Quality and Quantity

"I don’t think the total mileage is very important.  To me, it was the way in which I ran those miles which was important."  Derek Clayton, Australian marathoner.

When Derek Clayton set the marathon record in a classic race at the Fukuoka Marathon in Japan on December 3, 1967 in 2:09:36.4, it was the first marathon race ever run in less than two hours and ten minutes.  Two years later, he set a new record of 2:08:33 in Antwerp—a record that stood for an astounding 12 years, in a sport where a record that stands for a year or two is pretty remarkable. In fact, Derek Clayton's record still is the record that stood the longest in marathon record history

The current record, held by enigmatic Ethiopian Haile Gebrselassie stands at 2:04:26 — four minutes have been shaved off the record time in 40 years. And this record, too, of course, will be surpassed.  And the next.  And so on. Each empire will fall.

"Everything we do," inspirational career coach Rick Jarow has said, "will be forgotten.  How we do it will remain for all time."  Or put another way, it's not the miles we run, or even how fast we run them, but how we run—who we are as we run them—that really counts.

As the New Year moves upon us, there will be a flurry of activity.  Resolutions, new commitments, inspirational goals, plans for fresh accomplishments.  Many of us will be seeking to do life differently.  Many professionals in my line of work, life coaching, capitalize upon this time of year to encourage prospective clients to get out and do more — create the life they want, to finally do what it is that they long to do.  To create a "new you."  You version 3.0 perhaps?

In my experience, this frenetic activity is counter productive in the long term.  I have already met, as an estimate, twenty people who have shared that there Christmas day was the best they ever had.  What was so wonderful about it? These are some of the words that come in the reply: slower pace; time with family; mellow; connected; joy; rest; peace; introspection.  You get the idea.

It is definitely the experience of being that seems to touch so many people at this time of year. And with so many of us immersed in our being at one time, there are real global consequences.  In fact, on Christmas day, the average global temperature drops about five degrees as a huge proportion of the globe steps out of busy work.

Of course, it is not a question of choosing between doing and being.  That would be like choosing between running 70 miles a week or not running at all.  As Derek Clayton says, it's the way in which we run the miles that counts. He shows us the way—not doing or being, but doing from being.

 

Too "woo woo" for the real world?  Remember that Clayton's 12-year record was achieved by giving an important focus on his inner experience—his beingness—as he was competing at the highest levels.

So as you consider your goals for 2008, make room for "being goals." In your running, rather than just adding on more miles as a way to improve, find ways to add more to the qualitative experience of your running.  My book can certainly help you to do that, and my website also has a list of inspirational running books and films for you to energize the tone of your running too.  To see those lists, click here.

 

Instead of seeking to redesign, reinvent, or improve yourself, perhaps it is time to rediscover yourSelf. The inherent perfection of who you are, and then create from that place. Work and creativity are not about earning the right to life but about giving voice to the unique expression of life that is you. You do not need to justify your existence.  You are here—there's your proof that you ought to be here!

In your wider life, in work, in relationship, in your communities, perhaps the greater goal for the year to come would be to be a better person to those around you, not just a better person than those around you. Now that's a goal worth training for!

Happy Trails!

Addition by Subtraction

"Any idiot can train himself into the ground; the trick is working in training to get gradually stronger." Keith Brantly, U.S. road racer and marathoner.

You, too, probably have those experiences from time to time when the same message seems to come from a zillion different areas in your life. For me, over the last several weeks, I have been hearing a similar message in my running, my professional life and business coaching work, and even in my spiritual practice.

Last week, the wonderfully enthusiastic Todd, who is one of the coaches for the Team in Training group in Long Beach, paused with me at a fuel station on our longer Saturday training run as we all continue our preparation for the L.A. marathon in March. (I'd be remiss if I did not offer you the chance to support the fundraising for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, so here it is!)

Todd gently inquired about a light strain I have been carrying in my right calf—I think it is the soleus muscle. And he did so with the exceptional caring and humility that belongs to truly experienced (Todd has run hundreds of marathons and many, many of them barefoot. That's Todd with barefoot running maestro Ken Bob. Visit the barefoot running site.).

When he asked how many mid-week miles I was running, I told him 8-8-12 for my Tu/Wed/Thur runs, and then there was our 10+ on Saturday.

"You might consider running less. See, your real goal now is completing L.A. Your other running needs to support that goal, not hinder it. You can go back to your regular schedule after L.A."

You want me to run less?! I replied like an addict asked to give up his favorite high. OK, then. Give me some numbers. He offered me 5-5-5.

So that is exactly what I have done. And my experience? Fabulous! While my runs have been quantitatively less, they have been qualitatively so much more. I have been more open-hearted, more at peace, and more in joy—even in the pouring rain. And, importantly, that strain has not shown up at all. I come in from my runs strong, with plenty more to give. Elated.

By doing less, I am clearly accomplishing more.

As a part of my professional work (though in reality this is an experience that is touching every area of my life), I am a member of a wonderful mastermind group facilitated by master coach Steve Chandler. So just over a week ago, I got this from Steve:

Desires, when they are strong, can be converted into clear commitments. And then pure enthusiasm causes the creation of time. Soon there's lots of time. All the time in the world. When the desire is strong, we have all the time in the world.

Not too many years ago, I simply tried to think of too many things every day. And by thinking of too many things every day, I never gave anything enough time or enough real thought to develop it. I was always on the mental run. I didn't realize that the real career strength in life came from slowing down and slowly choosing what to focus on. Until I saw how strong that idea could be, I was taking every phone call and pondering every hit of email with equal energy and that is definitely weak. That is not a strong way to live.

I wish I had known to tell myself this: Slow down. Do less. Accomplish more. Once someone asked Sir Isaac Newton, "How did you discover the theory of gravity?" He said, "You would have discovered it too if that's all you had thought about every day."

So there is was again.  And then, in my mastermind group meeting in Phoenix last month, I was talking with coaching powerhouse Justin Rohner during a break.  Justin is very knowledgeable about Byron Katie, and I was asking about her thoughts on debt. 

Justin explained that in many ways, living by creating debt is living in the future — becoming attached to the future money that will be needed to feed the debt payments.  Debt is like arguing with reality, according to Byron Katie, who encourages to understand that we have all the money we are supposed to at any given moment.  "If you don't believe me," she writes, "Go check you bank account!"  Justin added, "It's like pulling on your arm, saying 'You're supposed to be longer!'"

As if this was not enough, I was listening to some inspirational tapes as part of my spiritual practice, my teacher was sharing about how many times people will come to him and ask, "How do I progress on my spiritual path quicker?  I want to evolve quicker!" When I heard the response (and I paraphrase here), I felt goose bumps all over my body.  For me that's a sure sign that I need to sit up and listen.  If you want to evolve faster, slow down.

OK already!

As I slow down in all areas of my life, I am finding I am more focused, less easily distracted, less anxious, more available to my Self, my family, and my fellow human beings. As a result I experience more joy, more inspiration, and more clarity and fulfillment.

