Moving Within

Aaahh Lanzarote - the home of yoga. Ok, it's not actually the home of yoga, but it's MY home of yoga. It's where I discovered yoga, where I 'got' yoga. I found what it could do for me, how it could make me feel and it's where I realised that I needed its teachings for the rest of my life. I'm back to the source, in Lanzarote just now, and my body is thanking me for it.

I'm not in a peaceful retreat, tucked away from civilisation, with only the yoga to fill my day. Couldn't be more opposite actually. I'm in the athlete's Mecca that is known as Club La Santa. Every turn you take brings you face to face with another ironman triathlete (spot the tattoo) whether that's at the Olympic pool, running track, bike station station or sitting in the pool bar sipping a beer. You can fill your day with anything from step aerobics to windsurfing, or indeed yoga.

I first came here in August 2008, 1 month before the World Duathlon Championships, for which I had qualified and was hopeful of winning a medal at. I'd persuaded my husband Kenny that we should come here, and when he'd finally agreed i planned out a week of full on training. I was going to be the fittest I'd ever been and I was going for gold.

What actually happened by the time we got here was that I was struggling with injury and general body pain. I hadn't been able to run for weeks and biking was going down the same road. I wasn't in the greatest of places mentally by time we got here.

Kenny loved the place immediately (thankfully!). I on the other hand felt like a child standing outside the toy shop window watching all the others kids playing with the latest coolest toys. Everywhere I turned there was a triathlete wearing their 'uniform' as if to rub it in even more. I tried to run, no chance. I tried to bike, forget it. I tried to swim, even that hurt. I aqua-jogged, it felt wrong. I worked my way through everything I could on the timetable of activities and each time I reached a blockade. My body was telling me in every way it could possible that it had had enough. But still I was determined to make it move and 'do something productive'.

So on day 3 I tried yoga.

I remember sitting on the lawn, in the sun, thinking to myself that this was not what I'd planned for my week. I couldn't quite believe I was sitting there. To be fair, it was something that I'd always felt I should do, but i wasn't sure why. I'd just always been told it was good for me. So i thought I'd better just get on with it and see what happened. Then the teacher arrived. He was not at all what I'd expected to see. This man was strong, athletic, and dare I say it, tough looking. He looked like an athlete. He looked like the most athletic of athletic triathletes, but he was sitting on the stage barefooted, cross legged and about to teach yoga. He had an ironman backpack with him. i prepared to feel upset.

We sat for about 10 minutes crossed legged as he talked. His strong welsh accent was rich and mellow. It's tone was calming yet commanding. I was drawn in, and I was listening. He talked us through breath. He talked, I listened. As I followed his words I became aware for the first time of the band of tightness constricting me around my centre. I realised I couldn't breathe. I was an elite athlete, yet I couldn't breathe. I focussed on what he was saying and I found parts of me I had never before experienced. I was scared to breathe where he was directing breathe. I thought my breathe would stop and never start again, or that i'd split in two if I breathed the muscles looser. But I felt my breathe, and myself, start to open up. I concentrated on his words as he set the direction for the class. 'This is not a competition. There is no winning or losing. There is about YOU, YOUR body, and YOUR yoga. It doesn't matter what other people are doing, this is about you'. It felt like I'd been given permission to take a break and stop trying. For the rest of the class I just followed his words. When he told me to put my hands in a particular position I did. When he gave the harder option and I couldn't do it I stayed with the lower. He 'd told me it was ok, that this was about my limits, that I would get there, in my own time when I was ready. I trusted him. We didnt do a lot of moves, but i had moved a lot!

His classes became my sanctuary in the week. I handed over pain and worry and simply followed direction. In return I found newness. I connected with prana and I wanted to connect more.

Coming back home my life path and outlook changed. It was going to anyway, it had to. I was worn out, exhausted and heading for meltdown in one way or other. I gave up competing, i trained in pilates and completely shifted my working life. My health and quality of life increased dramatically.

I cant say that Steve's yoga was the start of the change. There were many factors at play at that time. But I can say that it was there at the beginning of the change. For that reason alone his teaching will always have an important place in my heart.

And so I'm here again, having a week of Steve's yoga. This time mixed in with a week of running, mountain biking, swimming and chillaxing. My body now embracing the variety. Yesterday I was there at his class, eagerly awaiting his direction. We sat and contemplated and listened to our body before moving at it's pace and will. It's my fourth year of being at his class and I'm still joyed at the simplicity of his teaching and the utter obviousness of his comments. Within a couple of minutes I was grinning inside like a Cheshire cat. My body released where it needed and found new movement. And the words that really struck a chord to me were as follows: 'your body will only go where it can go today. Do not force it, do not TRY to make it happen today. When your body's ready it WILL happen - trust the process, trust yourself, trust your body, trust life'. 'What you put in is what you get out. It's like that in life. Your body is a reflection of your life.'

And I also loved the moment when we were sitting in a twist and he stubbed his toe while unfolding. Under his breath, ever so faintly, hardly interrupting his flow, in a rich mellow welsh accent: ''f***'' I loved it because it showed me that he can tap into his centre, block out external distractions and focus into his depth. But at the end of the day, when you stub your toe and it hurts then sometimes you just gotta swear out loud. I like that.

