Learning to Listen

Learning to Listen

It feels like forever that I’ve been calling myself a runner.  When asked, “What do you do?” the answer I would give proudly was, “I’m a runner.”  I began running in high school as part of the cross-country team. I was hooked on the adrenaline, the sweat, and the pounding of my heart was intoxicating. Later, it was an inexpensive way to stay in shape; all you need are shoes, shorts and t-shirt.    The road race bug soon bit me and before I knew it I was logging my miles, following training schedules and recording personal bests.

In 1998 I ran my second “Around the Bay” road race in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.  This race is a grueling 30km run around the Hamilton Bay, covering terrain ranging from flat to rolling hills and just before the end is the dreaded ‘hill of death’, marked by the Grim Reaper guiding you into the near by cemetery.    At about the 15km mark, I noticed a funny feeling in my left hip.  “No, no problem”, I told myself.  I can just ignore and push through.  My determination is surely greater than the pain I am feeling. I have never been injured so this can’t be happening.  Remarkably I finished but worse for wear.  I had pulled my hip flexor and was now in Physiotherapy for the next 6 months.  And we wonder why people refer to us as crazy.  Admittedly, I knew that this injury was all my own doing.  I had over-trained, under-stretched and pushed my body into places it didn’t’ want to go.  My body was trying to tell me but I just wasn’t listening; now my body was yelling. 



Walking home one day shortly after I finished physiotherapy, I noticed a sign on the light post.  It was for Yoga classes at a local church.  I had never thought of Yoga before and something inside of me said, “do it”.  This time I was listening and I heard my body telling me what it needed. 

Walking in for the first time I remember the huge timber beams of the ceiling in the Church.  The pews had all been moved to create the floor space needed.  The sun was still shining through the light of the stained glass windows and there was serenity about the space.  My teacher introduced herself and her peaceful, friendly demeanor put any nerves I had at ease instantly.  We began the class with a short Shavasana, as I am sure she new we were all newbies that would find laying still restricting at first.  She then brought us into some basic poses and as the class progressed, I began to hear something.  The years passed and I continued faithfully.  The classes soon moved to a studio and the practice became deeper.  As the sessions evolved and the practiced deepened, I heard my body for the first time.  I had finally learned to listen.  So often in activities or sports we choose, our response as humans is to allow the mind to dictate what the body does.  Our minds tell the body what to do…go faster, go longer, be stronger; all of which has some benefits to our overall health.  It is when pushed beyond its limitations do we find the body rebelling.  Yoga retrains us to have our body tell us how far it wants to go, how deep it wants to discover or that it may just want to rest. 

Self-awareness is something I never expected to find from Yoga.    I expected to find the flexibility, relaxation and possibly some strengthening but I never thought my ears and mind could be opened up so wide as to be able to really listen and hear my body and what it needs.  My Yoga journey continued over the next 12 years and 5 years ago I decided that teaching was the next path in life I would take.  Once I began teaching I found that my perspective on poses also changed.  Bringing someone, especially a beginner, to a pose for the first time and see their reaction to it is yet another mind opener for me.  They are learning to listen to their bodies and its needs.  Watching others discover their inner voice is yet another gift Yoga has given me. 

Yoga will always be a part of my day, my life.  Although I still run (yes, I know…still a crazy runner) I know when my body wants to go and when it needs to walk, and when it needs to stop.  I truly believe this inner voice; this switch you make to listen to your body instead of telling your body what to do has allowed me to continue to be active without injury over the last 12 years.  Now when people ask, “What do you do?” I respond proudly, “I teach Yoga”.