As you run (or whatever your chosen form of exercise might be) today, let yourself do it in a softer way.  Less distance, less push.  Less willfulness and more willingness. Willingness to experience yourself not just as a human doing but as a human being.  And beyond that, perhaps, no longer just as a human being searching for spiritual experience, but as a spiritual being having a human experience.

Happy trails!

Four Seasons

"Running is my meditation, mind flush, cosmic telephone, mood elevator and spiritual communion."  Lorraine Moller.

It's been a wonderful, wet week of running.  Wonderful you say?  Absolutely!  For me, as a British export, there are times when I miss the more marked definition of the seasons—especially at the end of a long California summer.

Yesterday morning, I was out at about 9 a.m. when a heavy downpour transformed the L.A. river into a raging torrent that would have put Newport Beach's Wedge to the test.  Waves of churning water cascading downstream with some pretty nice looking faces in places!  As I passed a solitary oncoming runner, the only other person out on the bike path, I extended my hand and we shared an exuberant and enthusiastic high five. The joy of our commitment to ourselves and our running glistened in the rain.

As I peered through the waterfall pouring from the peak of my hat, I thought more about the seasons.  In my men's group last night, a number of us shared how differently we experience ourselves in the winter.  More introspective, willing to slow down, softer.

And as I ran into now clearing skies, I recognized that the outer world of the seasons offers a wonderful mirror to different places in my own consciousness.  As I looked inside myself, I found all four seasons available.

There is a spring, comprised of my steadily increasing training as I prepare for March's L.A. Marathon, and the new friendships that are blossoming as a result of my participating in the Long Beach Team in Training group. New connections that are feeding me with new ideas, different perspectives, and fresh goals.

There is a summer, the joy of my marriage and family; my daughter completing her first school semester, and the way she is filled with the all the joy, creativity, and freedom of being two-and-a-half and immersing herself in the holiday season.  Such playfulness!

There is a fall, too. As many of you know, I am a recovering addict of many different shades: alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, and sex.  Sometimes being in recovery is easy. Then there are times when I can feel as though I have lost dear friends.  Surely looking them up one more time can't hurt. The last couple of months, those years of addiction have again looked bare to me. This too shall pass.

And there is a winter—places in my consciousness that are dark, largely inaccessible as yet, and rightly so. In that darkness, something is being seeded.  The miracle of creation is at work and it requires that darkness for germination to take place effectively. Spirit is wise to keep it's plans for me veiled at times.  Perhaps, if I could see them now, I'd either scare myself to death or seek to take them over and make a mess of the wonder of divine creation and inspiration.

As you run today, connect with the season you are running in and explore it as a reflection of your own way of being in the world, of your own experience.  And then, as you run, journey deeper into the landscape of your awareness to find all your seasons, your spring, summer, fall, and winter.  Appreciate each one of them for the many blessings, both seen and unseen that they bring.

 

Running Partners, Part 4

Last week, I laid out an invitation that was, in reality, a thinly-veiled challenge: Either join me as a runner/fundraiser participating with Team in Training (there's a TNT group near you!) or as a sponsor. Or even both!

The donations continue to roll in, and I have been joined in training and fundraising out on the roads by my friend Marie. Welcome Marie! Marie owns the locally world famous Shore Books in Long Beach, a fiercely independent bookstore that also showcases some of the leading artists, writers, and designers in the Long Beach and South Bay area.

She'll be opening a second location in Long Beach in January 2008, such is the demand for her unique blend of good old-fashioned attentive service, knowledgeable staff, and leading edge titles and events. Local, national, and international authors are frequent visitors to her store.

So, if you are buying inspirational books for your running (and other?!) friends this holiday season, you can order online through her website, and have any title shipped to you direct. When you speak to her, give her a "Go Team!" from me (that's our Team in Training mantra :-)

Giving is a Lie

OK! So a line in yesterday's blog entry seems to have created quite a response. I had said, This is one of the best kept secrets around: giving is a lie!

I stand by that and here's why. All the times that I have truly, fully, unconditionally given—whether from my heart, my wallet, my time, or my dinner plate (Hey, I'm an only child. I still don;t share my food well :-), it seems that I get more in return. Apparently, it's unavoidable.

When I tithe 10% percent of my income, my business seems to thrive in unexpected an wonderful ways. (For more information and ideas on tithing, click here.) During the years of service I was privileged to be able to give at the University of Santa Monica, assisting the remarkable graduate students studying for their degrees in Spiritual Psychology, I came away from each weekend with my heart overflowing with gratitude—wiser, clearer, and more deeply aware of my connection to Spirit. Such experiences are priceless. And no credit card required.

The joy, humor, inspiration, and service consciousness that I enjoy and share with my Team in Training group in Long Beach is a profoundly life-affirming experience—amplifying the inherent gifts i receive through my running. I had sought to give back through my running by joining team in training, but, yet again, I seem to be receiving more than I am giving.

In the end, I realize, I can not outgive Spirit. For giving is not what the Spirit does. It is what Spirit is.

Running Partners, Part 3

A gentle eight miles this morning along the L.A. river—my current regular stomping ground. The air is a little dirty today as the second round of Malibu fires is scorching lands to the north of Long Beach and Los Angeles. As I write, they are contained. Clearing completed, it seems.

Today's run, while "alone," included a fun new component. I am now taking with me a precious piece of paper that energizes my commitment in profound ways. How is it that a piece of paper can do this? It contains a growing list of those who have stepped forward to donate money via my marathon training to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

I figured, Hey, I'm training for a marathon anyway, why not add a service component to that training too? Now, my goal includes raising several thousand dollars too. It's an ever-spiraling upward cycle of giving. I love that!

So now, I no longer train alone. I carry the willingness, compassion, intentionality, and active citizenship of all those supporting my fundraising. Wow! Our collective hearts are aligning to make a real difference, and we all get to benefit in the process.

This is one of the best kept secrets around: giving is a lie! More on that another day.

This inner conversation between running "alone" and running in a group has found new ground in me this week. Last weekend's dolphins have been on my mind.

After several weeks training with the fabulous Long Beach Team in Training group, it seems that I am the quickest of the troops. There are some quicker trainers, including the radical Todd who runs barefoot! But amongst the body of runners in our group, I find myself out in front.

I had toyed with the idea of using L.A. as a qualifying marathon for Boston. But if I do that, I'll be running alone on our Saturday training runs, seeking to build a faster and faster pace and more strength. Already, I'm enjoying the camaraderie of a group run in my schedule. I cherish my solo runs during the week, but with this group, this service focus, these individuals, it's divine.

So for me, the stretch is to slow down. "To be in a hurry," says inspirational career coach Rick Jarow, "is a symptom of scarcity." I would rather run L.A. with my crew, encouraging each other on, and, amongst other things, hear about Tiffany's love life and Kimberley's intense work as a police officer at LAX.

There is indeed richness in slowing down, connecting, and celebrating the diversity, beauty, and courage of the human spirit. So from here on, my L.A. Marathon goals are no longer time-based. They are joy-based.

