sugah and sat in the sun, marveling at how elaborate prom dresses have become (though I much prefer them to the short gowns we wore in the early nineties. If only we'd known!).
That was about all the activity I could handle for the day so I headed back home, but instead of hitting the sack at 9pm, I stayed up till 11!
It's amazing the little milestones you celebrate when you're on the path to recovery. Only a week ago, it was all I could do to sit up in my hospital bed, and I just about fainted when I walked the two feet from the bed to my chair, breaking out in a cold sweat in the process. Now I've managed to walk (more like meander) for about half an hour. Next week, I may make it around the block!
Today, the sun wasn't shining as bright;y but hubby was able to join us for brunch at Mix Fresh -- our final luncheon with mom before she returns home to Port Hope tomorrow, now that I'm on the road to recovery. As we headed back up the hill to our car, I joked that I almost felt good enough to return to work.
Except that when I got home, I napped for two and a half hours.
Not ready yet, I don't think. But I can feel myself getting stronger by the day. Much of this process is starting to feel like a Sunday long run. I can't remember the times when I dragged myself to the Running Room and forced myself through a run, knowing that it would pay off in the end but all the while willing myself not to stop and call a taxi. So often a long run is all about that -- patience and perseverance. And if you build a strong base through training, you'll thank yourself for it on race day.
This road to recovery is starting to feel the same way: I'm building my base now through patience and perseverance, gradually storing up my strength and increasing the distance and amount of activity I'm able to cover each day. I've come to accept that living slowly is a key part of the recovery process. And just when you're training, sometimes you push through the bad runs because you know the next one will be better, I'm sure there will be days in the coming weeks when all I want to do is say to heck with it and ignore the doctor's orders to take this time to heal.
But in the end, I'll cross the finish line to the all-clear, and you'll see me bounding through the streets of Halifax, my curly head bouncing in the breeze.
Week one of recovery is complete. Five more weeks to go!
~ HRG
Update: I just came back from a 2.5-k walk and didn't collapse! Yay! :D
In the last few days, I've been taking it easy, as promised. And I've started to see the results, bit by bit, day by day.
Yesterday, mom and I walked around most of the Halifax Seaport Farmer's Market -- North America's oldest farmer's market. Unfortunately hubby couldn't join us in relishing in the glorious sunshine, since he was working, but it seemed that most of the Saturday crowd had decided to head outside to soak up the rays, which means that the crowds had thinned out a little so the marked was easier to navigate. In any case, whether due to the positive energy of the Saturday morning crowd or the sun beaming down on Halifax yesterday, I felt like a completely different woman than I had only days ago, when I reported feeling quite sloth-like.
We wandered through many of the stalls, checking out the artisans' wares, and ran into my friend Dan of DC Art & Design at his stall where we chatted for awhile. Turns out he's started running too, from the second hill at Purcell's Cove, around the Frog Pond and then back to the hill. I have a sneaking suspicion I'll see him out at the races one of these days! Is it just me or is running kind of contagious?
After awhile, we lined up at the creperie for a couple of maple sugar crepes (not quite as good as I had expected -- I recommend the classic ham & cheese over these) and sat by the living wall, then bought a bottle of wine from Sainte Famille for my dad for Father's Day.
After all that, I felt like I had run 10k, so we returned home. This was a good reminder that not only am I not ready to start running again, I'm still just as thankful as ever for the great shape I was in before my surgery. And it's made me more determined than ever to get back there.
After a little siesta in the afternoon (napping is easy once you give in to the concept that it's a necessary part of healing and not just being lazy), we headed downtown to Spring Garden Road and into the Public Gardens, where it seemed like most of Halifax's promgoers had convened in their tuxes and princess dresses.
We bought an ice cream from Sugah and sat in the sun, marveling at how elaborate prom dresses have become (though I much prefer them to the short gowns we wore in the early nineties. If only we'd known!).
That was about all the activity I could handle for the day so I headed back home, but instead of hitting the sack at 9pm, I stayed up till 11!
It's amazing the little milestones you celebrate when you're on the path to recovery. Only a week ago, it was all I could do to sit up in my hospital bed, and I just about fainted when I walked the two feet from the bed to my chair, breaking out in a cold sweat in the process. Now I've managed to walk (more like meander) for about half an hour. Next week, I may make it around the block!
Today, the sun wasn't shining as bright;y but hubby was able to join us for brunch at Mix Fresh -- our final luncheon with mom before she returns home to Port Hope tomorrow, now that I'm on the road to recovery. As we headed back up the hill to our car, I joked that I almost felt good enough to return to work.
Except that when I got home, I napped for two and a half hours.
Not ready yet, I don't think. But I can feel myself getting stronger by the day. Much of this process is starting to feel like a Sunday long run. I can't remember the times when I dragged myself to the Running Room and forced myself through a run, knowing that it would pay off in the end but all the while willing myself not to stop and call a taxi. So often a long run is all about that -- patience and perseverance. And if you build a strong base through training, you'll thank yourself for it on race day.
This road to recovery is starting to feel the same way: I'm building my base now through patience and perseverance, gradually storing up my strength and increasing the distance and amount of activity I'm able to cover each day. I've come to accept that living slowly is a key part of the recovery process. And just when you're training, sometimes you push through the bad runs because you know the next one will be better, I'm sure there will be days in the coming weeks when all I want to do is say to heck with it and ignore the doctor's orders to take this time to heal.
But in the end, I'll cross the finish line to the all-clear, and you'll see me bounding through the streets of Halifax, my curly head bouncing in the breeze.
Week one of recovery is complete. Five more weeks to go!
~ HRG
Update: I just came back from a 2.5-k walk and didn't collapse! Yay! :D
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