Breathing during a run: find your center and run from within

It was a glorious morning for a run today. Slightly cloudy with the temperature in the high fifties and just a slight breeze, the day beckoned for me to just run, freely and without any distractions. So I did.

In keeping with my recent epiphany, I once again eschewed any music in the run. Starting off from my house, I followed my usual route down some side streets to the local park, which has a lovely path past some athletic fields, a canal, and tennis courts. It was early, so there were only a few fellow runners and walkers on the path. But there was a large crowd forming on one field for the day's youth soccer games. As my run progressed, this proved to be a fun sidelight, as I enjoyed hearing the shouts of encouragement from parents to their children as the games began.

As to my run, I purposefully approached it with a gameplan of sorts (something I always do): I would run the first mile or so as a warm-up, then pick up my pace a little and run consistently for the next several miles, at which point I would just let loose and run wide open (this does not mean sprinting) until I tired or I needed to return home.

Let the force be with you, Part II

In my previous piece, I talked about one of the two forces we--as runners--must contend with: gravity. And rather than fighting against gravity, it makes sense to use it to our advantage, which we can do by running with a slight forward lean (though still maintaining a proper posture). The second force to contend with is that of the ground, the constant impact of our feet against it.

Landing is a critical issue for runners. Indeed, poor technique in this regard is one of the major sources of injury, from shin splints, to blisters, to joint damage. Prior to my exposure to a new way of running, I tended to land on my heel first, laying down the rest of my foot, then pushing off the ground with my toes. There's something to be said for such a technique, in terms of power, but I now think the costs far outweigh the benefits. at least for me. In keeping with the Altra/Chi Running approach, I'm in the process of shifting to a midfoot (or forefoot) strike, as a opposed to a heel strike.

Let the force be with you, not against you

Stiff and unbending is the principle of death.
Gentle and yielding is the principle of life.
Thus an Army without flexibility never wins a battle.
A tree that is unbending is easily broken.
The hard and strong will fall.
The soft and weak will overcome.
--Lao-Tzu, Tào Té Chīng, Chapter 76, 6th century BCE

The "Chi" in T'ai Chi can be roughly translated as "ultimate," while the "T'ai" means "great." Originally, the practice of T'ai chi ch'uan developed strictly as a martial art, wherein "ch'uan" meant "fist," giving the art the full name of Great Ultimate Fist. But even as a martial art, T'ai chi ch'uan was a product of Taoist thought, having been developed (supposedly) by a Taoist monk in China--one Zhang Sanfeng--during the Song Dynasty, circa 960 to 1279 CE.

As such, it was--as a system--firmly grounded in Taoist principles: mastery proceeded necessarily from a calmness of spirit, mind, and body, and from constant practice as goal to be relentlessly pursued. And the application of force was always minimized, the goal was to absorb and use the force of others, either of things in the environment or of the opponent when in combat.

The backstory to a new direction in running and life

I have been running consistently now for about four years, minus a nine month lapse (for personal reasons) after the first year and a half and minus the periodic lapse brought on by minor injury. There was also the summer  and early fall of 2013, which I mostly missed because of a fractured wrist suffered in a bicycle accident (darn you Tour de France, darn you to heck!). I was never much of a runner when I was younger, though I did the occasional jog around the neighborhood, pushed the baby stroller at a brisk pace after kids came along, and tried (and failed) the treadmill game at a local gym.

But after my third child was born in 2007, after she began to run around in the backyard and at the park, I came to a realization: I was pitifully out of shape. I was over forty and I couldn't keep up with a three year-old. I knew that if I wanted to experience her childhood the same way I had experienced the childhood of my older two children (who are seven and ten years farther down the road, respectively), I had to make some serious changes, starting with improving my heart and my general condition.