Running Partners, Part 2

I return from a wonderful family trip to San Diego to visit with my in-laws during the week of Thanksgiving. As I return to my e-mail box, I find that there is still more to be grateful for—a plethora of generous donations in support of Team in Training.

Whenever possible, my trips to San Diego include one of my all time favorite runs: a long, early morning run from Torrey Pines park to La Jolla and back. It’s a round trip of around 12 or 13 miles that includes some of California’s most beautiful coastline.

As I head out on my long run there this week, the early morning wind was cold and the tide was so high that I had to scrabble across the rocks in a couple of places to get around to the next stretch of beach. I was reminded that for the greatest of adventures in all aspects of life, it’s required to get my feet wet!

I was also rewarded with the beautiful sight of seals playing in the waves, and then, a few moments later, a pod of a dozen or so dolphins effortlessly arching their way up the coast. The sight of animals simply being themselves—of being so radically, fully, and completely alive—added an extra spring in my step. These experiences remind me that I gain the most from my running when I am immersed IN it, rather than running THROUGH it. A lesson that applies, of course, to any situation I am in.

Thank you to all of you who support my running in so may ways. For those of you sponsoring in my fundraising/training for the LA Marathon this year, another heartfelt thank you: for the gift of your giving and for adding your energy to my service goals for the next three months. It’s truly a blessing to have you as a running partner :-)

Running Partners, Part I

I get SO much delight from my running. In fact, if I really wanted to—if I put my mind to it—I could probably work myself up to feel guilty about it. But I'll skip that option!

Instead of that, I'm going to continue to do what I have always done—put my heart into it. And for the next three months, that will include a wonderful new component:

As I train for the March 2008 L.A. Marathon, I will also be doing so as a part of a wonderful organization, Team in Training.

I'll be logging miles with the Long Beach crew, all of us lending our hearts, legs, intentionality, and creative fundraising abilities to a remarkable goal: to carry Team in Training's fundraising total to date past the $1billion mark. Why? To continue realizing its mission of curing leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin's disease and myeloma, and improving the quality of life of patients and their families.

I'm inviting you (well, perhaps it would be more accurate to say "challenging you") to join me. Either as a runner/fundraiser (there's a TNT group near you!) or as a sponsor. Or even both!

You can make a donation using the easy-to-use donation page TnT has set aside for me, and which launches today. And I'll be carrying the growing list of donors with me on every training run — you'll be joining me for between 25 and 40 miles a week!

At the start of every run, my prayer is that you all share in the blessings that are at the heart of my running: immense joy, inspiration, balancing, clearing, and connection with Spirit. Together, not only the funds we raise but also the love we share will be making a real difference in our world.

And I add my own heartfelt thanks to Team in Training for creating such a wonderful way to be of service while I do one of the things I love to do most!

Wishing all of you a happy, healthy, and joy-filled holiday season.

Reach Through the Smoke

First of all, I add my prayers to those who pray for rain. Who pray for the safety of all those touched by California's fires.

As a runner, these are not easy days. I have been amazed to see many folks out running under the dirty, pomegranate skies. I scratch my bald head.

For me, the past several days of fires have brought dense dirty air to my hometown of Long Beach. My body, especially my respiratory system, rebels. "Hey!" it shouts. "I was born to breathe gases not solids." It took until 2 a.m. last night to finally cough up the latest fragment lodged in my lungs. I fell asleep exhausted.

Three, now four days with no running. Hardly being able to leave the house. Hermetically sealed. Not pleasant. These are not easy days for those runners who stay inside. And as uncomfortable as it is, I encourage all of you to stay inside. Stretch, do yoga, meditate, get on a treadmill. Stay inside. Ah yes, stay inside.

Tired from lack of sleep, frustrated from no running, concerned about my relatives evacuated from their San Diego homes, I begin to look down into the start of a downward spiral. And then I came across this quote attributed to Guan Yin, the Chinese bodhisattva of compassion, as I was seeking to find a positive focus.

"Let the magic happen. It's always there. Abundance and love are always there. Believe in the highest good. There is a higher essence to everything. The realm you're in has a heaviness that mutes energy. You can penetrate through it, no matter how dark and heavy. Sometimes it has nothing to do with karma. Just don't forget to keep it open. Don't get too bogged down, don't limit the brightness. Reach through the dark energy and grab it. You might see the smoke coming out of the chimney and you'll even see the smoky sky. You need to reach through the smoke and bring the light to you. Remember the possibilities of something greater then are right here. Be willing to go to the lightness. Don't feed off what is not right in the world."
Kuan Yin
Source: The Living Word of Kuan Yin

Nice words, for sure. But I needed more than "positive thinking." I'm searching for the experience of my inherent positivity. I read the quote again. And again. And again. Then, instead of reading it, I follow it. I reach through the smoke rather than focusing on it. And there it is, in its beautiful simplicity. Beyond the smoke is my next breath. All those hours, days, years, or unencumbered breathing taken for granted. The daily miracle taking place, literally, right under my nose! The miracle of being breathed——for that is what is really happening, no? Try breathing as an active verb and see how long you sustain it.

Is it a coincidence that as I have been immersed in gratitude for the inimitable gift of breath that my breathing has eased? I think not. I am filled to overflowing by the simple gift of breath.

As I feed off what is right in the world, I invite you to join me in the feast. Perhaps our cumulative tears of gratitude can bring rain . . .

Running Can Be a Real Beach

(As printed in the Long Beach Grunion Gazette)

As a child growing up in landlocked Ethiopia, new marathon world-record holder, Haile Gebrselassie (who recently covered the 26.2 miles in 2 hours, 4 minutes) used to run ten kilometers to and from school every day. This apparently has led to his distinctive running posture, with his left arm crooked as if still holding his schoolbooks!

Conversely, I have done much of my marathon training and running in the last fifteen years along the Long Beach waterfront, and without schoolbooks. As I run at the water’s edge, without fail, the ebb and flow of both tide and time ensures that the beach looks a little different each time.

In the peak of relentless summer, the beach looks her most manicured. Before the major holiday weekends, the city sends out trucks that comb the sand flat, evening out any dips and bumps the wind may have caused, and clearing away debris that has washed up on the shore. In the early mornings, the beach can be cool, hazy, and quiet, populated only by the occasional homeless person, or a chanting monk from the Long Beach monastery across Ocean Boulevard. On long summer evenings, she can be noisy and talkative, the boardwalk filled with runners, walkers, skaters, cyclists, and couples walking arm in arm.

We are now approaching my favorite time of year for running: crisp, cool mornings, dew-softened lawns and misty vistas. Beautiful! In the coming winter months, the beach will show her character, especially after a passing storm. She’ll look disheveled and windswept, even messy. Tree trunks, seaweed, and miscellaneous flotsam and jetsam from passing ships will scatter the high water mark. The air fills with salt from the whipped-up sea. As haggard as the beach can look at these times, she feels vibrant, animated, and alive. Sometimes the wind can be blowing so hard that I wonder if she isn’t trying to give me the experience of taking flight!

