Trust The Process

Here to help you find what your journey needs

[anon-i-mus]

You are the silent witnessing presence of both your inner and outer reality.

You are the transcendental space of watchfulness that perceives the ephemeral appearances that exist within space and time.

In fact, it is because of your detached observing that ANYTHING can be known.

~Anon I mus (Spiritually Anonymous)

[anon-i-mus]

Meditation is not about practicing various yoga poses, prayers to deities, an induced trance, self-hypnosis, chanting mantras, finding a quiet room to blank your mind, or trendy mental/breathing techniques to relax and relieve stress in your daily life.

Real meditation is stripping away all that we are not, by embracing all that we are (as unconditioned awareness). Your Source-Self is the sacred womb of creation - the quantum field of freedom, love, wisdom, creativity and infinite possibilities.  ~Anon I mus (Spiritually Anonymous)

[tessbegg]

[theyogirunner]

11/11/17: Anthem Richmond Marathon: America’s Friendliest Marathon

Location: Richmond, VA

Distance: Half Marathon

Temperature: 26°

Time: 2:17:15

On Veteran’s Day, I ran my very first half-marathon. I was never much of a runner, but I was an athlete. In 8th grade, I started playing volleyball. By my senior year of high school, I was the captain of my varsity team and the co-captain of my national travel club team. I knew I wouldn’t go on to play in college as I had accepted my offer to attend a division 1 sports school. As my club season was nearing a close, I knew I would need to find something else.

After all the graduation parties and summer BBQ’s came to a close, I started to feel the inevitable identity crisis that came with losing one’s sport. My old teammates were heading off to preseason and there I was still at home with nothing to train for. I felt like I lost a huge part of myself. I wondered, could I still be an athlete if I wasn’t playing volleyball anymore? If I wasn’t an athlete, who was I?

Just one year earlier, my mother was diagnosed with Breast Cancer. She says she was lucky because with a few months of chemotherapy and radiation, she’d be just fine.

Easier said than done.

A few months before the diagnosis, she had signed up to run the Anthem Half-Marathon for the fall of 2014. She asked her doctor, “can I still run?”

‘If you can still run, you should.’

And she did.

She trained all summer using a modified version of Hal Hidgon’s Half-Marathon Training schedule. It was tough. There were tears, there were nauseous days, there were skipped days, there were days where her legs felt like lead. In the end, there was only one day that mattered: race day.

On November 8th, 2014 - bald as can be - my mother completed her first Half-Marathon. Three years later, I’m a junior in college, no longer fully crushed by the weight of my identity crisis. Having the accountability of a race deadline kept me training all summer and all semester-long. I was able to take control of my health and my happiness. As silly as it sounds, I felt validated again in owning and wearing athletic apparel.

Running this race gave me the tools I needed to reestablish my identity. The brisk cold and roller coaster-esque hills reminded me of what it was like to endure a challenge. Now I more deeply understand the value of pushing through discomfort and pain with a greater goal in mind.

When’s the next race?