When Paths Cross

People come into, and out of, your life for all sorts of reasons. Today I caught up with Caroline Williams who I have known for a good few years. We hadn't seen each other for a couple of years, at least, but have come back around into each others circle again through a mutual friend. Being in touch with Caroline again has reminded me of all the reasons that we met in the first place. We had a mutual client who reckoned we had such similar interests and outlooks that she told us to just get on and meet one another! I cant remember who contacted who first, but that's exactly what we did! I was so glad we had. Caroline is very upbeat, passionate about what she does, loves the outdoors, loves mountains and keeps putting herself way out of her comfort zone! My kind of gal!

Her business is called the Good Therapist, and let me assure you that Caroline has goodness knitted through her in the finest gold thread from top to toe.

Caroline also set up "When Paths Cross" in 2010 "to enable good things to come out of chance meetings". The story of how this came about has so inspired me. Please allow me to share it with you.....

Caroline leads treks in, amongst other places, India. In 2000 she met a kid working in the streets of Delhi. Despite everything she logically knew telling her to not engage in conversation with him, that he was out to con or rob her, something he said made her laugh and she couldn't help but be taken by him. They talked and walked and Champu, as he was called, told her about a festival that he could take her to that evening. Caroline agreed, was skeptical, but intrigued and felt somehow that she should take a trust in life. That trust led to a very true friendship being formed. Champu never once asked for anything from Caroline, and instead he proudly paid at least his own way when they had tea or shared a rickshaw, despite his obvious poverty. He told her he considered himself very fortunate, as he had a roof above his head, a family, and a good part of the street to work on. He invited Caroline to visit his home, at which she no doubt felt very honoured, to then feel incredibly overwhelmed. Having seen much abject poverty via her travels she was unprepared for the small tent in which he and his whole family lived in, along with the raw sewage running like a stream through the middle of it. Although he knew his poverty, Champu remained proud, and would take nothing from Caroline. I can imagine Caroline's distress at seeing all this, but understanding of her friend's wishes.

Back in the UK, Caroline remained in contact with Champu as a couple of times a year he was able to access a computer. At the beginning of 2010 she heard that the "clean up" for the Commonwealth Games meant that the street workers were being cleared from their streets and that Champu was for the first time ever worried about his situation. He didn't know how he would manage to provide for his family, but said he would find a way. He was determined to somehow save for an electric rickshaw so that he could make a better life. He proudly told Caroline what he had saved, which was a sheer drop in the ocean of what he needed. Caroline had always been determined somehow to help Champu, but had never quite known how. This became a no brainer for her. She decided she would somehow get his rickshaw for him - she had no idea how, she just knew she would!

What she actually decided to do was to enter the Trans Britain 6 day Ultra Run - 156 miles run over 6 days from Scotland to Wales. You assume Caroline was a runner already? Eh, that'll be a no! And that's exactly why she chose that event, this had to be a massive challenge for her. It had to be something that she was unsure she could do, that would be worthy of people sponsoring her, and it really had to take her out of her comfort zone (I wasn't joking about that side of her!).

9 months later she did it. She finished it, stress fracture and all. And she raised over £6000 in the process.

When in October 2010 she went to India to tell Champu what she had done (he'd known nothing about what she was doing for him), and to buy him his rickshaw, he was lost for words. That is until he understood what she had physically put herself through to which he told her, quite rightly, that she was "crazy, real crazy". Then he really understood what she had done for him and told her (quite rightly) that she was amazing. Caroline says that it was only when watching the video of the event with Champu that SHE finally realised what she had done. I can imagine that that moment felt very special for her.

I'm inspired in so many ways by what Caroline has done. I'm inspired by her trust in life which led to the friendship. I am inspired by her respect for cultural differences. I am inspired by the loyalty with which she remained in touch with Champu over the years. I am inspired by her decision to do something. I'm inspired by the sheer scale of the event that she took on and the mental, emotional and physical strength that it must have taken to complete. And I am inspired by this answer that she gave on her FAQ page on her website:

What about all the kids that need help in the UK?

I know, I know!! This is always a dilemma - but I’ve realised that I can’t help everyone and rather than get paralysed by that feeling of helplessness I’m just going to do my best to help who I can and hope it inspires others to do the same. If you feel your heart is more into helping someone else then please do so...............you’re under no obligation to donate to my charity. I just hope that what I’m doing reminds you that we all are capable of making a difference, and not to get put off by the enormity of it all. Everything and anything is possible.

I am so incredibly glad to have crossed Caroline's path again.

[oh, and since she needs to come out of her comfort zone again, she's going to be running 98km in under 26 hours, with almost 5600m height gain in August this year. "crazy, really crazy"]

http://web.me.com/kezbanb/whenpathscross/Home.html

http://www.thegoodtherapist.co.uk/

Let the dancing begin

I love "Got to Dance". One of the things that I enjoy most about this programme is that it's all about the dancing! We don't watch a collection of battles between judges and contestants when the contestant thinks they have a god given right to be put through, or where the judge thinks it's ok to ridicule someone who has got up and given it a go. What you are then left to view is a melting pot of those with outrageous talent, those with a burning passion and those who simply have fun dancing. The girl who isn't perhaps the most precise mover is applauded by the judges for giving it her all and really letting go. Those who don't quite make it are given proper critiques about where it was great and where they can up their game. And then there are those that just take your breath away! And there are many.

