I woke up at 8 a.m. to rain beating against my window. I imagined myself out running, getting soaked, and potentially ruining my iPhone (that I use for GPS and motivating tunes) in the process. The image didn't sound appealing in the least. I rolled over and soon fell back asleep.
At 10:45 a.m., I was still in bed. The sound of rain had stopped, yet my motivation was still lacking. I have worked to develop a routine of running every morning after I wake up, however, so despite my still-groggy state, I pulled myself up.
I felt anxious. I reflected back to an event the day before that I had found upsetting. The situation was out of my control, yet I found myself ruminating over the injustice of it, and I was still trying to find solutions to an insolvable problem.
I stepped out the door. The rain had kept the climate cool, and it was a good day for running. Despite the good conditions, my brain was still wishing it was back in my cozy bed.
My mind soon got caught up in the lyrics to the song playing through my headphones. This separated me from my body further, and I was no longer present. A power song came on my music mix. I quickened the pace. It brought me back to my body somewhat.
I felt the arch of my right foot twinge. Ever since I tore the tendon two years ago, it has hurt from time to time. I thought back to that moment and knew tearing it again wasn't an experience I wanted to have a second time. 1.5 miles from my house, I turned around to get my achy foot home.
At 2 miles, I decided it was best to stop and walk. I had a mile to go.
And then I noticed why I had felt so on edge all morning.
I had disassociated myself from the present moment.
At 8 a.m., my mind had been in the future, in the rain.
At 10:45 a.m., my mind had been in the past, demotivated.
As I stepped out the door, my mind was caught up in the worries of yesterday.
At 1.5 miles, my mind was at the sports doctor's office, 2 years ago.
At 2 miles, my mind was in the future, anticipating another injury.
-------
I turned my music off and took out my headphones. I tuned into my mind and felt it, floating away to the distractions of the past and future. I realized that I was missing out on the most important part of my life - the present.
I started to tune into my surroundings. I looked around at the trees, the lake, the cars passing by, the ground beneath my feet, and tried to really see them. It was more difficult than I thought to come back to the here-and-now.
"The present moment," I said to myself.
And then,
"Tune into your senses."
I suddenly was able to feel my legs and feet as they touched the ground.
The most amazing thing was that I had been outside for 30 minutes, and only when I purposefully tuned into the present did I smell the fresh aroma of rain on the grass.
I had been missing out.
How many times do we miss the now and live in the past or future? I know I do a lot. Come to think about it, I would say 90% of the worry I feel in life comes from somewhere other than the present. I'll be practicing, but thinking about the competition months from now, or kick myself for not adequately practicing years ago.
I have never liked the question, "Where do you see yourself in 5, 10, etc. years?" In my opinion, all this question does is cause a person to live somewhere other than the present, which is the only moment upon which we can effect change. A better question would be to ask, "What are your goals? Dreams?" None of us can predict the future, but we can have a dedicated vision to work toward.
My new goal is to stay present, to check in with myself when I feel discomfort and ask...is this happening now? Or yesterday-tomorrow?
"I've only got one life to live: I'll live it now." -- Relient K, "Here I Go"
