When I was seventeen, I ran the Seattle Marathon following my senior year of cross-country. I figured I was in the best shape of my life and this was the time to give a marathon a try. I then largely retired from running, just occasionally trotting a few miles to keep in some kind of shape. In 2018 and 2019 when I saw coverage of the New York City Marathon that goes through all five boroughs, I thought “that looks so cool,” but being in my late fifties, I put it down as out of the question. In 2020 the NYC marathon was cancelled due to COVID. When it ran again in 2021, something in me said, “I want to do that.” My son lived in Manhattan, I’d been there many times and also visited Brooklyn and the Bronx, but I’d never stepped foot in Queens or Staten Island. And all the crowds and energy of the event—something called.
Getting into the race was complex as I didn’t get selected in the lottery for the 2022 race but instead got a slot for the 2023 race if I ran a marathon in November of 2022 anywhere of my choosing. So I trained and trained, designed and ran my own marathon as directed, and then ran the New York City marathon in 2023. And then my daughter talked me into running the Colorado Marathon a week ago. With four lifetime marathons under my belt, I am now done. But the wisdom I gained is applicable to many things.
1. Attitude matters. On training runs, getting out the door is half the battle, but if you go out with the attitude, “this is awful, why am I doing it, I feel terrible, etc.” you will be miserable. If you go out with the attitude “I get to run today! Once I get going, I’m going to feel great,” you’ll have a much better experience. Even better if you can smile and nod at people rather than grimace and show suffering. You may scoff, but transmitting well-being and positive vibes in your neighborhood has a ripple effect. You will cover many miles as you run. You can be a force for grouchiness or a force for cheeriness, your choice.
2. Know your why. This may seem obvious, but why are you running? What do you hope to get out of it? A slimmer body? A feeling of mastery? Bragging rights? Stress release? Maybe you want to improve bone density, lower your blood pressure, stave off diabetes, and increase the likelihood of a long, healthy life. Because someone else thinks you should is a very weak why. Because other people might admire you is another why that will fade when the going gets tough. If you’re clear on your why, a lot of other stuff falls into place.
3. Don’t compare yourself to others. When I started training, most runners were faster than me. Some were way faster. Gradually I improved until some runners were slower than me. But getting caught up in comparisons is a bad mental trap. The person sprinting by me might only have time for a 2-mile workout while I’m out on a 10-mile run. Someone going slowly might be on a recovery run or doing low-heartrate training. Another might’ve just finished with chemotherapy and it’s their first time back in their running shoes. You just don’t know. It doesn’t matter. Everyone is out getting exercise in the fresh air, and it’s wonderful whatever their pace.
4. The natural world matters. I’m not a fan of running in heat or in the rain, but it takes many months to train for a marathon, so you’re bound to hit unpleasant weather now and again. Train anyway. Altitude matters. The elevation of the Colorado Marathon that started at 6500 feet kicked my butt because I’d trained almost entirely at sea level. So it goes. Air quality matters. During the fires in California a couple years back the air was so bad I couldn’t leave the house. I got a treadmill that I will use under duress, but breathable air is fundamental to existence, and I’m not sure why we don’t all take it more seriously. The most important thing about the natural world is that it’s wonderful! I live in San Francisco, and it’s 1.5 miles from my front door to the Panhandle. On the way I have to deal with traffic, uneven sidewalks, and stoplights. But once I get to the path that winds through 100-year-old trees, life is good. A couple more stoplights and I’m in Golden Gate Park where I can run miles surrounded by flora and fauna and shade and birdsong and no cars. (Numerous public bathrooms are a big plus.) Being out in nature is soothing and energizing and a reward in and of itself. Everyone should have access to large stretches of nature. It should be a basic human right.
