At the 1997 What, Mi-Wok Trail 100K, I neglected my electrolytes and became deeply hypothermic and had to drop out at 55 miles. Herm Cohen, a veteran ultrarunner who was serving as a race volunteer that day, consoled me with this cheerful advice: “Hey, don’t worry about it! I’ve DNF’d so many times, I can’t count ‘em. Take it as a learning experience.” (DNF = “Did Not Finish,” or “Did Nothing Foolish (or Fatal).”)
If you’ve been a runner for more than a single day, you must know that it’s just one darn thing after another. “What should I do about this meniscus tear?” “Which shoes should I buy?” “What’s up with this twinge in my ankle?” “Should I train for a marathon?” “I’m dying in my long runs; is there a better fuel I can take?”
I’ve always been interested in the link between fitness and spirituality. I’ve felt that the spiritual source ought to have answers for my problems as a runner. If God is real, shouldn’t we be able to experience Him/Her? Is God nothing? I’ve been blessed to cross that border occasionally, experiencing a joy, love and wisdom that appeared to stream from a higher source. When I first came to running, those experiences happened rarely. The problem was, I had an abundance of ideas about the spiritual life, but not much experience. Most of all, I didn’t realize that, on the spiritual path, “quality” is less about the mind, than it is about the heart.
Health problems would eventually force me to spend six years as a non-runner. I used that time to deepen my spiritual life, and when I returned, I found that I understood running in a new way. In fact, the first thing I did, when I came back to running, was to make God my coach, quite literally. And to the extent that I remembered to ask for help with the problems that beset every runner, I found answers. If I got lost and floundered, it was invariably because I either forgot to ask (assuming, perhaps, that God would help because, after all, He already knew all about my problems), or I asked halfheartedly, with an indifferent heart.
But God didn’t solve my problems magically, or dump the answers in my lap simply because I did Him the great favor of turning to him for help. In fact, He often seemed to be strewing obstacles in my path. (At the Mi-Wok race, I had rushed headlong down the trail, overriding the whispers of inner guidance in a buzz of caffeine and sugar. In that instance, no divine intervention was needed; God let me taste the results of my own stupidity.)
When I came back to running, I had all the problems that most new runners face, beginning with the aforementioned meniscus tear. I had knee problems, Achilles tendinitis, an intestinal syndrome that lasted for a year, and a weight problem. And I got seriously overtrained when I ran seven marathons and three 50Ks in seven months without taking time off between races.
I discovered that the problems only got worse when I relied on my own resources, or if I “half-asked” but sneakily tried to go my own way. But when I sought help with an open heart and carefully followed, my running went smoothly. Even if I was injured, sick, or death-marching through a melt-down marathon, I found the inner guidance showing me the secret inner pathways to joy.
Life’s ups and downs are a given, yet some folks approach exercise as if it were the grand exception. “Wow, this running (stair-climbing, rowing, weightlifting, cycling) is great! If I only do a little bit more, I’ll have more joy – and, gosh, ecstasy is just around the corner!” But the bright shining goal has a way of eluding our grasp when we try to grab for it selfishly.
For a runner, the down times are a given. We can never completely escape them, but we can find a joy that stays with us in the good times and bad. And that joy is inside.
If you want to have more quality in your running, here’s my advice:
Try to be a little detached from your experiences. Learn to look at the setbacks calmly: “Okay, this is interesting. What can I learn?” Live in the moment and learn to enjoy it. Prayer and meditation can help, because they’re the art of being older and wiser.
You do your spiritual practices, your breathing slows, your thoughts become quiet, you feel inwardly nourished, and you don’t feel quite so needy and grasping anymore. Over weeks and years, you find a happiness growing inside that isn’t touched by the injuries and other frustrations of a runner. Your happiness doesn’t have to come from outside, and you find that, with a little effort, you can enjoy almost anything – the ups and downs alike.
We were in Sacramento for a weekend of rest and relaxation, many years ago, and on Saturday morning I jogged from the hotel to the beautiful American River Parkway for a 14-mile run. At four miles, I was hurting, and as I approached the turnaround, I prayed, “I feel awful; I don’t even want to think about these next seven miles. But surely there must be something we can do to turn this into a positive experience.”
