Thank you, Angela, for getting me to get out of the house and work out this afternoon. I feel much better now that I'm back from my jog than I did on my way TO the jog. 50 minutes on the treadmill, 3.58 miles, 645.2 calories... not really all that exciting. My legs felt kind of weak, I'm guessing that mostly has to do with sleep deprivation.
Picked up a couple of interesting books at the library yesterday evening. A book I had on hold had come in, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver was a book I'd put on hold during the fast. I figured that as long as I was fasting, I may as well learn something about food. Being fairly popular, it didn't actually arrive until after the fast. Oh well. There's still time to read it. It's the story of a family deciding that they were going to try and limit their food miles over the course of a year growing everything they could and buying as locally as possible for everything else. I don't know that it's something I could do, but I think it will be an interesting read. Hopefully I'll discover something.
I also picked up a little thin book (that's almost a pamphlet) called Running: The Sacred Art - Preparing to Practice. The introduction is by Kristin Armstrong, a Runner's World contributing editor. I liked what she had to say in the forward...
At a dark time in my life when I was lacking peace and clarity, I began to read about meditation. I longed to be one of those people who could achieve peace through meditation – quiet my mind, calm my heart by focusing on my breath or repeating a mantra. But I could never quite make that happen by sitting still, my thoughts buzzing around annoyingly like summer insects by an outside light. Bless the person who wrote something that I read someplace that said it was possible to enter a state of meditation by monotonous movement. This is my sacred space when I run alone, this is my ritual, this is my sanctuary! I find God here, waiting for me, matching my pace. As my breath gets less jagged and my stride settles into my unique pattern of effort, I find inner stillness cradled in outer motion. Through that stillness I have found a great deal of peace. After a lifetime of panting, I finally caught my breath.I think I can get back to that. I know that when I was training for the Ironman I was able to get there. I don't think running on the trainer with the iPod will let me get there... that means no more workout room, or at least no more workout room when I'm not just trying to get in a couple of miles.
I'm in the process of redesigning my friend Lisa's blog. I'm willing to redesign another blog for free. If you're interested, leave a comment explaining why it should be yours and I'll pick a winner. Free design, who can beat that?
More later.
2 comments:
i like kristens writing. read all her stuff in RW. she hits on a point. I do almost as much praying on the bike and swim and running than in my morning time.
I am not a, "triathlon is my religion " person. Jesus Christ is my religion but that doesn't mean their is no truth to finding God on the pavement as well as the pew.
Bri, I'm putting in my bid for you to redesign my blog. Why? Look at it! It's a sad, sad looking blog, and I'm too technologically impaired to do anything about it. And I actually have a readership now. Not a large readership, but readership nonetheless.
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