5. What you ingest matters. Your body is made up of what you feed it. Things that are toxic really do affect it. Gradually over the years I’ve shed many things from my diet: high fructose corn syrup, corporate fast food, corporate highly processed carbs, alcohol, most sugar, and, recently, seed oils. What’s left to eat, you might ask? All sorts of delicious things that don’t have to cost that much or take long to prepare. YMMV, but I eat dairy, vegetables, some meat, some complex carbs, and I drink a lot of tea. I also occasionally indulge in street tacos and bread from small bakeries. When I upped my mileage, I upped my protein intake with more eggs per week. I did have to add a banana in the mornings before long runs. Eating this way my body feels great. My inflammation levels are low, and my energy levels are high. I take some supplements, but no medications. If you’re strong, young, and fit, you can probably get by with some toxicity now and again, but the older you get, the more this stuff matters. The other thing I’ll point out is that since muscle weighs more than fat, when you start to get in shape you’ll likely lose inches more quickly than weight, but that’s okay, because your waistline is far more important to your health anyway.
6. Honor who you are, your body, and your limits. I like running alone at my own pace, listening to my music, being with my thoughts. My daughter really likes running with other people. Neither is better or worse; our preferences are intrinsic to who we are. Silly not to know how you’re wired and honor that. Same with your body. If you listen to it, it’ll tell you all sorts of things, but since most of us are disconnected from our bodies, it can take a while to learn the language. My tai chi teacher once said, “There's the pain of injury and the pain of change. Learn to know the difference.” I would add that there is pain to ignore and pain to pay attention to. Pretty much every runner will tell you the first mile never feels good. During that mile I often get fleeting pain in my knees, hips or muscles. 99% of the time these things go away. When pain is stabbing or doesn’t go away, it’s time to pay attention, maybe even stop. If you train incrementally and only gradually increase miles/intensity, this kind of pain is less likely to occur. But when it does, you have to deal with it, even if it means you have to take a week or two off. Appreciate your body; thank it. It’s a wonderful gift, a highly advanced piece of biochemical machinery that’s yours for life. Never deride it or shame it. It hears what you say. Lastly, limits. As you get in shape, your limits will expand, but they will still be there. If you’re over 40 and not Kenyan, you are unlikely to ever win a major marathon. That’s okay. Know your why. I started training for the NYC marathon to challenge my body and have a certain experience. Though I would’ve liked to have run a Boston Marathon qualifying time for my age group, I never quite managed it. If I’d trained 50 miles a week instead of 40, maybe I could’ve achieved it, but I had my limits. And the Boston Marathon was never my why. I achieved my why and I’m satisfied.
7. Good tech can help. When I was in high school, I was thrilled to have a pair of Nike trainers with waffle bottoms. The other “tech” assistance I had was heavy cotton sweats, t-shirts, and water from drinking fountains. I seriously didn’t even own a water bottle. Now I have a fitness watch, headphones, a great running playlist, a cheststrap for low-heartrate training, gels, a hydration backpack, lycra leggings, great shoes with inserts, good sports bras, a waistpack, a variety of running shirts suited to different conditions, sunglasses, visors, and four different kinds of electrolyte mixes I like. Whew! All this stuff does help (especially the music.) But in the end, you still have to run the miles.
8. Small increments are powerful. Training for a marathon is a long road. I started out running 9 miles a week and over the course of 6 months worked up to 40 miles a week. With enough time, dedication, and small increments, you can do things you might not believe possible. Increments are important in other ways. We create our bodies and our lives one bite, one step, and one thought at a time. Yes, a doughnut here, a grouchy thought there, or even a skipped training run is not going to make much difference. But a pattern of them sure will. It’s the pattern that counts. The good news is that in every moment you can start afresh. Your point of power is now, going forward. One step, one bite, one thought at a time.
9. Find the joy. This was a tip from an
ultra-marathoner. A good attitude and knowing your why are important,
but there’s even a deeper level to obtain. If running makes you miserable, don’t
do it: find some other way to achieve your why. But even being so-so
about your training is a waste of time because, like almost everything, if you
dig deep enough, there is joy to be found in tackling a marathon. It may be
from your body when you can stride along without gasping for air. It may be
from birdsong in the morning hours, the aromatic fresh air, or the sunset that
closes down the evening. It may be from waving at a small child on your run or
greeting a tree friend. Whatever it is, find it. We are all responsible for our
own joy. No one can give it to you. But it will be there if you seek it. Find the joy.
