In the Mind's Eye

Over the weekend, I registered for the Long Beach Marathon, my local marathon. I'll be running the half marathon and sharing a day of celebration of all things running with the 18,000 or so participants.

I rarely participate in the larger events, preferring the more peaceful setting of my early morning runs and the occasional other runners, cyclist, coyotes, and hawks that I encounter along the LA river.

This Labor Day, I put in a very gentle twelve-miler in the sweltering heat of late morning. Probably not the greatest time for me to choose to run that far, but I couldn't resist the expanse of open day after sleeping in.

Only a couple of miles or so along the river, I returned to a common meditation that the LA river encourages in me — the wonder of how beauty can exist in the most unexpected places. I joke with friends that there is no LA "river." In truth, it is a concrete-lined channel at best. I refer to it as the LA sewer. Not kind words to be sure, and when you see the level of trash, shopping carts, and random detritus that floats along the river, you'd see what I mean.

And even amongst all this dirt, birders are often lined up along the bike path to view the wonderful array of wildlife that makes it's home in the river.

Yesterday, I saw a huge Blue Heron perched atop an upturned shopping cart, swathed in black plastic trash bags in the middle of the deepest part of the channel. It presented an opportunity for some kind of wonderfully pretentious artistic photograph. And as I ran, I thought of all the times the wonder of inspiration has come to me, and my fellow humans, in the midst of the darker parts of our lives. I gave thanks for the change that came as a result of my time in prison. I thought of the triumph of the human Spirit on September 11, 2007. Of the day itself and immediately afterwards—before that event became a political volleyball.

Half a mile further, after passing more Herons, Great White Egrets, and other wonders, I saw up in the distance a group of six or so flamingos paddling in the center of the river. Flamingos! I felt a pulse of joy surge through my body. Such beauty right here for me. Thank you God!

As I neared the flamingos, I saw they were not flamingos at all, but half a dozen faded highway cones that the city had marked a crossing point in the river for their work trucks. I laughed as I ran.

Then I remembered the joy that I had experienced when the cones had been "flamingos" to me. All because that was what I told myself they were. What a powerful example of the ability of the mind to create experience.

Later in my run, as I neared the 10 mile mark, I was tired, dehydrated, and over heated. It was in the low 90s at least and unusually humid for Long Beach. Remembering my flamingos, I started picturing a batch filled with cool water, and my being immersed in it from the waist down. Often at the end of longer runs, I shower cold water on my legs for five minutes to assist with recovery. Why not do it while I was running, I thought.

Sport—and other—psychologists have know if for years and trained their athletes accordingly: the mind can not tell the difference between reality and a carefully created fantasy. Downhill skiers, boxers, runners of all distances, archers and marksmen, quarterbacks, javelin throwers and many more all spend considerable time visualizing their most important moves to train the mind for success.

Today, use your running time to train your mind for success. Remember that you have the option, always, to choose what you see. This is not looking at the world through rose- (or flamingo-!) colored glasses. Rather, you are looking deeper, more keenly, more consciously for the truth, beauty, and Spirit that is in everything. Everything.

And that includes you.