No matter how the beach is, no matter what her mood, I am simply happy that she is there to welcome my feet along her shoreline, to play chicken with the rising and falling of her sea, to listen to the lap of the waves as I run at the water’s edge. As the rhythm of my run becomes meditation, she cleanses my spirit.

Sometimes, I can thrive in her company when I can stand no one else’s—not even my own. No matter what my mood, she greets me just as I am. There is nothing that I need to do or be. I feel seen and accepted in a way that inspires me to see myself and others in a more compassionate way. Spending time in the generous, accepting presence of the beach is always healing for me. I come home with a more loving view of myself, and I am more willing to extend that loving perspective to others.

It is, perhaps, this innately loving and compassionate presence that draws us all to the ocean, to stand at her feet and reflect upon the ocean inside of us as we seek to navigate its occasionally-stormy waters or find ourselves stuck in a directionless calm.

I know that I, for one, am grateful for the wonderful mystery lady in my life that is our Long Beach shoreline. I anticipate that this will be an affair that lasts a lifetime.

Go a Little Beserk!

My fellow 18,000 participants in next month’s Long Beach Marathon know this, and it’s just as true for non-runners. Whether applied to a marathon, a business, or your life, there are essentially two kinds of running: “running from” and “running to.”

Years ago, I found myself looking out from a prison cell in London’s infamous Wormwood Scrubs prison. Craning my neck against the barred window, I was just able to see the corner of an expansive park beyond the prison walls. Compared to the drab grays that permeated my cell, the green grass looked more than simply alive—it seemed to represent life itself. I closed my eyes and imagined running across the park, breathing hard, free to roam.

At that stage, any running I had done had been entirely of the “running from” variety: from police at street demonstrations; ahead of foxhounds and huntsmen, seeking to throw them off the scent of their prey; and, of course, from myself, my life, and my responsibilities.

As I peered between the prison bars, I knew it was time for change. “When I get out of here,” I said to myself, “I want to put my head on the pillow at the end of each day, knowing I have made the very most of that day that I can.”

The journey from “the Scrubs” to Long Beach is a story for another day. It’s a good one, including a chance meeting in a small English village, six months of in-depth interviews at the American embassy explaining my colorful past, and an apartment wedding facilitated by an inebriated minister found in the Yellow Pages!

After immigrating to America, I discovered the power of running anew: as an agent of change. But for a former 60-a-day smoker, addict, and alcoholic, running even a mile initially seemed a tall order. Then I discovered the running world’s philosopher writer, Dr. George Sheehan.

“If you want to win anything—a race, yourself, your life—you have to go a little berserk,” he wrote. That was something I could work with. One mile became five; five became ten; ten became a first marathon.

Most of my thousands of miles have been logged on the Long Beach shoreline or on the horse trail that runs next to the L.A. river. Along the way, my running has become the “running to” kind. As I have run towards the life I want, my life’s greatest challenges have been unable to keep pace. Addictions, broken promises, missed opportunities, and bad habits and moods have all been washed away by the sweat of a good run.

It’s no secret. Numerous studies show that exercise stimulates neurotransmitters (serotonin, dopamine, epinephrine, and beta-endorphin), which elevate mood and reduce depression and anxiety. Get enough of them and you’ll experience what’s known as runner’s high. In a recent test at Penn State University, Jeffrey Freemont and Dr. Linda W. Craighead showed that exercise can be just as effective as individual therapy in treating depression.

In the rhythm of my runs, however, I have found something more than a runner’s high. I’ve found new ways of seeing the world—a more peaceful way of being. It feeds me as a father, as a husband, in my work as a business and life coach, as a mentor, and as a member of my community.

For you it may not be running. It may be walking, dancing, roller-blading, kayaking, yoga, or lawn bowling. Whatever your preference, a regular commitment to physical exercise offers a foundation for life transformation. It builds the mental muscles required to establish dominion in consciousness at all levels. It enhances the ability to responsibly pursue favorable emotions as well as the early elimination of negative ones.

Along with my fellow runners in the Long Beach Marathon, I’ll no longer be running from anything. I’ll be running towards the very best I can be.

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.

The Shoes Go on Your Feet . . .

When I get ready for a run, I put my running shoes on my feet, not on my head.

It seems self-evident. As a result of a good workout, I feel refreshed, focused, and inspired. And after a run, my thinking is clearer, more creative, and positively focused. Not the other way around.

If I am confused, overwhelmed, frustrated, or angry, I don't try and think my way out of my dilemmas and challenges, and then go for a run. I run, and the answers come as a result. I run my way into a new way of seeing my situation. Or, put another way, I live my way into a new way of thinking, as opposed to trying to think way way into a new way of living.

All too often, I live subscribing to the "I think therefore I am" school of thought (pun intended!). When life deals me a problem, I think about it hard and long. I've developed an enormous mental muscle over the years, and it's a little like the economy—I pretend I know what I am doing with it and that I can tinker with it just so to make it work. But the truth is, more often than not, it's running wild, in the driving seat, and heading in its own chosen direction.

Einstein is quoted as saying, "No problem can be solved from the same level of consciousness that created it." Trying to think my way out of a problem with the same mind that created it is busy work. That's why running can be so powerful. And consciousness is as much about "being" as doing or thinking.

Before you go for a run today, notice if there is a particular item in your life that you are seeing as a problem or a difficulty. As you prepare for your run, think about that problem and any frustration that you are experiencing with it. Then, just before you set out for your run, place the problem on the ground somewhere in a specific place. I actually act this out, and you can just do it in your mind's eye if that feels less crazy!

Leave your problem sitting there on the ground, and go for your workout. As you run, be as present with yourself as you can. Really listen to your feet and their rhythm as they converse with the ground. If you listen acutely, you may even be able to pick out the sounds of your laces tapping against your shoes as you run.

Listen and immerse yourself in your surroundings. Don't through your environment, run IN it. Become a part of it. Live in it. Every ten minutes, stop and walk for one minute. As you stop to walk, feel your heart beating, feel the sweat on your skin as your body works to cool you. Marvel at the wonder of your body and the experiences it can give you in your running.

If you remember if at all (and often I walk right past it), notice your problem on the ground when you return. Notice how much smaller it feels as you approach it from the expanded consciousness of your run. If answers have not already come as a part of your workout, you may well find that they pop up throughout your day as a result of your choosing to lift your own consciousness.

This is almost always the most effective way to first approach a thinking level problem. Stay in the same mind, and you'll stay in the same problem. Create a new mind, and you'll create a new answer.

Turn Up The Heat!

As part of my professional business coaching work, I had the good fortune to fly to Phoenix this last weekend to participate in a powerhouse mastermind group facilitated by master coach Steve Chandler. This group of 20 entrepreneurs, CEOs, coaches, motivational writers, and innovative business leaders will be meeting each month to create our next projects and bring them to the world. It promises to be quite a year!

