All or nothing avoided.

This notion of all or nothing seems to be a part of my nature. I run a kajillion miles or none; I eat a salad with lemon or an entire cake. Perhaps it isn't nature, but a belief of mine rooted in childhood pain that there isn't enough, there will not be enough, I am not enough. I'm not sure, but I suspect that being in the moment, listening to myself, staying centered will help lead me to a more balanced place.

Last week I attempted a run with my aching hip and went 10 miles. Then I didn't run the rest of the week because my hip hurt like mad. Today I ran a relaxed 4.5-5 miles in 42 minutes, and I feel good. My right hip and ankle made themselves known early on in the run but gradually started to loosen up and feel better as the run continued. Part of me wanted to stop and walk halfway through the run, another part of me thought the run was too short and should go on for another 5 miles. So, I met myself in the middle and did the short run, feeling it, appreciating it, recognizing that step after step, mile after mile is a significant achievement.

I've also let go of the marathon a little bit. I started the process of training to give myself focus, purpose, and an arena in which I could unite with my body. The training has done this, but not in the ways I thought it would. At first, the training led me far, far from my body, pushing mentally beyond what my body wanted and needed; I turned off the receptors until I couldn't tune out the pain. Now I'm working my way back to a place where I can pay attention. The pushing has eased up a bit--now my aim is less pushing and more sliding my way into a flow. I'm thinking of it more as surfing and less as boxing. There is a Way, a natural order of things, I believe; and we can tap into it or we can fight it. Me? I don't want to fight anymore.

Which doesn't mean there won't be tension and obstacles; it just means I'm trying to change the way I respond to them.

Which also means the endpoint cannot be the marathon. I look forward to the event, but running it cannot mean breaking me. I feel like this is a real breakthrough for me that carries over into all other parts of my life. Relationships, work, spirituality . . . all the things that are important to me are not worth damaging or destroying myself to attain or sustain them. This goes back to the flow--everything should and can be on the same plane, moving in the same direction, even if not at the same pace.

Timing, I find, is most frustrating . . . requiring the most patience.