It was mile 20 of my first trail marathon. My legs were useless, my lungs on fire, my feet felt like they were made of lead. I was only about 6 miles from the finish line but it may as well have been 600.
Just as I was seriously doubting whether or not I could complete this feat of endurance, adding insult to injury, almost directly at 20-mile marker, I found myself staring up into the teeth of brutal mile-long upward climb for a gain of significant altitude. This crushed my spirits. I was done. Wrecked. Spent. Game over.
Prior to the race, my twin brother had made a playlist for me to listen to as a way of supporting me on what was to be my most intense physical endurance to date. The night before, I'd loaded the songs onto my iPod and had made a point to not look at the content so that each song would be a surprise. On the run, right about mile 7, I laughed out loud to hear that one track on his mix was simply my brother’s voice shouting at me, "Run! Run! Run! . . . Keep running! . . . Don't stop running."
So there I was at mile 20, ready to expire and quit the race. At that point, my plan was simple: crawl under a rock to die. Just as I'm looking around for suitable rocks to call my final resting place, into my earbuds bursts the powerful and iconic power chords of the heart-pumping adrenaline anthem, Eye of the Tiger by Survivor (fitting), the theme song used in at least one of the Rocky movies.
I know that you know the song, so don't pretend you don't. Sing along with me, "Dun. . . dun, dun, dun . . . dun, dun, duuuun. . . 'Risin' up, back on the street . . . Just a man and his will to survive ."
I'm embarrassed to say it but as cheeseball as that song is, and as much as my inner-hipster would have loved to just roll eyes or chuckle and continue on with plan A (dying under a rock), hearing that song caused something to stir inside of me. With Eye of the Tiger thumping in my ears, my eyes suddely focused, my legs found some steel, and I forgot the burn in my lungs. Fueled by some hidden and mysterious power, I started to CRUSH up that slope with singular resolve.
"It's the eye of the tiger, It's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival. And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night and he's watching us all with the eye . . . OF THE TIGER!"
Now, I can't even read those lyrics with a straight face, however at the time nothing could have been more serious. At the top of that hellacious hill, I found myself even doing victory leaps, pounding my fist in the air as enthusiastically as Rocky Balboa himself.
Having conquered the hill, I continued to finish the run, which, incidentally, was my very, very improbable plan B.
So one minute I felt as if I was ready to die from exhaustion with absolutely no energy whatsoever left in me and the next minute I had crushed a mile-long monster hill and still had enough energy to run another 5 miles to finish the race. No fuel. No sugar. No caffeine. A cheesy rock anthem was my drug.
So what is that about?! I mean really. This slapped the face of what I thought my legit physical limits were and suggests that maybe they are more plastic than I thought.
The topic of limiters, specifically the plasticity of one’s limits, has fascinated me, especially as I've explored my limits as it pertains to running but can relate to all kinds of other limits we and others place on our capacity. The notion of your limits being plastic is provocative.
Since my first killer trail marathon, I've been using some powerful techniques that help me understand limits for what they are: "perceived" limitations. I try not to see limits as Truth but rather beliefs. Beliefs are plastic. We’ve all verified this, we've all accomplished the impossible against all odds at sometime or other, right? When have YOU accomplished the impossible against all odds. I’d love to hear about it.
I propose that we have much more power over our perceived limits than we think we do.
You can train a dog not to leave the yard for fear of getting a shock for doing so, a response that has been conditioned into that dog’s brain even when there is no longer a mechanism that administers shocks. Likewise, we fail to see the truth about many of our own perceived limitations.
What do you feel are your limitations in life? Do you have a boss you're tired of? Do you believe that you can never get ahead in your finances, or that you will never meet the love of your life?
In Yoga his misapprehension about limits (or anything else, really) is called Avidya, or the antithesis of clear seeing. First, understanding that we might have a misapprehension about something we've previously thought as truth with a capital “T” is a huge step in the right direction. So, to call our limitations perceived limitations rather than iron-clad barriers is very powerful in itself.
One of my favorite learning modules in my online Yoga Nidra immersion and teacher training explores the science and psychology of Yoga Nidra and how we can use meditation to see past the perceived limitations that our mind imposes on us.
In many ways, setting goals is simply an experiment in testing what you believe is possible. If you don’t believe a goal is even possible, that is a non-starter. Believing it’s possible is perhaps the first step to accomplishing it, or at very least gets you in the door.
If you’re interested in exploring how Yoga Nidra can help you begin the process of accomplishing your goals and discovering the plasticity of what might be possible, whether that’s getting your finances under control, finding the love of your life, or crushing up an impossibly steep hill on a trail marathon, try my Yoga Nidra for Goals practice on the Resources Page. Also, you may be interested in my suite of Yoga Nidra recordings called Essential Yoga Nidra Vol. 1 which includes Yoga Nidra for Goals as well as several other specialized Yoga Nidra practices including, Yoga Nidra for Stress, Yoga Nidra for Grief, Yoga Nidra To Start Your Day, Yoga Nidra for Healing, and many others.
Reply to this and leave a comment about those times that you’ve accomplished the impossible and what you think about your mind’s ability to redefine your limits.
Namaste,
