Beyond Fast

Beyond Fast

A few weeks ago, after running the same six-mile loop for several months, the thought, I must be getting pretty fast by now, emerged, so I timed myself. Turns out six months and 500 miles of training hadn’t made me any faster.

Great expectations are my specialty, believing I can have, do and be far more than what is probable. And while they say that if you shoot for the moon and miss, at least you land among the stars, you often land with a thud of disappointment, feeling that you should be doing more or better than you are.

This experience was no different. What’s the point if I’m not getting any faster? , I thought. Rather than leave this as a dangling rhetorical carrot of self-doubt, I tried to rephrase the question. Assuming I’m not getting any faster, what are the benefits of dedicating four precious hours a week to running?

It’s the time to myself, listening to an interesting podcast, observing the world around me, clearing my mind, feeling into my body and knowing I can travel long distances on foot. And the truth is, while I may not be getting faster, the hills are easier. I’m no longer winded or in pain.

The Yoga Sutras teach that we should practice whatever we do with abhyasa (effort) and vairagya (non-attachment) to the outcome. The Sutras don’t say that we shouldn’t try. Effort is a key component of any endeavor. Without effort, nothing happens. It’s the attachment to the outcome of our effort that causes pain and makes us forget about who we truly are. I felt that I really got this lesson- keep running, give your full effort, but don’t stress about the outcome.

However, on my very next run, just before the last of 3 killer hills, a guy in his mid-twenties bounded past. Forgetting all about the true purpose of running, I said to myself, “He may be fast, but I think I can catch him on the hill.” About five steps later I tripped over a tiny pebble and went down- two hands, then a knee and shoulder roll, right into the mud. Ooff!

I thought the “suffering” that the Yoga Sutras talk about was only mental! Jumping back up, I dusted myself off and kept going, annoyed with the Universe for the harsh reminder on non-attachment, but also fascinated at how the ego mind sneaks in so quickly that we don’t even know it’s there – doing it’s best to get between us and the sheer enjoyment of our moment-to-moment experience.

As I galumphed up the hill like an old horse, the bouncy young man smiled to me on his way back down. At the top of the hill a couple of local characters sat on the guardrail, getting stoned and cracking up to themselves as if they were in on the cosmic joke.

As the ground leveled out I ran past a billboard at the bus stop. For a few weeks, it had read, “God is LOVE”. This time it read, “Beyond Fast”. I smiled, almost laughing aloud. Now I was in on the cosmic joke too- the funny ways the Universe communicates to us its deepest teachings.

A few weeks later a friend asked me to run a 5k race with her. During the first quarter mile of the race it became apparent that she was in fact, “beyond fast”. I knew early that I could not keep up with her. As I slowed down she took off like a shot.

Then a sea of people passed me. I felt like the sickly salmon in the school, the one that will probably get pawed by a bear, while the others make it upstream to spawn.

Doing my best not to make up stories about why they were faster or how they weren’t pacing properly, I tried to just focus on my body and my breath, noting that my muscles felt weak and wobbly, but not dwelling on it, slowing down when I needed to and speeding up when I could. Noting the view of the Freedom Tower and the odd quietness of everyone running together. Eventually I reached the finish line, where it was right back to being mom, and answering life’s most important questions, Where is my water bottle? and What are we eating for dinner?

Wobbling to the car, I felt I had touched that place that is beyond fast. It’s great to work to improve. It’s great to set goals and achieve, but when our attachment to our expectations take away our joy, it may be time to ask ourselves, What is beyond fast? What is beyond the pressure we put on ourselves to achieve? Is there peace there? Is there joy there? Is there a deeper awareness of the loving presence within us?

I’d like to offer my own translation of a Rumi poem, “Beyond (fast) there is a field, I will meet you there.” I think that field is the field of our awareness, the space of our heart, the place where we recognize that our purpose is not to compete with one another or even ourselves. Our purpose is to connect, to love and to enjoy.

Namaste,
EJ

Elizabeth Flint