When The Dharma Flows Too Greatly…

Published on Sep 20, 2008 by in Cardio, Chi Hits


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i struggle greatly with the amount of dharmic deluge which sometimes courses and at other times infiltrates, and then at times coyly flirts within the strands of this self called, ‘steve ilg’.

the struggle comes from choosing which teensy tiny parcel of It All
i should attempt to hatchet into words and occasional pictures for you,
my cherished warriors of this humble, powerful Path of self transformation through personal
and lifestyle fitness.

yesterday morning 6:00 am.
my musculature greets my Early Morning Ritual with creaks and groans from teaching
PROP WORKOUT to 13 warriors just hours previous.

from the new WF Temple H(om)e at nearly 7,400′, each morning my eyes and soul are graced by
a tremendous spectacle of Grandfather Sun splashing His rays into the near freezing temperatures
of Fort Valley…each morning i lift thine eyes unto the Sacred Peak, delightfully playing peak-a-boo
from with svelte cloud caps…my mountaineering spirit still wrenches my body and mind to be up there,
in those rocky heights, climbing my guts out until nothing is left of ilg save for pure, unadulterated spirit.

for now however,
ilg is domesticated; pinned to the zen and mantra of new daddyhood

father of a live-in Rinpoche fresh from the Bardo; teeming with Teachings of everyday zen…

partner of a great saint, MahaAnandaMaitreyaMayiMi (aka; Joy), whose absolute and unconditional and totally engaged and present Love of our Rinpoche Dewachen brings my heart to a standstill and my spirit to heights greater than that of any peak i’ve had the honor of standing atop.

Yesterday morning; 9:00 am
the pranic dousing from my Early Morning Ritual once again worked enough magic to get my creaky legs and acidic abs out for what was supposed to be a Zone 2 jog (jogging is when there is no pain, running is when your effort is partnered up with pain). BuddhaVille (formerly known as, Baderville…the country district where we now live), is laced with world-class running and mountain biking and snow trails cobwebbing their way all around and from each direction of our new h(om)e. i chose a loop which i call, Sabi Meadow Loop which the alert DL Reader will recall from previous entries. for the first 20 minutes this Loop seduces you through an enchanted ponderosa forest along a softly padded red earth carpet. Grandfather Sun dishes and dashes His light, filtered through long pine needles, often illuminating the sudden flash of a Northern Flicker wingbeat or a coyote, perhaps.

i open and then close behind me a barbed wire fence, tacked precariously on a moss rock hillside and start jogging up a slight incline toward Sabi Meadow. the Meadow itself greets me with a splendor all its own. i love this Meadow; i snowshoe train here in the shock of twilight cold and have celebrated New Years Eve upon her frozen flank of snow. this morning however, my dewy footfalls upon her hide, tangled with wildflowers clinging desperately to these last days of summer. ilg is in love again.

through the second of two barbed wire fences, i yogi squat in the glimmering light, now at the edge of where pine forests meet the Meadow. birdsong surrounds me as i bow my chin into Jalandhara Mudra and crank off a Pranayama Appetizer…a WF technique which throttles the PranaVayu and makes all of life leap.

jogging downhill along a snakelike coil of singletrack forged through the forest floor, i find myself the center point of a herd of Long-Horn cattle; big ones. they lift their tremendous heads, staring at my feeble body yet still sense that i am somehow higher on the food chain and thus begin thumping along. running among these invincible beasts makes ilg a wee nervous. i have history with Long-Horns.

once while mountain biking alone out in the remote Weminuche Wilderness near Pagosa Springs, Colorado where i lived, i once initiated a stampede of 100+ head of Long-Horns…ilg riding his mountain bike right smack in the middle of the thundering herd! not able to see through the dust storm kicked up from the hundreds of hooves, swords of horns engulfing me on either side, it was all i could do to maintain balance on my bike among them! if i had fallen? the millions of pounds of beast would have trampled ilg into mincemeat beneath them.

this morning however, no such drama unfolded and another minute later, a family of Mule Deer led by a startling handsome 7-point buck alerted to my passing and leaped like dryland dolphins on my left side.

have i painted such an image for you yet? jogging along a pine forest path, splintered by fresh sun through moistened needles, a family of Long-Horns on my right and a clan of Mule Deer on my left? tell me how Blessed is the life of a mountain yogi? i ran among my new neighbors, shouting in rhythm with my footfalls;

“Ai Imawa!
Om Mani Padme Hung!
i am yogi!
i love you!
Om Mani Padme Hung!”

at mile 5.7, Wing Mountain Forest Road is met and i take a right. in a few minutes, the pain of my spine injury requires a yogi squat and when i squat? new thunder arrives in the form of two runners from
McMillian Elite Running
fly past me and nod in the way the world-class nod.

i return their nod as i pretend to tie my shoe.
yeah right. the ilg ego knows no bounds.

back to my own running, i know better than to try to pace off these runners who can crank 4:30 miles for distances 10k and over. so, i’m disciplined enough to keep jogging down the Forest Road, then sense-hearing the near silent flight of a Jedi Warrior behind, i turn around and see Giliat Ghebray flashing past me.

okay, enough is enough…knowing full well that Ethiopian in front of me has
Personal Records which include running a mile in 4:02 and a cross-country 10k of 29 minutes, i accelerate up to Zone 4 to attempt to keep Giliat in sight.

bursting out of the forest and onto the final stretch of pavement which is as straight as a Dharma Arrow for 9/10ths of a mile to my h(om)e, i can only watch as Giliat dances away from my heaving, gasping cattle-like by comparison gait. As the McMillian Elite runners take a left right before my home, i calculate that Giliat put 1:24 into me within less than a mile.

oooof. why must the Truth hurt so?

ironically, Joy was walking Dewa to the chicken coop and was witnessing all of this. She told me later that after Giliat made the left in front of our h(om)e, he turned on the real gas and caught the two runners in front of him and dropped them.

the McMillian Elite squad trains 2-3x out here due to the flat roads and access to hilly forest roads all at an elevation of 7,300′ – 8,000′. it’s quite inspiring to watch these fleet footed running warriors and warrioresses from our porch…

yesterday morning…

to your own Devoted Practice i bow…

keep it cranked
and most of all;
keep all your workouts turned within…

your coach

photo #1; Ananda (in profile), Dewa, and a BuddhaVille sunset from our front yard. photo by ilg.
photo #2; Dewa and aspen detail. photo by ilg
photo #3; Ananda and i, partner asana. photo by Melissa Grimes

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