It was my first visit to Phoenix, and I was hungry (even though staying just overnight) to get in a run in this new setting. The Marriott staff directed me to a canal park run about a half mile from the hotel, and I set out just as the sun was setting.

I'd arrived in the late afternoon, with temperatures in triple digits—a little over 104 degrees. Having now lived in the US for 15 years, my English blood has accustomed well to California temperatures in the 70s, 80, and occasional 90s. Triple digits, however, still seems pretty hot!

Phoenix heat is dry. Real dry. And I was happy to have my water pack even though I was mostly running after sunset. A 10k+ distance would take me to the end of the canal path and back, and when I stopped at the turn, even my forearms were running with sweat. As my trainer often says, "If your body is using your forearms to cool you down, you know you are working hard!"

I thought of the gentleman from Boeing that I had met on the flight in from LAX, a Phoenix resident and runner, who had shared with me his weekly running experiences in the hills around his home. Hot, dry, intimidating desert running. For him, it came naturally. We joked about how if he ran on my 70-degree California beaches, it would be so easy compared to his desert workouts. We talked about the value that competitive athletes gain from high-altitude training, and the edge it gives hem when they compete at sea-level.

And as I stretched out at the half-way point and peered into the canal waters plunging into a run-off gully as I did, I saw how the Steve Chandler Mastermind group offers me the same training. How it offers all of us a premium professional "workout" environment. Our combined presence turns up the heat, brings us to creative boil quicker, ignites the catalyst of creativity in different and more powerful ways.

As runners, we can sometimes settle into a routine of a regular running route, or a selection of perhaps two or three that we choose from again and again. Familiar territory that we could almost run with our eyes closed. We know those routes well enough to dominate them and after a while, they cease to stretch us.

At least once this week, peel off your regular running route and head out into unfamiliar territory. Let go the concerns about knowing exactly how much distance you have run, precisely what your mile splits are, or the comfort and belonging that comes with seeing those familiar faces along the way.

And as you push on into new surroundings, you may well experience the creative temperature rise inside of you. New routes bring new creativity in response to new challenges. New opportunities birthed from the new information and experiences that come from running in unknown territory. A new route demands in-the-moment, unprepared choices: unexpected turns, hills, and changes in running surface, as well as new faces and places to enjoy.

As you run your new route, ask yourself how you might be doing the same in your wider life—in your relationships, in your work, in your spiritual life? Are there opportunities in these and other areas to move out of your comfort zone and re-ignite the joy that comes from engaging with the unexpected, for as you do, you will connect with the undiscovered parts in you, and all the inspiration, joy, and creativity that they can offer.

Turn up the heat and move other areas of your life into new territory, and what was previously challenging will become a breeze, what before seemed impossible will come into reach. You'll discover that the "impossible" is where God likes to play!

Billy's Boots—New Shoes . . . New Attitude!

This month, I had the joyous experience that comes around every three to four months of buying a new pair of running shoes. My local store of choice, Runner's High in Long Beach, lets shoppers take prospective new shoes for a spin around the block to get a good sense of how they feel. Now that's service. And each time I go through this sacred process of test running a new pair of shoes, I am transported back to the same place in my childhood.

When I was a young boy, around 7 to 10, one of my favorite comic strips in England was called, "Billy's Boots." The story revolved around Billy Dane, a school-aged aspiring soccer player. (Of course at that time, I considered him a "football" player before I moved to the US.) Anyway, our Billy was an extremely poor player until he found a pair of old soccer boots while cleaning his grandmother's loft. The boots, which his grandfather had bought as a souvenir, had once belonged to the famous striker "Dead Shot" Keen. The boots possessed magical powers, which turned Billy into a fantastic soccer player. In addition to giving him the physical skill to score great goals, the boots also granted him the intuition to always be in the right place at the time on the pitch, leading him to feel that they have a "mind of their own".

Now a big question still rages as to whether the boots were, in fact, magical - or if they simply gave Billy a psychological boost that allowed him to play to his full potential. And as I have been running these last few days, I wonder if the same is true of my new shoes. Sure, they have the support and cushioning that comes with their being new. Yet, somehow inside of me, I feel new, too. Running as I often do along the dusty horse trail along the LA River near where I live, they don't stay clean for too long, but lacing on a new pair of gleaming running shoes does feel magical. I just feel better inside. Stronger, more prepared, faster even. And my times prove it. with my new shoes, I seem to have a whole new spring-cleaned attitude about my running. My commitment goes up, my willingness to stretch myself during my workouts increases, etc, etc.

So I got to wondering this morning, if I couldn't do the same elsewhere in my life. If, in those (of course, very occasional!) moments when my attitude sucks, if I couldn't just pull on a new attitude like a new pair of shoes. Well, I have to say that I've been trying it and it has been working well! When I get into that tight place inside my head—perhaps I'm asked to do something I hadn't planned into my day and the whole world has momentarily toppled off its axis—I take a moment to visualize myself pulling on my brand new pair of Adidas Supernova shoes, gleaming white with orange accents.

And as I do, I can feel how Billy did. I open to the magic inside of me that is represented by the shoes. New shoes, new attitude. Stronger, more flexible, guided by magical forces! Walking through this image in my mind helps me remember that I get to choose my attitude in any given moment; that I can take action inside so that outside everything is right with me, and I am cruising along in life on an attitude that supports and cushions me.

Now that's a pair of "shoes" we can all use!

June 4: Happy New Year!

Remember the flush of excitement that came around with the New Year? Resolutions made in earnest for change? This will be the year that . . . Well, here we are, about to come to the half-way point in the year. How have you been doing?

If you have already accomplished your New Year's resolutions, Congratulations! You garage is cleared, the car serviced regularly, and a definitive vacation booked for this year. That's the attraction of "doing" goals—you do them and they are, well, done! The Basic Self gets to check them off and feel that wonderful sense of completion. Next!

Of course, a little more elusive are the "being" goals. Little, perhaps, in the same way that the captain of the Titanic might have said, "Is that a little iceberg out there?" Being goals offer ongoing opportunities for improvement. They are more of a journey than a destination in the way that doing goals can be. More of a process than an event.

I remember one of mine was to spend more quality time with my family. And I have certainly made strides in that direction. But as I ran early on Saturday morning and thought about my New Year's intentions, I recognized that I had not yet managed to put aside all my work, hobby, and school obligations for an entire weekend this year. There had always been an hour's reading here, an extra workout there, or a handful of e-mails that just had to be handled.

As I ran, I began telling myself that it was New Year's Day. Today. After all, there is no such thing as time; isn't that what the scientists tell us? I mean, I can make this any day I want, right? And as I began to tell myself it was New Year's Day, as I continued to ask myself, "If this was New Year's Day, what my intentions for the coming year be?" I found that creative, inspirational, possibility-filled energy that can come with the first day of the year starting to course through my body.

I learned two things as I did this "New Year's" workout in early June. First, if I'm looking for a personal best time, pretend it's the first day of the year—try it and see how you strip minutes of your time!

