Baby Steps to Balance

Getting the balance right is an issue that keeps coming up a lot for me. In running, in life, in work. It’s an overused thing to say, I know - and perhaps I should keep my thoughts to a letter to the editor of Yoga magazine - but I can't help but recognize recently that this is a constant life-classroom challenge for me.

How do I best strike the right chord between thinking and doing, between being uber-engaged and healthily detached, between moving around and being still, between maintaining momentum and knowing when to wait?

In short, how do I fill my life with doing the things that make me happy and are, in some way, ultimately useful – to me or someone else?

The other night, while stretching my back and neck on the living room floor after coming in from a run, I came across some balance exercises. In typical fashion for me, I read them and thought dismissively, “How easy.” Also in subsequently typical fashion, I tried them and found out they weren’t. Standing with one foot directly behind the other is so easy, while doing it with your eyes shut is so hard!

This air-guitar saga (otherwise known as my slight neck injury, which is nearly healed) has taught me a lot – including how out of my league are people who deal with chronic pain and still manage to smile and relax into the world. It also suggested to me that perhaps I have been putting manic energy towards running to avoid some other gaps in my life. So I am planning to make some changes.

I am also more determined to find balance within my running itself. I have joined this running club, a group of finely tuned, Type-A Washington DC speedsters. The coach George preaches balance, but his runners seem to favor nonstop, grueling intensity – on the track, on tempo, etc. So it is up to me to actually follow my rules and find my own way.

Last night at the track workout, the coach divided us up into six groups for repeats – 1x1600, 2x1200, 2x800, 2x400. I usually hang desperately onto the back of Group 2, but last night, I decided to go with Group 3. For the first time, I felt like I was finally able to find a regular rhythm – I focused on trying to find a hard, relaxed pace during the first third, and then kicked it in when I could on the last 30%. I also quit early, since I wanted to be mindful of my back, calf, and the fact that too much speedwork does not a happy Wednesday make.

Here were the splits:
1600: 6:47
1200s: 5:03, 5:04
800: 3:14

Not the most blazing speed, but an effort I am quite proud of nonetheless. And a suggestion of balance – between intensity and rhythm, between too much and too little, and between competition with others and remaining true to myself.

Baby steps to get there.