Wholistic Fitness

click on photos to enlarge your chi hit…my race report from The 43rd Annual La Luz Trail Race…may this benefit your own Practice:

a big Sacred mountain…

and…

a humble WF yogi…

just getting to the Start Line…
just toeing the Start Line among hundreds of sport-specific runners, many of whom are wearing “Hardrock 100 Mile” t-shirts and speaking in cavalier terms of coming off 90-mile-per-week running volumes can be, i admit, downright scary for us WF athlete warriors who refuse to specialize for the sake of wholeness.

350 runners gathered. we’ve got 2 miles of 12% uphill pavement until we hit the La Luz singletrack; a sinewy snake of an ancient footpath that takes as direct a possible line up the gut of Sandia Peak to the Finish Line on the summit rim; elevation 10, 678′.

The Start Gun fires.

“There is no self-mastery without discipline,” the Simone Weil quote comes to mind as i start my chronograph watch in sync with the “BOOM” of the Gun. i take third row, knowing from my feeble running volumes this summer that i only have a quality 1 hour and 45 minutes of steep uphill running in me.

after an hour and a half?

unknown territory. it’ll be a tight squeeze for my run fitness. the winner in my Age Group is gonna crack 1:45. there are 35 in my Age Group. the average age of racers in this classic race is 42 years old. Simon Guiterrez who has won this thing 9 times in the past 12 years is precisely 42. he’ll win again this year in another remarkable time of 1:22. dat’s right; 1:22. he’ll soar up and over the 9 mile, 4,680′, 6 -climate zone, single track course covering each horrendously steep mile in 9 minutes and 11 seconds. Ananda figured i could capably run 15-minute miles. i figured she was about right.

ilg just wonders if Guiterrez bleeds red. would love to put him in a Downdog, see what his flexibility is like. wonder what he can Bench? how many pull ups can he crank? then again, that’s just ilg…a die-hard Wholeness Professional. i respect sport-specific athletes. i do not, however, worship them. here is what ilg worships: Wholeness, versatility, balance, symmetry.

my Sacred Duty today, being a La Luz virgin is to gun it for what i know i can do; an hour and 45 minutes of uphill suffering, then, hang on. i figure my gas will run out close to the summit where, since everyone is hurting anyway, i can rely on my mountaineering experience and just speed walk the rest and limit damage.

“There is no greater source of discipline than the effort demanded in overcoming obstacles,” wrote Weil. As i hit the singletrack in the top 75 of the 350 peleton, i thought; okay; i’ve got myself my obstacle; 7 more miles of single track up a Sacred Peak. let’s party!

my new running shoes:

Nitrus Trail Running Shoe

are gripping the Lower Sonoran singetrack like crazy good. this trail is something like Vishnu Himself created while being intoxicated on whatever it is that the Deities get off on…this thing switchbacks so many times in her first three miles that i was getting nauseous. and high…airplane high. the canvas of the Rio Grande Valley was dropping like a granite boulder away from my flying feet. passing slower runners was an exercise of dynamic and dangerous yoga…

“On your left!” i would huff at my next victim in front of me and then accelerate, shrug my right shoulder and torso past him like an alpine skier brushing past a slalom gate. if misstep? the plunge straight off the narrow path and down the cholla cacti covered slope would be brutal.

back to Discipline.

the word itself means to be a Disciple.
so, i make myself a Disciple of La Luz…”the Light”.

to be Disciplined…to be a Disciple requires no wisdom. no talent, nor intelligence. Discipline requires not strength, beauty, or bravery.

to be a Disciple requires but one shining quality; listening and, here comes the hardest part; acting appropriately.

as Yogi Jesus’s Disciples gathered at His feet, they Listened to His Dharma.

they then attempted to Act Appropriately…and well, you know how the Story goes…turns out that chillin’ at the Master’s Feet is one thing, getting off on His DharmaTalks…but then, as the shit hits the fan, well, the gig turns suddenly sour and too steep as the resistance becomes greater.

Mile 7 comes fast as i lead a small group toward an water station headed by Boy Scouts. sadly, i must stop at each of these three Water Stations and do my Yogi Squat (Ilg Wheelchair) to energetically vent the most searing of my broken-back and bone-on-bone hip joint pain. as i squat and drink, the group of six that i was leading fly past me, bewildered why i would stop. little do they know that they have followed a broken-back yogi all this time.

up ahead and the resistance of Sandia Peak is growling. i am approaching the “Landslide Section”…a mile of traversing into and out from a huge boulder-sized talus field. each of these rocks are 1.4 billion years-old. that alone turns me on and i find a new, higher gear…i’m at about an hour and thirty-five minutes and feel like Cinderella approaching midnight…i wanted to be higher on the mountain by now. i use my yogic nimbleness to dance up and over this section through which several of the runners are now delicately walking up, scared of turning an ankle.

if being a Disciple requires acting appropriately in the face of great resistance, then ilg figures uphill mountain running is perhaps one of the greatest resistances available to a yogi. Just a glance upward and still seeing how far away is the summit – and knowing that animals like Guitterez have already been finished for several minutes – is humbling at a time when confidence is needed. so, i force my egoic escapades to return to the Mantra and am at it again; one foot in front of the other.