Second, I learned that New Year's Day is a myth—and that's a good thing. Why? Because, the place inside of me that I allow myself to go on New Year's day is available throughout the year! It has nothing to do with the calendar, it is about the choices I make as to what I am willing to believe is possible in my life. January 1, June 4, November 5. Whenever.

As you work out today, allow yourself to invoke the imaginative, forward-focused, positive thinker who began the year. No need to focus on what is undone, more importantly focus on what you'd like to get done in the second half of the year. Even if, like me, one of your doing goals is to do less!

After a wonderfully relaxing weekend with my family without any work, study, or other interruptions, I awoke refreshed, inspired, and ready to go . . . to enjoy my next New Year's Day! In fact, from now on, there is only going to be one day in my year. Or, more accurately, 365 New Year's days!

The Balance of Movement

A few weeks ago, my wife bought me a gift of a set of training sessions at our local gym. I confess that I have never been interested in lifting weights, etc. Though I read about the value of cross-training every week in one of the many running and fitness magazines that my wife and I bring home, it just hasn't captured my imagination. I'm a runner after all. I want to be moving, to be outside, and to be choosing my own direction. Me? A control freak? Never!

So it has been quite the revelation to give myself over to the experience of working with a trainer and discovering how much I enjoy it! Much of the work we do is strength building, and also brings in a balance component. So, I'm not just listing weights, I'm lifting weights balanced on a Bosu ball.

It was as I was warming up on the treadmill one morning, when my trainer, Scott, (who insists that I walk, not run—Grr!) commented to me after I wobbled slightly as I took the long, loping strides that he encourages me to take: "That's OK," he said. "The more you are moving your body, the more able you are to adjust to sudden changes."

I would have stopped dead in my tracks, except that doing so would have catapulted me off the treadmill. Sure, that's a good laugh to everyone else, but the bruises are mine! I notice those moments when I hear a piece of information that seems especially important. In those moments, I envision the information as a pizza (I know, weird, but I worked in the pizza industry for almost ten years), and I slide it into the hot oven of my consciousness to cook for a while.

This morning, it came out nice and crispy and ready to "eat." Sure, the more I move my body, the more flexible I am. But not just physically flexible, but emotionally and mentally too. And, more available to Spirit as well.

Yet, often the way that we respond to problems in life is to stop moving. We become more sedentary, sitting and mulling. We become more rigid in our thinking as a reflection of that, too; we become attached to being "right," to holding onto our position. And as we do so, we become less available emotionally, and we close ourselves off from God, who, after all, has thrown this spanner into our carefully machined lives, right?

Even if the two seem unrelated, I offer you that physical movement is the FIRST thing to do when you run into difficulties. Even if you reckon you have to think out a problem, or have someone validate your feelings about it before you can move ahead, move ahead first. Literally.

Get outside and walk, run, cycle, swim, jump up and down, or even take a ride on the swings at the park. Physical movement will move the energy that is stuck in you, return you to a more flexible state of mind, and blanche you emotionally. And it can open you to the inspiration of Spirit.

As Curtis Mayfield inspired us, "Move on up, and peace you'll find."

Are You Typecast?

This last week, I had the good fortune to be required to watch the movie Crash once again. Required? Yes! As part of my ongoing studies in the Counseling Psychology Program at the University of Santa Monica, watching this movie was part of our monthly home assignments, this one focusing on the experience of different cultural groups.

Living in L.A. as I do, I get to experience many differing ethnic groups. Many of the largest expatriate communities live in the Los Angeles area. The largest Indian population outside of India. And Korean, and Chinese, and so on. For me, this is all good news. I have the ability to travel around the world and immerse myself in numerous different cultural experiences—foods, movies, music, festivals, and more, without leaving the city I live in!

But that's not why I write today. As powerful exploration or race, power, morality, and personal responsibility as the movie is, it was one particular role that stood out to me as I reviewed the movie in my run this morning—the role that Sandra Bullock played as Jean Cabot.

Now, true enough, I have had a crush on Sandra Bullock for ten years or so, so perhaps it was no accident that my mind wandered to her as I ran. What stood out to me is that her role (a more serious, depthful, angry, and soulful one) was so different than what she typically plays.

Over the years, she has been typecast as the funny girl: a little dipsy, cutesy, clumsy. I've never liked her in those roles, aw lays sensing that there was more available from her, if only she, or her agent, or the director would be willing to bring it forward. In Crash we get to see it.

And it got me thinking. How do I typecast myself? What ways of being in the world have become habits in my life? And if I was to hire a new, bolder, more courageous inner "director" for my life, what role could I place myself in that would stretch me? Give me the opportunity to really step into a fuller life?

As you run today, I encourage you to ask yourself these questions. It's not a matter of finding solutions, but rather allowing yourself to run with the questions, allowing the space inside for them to bounce around inside of you. Your running creates the space for the answer to arise within in you if you let it.

For me, I came to notice that there are definitely ways that I typecast myself. one of the main ones is as an "English man." I have bought into the perceived requirements for me to be reserved, to keep a lid on my emotions, both the joy and the sadness and all points in between; to be serious, to plan, and to be suspicious of spontaneity, just to name a few!

As I showered and reviewed this slew of information, I was inspired by a new idea about my "role" in this life. Perhaps that inspiration came from the big "Director" upstairs, Spirit! So my intention going forward is to let some of those spontaneous thoughts, ideas, and feelings out of the bag, to pick and choose what I like about my english heritage, and leave behind the rest.

What new role might you be willing to stretch into?

Home is Where the Heart is

For many of us, there are at least a few times in the year when we run for our own survival. Whether it is an argument with our spouse, lover, children, or the latest talking head on the television, something has enraged us. If we don't get our running shoes on quickly and get out of the door, we'll either say or do something we'll regret.

It feels good to burn off that energy in a good strong run — and we need to be careful that in our hi-fuel mood we still make time to do all we can to preserve our long-term running health by warming up a little (even if it feels like we are burning up already!).

"I just need to get out of the house!" is the feeling, isn't it? Yet, often just the run itself seems to soothe us and when we return to the same house—the one that we just HAD to get out of—and we see it differently. Somehow, somewhere along our run, that "house" became, once again, our "home."

How is that? Well, as the old saying goes, home is where the heart is. And as we run, we often rediscover the majesty, tranquility, and peace of our hearts. I think, deep down, it is why most of us run—it's the fastest route many of us know to the very best of who we are.

Of course, this transformation of how we see our home/house, or indeed any part or all of the rest of the world, does not need to be reserved for those "survival runs." In fact, I find some of my most powerful running meditations begin with focusing on the destination of my run, which is also the starting point—my home!

Where do I want to return to? I ask myself as I warm up. What do I want to focus on when I return? Do I want to focus on the irritation about the dishes in the sink, the lock on the door that needs fixing, or that bag of diapers that needs to be dealt with? Or do I want to focus on the gratitude I have for the wife and daughter I live with, the love we share, and the joy we often create amongst us.