In the Land of Porcelain is out! It can be purchased in paperbook or ebook on-line, or it can ordered at any bookstore. Audiobook version coming soon!
When Sara's husband, Mark, goes to law school on the East Coast, Sara moves in with her mercurial sister because she's just gotten promoted at her job and doesn't want to leave San Francisco. It's manageable. She and Mark will both focus on their careers and temporarily be BCDR, that's all-bi-coastal, dual rental. To keep busy Sara begins City Buddha-Mind walking and volunteers at a domestic violence shelter. But after Aaron, a high-powered consultant, offers to mentor her, Sara soon realizes her life isn't as under control as she thought it was. Set in the early 1990's, In the Land of Porcelain is a young woman's roller-coaster journey to self-discovery, deeper love, and breaking free.
"Karen Allen has written a story of a woman waking up to her life, and waking up, and waking up--with help and distractions from a host of three-dimensional, fascinating characters. It's a moving book, a funny one, and even an inspiring one."--Tonya Edwards
Well supported and well supplied |
I started drinking alcohol in college at age eighteen. This was relatively late for my generation. As with most people, I saw alcohol as a mark of adulthood, good for socializing, relaxing, and easing stress.
I knew alcohol was prevalent in American culture, but once I went off it, how much reinforcement there is for drinking really slapped me in the face. It is inhospitable for a host/hostess not to offer their guests alcohol. Period. In restaurants waiters are visibly disappointed that your dinner bill will not include $25 for two glasses of wine. Friends suggest bars as a natural place to meet up in the evening. Within half a mile of my house there are two grocery stores, three corner stores, and four liquor stores that, combined, offer far more shelving feet of alcohol for sale than nutritious food. (Don’t get me started on the food deserts of impoverished neighborhoods.) Bottles of alcohol are on maximum view in every bar and restaurant (are that evening’s vegetables so elegantly displayed?) and pre-Covid, the quantity of alcohol consumed before, during, and after plane flights was frankly astounding. Remember all the chuckles and cute memes about quarantine drinking? Binge drinking went through the roof this past year, especially among women.
In TV and movies the characters show they’re having a good time by drinking. Alcohol ads oriented towards women paint pictures of intimacy, romance, and friendship. Alcohol ads promise men status, friendship, and sex. In social media, friends and family take selfies with their drinks to prove they’re having a good time. Our culture is saturated in alcohol, and if you don’t believe it, go off alcohol for a month and see how many times you are invited, encouraged, reminded, or pushed to have a drink. Even more annoying, some people may assume you have a psychological disorder since “normal” people choose to drink. And then you’ll hear at length why drinking is fine for them since they have no problem with alcohol. (Since I’ve done this to other people, it’s likely fitting that I’m now on the receiving end.)
And our society is largely unconscious of all of this.
And yet. And yet alcohol is toxic to the human body. Small doses are a little toxic; large doses are very toxic.
And it’s possible to feel good without alcohol. In fact, it’s possible to feel great without alcohol and to feel so far more consistently. Indeed, some schools of thought view alcohol as an impediment to one’s spiritual progression.
One of the biggest reasons I went off alcohol was middle-of-the-night insomnia. I was already meditating and exercising daily but still I would wake up at 2 am. Six months later, my sleep has vastly improved, but even better has been the benefits to my spiritual journey. I feel more connected to nature; I feel more connected to grace. I’m more conscious now of when I’m choosing between love and fear and I now more often manage to opt for love. Maybe this self-acceptance and heart-opening would’ve happened anyway, I can’t say for sure. I mention this knowing that many will have no idea what I’m talking about. That’s okay. The path is a breadcrumb trail, and those inclined to follow it will.
Still, I’m very conscious that by not drinking I’ve put myself outside normal human experience. And I’m still working to accept that people are puzzled and even disturbed by my choice, even as I used to be when I ran across someone who didn’t drink.
Onward.