sometimes walking.
sometimes lunging like a Sasquatch…
sometimes tiny-step jogging…
yet always upward, upward, upward.

the altitude is noticeable as is the vista sprawling beneath me…i lean on my Mantra.

the guy who i’ve been pacing from this entire race suddendly pulls over and lets me pass.

this is surprising. he has done this race 18 times. dat’s right; 18 times. looks like a runner; wiry and maybe 105lbs sopping wet. i basically walk past him, this time, it is i that is bewildered.

knowing that the final half-mile is the most steep of all and includes a 100′ staircase i ask him, “is the final half-mile anywhere close?”

“yes,” he replies, “after exiting the Landslide, a few switchbacks, then, when you hit the Aspens, you’re almost home.”

aspens, i lingered with the word and invoked their image. love aspens. from Lower Sonoran Desert up and into the thick, lush foilage of the SubAlpine Zone of aspens and firs. you guys have GOT to do this race!

an hour and fifty five minutes. Despite my resolve, this Sacred Peak is too big today for my racing capacities. my legs turn turn to stumps. Every cell, every organ is now reporting in:
“Overload! Overload! Overload!”

past the Landslide and i face the final half-mile. i realize it’s gonna take a world-class achievement to stay close to 2 hours and i ain’t got it.

minutes pass more rapidly than my 180 HeartBeats per minute driven breath. breaking the 10,300′ mark and the air seems to get no further than my throat before exiting.
Lightheaded.
i now scamper up the staircase and hear the shouts of the gathered crowd on the Finish Line.

my wheels have come off and coordination of breath and running mechanics has long since left my body vehicle. behind me, a former champion of this race, Ben Wakashige, now age 60, is slobbering on my heels. his 6-decade old breathing apparatus a monster roar up my spine. we have been sharing a religion of Uphillism for the past hour, encouraging each other from within our own Pain Caves. “Hills make all men brothers,” is a favorite quote of mine and here on this Sacred Southwest Peak, airplane high over the rest of mediocrity, i and Ben – regardless of age – are indeed brothers…forever and endlessly linked by our Shared Sweat.

Now, with the Finish just one switchback away,
i find myself stopping, reaching back and offering a hand to a staggering Champion whose effort is Herculean…i want him to take the glory of the final summit yards.
i back off, giving the former Champion some space in which to bask in his well-earned applause and recognition.

Though my limbs were as heavy as iron and my tortured body hard and massy,
i guess my ego was still fresh and alive for i saw no reason to throw my head back and slosh myself across the Finish Line in front of all these people…so i straightened my spine, put some grace in my steps, and relaxed my face as i hit the Line.

If i created WF,
and if WF means nothing if not:
“Elegance in Difficulty,”
then,
by God,
i damn well better cross the Line with some degree of Elegance.

and i did; i let my body self-correct and i let go into the Finishing Crowd…
the mountain,
this mountain,
my mountain
smiled at me
through all those faces…
the cheers like a aspen wind given voice.

at the summit, i looked out over the Land i love so much,
and
smiled.

there is not a race when i do not learn more about myself,
nor the Dharma.

age, you see Oh Noble Seeker of Union, is an asset.

Wisdom Mind, Wisdom Body.

“If you’re lucky enough to be a runner,” the Hopi say, “than you are lucky enough.”

special thanks to my little brother Craig, and his Clan; Gwen, Ella,and Alazar and my mom and dad for coming out to support my pilgrimage up the Peak!

PHOTO GALLERY:
photo #1; Sandia Peak from the Rio Grande Bosque. by ilg.
photo #2; at the Start Line. by Craig Ilg.
photo #3; the suffering begins. by Craig Ilg.

at the Summit…i finished 15th in my Age Group, 106th Overall out of 350, my average pace was 14:25 which put me across the Finish Line in 2:09. now, if i could line up the 105 guys in front of me for a bike race up the Peak the next day…

photos by Craig Ilg.

my nephew, Alazar, and i in a fist pump at the Summit. photo by Craig Ilg

after the race, a well-earned hot tub and swim with my Dewachen…

photo by Ananda.

Dewa, inspired by Daddy’s race day, shows all the potential for being a Champion of La Luz herself as Amma Ananda attempts to contain the Dewa chi!

photo by ilg.

of course, i can’t get enough of the New Mexican spirit…
i love it down here so much…

photos by ilg.

from the Can Do Clan to your Clan…
May you drive yourself in the sacred toil of being a Disciple
and believe that your life is full of meaning. May Pain be your Teacher,
and may it give you True Marks to measure your ascent to your personal
summit…

and may your Glory be Go(o)d…

that is all,

from your coach who still does the do for you

***

the La Luz Race will run it’s 44th annual race next august. be there. only 350 runners are allowed to compete in this race which Trail Runner Magazine ranked as one of the top 12 Most Brutal Races In America. website:
La Luz Trail Run