As you run today, focus on the home you want to return to as you run—the experience you want to live in when you return home. With each step, bring that vision alive in your heart, feel it strengthening and expanding as you run. You are a home builder—you are the architect of your experience of your home, your world, your life. You get to choose how you are on the inside and then carry that with you into your outer world.

I sometimes think, as I am running, of November 4, 1979, when American embassy officials in Tehran began a hostage experience that lasted 444 days. The must have often wondered if they would ever go home at all. As I run, I imagine that if I was separated from my family for more than 15 months, even that diaper bag could be smelling pretty good to me when I returned—a simple representation of life and shared living that I'd have wondered if I would ever return to.

Sometimes we hold ourselves hostage in rage, judgment, or some other strong feeling much longer than we need to. Hence our survival runs.

When we get beyond survival and step into creativity, we discover that we can create the home that we want to experience much more effectively by building it in ourselves first—in the territory of our hearts, upon a foundation built of acceptance, compassion, and loving.

History is Dead. Long Live History!

In the early 1990's Francis Fukuyama stunned the world with his writings that challenged the very way that history itself was understood. He argued that the end of the Cold War and the universalization of democracy signaled the end of history itself. Whether or not that is the case is the subject of ongoing conversation.

But the shock with which the world greeted the possibility was, and continues to be, a powerful illustration of how important history seems to be to us all as individuals. After all, if I had no history, no past, how could I define myself? Who would I be?

Exactly!

To quote George Bernard Shaw, "Hegel was right when he said that we learn from history that man can never learn anything from history."

Your history is exactly that: your story. Your story of who you think you are, good and bad. And wrapped up in all of that is what you think you can and can't do, can and can't have, can and can't ask for, and much, much more.

What if you left all of that out with the trash tonight and began creating yourself anew in the morning?

That voice in your head, right now, that says, "That's all great talk, but I can't really do that." Yes, that one, it's part of your story, too. I believe it was Plato who argued that "those who tell the stories rule society." Well, who is telling the stories inside of you?

As you run today, make sure that you run an entirely new route, one that is unfamiliar to you as much as possible. If you usually run in the mornings, run in the afternoon, or at night, or all three. If you are used to running for 40 minutes, run for an hour, or ten minutes. Or walk for fifteen minutes in the middle of your run. If you are out on a beach of large, safe expanse of land, run backwards, or with your eyes closed if you think it's safe. Sing as you run, shout if you want to. For heaven's sake, mix it up.

My story was a wonderfully important one. It involved pain and suffering, beatings as a child, alcohol and drug addiction, etc, etc. And when that wasn't not my story, winning over all those influences was. It was not until I let go of all of that that a sudden, new question leapt out at me, like a shiny penny on the sidewalk.

Not, "Who am I? Not, "What have I become?" Not even, "What can I become?" Simply, "What do I want to become?" Want to. If I could be any way that I wanted in the world, how would I be?

Now that's a trail worth running.

The Taste of Freedom

One summer’s day in June, about 15 years ago, I looked out of my jail cell in England’s infamous Wormwood Scrubs Prison in London. Craning my neck against the barred window, I was just able to see the corner of a large expanse of grass beyond the prison walls. Compared to the drab grays that permeated my cell and the prison as a whole, the grass looked more than alive—it seemed to represent life itself. I closed my eyes and imagined running across the park, breathing hard, free to roam.

In that moment, I said to myself, “When I get out of here, I want to lay my head on the pillow at the end of each and every day, knowing I made the most of that day that I could.”

At that stage in my life, I had run a little: from the police at street demonstrations; ahead of foxhounds seeking to throw them off the scent of their prey; and, of course, from myself. When I arrived in America, I discovered the power of running anew: as an agent of change.

A former 60-a-day smoker and alcoholic, running even a mile seemed a tall order. But one mile became five; five became ten; ten became a first marathon. Over the last 15 years, running has been the foundation upon which I have built a new life—a life as a husband, father, writer, and life coach and seminar leader.

Many mornings as I run free alongside the Los Angeles river or at the water’s edge between the Long Beach marina and the end of the peninsula, I think of those months of imprisonment. As I do, the fresh air in my lungs tastes a little sweeter.

And as I run, I consider a powerful question: “Is there any way in which I am ‘imprisoning’ myself now?” And usually there is. There is some way in which I see that I am confining myself, choosing to live at less than my best.

Perhaps I haven’t listened to those I care for most as well as I could. Maybe it would have been bigger (and wiser) of me to have let that other driver in front of me on the freeway rather than accelerate to push him out; maybe it could be me that calls first to reconnect with friend who has been out of touch for a while. I notice that as I consider all these courses of action, my heart softens.

As you run (or walk, swim, cycle, skate, kayak, etc!) next time, I invite you to consider the same question. If there is one thing that you are doing or being that you recognize is holding you back from a life of greater joy, love, and fulfillment, set the intention—fight there in the midst of the expansion of your workout—to change your behavior and set yourself free.

I’ll see you on the “outside!”

Doing God's Work

Rev. Michael Beckwith has a wonderful phrase that goes something like this: "We are made in the image and likeness of God . . . and have been attempting to return the favor ever since!"

In the last month, as I shared earlier, I let go of my daytime job. A job that I loved dearly. A job that I used sometimes to define myself. Certainly, as I have been adjusting to this change, there has been a big re-calibration taking place in my life. I feel some of the aches and pains that had been hidden in my maxed-out schedule. 40 hours at work; book promotion; coaching clients. In amongst all of these, exercise, meditation, and family time had become other tasks to check off.

Today, I have much more space in my life, for family, meditation, for quiet time, and, yes, for running! And, interestingly, I find that there are times when this space can close in on me. I get bursts of fear. How will I manage financially? Am I just being lazy? Am I deluding myself? I must get up and do, do, DO!

As Neale Donald Walsch shared as a part of his Commencement Address at the University of Santa Monica's Graduation ceremonies in 2005 (you can hear part of this address here), "We can do our dance of doing all we want; doing this and doing that; doing this and doing that; and winding up with a great big pile of do-do!"

I see my need to keep doing all that time as an ego-driven desire to do God's work. It is not my place to know HOW my life will unfold. That is God's work, as I see it. My place is to follow my heart, the inspiration I receive, and live in integrity. I am trusting that Spirit will handle the rest.

So what did I do this morning? I lay on the couch for an hour with my two-year-old fast asleep in my arms. And as I watched her eyelids flutter in dreamland and listened to her soft breath and deep, peaceful sighs as she journeyed deeper into her sleep, I did some of the hardest work I've done in months—allowed my heart to stretch and accommodate the love that rose in my heart.

Now that is work worth doing!

Space—The Final Frontier

For the last week or so as I have run, I have had as my running partner information I have been gathering from a remarkable book, Addiction and Grace, by Gerald May, M.D. This information has been ruminating in my heart as well as my mind for many different reasons. As a recovering addict from a number of varieties of addictions, I find any material that puts those addictive experiences in a spiritual context greatly assists my in moving to a greater level of understanding and acceptance about my own past choices. I have come to that marvelously nuanced place where I wonder if I would have stepped onto the path of spiritual growth as soon as I had, if I had not been an addict.

