Mindful Marathon

It's very hard in the beginning to understand that the whole idea is not to beat the other runners. Eventually you learn that the competition is against the little voice inside you that wants you to quit.

George A. Sheehan.

I decided to do something a little different this week. A couple of months ago, I learned that a yoga instructor (Lucas Rockwood) living in Barcelona, Spain, was hosting an unusual “race” that he was calling the Mindful Marathon. I have run a few regular marathons, and pretty much decided I never wanted to run another, but this was going to be different. Over the span of twelve hours, the runners would run 26.2 miles for the full marathon or 13.1 for the half, but instead of just running them flat out, they would be running 1-2 mile loops at the top of every hour. The first loop was the longest, either 4.2 or 2.1 miles depending on whether you were doing the full or half; and then every hour after that you would run either a 2 or 1 mile loop. I decided to try it. After each loop, there was a journaling assignment, in a small book, the MIndful Marathon Journal. Some people would run in person in Barcelona, but others, like me, would map out a loop to run at home, and keep in touch with other runners via a private chat group.

I decided to give myself the extra challenge of taking a picture during each loop. Here is the result, all taken with my iPhone, over the course of twelve hours (7am - 7pm) on September 24, 2023.

No doubt a brain and some shoes are essential for marathon success, although if it comes down to a choice, pick the shoes. More people finish marathons with no brains than with no shoes.

Don Kardong

The Long Day of Running

Loop 1: 7:00 am

I started without thinking,

as I do when I know

the thing is hard.

Just start.

Lace the shoes.

Put on the layers.

Go outside.

Start running.

Don’t think about the long run.

By mile three, the sky was blue.

I was home at 4.2

Loop 2: 8:00 am

A few minutes to rest

between the first

and second hour,

second loop.

I didn’t change,

kept on my shoes -

just went out

again and ran.

I saw a hawk

above me in a tree

get chased away

by a bunch of crows -

then I was home.

Loop 3: 9:00 am

These little segments

of running and rest

go by so fast-

I drink water,

eat a little,

write a little

and then I’m back out

on the road

stopping only to see

the dew drip

from a pink

hydrangea.

Loop 4: 10:00 am

After the third loop -

I take off my shoes,

wash my feet,

change my socks,

and splash water on my face.

This is the heaven

of clean dry feet.

I write about seasons passing

before I go back out

on the road,

where

a single red leaf

falls

Loop 5: 11:00 am

The miles are stacking up,

the temperature is rising.

I am hungry -

and there’s a ripe

tomato in my garden. (12.8 miles)

Loop 6: 12:00 pm

Oh I must be getting tired -

I stopped

to get a picture of the bee

resting on the guardrail

only to see

it was a hornet

and I was way too close.

Luckily, it flew away

without a sting. (14.97 miles)

Loop 7: 1:00 pm

I am a new person.

I took a cool shower

after lap six -

changed my clothes,

changed my shoes-

went out to find

blue water, blue sky

and a white sailboat

drifting by. (17.13 miles)

Loop 8: 2:00 pm

Fierce little squirrel

with a nut your mouth

bigger than your head,

and another nut safely

wedged below you

in a cracked limb -

I’m working pretty hard

for my next meal too,

but not nearly as hard

as you.

(19.29 miles)

Loop 9: 3:00 pm

An audience of deer

greeted me

at the beginning

of loop nine - staring.

I felt a little like

Snow White -

until I realized

they were just waiting

for me to pass by

so they could

finish their game.

(21.47 miles)

---

Anyone can run 20 miles. It's the next six that count.

Barry Magee

Loop 10: 4:00 pm

I’m feeling the miles.

Rubbed some oil on my feet

Changed my socks.

Bravely went back out -

saw a doe standing

by the edge of the woods

eyeing me,

unimpressed.

(23.64 miles)

Loop 11: 5:00 pm

How happy i am

to see the black crow

in the green grass.

Knowing this is my last

full loop; I will only

have a half mile left to run

on the last one -

then I can really get clean

and eat and be done.

(25.79 miles)

Loop 12: 6:00 pm

The marathon can humble you.

Bill Rodgers

I finished. Along the way I picked up acorns and acorn caps, and tucked them into my mailbox at the end of every loop so I could make the sign for my last picture. What can I say. I love to run. I loved this day. It is so different than a timed, flat-out race. It still tests you. It’s still 26.2 miles, but you can take care of yourself along the way. I am taking it easy running this week, but I feel better than I ever did after a traditional marathon. It was hard and I was tired, but I already want to do it again. I am so grateful for Lucas Rockwood and this brilliant idea!

Thank you so much for being here!

P.S. Also Thank you Tom and Lisa for your support all the way through!

Finding Beauty in the Flawed

Nothing we see or hear is perfect. But right there in the imperfection is perfect reality.

Shunryu Suzuki

The Woodchuck

If I had weeded the garden,

he wouldn’t have come

standing on his hind legs-

savoring dandelions

and wheat grass,

resting on an old stump

and then waddling, content,

back into the woods.

The Crow

I welcome the glossy black bird

when he comes into my yard

frequenting my feeder,

nearly too big for the pole

quivering under the weight

of his heavy body.

I do not judge

the bloodiness of his beak -

it is crow nature to eat meaty things.

I welcome him here,

in my half wild garden-

where he is not expected

to want to be.

I welcome him here -

wondering.

The Deer

Their coats, like moth-eaten clothes

imperfectly stored for the winter

are changing for summer,

shedding extra layers -

lightening

to a beautiful reddish brown.

but their eyes are still as deep

as winter.

Beauty is the moment of transition, as if the form were just ready to flow into other forms.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

What a magical week. The woods are bursting with wild things. I was actually trying to get a picture of the crow who has become a regular at the feeder when I saw the woodchuck (aka groundhog) outside my window. The crow flew off, but the groundhog was having a feast and I don’t think he even saw me.

It wasn’t until the next day that I was able to get pictures of the crow. I have to confess that I cleaned him up in the three pictures I shared. (If you want to see what he looked like before I cleaned him up, let me know!) I was afraid that there was just a little too much grossness on his beak. I feel pretty honored that he keeps coming back. I guess crows don’t normally use backyard feeders. He’s become a member of my wild family.

The deer have been a little less present in the yard lately, but I see them everywhere on my walks. I sometimes wonder if they’re wary while their coats are changing. If you know, I’d be interested.

Thank you so much for being here! I hope you have a wonderful first week of June. See you next Friday.

Looking Up

When you look up at the sky, you have a feeling of unity which delights you and makes you giddy.

Ferdinand Hodler

A woodpecker  

shuffles up the dead palm tree,

pausing and knocking,

picking out her morning meal

in tiny bites.

She shuffles and knocks

pauses and eats,

up and up,

until gradually

she’s circling

the frondless tip -

where she stops

and lifts her head

to the blue sky.

I spent a week looking up, and this is what I saw:

Seagulls flying overhead, calling.

The noisy green parrots looking down -

wondering what I was looking at.

Crows that alight anywhere,

mourning doves who do not approve of crows.

And then the moon,

the moon,

the waning moon.

Looking up was another assignment from the Zen Camera book by David Ulrich. He meant it more generally, as in keeping your head up and looking around you, observing your surroundings rather than burying your face in your phone, or getting lost in your thoughts, but I decided to take it literally for this week. So, here’s to looking up!

Thank you for being here!

Once you have tasted the taste of sky, you will forever look up.

Leonardo da Vinci