I love making surprise progress.
I enjoyed a long, slow run
yesterday, keeping my intention to listen to my body, go at its pace, not that
of my mind or goal-oriented will. It was a warm afternoon around the track, the
sun streaming in through the windows, warming the air upstairs, away from the
outside doors. I put my hoodie into one of the cubicles, placing the water
bottle with hanging keys toward the back, away from outsider temptation. I
selected the Kirtan Rabbi music that had instigated some energy for a run, and
began the walkabout for listening’s sake. Slowly, a lap of walking turned to a
slow jog, became a walk again, then a jog again. It felt good to loosen my back
and leg muscles from their stationery captivity while I had done my writing
that morning. Before I knew it, I was enjoying a loping run for multiple laps,
smiling at the return of energy and feeling of anticipation. A twinge I had
felt in my hip from three days before was long gone, and it was just the sound
of the Shema, a Hindu drum, and the pad-pad-pad of my steps in good form.
About midway through, I thought I would change things up a
little, play a little bit on the adult-jungle-gym downstairs—bars, bands
hanging with handles for multiple-angle resistance training, etc. Approaching the
bar, I wondered what it might feel like, this return to the bar after three
days away. I had learned to relax my joints the previous workout, trust that my
muscles would all hold me together. It had felt so strange, and strangely
wonderful, to ease into my skin like that. I’ve been working too hard, trying
to use my mind and sense of “must-be” in pursuing the form of a pull-up. My
trainer is intent on getting me into my body in safe form, then letting my body
tell me what it’s going to do. She apparently doesn’t know how the majority of
folks in my family DO body things. We don't have much practice in doing what she is suggesting.
It was good to jump up, feel the strain on my hands and
trust the callouses that would come. I relaxed my joints, allowed my muscles to
hold me together. I hung there, surely with a big dopey smile on my face. It
was good to practice, to support what I’ve been learning. I released my grip
then re-chalked, walked to the lower bar so I could try a different form—a
chin-up, which to everyone who knows about these things, is different than a
pull-up. Who knew? To me, same ol’ same old. But no, a chin up has a different
hand grip, allows you to use your biceps more fully. Anyway, I aimed to jump up
above the bar, catching myself in a static hold, strengthen the abs and all
that.
Before I jumped, I remember thinking, “Be sure to jump high
enough so you can catch in the static hold.” A previous day had taught me I’ve
simply not been getting enough height to activate all the right muscles for a
static hold. Get enough height, I can hold myself just fine.
Well, I didn’t get enough height, I realized, but it didn’t
matter! I pulled myself up to the right height and held me there for a while. I
pulled myself up and held me there!!! It was such a marvelous feeling—to pull
myself up above the bar!! I couldn’t get the smile off my face. I released,
then repeated it three more times. And then I was done.
But a jump into chin-up is something I can do now. Get
myself started, then finish with my arm and upper body strength.
It’s coming. And it was a surprise progress kind of day. I
didn’t know I could do that yet.
Then the day finished with a marvelous remainder of miles, some cool-down stretches and mobility attention, and a good long afternoon of writing and listening. Good stuff, all around.