But this last week, one piece of information has stood out of my ruminations. As I am sure many of you have experienced, this morning I heard a piece of information that I had heard many times before, but for some unknown reason, THIS morning, it found its mark for me. I guess I was ready to hear it!

May, in also explaining the cellular experience of addiction, starts by noting that he still tries to "grasp the fact that the atoms that make it [the human body] up are almost completely filled with space."

At the heart of the design, I thought, of not just our own bodies, but for the vast majority universe itself, there is space. Oodles of space. That space is at the heart of a successfully functioning body, life, and universe. A requirement even. Hard coded if you will.

And yet, this is not what I see in my life most of the time, nor on the freeway, nor in the lives of many, or most, of the individuals I know in my life. And it is one of the prime goals of many of the clients I work with as a life coach. Breathing space. Living space. Loving space.

And yet it seems to be such an essential part of our Creator's design—a microcosmic and macrocosmic hint. And here we are in the middle, missing both! So as I ran today, I asked myself, "What is one thing I would consider doing that would create more space in my life?"

"Do I," I wondered as I reflected back on my favorite childhood TV show, "have the courage 'to boldly go where no man has gone before?' To live a life that has space in it, in copious amounts? To become comfortable with greater spaciousness in my life?" Well, I willing to head in that direction.

It is no accident of course, that this information has been forefront in my mind in the several days and weeks since completing my day job. By my own choosing, there is suddenly a lot more space in my life. And it has been uncomfortable at times, to relinquish the buzz, the intensity, the stress, even, of my former working life.

As May continues later in his book, "There is a strange sadness in growing freedom . . . We are like caged animals beginning to experience freedom, and there is something that we miss about the cage."

Only by establishing greater space in my outer world, can I really give myself the opportunity to reclaim the inner space that is my relationship with the divine. In the end, that is what I want the most. What drew me to running in the first place was a desire to find respite from all the other stuff going on "out there" in my life. A few stolen moments of peace and quiet in the midst of all the chaos.

What I have discovered through running, and through developing scores of running meditations over the years, is a relationship to an enhanced sense of spaciousness inside—and it is that that keeps me running today. A peace that is with me throughout most of every day, not just as I run.

As you run today, as yourself the same question: What is one thing I would consider doing that would create more space in my life?" This is not a commitment to do it, rather the giving to yourself of the opportunity to open to divine guidance in this area of your life. You have no responsibility to find an answer. Your work is just to ask the question, even repeat it as a mantra as you run. I'll be surprised if you say it ten times before an idea pops into your mind or, more accurately, your heart.

Allow this inspiration to guide you—follow it, don't lead it. Allow a vision of your life with this one change to unfold in your heart's eye. Listen to how you feel inside as you do. Notice your running stride, your breath, your level of effort. More than likely, you will be having the experience that you are running just as hard, or even harder, and yet it feels easier. And it can be. Why? Because your brain (which knows no difference between reality and a carefully crafted fantasy) is telling your body that you no longer are carrying the weight of this one additional thing in your life—and it is probably something you really don't want to do anyway!

Hey, what if you chose to follow this guidance? Even for a week or a day?! If you are even the least bit ready, I encourage you now, try it out! You deserve living and breathing space. Space to experience more of who you truly are: a divine being having a human experience!

Time as a Quality not a Quantity

In today's go-go-go world, it would often appear as if there is just not enough time to do all that we have on our plates. There are as many time management systems out there as there are e-mails in our spam filters! Each of them seeking to maximize the amount of stuff we can get done in a certain amount of time. It is a slippery slope, in my experience, to approach time as a quantitative item. I'd even go as far as to say that it's missing the boat.

As runners, we have the opportunity to experience time in a very different way. Our time spent running can carry us back to those mystical, magical, half-remembered summers when time seemed to stand still for us as kids. Long, long, long days, when time seemed to stretch to accommodate our pirate ship adventures, our missions to the moon, our discovery of the last tunnel out of the soon-to-explode-secret-mountain-cave. Sure, those are mostly boy's fantasies, but hey, I'm a boy!

We may not have been able to describe the difference at the time, but even as youngsters, we knew there was something inherently different about gown-up time. Our parents and older family members were often "busy", "in a hurry", or promising to connect with us "later." It all seemed rather bizarre to me as a youngster. Perhaps you, too, would shrug your shoulders and return to joyfully saving the planet from green monsters!

When we run, if we allow ourselves, we can step out of time and into the timeless geography of our hearts. But even as runners, we can succumb to the demon clock too often. We might be squeezing our workouts into our day in a way that they become something to get done, another task to check off. We might get caught in a competitive loop with ourselves, always timing every run, every mile, every 100 meters, seeking to improve on our last time. It can be fun to evaluate our ability, for sure. When our time starts to define who we are as runners—and even as human beings—then we are beginning to lose sight of the purpose of our gift of running.

Today, even before you run, set a clear intention (more on how to do this in the book) to experience the qualitative aspect of time rather than the quantitative. Picture your time spent running as like being afloat on a raft on a slow-moving river as a opposed to swimming upstream. Time can carry you rather than push you. A great way to support this intention is to leave your watch at home. It's OK. Really. You will make it back alive.

As you run, focus both on your inner and outer environments. Listen to your steady breath; appreciate your heart as it feeds your body—and your imagination; notice your mind. If it seeks to run ahead, remind it of your pace. You are the run leader. Exercise dominion as to the pace of your workout. Just as we are cautioned not to run too fast in the first half of a marathon (for every minute over stretched in the first half, you can be sure of expending two or more in the second half), when our mind gets ahead of us we pay a price later, either in mental fatigue, confusion, or even anger.

Rather than running through the neighborhoods on your route, allow them to embrace you. Feel the quality of the air, the smells, sounds, and colors. Listen to the voices you hear, the bird song, or the roar of the traffic. Allow all of this to begin to guide you to the sound of your inner landscape. The call of your heart, the whisper of the divine that propels you. It doesn't matter where you are on the outside. It is more about where you are on the inside.

At the end of our lives, I think it is a safe bet to say that we will evaluate our own success in life largely by the way that we have participated in the most important relationships in our lives. Dan Sullivan, founder of the Strategic Coach, puts this most effectively: "If there are ten scoreboards and you are winning on only of them — making money—you are not winning at all."

How do we magnify our qualitative experience of time? it is not about how we manage the time, it is about how we manage our choices. When we are spending time doing what we love, time does carry us. When we choose to fill our time with too much, and too many obligations, time begins to push us.

One choice that you have made to do something that you love, is to run. And consistently that pays dividends. I promise you this. The way that you feel when you run— inspired, free, alive, grateful, empowered, willing to step into mystery, more connected with the divine—that can be ALL of your life. At it's best, running is not hideaway from life. It is a doorway to life.

Inspirational speaker and business consultant Steve Chandler has said that "time is the new money." If that is the case, how about you start spending it in the way that you really want to? What would THAT look like?