I’m drinking my morning coffee and expecting hubby to propose bike riding today, and I’m going to tell him “yes!”
The autumn leaves are beginning to fall, and the woods feel lush like a Hawaiian tropical forest. I see deer, snakes, and strange furry creatures on the trails these days. Maybe everyone is hurrying about, getting their errands done in preparation for winter.
The bike trail will be cool, and I expect the same sort of busy traffic, except human and canine.
The strength I’m gaining in my legs from the running is giving me such freedom. When we go out for our 24-mile bike rides, the push is exhiliarating and not as much torture as it has been in the past.
I don’t know why I even call my Chi Running “running”, because I don’t actually run. It’s more like a fast walk/slow jog. That’s the beauty of Chi Running to me. I don’t really see the distinction between running and walking. The book “Chi Running” by Danny Dreyer says that the number one priority in Chi Running is form. Speed comes long after that. So I don’t push myself for speed, even though I know I must look silly doing the motions of a runner, and being passed by elderly people walking on the track.
Running is not the most dramatic thing to be doing with my life compared to most other peoples achievements. On the other hand, it’s something that for many decades I had resigned myself to never being able to do again. The remarkable thing about this activity for me is that I’m showing myself that it is possible to do something that I thought was impossible. I need to stay focused and patient and not push or expect anything of myself. “Wait”, as my Buddha statues tell me.