An intuitive message flashed in my mind, clear and powerful: “Give yourself to Me, and I will carry you!” My attention was drawn powerfully to the point between the eyebrows, where the neurophysiologists say that mental focus and will power are localized in the brain. As I continued to run, I felt utterly detached from the body and its suffering. The pain was still there; I was very aware of it, but I was above it, riding in a place of intense, quiet focus. That state lasted nearly to the end of the run, when I allowed myself to feel a bit emotional, and it faded.
That experience happened 15 years ago, but the lesson has lingered. The other day, I held my attention lightly at the point between the eyebrows while I ran, without strain but with gentle persistence, and I found myself running with greater power and lightness than ever. It was a feeling of self-integration, as if a higher intelligence were pulling my body, mind, and feelings into a single, unified stream.
During a recent 90-minute run, I was feeling severely “under-carbed,” as if I had “hit the wall” even before I started. After 45 minutes, I was nearly reconciled to walking the rest of the way, but I thought I would try to make 50 minutes. Feeling that I might as well run those last five minutes as positively and cheerfully as possible, I put my attention calmly but intensely at the point between the eyebrows. And that’s all it took. By holding my attention in that place of inner strength and good spirits, I actually picked up the pace and completed the run feeling wonderful, even though my body was crying for carbs.
Neurophysiologist Richard Davidson, Ph.D., one of the world’s foremost experts on the prefrontal cortex of the brain, studied the brain patterns of a group of university students and found that those with the highest levels of prefrontal cortex activation were uniformly better at setting and achieving goals, and had fewer problems with drugs and alcohol compared to students with lower PFC activity.
In field studies of Tibetan monks living in exile in India, Davidson tested one elderly gentleman who had spent virtually his entire life meditating. The old man registered the highest levels of left-prefrontal cortex activity the researchers had ever seen, reflecting his deeply positive outlook. (The left prefrontal cortex is associated with positive, upbeat attitudes, the right cortex with negative or depressed states. A structure known as the anterior cingulate gyrus, in front of and between the prefrontal cortices, becomes strongly activated in meditation and appears to mediate between, or balance, the “positive” and “negative” activity of the left and right cortices.)
Meditation and other spiritual practices that bring energy to the prefrontal cortex and anterior cingulate may offer a shortcut for developing mental focus, positive attitudes, and will power.1
Religious fundamentalists who learn of the research on the prefrontal cortex are likely to find cause for disgruntlement. Yet some of the most interesting clinical studies of the prefrontal cortex have been conducted by Dr. Daniel Amen, a psychiatrist who uses brain scans to diagnose and treat his patients’ emotional problems. Dr. Amen, who has thriving practices in Fairfield and Newport Beach, California, is a deeply religious man, and a Christian fundamentalist. His book, Healing the Hardware of the Soul: How Making the Brain-Soul Connection Can Optimize Your Life, Love, and Spiritual Growth, describes his clinical studies of neural activity in healthy and damaged brains and in states of prayer and meditation – studies that leave little doubt as to the role of the prefrontal cortex in a healthy spiritual life.
How is it possible to turn to a higher power? By keeping it simple. The principal reason people don’t experience God is that they don’t pay Him the slightest attention. Or they spin lofty theories, but they don’t make the private experiment of talking to God from the heart. Talk your problems over with God. Or talk to a saint – talk to Christ or the Buddha. Don’t use fancy, formal words. Speak in the plain language that comes naturally from your heart. Anyone can do it. The practical tools of prayer and meditation aren’t the property of any one religion. The ability to talk with God and receive His answers is given to us with our human birth. Talk to Him for five minutes a day, with deep sincerity, and you will surely receive His answers.
Try praying from your heart, with your attention focused gently at the point between the eyebrows. Pray in a relaxed but attentive, sincere spirit of loving friendship, not of groveling servitude, fear, or unworthiness. Then listen quietly and trustingly in your heart for the answer.
1Harvard Medical School researchers used functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) to identify and characterize the brain regions that are active during a simple form of meditation. Significant signal increases were observed in the prefrontal cortex, hippocampus, and cingulate cortex. This indicates that “meditation activates neural structures involved in attention and control of the autonomic nervous system.” [Neuroreport 2000 May 15;11(7):1581-5]
