Wholistic Fitness

THE TURQUOISE MOUNTAIN CHRONICLES; PART II
THE SKI/SNOWSHOE UP…and DOWN

Warrior Ready; ilg begins the predawn shuttles to reach the upper part of the Sacred Mountain

written by coach ilg

11:30 am Ski Transition, Mt. Taylor. Elevation 9,200′. Air temp: 23 degrees. Wind chill; you don’t want know.

1) Always be Prepared
2) Be On Time
3) Give 100% Effort

These three sage fundamentals of sport (and life) performance were taught to me by my first nordic ski coach, Olympian Mike Scott. I remember them at times like these, wrapped up like a human burrito in my Marmot sleeping bag, a most welcomed vestigial vestibule from my winter mountaineering years.

The wind shrieked and licked at my 14 ounce blue bag of down like an enraged sky monster. In mountaineering, when a storm forces you into bivouac, an anxious waiting game begins. Team adventure racing requires similar Practice of Patience. I had been cargo’d up to this snowy perch like a side of frozen beef since 6:30 am. I thought of my Sangha and did my best to apply what i teach during the long, cold hours waiting for the Hand Off from Haku. As the other athletes huddled around a nearby bonfire and army tent, chatting between chattering teeth, this WF Student used the 6 hours of freezing wind as a Pratyhara Gong; i went within = 45 minutes of Pranayama, 30 minutes of Zazen, 45 minutes of Tibetan Energywork supersetted with Yogic Subtle Anatomy Exercises. 20 minutes Chanting. 90 minutes of a stunningly beautiful ski warm up through ice-glazed pines filled with Raven Medicine.

{ilg; “Always Be Prepared”; my prep for my nordic ski helped produce the 3rd fastest time of the event – and the fastest sea level athlete time ever on the 11,300′ peak!}
The rest of the time i spent preparing my equipment, and facilitating the Very Important Sport Performance Matter of Addressing Elimination Issues. In SUNRIDER Herb lingo, i was having my “Slim Cap” Moments…which, given the environment, was challenging. Often, getting the hole shot for the port-a-john is the most vital maneuver of the race!

Pride Is A Burden
Pride is not to be cultivated by a Master Student of WF, nor any yogi, for that matter. However, i felt guiltless in awarding myself significant and lingering morsels of Pride for being so clever in my Waiting Game strategy. My bowels were empty, my Pranic reservoirs were amp’d, my visualizations were diamond sharp, my physical warm up was pro level. yes, i thought to myself, i suppose growing older does come with the advantage of experience. as i continued in the etheric patting of my yogic back for my exceptional handling of Being So Well Prepared the thought suddenly hit me like a thunderclap…i felt the Disturbance in the Force…

“Oh shit!” my inner alarm outshrieked the wind, “HAKU IS HERE!!!!!! Get UP, get OUT, get your SKIS ON…quiver your SNOWSHOES YOU IDIOT! HAKU IS HERE! You are going to miss the Transition!!”

In Kishido, the Way of the Western Warrior, the Master says, “To delay preparation until a situation is emergent is the hallmark of the foolhardy. The superior warrior employs his superior skills to avoid a situation in which he will be forced to call upon them.”

Pride is born from Ego and is thus meant to be destroyed by the yogin. It was indeed my Prideful thoughts that once again had caught me red handed with my spiritual pants down!

i could FEEL Haku…i could tell his arrival by pure CHI…i knew he was close to the Transition (well ahead of the loudspeaker’s projected time) and i could also tell he was charging toward me like a Raven on a jet stream tailwind. Rapport with telepathic elements has flowed within the fabric of my spiritual life. Such telepathy is a training effect from quality, consistent, and well guided training Practice. Some yogis and saints, it is said, can transmit very High states of vibration by extrasensory influence. In Hinduism, such transmission or ‘diksha’, can be effected by a glance, a gaze, a touch, a word, an embrace, or other gestures.

The well known WF diksha comes through sweat and high heart rates. WF Students receive and know well the power of the WF diksha whenever we train…when our WF Tribe trains, we become One. It is our “NamaWay”! The formal WF Online Students get the most Powerful WF diksha then It descends down through DL, books, dvds, articles, etc. Well, Haku had clearly rung the WF diksha gong and here i was lolling about in my goose down bag like an intestinal parasite engorging myself on my Pride. God, after all these years…even after so many meditation sessions….even after many podiums…still…such…an…absolute…idiot! ILG!!!!ARRRGH!!!!!

I then Witnessed myself perform a stunning display, a cataclysm of multitasking. A testimony to my LA lifestyle?! Within seconds i had broken down my bivouac, shouldered my snowshoes, grabbed my ski’s and poles and ran through the Transition Area bowling through the gathered flock of spectators and athletes like a prison escapee.

That’s when something made me turn my head over my shoulder, and look down the Run Up Course… i saw him; WF Teacher “Haku” Sheader in all of his WARRIOR CHI. he was a living, breathing poem of pure warrior pran! “Damn, i have trained him well,” went my endless Ego producing still more Pridefulness. Haku was a mere 40 meters distant and closing fast, yet…the moment stood as still as a frozen zen garden pond. Haku’s celtic tawny mane flowed behind him, his arms driven high churning his legs manufacturing a foot speed up the final ice covered 18% headwall that was unfathomable. His speed up the icy slope sprayed a rooster tail of ice and snow chunks into an albino Rorschach Test against the depth of mesa and mountains.

In races, like life, all you really get are Moments. Just one quality Moment from hours of suffering is more than enough to fuel months of more training for the next race, the next Moment. The Moment i will remember most from here will be Haku’s eyes. The Master’s say that the CHI can be felt most vividly through the eyes. Still distant from me, yet each Haku Eye glared in sharp relief against all else and seemed to hover right in front me. This was no longer an athlete running toward me, this was a wolf, prey in sight, target secured, full chi ahead.

“Fucking Braveheart is coming!” i thought i heard someone shout! i could not argue the description…i dove headfirst into the marmalade slush of the Hand Off area, somehow clipped into my skis, and within a flicker of a heartbeat, Braveheart had already transferred the ankle microchip from his ankle to my own while gasping, “I mowed down five out of ten, there are five more ahead of you. Go,” was all Sir William Wallace The Re-Incarnated breathed into me.

I went.

Up into the blizzard and now breathed my own breath, my own BraveHeart Warriorism up the steep, snowy, sensual slopes of Tsidool, a Sacred Mountain which i’ve known and loved my whole life.

Five competitors were ahead of me. Two were Norwegian cross country skiers. Some things never change in life. Chasing Norwegians through pine studded snow tracks is one of the constant themes of my Blessed and Cursed Life.

Yet today, feeble ilg felt the Mountains Gods within my spirit. I sensed they knew and appreciated my hard fought, daily battles to bring something of this Mountain Spirit to the Big City people.

Today, on this Sacred Mountain, feeble ilg was feeling,
not
so
feeble.

STAY TUNED FOR THE FINAL PART OF THE MT. TAYLOR CHRONICLES COMING NEXT ON DL!

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