The stories that go with these dancers are also not sugary coated sob stories aimed at getting your vote. No one gets though on a sob story, if they're not good enough to go through then they're not good enough to go through! The stories compliment the performance and help you understand the role that dance has had to play in that person's life.

There was the girl who loved ballet from her early years yet was told as a young teenager that she'd never make it due to the scoliosis in her back. She'd lost her place at a top ballet school and was left to pick up the pieces herself. Here she now was, unable to live without dance she'd found contemporary dance with its less stringent rules and freer form. One of the judges was gasping

from the sheer emotion exuding from her performance (I was crying!). At the grand old age of 15 she'd decided that dance WAS her career regardless of what she'd been told and that she WOULD make it happen. She was well on the way.

http://youtu.be/_cauMIpJ-gs

There was the young boy who'd not been put through last year, but given lots of positive reasons why he wasnt quite ready. A year later he was stronger, more determined and unbelievably good! Infact there were a few faces from the year before, all who'd been given encouragement rather than ridicule and all who had made the experience a positive driver for improvement - and all who made it through this year.

http://youtu.be/OUTEZsd2VV4

And there was the group of lads who openly admitted that they had all been bullies, had all been in trouble and that actually they hadn't really been very nice. Little toughies they were, all no more than 15. And there they were cheerleading! Throwing their pom poms up and down and doing high kicks as if to say 'come on then, say what you will. We don't care because what we do know is that we feel good when we do this!" They rocked!
http://youtu.be/kenX6gEljo8

I've been watching the programme each week now since it came back on and have been moved to tears by almost every contemporary dance performance. It's a form of dance that draws me in and evokes a myriad of emotions in me. Last year I started doing contemporary and the feeling it gave me was like nothing else I have tried. It felt so freeing, strong, elegant, graceful, expressive and rebellious all at the same time. Then I stopped. I know why and essentially it came down to me just not being fully ready to let the dancer in me out! And instead I've been harping on about missing it, making excuses and saying that I must get back to it at some point. Watching these amazing dancers has made me realise that it's only me missing out and when you really want to do something then it's quite simple - just do it! So I've signed back up and am going to be back in the dance studio on Friday. I cant wait! When you've got to dance then you've just got to dance!

The Art of Bouldering

I've been climbing on a weekly basis now for 7 months. It has been such a life enriching decision for me and I now can't imagine my life without it.

Through it I have undoubtedly become stronger, more flexible and more balanced. I've understood how my body can manoeuvre itself into different positions and shapes to gain better hold and balance on the wall. I have also faced fears (some of which I didn't even know I had), gained confidence, learned to trust and had the odd few emotional moments half way up a rope where I've just had to work through whatever's been going on that's stopping me going further.

It's also given me a new way to connect mind and body, as in order for me to climb well one cannot work without the other. When my body is in flow my mind lets go and allows it travel. When my body is stuck my mind looks and feels for different patterns and angles and new directions. My body has to then trust the possibility of this solution and try it out. Together they get me further. When I am stressed, frustrated and rushed my climbing doesn't feel so good. When I am calm, open minded and curious I just get lost in my climbing.

Yesterday I was enjoying playing about with the different challenges of the bouldering room when I was presented with one of the most inspiring sights that I have ever seen. I watched a climber place himself onto the first hold of the route I had been struggling with earlier. I was curious to see how he would tackle it.

What I actually saw was pure art in motion. The lightness with which he lifted himself dazzled me. The ease with which he moved from one hold to the next memorised me. He stopped occasionally to consider where he was and where he would go next. He was quite literally hanging upside down, yet it looked as simple for him as if he were just looking up from reading a book for a moment of reflection. These pauses didn't interrupt his rhythm, they WERE part of his rhythm - like moments of peace within the overall movement. He was moving in positions I hadn't even thought possible on a wall and although I knew they must require great strength I couldn't see any effort in his muscles. It was hypnotic.

As I watched him I knew that I had seen so many great climbers, I have watched films of the world's best, but never have I witnessed anything like this. What I haven't been able to connect with before was the silence that went with this magnificent sight. You could have heard a pin drop and I was as lost in his climb as he was. When he finally came down, he dropped himself gracefully down onto the mats and shook his arms out. I breathed out. He had in every sense taken my breathe away.

I had to speak to him, and thank him for what I'd just seen. He was such an unassuming person who clearly just loved to climb and be at one with the wall. He seemed to have no idea how beautifully he moved.He certainly had no idea just what his climb had done for me. But he did infact show me just what is possible. He has motivated me to one day be able to move with such grace, strength and fluidity. He has given me even more desire to continue to experiment with movement in all planes and direction which can only benefit my work. More simply than that, he has given me a beautiful memory from which to draw inspiration from whenever I need.

Oh, and his name was 'Geek'. I liked that!