The Zen Of Running

Draws on Zen philosophies to counsel runners on how to achieve better results by aligning the body and mind for success, providing case testimonials while providing coverage of topics ranging from staying committed and training mindfully to visualizing goals and accepting limitations. Original.

A unique fitness program from a highly respected spiritual leader that blends physical and spiritual practice for everyone - regardless of age, spiritual background, or ability - to great benefits for both body and soul. As a Tibetan lama and leader of Shambhala (an international community of 165 meditation centers), Sakyong Mipham has found physical activity to be essential for spiritual well-being. He's been trained in horsemanship and martial arts but has a special love for running. Here he incorporates his spiritual practice with running, presenting basic meditation instruction and fundamental principles he has developed. Even though both activities can be complicated, the lessons here are simple and designed to show how the melding of internal practice with physical movement can be used by anyone - regardless of age, spiritual background, or ability - to benefit body and soul.

Learn how to bring the power of stillness into your running practice with meditations, guidance, and inspiration from a long-time runner and Zen practitioner. Running is more than just exercise. Running is a practice, a moving meditation, that brings the power of stillness to all the activities in our lives. Vanessa Zuisei Goddard combines her experience leading running retreats with her two-decade practice of Zen to offer insight, humor, and practical guidance for grounding our running, or any physical practice, in meditation. When we see running solely as exercise and focus on improving our times, covering a certain number of miles, or losing weight, we miss the deeper implications of this art. Whether you are a new or experienced runner, you will learn how to be more embodied through thirteen running practices to help improve your focus and running form. Using mantras and visualizations, as well as a range of other exercises, Goddard offers ways to practice running as a moving meditation with an eye toward bringing the power of stillness to all the activities in your life. Ultimately, Still Running is a book about freedom, ease, and the joy of movement; it's about the power of stillness and learning how to use that power to live wholeheartedly.

Visually and poetically describes the communion with nature and self that can be achieved through the art of running

Discover how mindfulness can enhance your running and make you a happier, more fulfilled person. By applying mental fitness training to your running regime, you tap into a powerful mind-body connection that not only optimizes sporting performance, but also boosts happiness both on and off the running trails. Mindful Running brings together scientific research, expert analysis, and elite athlete contributions to reveal how relating to your mind, body, and surroundings in a new way can help you run longer and faster, as well as offer a boost to your overall mental, emotional, and physical health. Devised with both the competitive and everyday runner in mind, Mackenzie L. Havey introduces an innovative, approachable, and authoritative guide designed to increase self-awareness, develop concentration, and improve endurance. Not only does this have the potential to translate into better running, it can also play a role in training you to endure life's challenges with greater ease and find joy in all things big and small. Mindful Running is a total body and mind fitness regime.

I Hate Running and You Can Too is a humorous, punchy, motivating guide to running longer distances than some might think sensible - whether that's a 5K or a marathon. Outside magazine columnist, chart-ist, and longtime runner, Brendan Leonard gets real on the love/hate relationship all runners have with the sport. He breaks down running in terms that speak to everyone who has ever struggled to get out the door and go for a run: getting comfortable being uncomfortable, how to start small and stick with it, that walking is a completely legitimate running strategy, and devising your own definition of success. Filled with 75 charts and graphs that give readers a sensible way to think about running, I Hate Running and You Can Too breaks down the reality of the training miles versus race miles, how to stay motivated, and what to do when faced with setbacks. I Hate Running and You Can Too shows readers that you won't always like running (sometimes you'll even hate it), but if you just keep going, you might learn to love it too.

Zen Track Rambling came about quite by chance: First, as a joyful account to capture the feelings I experienced during my long runs; and secondly, as a means to relieve the pain, depression, and general helplessness I felt during a long-term injury. My running journey has led me to extreme highs, but has also plunged me bipolar-like into the depths of depression. The journey began in Starved Rock State Park, outside of LaSalle, Illinois, in August 1999, when I was an expatriate in Australia working in the States for a spell. At sunrise, I'd run the trails before work, then share in a communal breakfast with my workshop colleagues; yet during the work day, I would drift and daydream. I was fifty-something, and felt disconnected, not knowing who I was or where I was headed. But I put my time to good use during those humdrum workshops: I'd scribble the memories from the day's run on scraps of paper! The result of my ennui was an accumulation of paper scraps marked with ruminations of my daily runs. On my flight back to Australia, I gathered those scraps and magically scribed the poem “zen track rambling”. The title of the poem, however, is unrelated to my morning runs on the Starved Rock trails even though they were the poem's inspiration; rather, zen track is a name my Australian running mates and I coined to describe a scorching hot, blustery bike path which runs along a railway line—and, which once hosted the infamous Ghan from Adelaide to Darwin—where we often hallucinated as we ran in 100 plus-degree temperatures. As I was living and working in Australia for quite some time, I made a few friends in the South Australian Writer's Workshop, notably Kim, who encouraged me to read “zen track rambling” in one of the Poetry Under The Pier reading sessions in Henley Beach. I remember my first poetry reading like it was yesterday. Somewhat unsure of myself, I drew a deep breath and bared my soul to the gathered throng of poetry lovers. The ensuing positive reception I received convinced me to continue to write down what I felt, envisioned, and/or hallucinated on my long runs. As the years went by, I ran hundreds of miles, maybe even thousands, and the word count accumulated along with those miles. Australia was where I also got into competitive racing. On the weekends, I ran 20 plus-mile endurance runs on the sands of Henley Beach. I ran the annual 30Km South Australian Road Runners Club race many times, but it became less and less of a challenge. I could no longer ignore thoughts of running a marathon! I knew I had the distance in the bag since I was already running 20-plus mile runs each weekend on the beach. Completing that first marathon was just the beginning of my long-distance running career.Then, in June 2000, an injury crippled my running life. I had been training for the Corporate Cup, running with guys 20 years my junior and at their pace! My 5K time was a sub-20 minutes! Not bad for a fifty-year-old! But every runner knows that speedwork takes a toll on the body, and running hardcore like that resulted in very painful sciatica. I felt discouraged and depressed, and those feelings became apparent in my writing. When I think back to that time, I realize that writing had become my therapy, my way to understand my own fears and to express a hope I did not yet feel. Many of my poems, particularly, “footsteps in the sand" not only reveal my physical pain but also the mental anguish I felt. When the pain from my injury subsided—it took six long months—I felt the adrenaline urge again, but this time I replaced competitive racing with slow, long-distance running. Similarly, my writing style also changed: I started to write how I felt during those long runs in the form of race reports—instead of poetry—to memorialize my ultra-marathon experiences. My running life had finally pushed me forward into positive places on the trails and my spirit of running was renewed.