I find it intriguing that I'm more in tune with the elegance of movement now, after 15 years of running, where my focus was often fixated on the end goal.
This morning, I deliberately connected with the way my body flowed through the hilly mountain bike trails. I observed every nuance. I sought out the rhythm in my stride by consciously easing into a more fluid motion, replacing my tendency for jerky movements. I leaned into curves like a motorbike hugging a track, tackled ascents and descents with poise and momentum, and refined my foot positioning for alignment and grace in each step, from touch-down to liftoff.
Staying present demanded all the effort I could master.
And when my mind drifted, it wandered into questions like, "What if I had spent my early years simply honing the art of movement in running? Could I have become a faster runner? More graceful, perhaps? Would injuries have plagued me less? What about my longevity as a runner?"
"Is it too late to cultivate those subtle, foundational skills that culminate in exceptional running form?"
Definitely not. It's never too late.
In fact, this might just be the perfect time for me. As I grow older, the significance of outcomes shifts, taking on a different dimension.
This offers room to relish simple pleasures, like running with a sense of fluidity and flow.