I was thrilled to get my driver’s license at age sixteen. It’s one of the most profound rites of passage we have for teenagers. A license means independence, power, and status! A heady brew indeed. Even though my family of six scraped along with just one car, and I had to wheedle my parents for every minute of driving I got, since I lived in a suburb with no public transit and no safe biking, that license significantly changed my life.
And so over the years I drove and drove and drove, even after moving to a city. Road trips, daily commute trips, and transporting children trips. (Trips to the orthodontist were nearly endless.) I saw cars as convenient, safe, and necessary because even though I lived in one of the densest places in North America, my way of life was still designed around a car. In fact, I chose my children’s schools partly based on how easily I could drive there and park.
Before we went car-free, my husband and I spent a few years seeing how little we could drive as a kind of hobby. We’d long been bicyclists, but after we both got electric bikes it became faster to get almost anywhere in the city by bike instead of car. When we traveled, we tried not to rent a car but instead took rail or light rail, a Lyft ride or two, and did a lot of walking.
Plant shopping by bike |
New local garden |
Best use of space? |
Does drinking alcohol make you a bad person? No. Does driving a car make you evil? Of course not. Everyone is on their own path, has their own individual circumstances, and deserves to enjoy their life. Not drinking won’t automatically solve all your problems, and not driving won’t turn your community into Shangri-La anytime soon. But I suggest that there are very good reasons not to drink alcohol as well as not to drive a car before even taking into account alcoholism, drunk driving, peak oil, and climate change. I’ll also point out that while one set of choices is promoted, reinforced, and made as convenient as possible, the other set is shamed, challenged, or made as dangerous as possible. It would be nice if our society created a little more physical and psychological space for those who choose the path less taken.
Neighborhood guardians that inspire love, not fear |
(Photo credits: all photos taken by Karen Allen)
You often pull out some of the rocks and look at them. They don’t make you happy. In fact they make you miserable. Some at the bottom you never pull out—you might not even remember you have them--but still you carry them. This seems inexplicable. Why would anyone voluntarily bear such a burden?
Unfortunately these rocks are not chunks of shale or granite or sandstone. Those would be easy to get rid of! Instead they are bits of residual resentment, hatred, anger, guilt, and shame from injuries or injustices or mistakes you can’t or won’t or haven’t tried to let go of. The backpack is your mind; the weight of the load burdens not your back but your soul.
What follows are tips for cleaning out that backpack. If the pack’s stuffed full, it’ll take some mental elbow grease to do a good spring cleaning, but trust me, it’s worth it for the sunlight that will pour into your life. After that, there’ll be some ongoing maintenance to keep your pack light and your steps jaunty. Yes, there’ll be surprises. Rocks that you’ll swear you never picked up will somehow get in that backpack, and a few rocks will keep reappearing even after you put them down and down again. Still the effort’s worth it.
So how to get rid
of these rocks? The first step is to realize that anger, hatred, resentment,
guilt, and shame are not just weight, they’re toxic, poisonous to a healthy
life. They cloud your judgement; they sap your attention and energy. They
lead to bitterness, depression and despair. If you feed these toxic emotions,
the rocks will grow until they’re all you have left. At its most basic, carrying around these rocks is a form of self-harm.
Instead when these emotions arise, acknowledge them, learn from them. Take action if appropriate. And then let them go. This doesn’t mean you should allow people who’ve injured you to do so again. But caution, wisdom, and courage prevent injury better than anger and resentment.
Back to spring cleaning. All of us have childhoods that involved rocks. Some of us had really bad childhoods with backpacks that are overflowing. I’m so sorry. Our families and our society should treat children so much better. But if you’re reading this, you’re likely an adult with a lot more control over your life now. Carrying a heavy psychic backpack helps nothing.
The first rocks to get rid of are those pertaining to parents. You can forgive or not forgive, but either way the weight’s killing you. You have to let go. One way to do this is to imagine your five-year-old self. What do you need? What do you wish you’d gotten? More love? What would that look like—more hugs, more safety, someone to read to you at bedtime, someone to tell you you’re wonderful? Whatever it is, imagine your adult self taking your child self by the hand and giving them whatever they didn’t get. Yes, this doesn’t seem rational, but the inner child in you isn’t rational, just needy. Re-parent yourself. Take five minutes here, five minutes there and imagine giving that five-year-old what he or she needs.
It's big. It can take it. |
When you’ve got most of your parent rocks cleaned out, try to find one memory from each parent when they showed love, or at least kindness, towards you. Let that memory gleam, and put it in your heart. And from now on, when you think of your parents, don’t trot out all the garbage from your childhood--pull out the gleaming memories because that is what’s going to let you be at peace. It doesn’t mean rewriting history. All the crapola happened, but you let it be. Maybe you feel some sadness, but you don’t carry the toxicity around with you anymore.
Are these yours? |
So let’s get to guilt and shame. Those are not so much rocks as sticks that you beat yourself up with. And some of this is so deep in your subconscious you might not know what memory is triggering your suffering, only that you are bad, unworthy, don’t deserve to live, etc. This is not pleasant, but you have to pull out the mistakes you feel worst about--the ones you're most ashamed of--and say, “What should I learn from this?” Sit with the transgression and genuinely absorb what needs to be integrated. Because that’s why you still carry it with you. If you really dig into your subconscious (be warned--shame pushes things deep), you’ll likely be amazed at the fairly trivial stuff you use to convince yourself during your low moments that you’re a horrible human being. The thing is, you don’t need shame and guilt to control your behavior. Once you’ve absorbed the lesson, wisdom will keep you from repeating the mistake. No more punishment needed. You, yes you, deserve to enjoy your life.
Given how much work it is to get rid of rocks, it’s a good idea not to load up with new ones. One way to prevent new rocks is to see someone currently pushing your buttons not as your enemy but a lesson knocking at your door. This is admittedly not easy to do in the heat of the moment. But with some reflection you may realize that what you’re annoyed with in another person is a characteristic you don’t want to recognize in yourself. This applies to current political figures or even entire groups of people that have different views from you. You don’t have to stop caring about the issues important to you, you don’t have to agree with those you’re ideologically opposed to, but you have to not turn them into rocks. Which means not hating them. Which means letting go of the anger and resentment. Which means wrestling with what is the larger lesson being presented--to you personally, to your country, to humanity. What are we human beings struggling to learn? Harm is harm, so of course try to prevent or mitigate it, but hatred and anger (not to mention contempt and loathing) are not the tools.
If you can manage to get in dialogue with those you're opposed to, even better. It's true that some people are so engulfed by negativity that there's no way to communicate through it, but this not the case for the vast majority of people despite what the media might tell you. You may find some of them believe you are the source of harm. Dialogue and recognition of our common humanity is the only way to work through this. We absolutely have to start laying down our rocks and dealing with others as human beings, not as members of a group. There is much to learn from all this. Will we do it? If you're reading this article, this means you have to take the first step and put down your rocks, not wait for others to go first.
Another way to think about this is that the negative actions of any person/group are almost always symptoms of underlying problems, usually structural ones. The problems humanity faces are not due to too little anger and hatred. Indeed, our negative emotions are used to divide and exploit us, to confuse us from seeing who (or what) is behind the curtain pulling the levers. You can stop that cycle, at least with your own life and your own consciousness. If you can manage to feel compassion, empathy or even love towards those who have caused harm, more power to you. It’s a spiritual achievement that will ripple outward to benefit us all. But for now at least get rid of the negative emotions that are poisoning your soul.
Even after you get good at rock tossing and rock avoiding, now and then rocks will still get into your pack. You will get annoyed, irritated, perhaps even irate. That’s okay. Catch yourself, laugh, examine the lesson, and chuck the darn rock away. A light backpack is a joyful thing.
“You cannot solve a problem from the same consciousness that created it. You must learn to see the world anew.”—Albert Einstein
Note: If your rocks are really stubborn, a counselor or other mental health professional can assist with tossing the worst ones.
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