"I used to, but I can't any more." This is not always so.....

Subtitle headline: Teacher Goes On Learning!

A photo I took of Paul Collins on his run from Helston to Minehead in 1981
(Helston in Cornwall and Minehead in Devon - 162 miles in 4 days. He then ran the 220 miles to London.)

I used to run everywhere..... What was the point in walking if I could run? Why walk when the joy of running felt so much fun - lighter, free, sometimes even like flying.... And I ran as I got older, not a sort of 'everyday-ready-for-a-marathon' type run, but I could run for a bus, step on the gas a bit when out with the dog, chase the children, win at school sports days... Then it got tough for some reason - no pain, just tough. But I still danced happily and energetically (using a step meter one night revealed I had danced seven miles!), and one evening last year, in the gloaming, I actually decided to dance (Cornish fashion, which is kind of sideways, which is why I did it at dusk) down to my post box at the end of the track - some 80 yards. (Metres for the young, and meters for the friends over the ocean!) And I could do it just fine, no problem. But run it? No, I couldn't do it - well, I could have done in 20 yard increments, but I feared for a heart attack, a faint from lack of breath, and had leaden legs that disappointed me greatly and I would despondently stop. My 'dance-run' had sown a seed of hope in that I clearly wasn't for the knacker's yard yet, but I was going to look mighty funny dancing for a bus when I was a pensioner!

Time went on and I would ponder this fact, and try a few yards from time to time, but with the same result - bad news for an Alexander teacher. Yet still the dancing was fine - so I knew all was not lost. Then a student came recently and said he had begun 'Barefoot Running'. I was intrigued; as a teacher of this work I am curious about what students are doing, and what things are out there attracting people's attention. He explained a little, and after the lesson I looked up the website of John Woodward www.naturalrunning.co.uk  I knew of his name because I had supported Paul Collins on many of his ultra-marathons during my Alexander teacher-training on his course in the early 1980's. John had worked extensively with Paul later in Paul's life. And there it was, written on John's page; "Cultivate a silent footfall - "What you cannot hear from your feet will not hurt you" was one of Paul's favourite sayings." 

Well, I'm going to dare to say that I haven't ever been known for heavy-footedness - 'so light on my feet' was the usual comment - but I did my main running with Paul 30 (ish!) years ago when I was a mere 23 - youthful bounce still being right there, no matter how I was feeling. And Paul went on to refine and deepen his teaching of running long after I had qualified and lived many hours away from him. So, I had clearly let unhelpful thought processes and habits creep in. Yes, the teacher always goes on learning, and happily so, but what were these habits? I got on the case....

I watched the little video on John's site, read the words, and set off around the big, wooden floored living area in my home - barefooted, and with my awareness raring to go. And it was quite remarkable what happened; ease, lightness, bounce, and no breathlessness. The feeling of years ago was back!

I looked up the 'toed-feet-shoes' that are suggested for early barefoot running before actual bare feet, and in the meantime I bought some cheap beach shoes - the ones that are stretch elastic tops (pink in my case, just because...!) with soft 'rubber' soles on the bottom, usually sold for walking over the rocks on the beach. They give no restriction to the foot, but offer some protection to the sole. And off I went down my track - to the post box and back with the ease of a 10 year old! And with such enjoyment of the sensation of....well, of nothing. No breathlessness, no fatigue, no jarring, just the joy of running again. 

And for a few days that is what I did, including running inside when it was just too wet outside. And today? Well, almost Gump-like, I ran down the track, past my post box, down the bridleway, on past the houses, past the telegraph pole that I used to 'aim for and then die', past the farm, and on... all the way to the gate at the reservoir and beyond - some half a mile, 10 times further than I had run for years. And I wasn't even breathless. 

I tried a few steps the 'old way', and it was hopeless - horrible. The 'heel-to-toe- roll (like the bottom of a wheel) that so helps in walking seriously doesn't work for running - for me anyway, despite the Alexander 'up' being present. No, the way that works is the way of lightness, of 'silent footfall' from the front of the foot meeting the ground with the heel only just brushing it in the name of feedback. Of being present in each moment with each of my feet, with my miraculous ankles and willing legs, with my whole body, my head, my eyes, with the grateful sensation of my sole and the earth meeting lightly - a brief connection - and my body, always over my feet - not behind or in front - having spring to it, resilience, support, 'ping' - no thudding, no pushing, no pulling myself along - even though I could have sworn I wasn't before! At one point I smiled; I suddenly felt like I used to, and how I used to see Paul run, even after all these years - light, short, economical steps that allowed him to run races of 24 hours and even six days. I am sure he was pleased to see the discoveries being made! And I still found 'leading with the thumbs' as helpful as it ever was when Paul showed us its power in the grounds of Alexandra Palace in London in 1980. Thanks, Paul!

When I got home I tried the 'new' way in shoes for a few steps, just to see, and the difference was, to me, incredible; my feet just didn't know what to do without the freedom to do what they know best. Restricted by shoes, or trainers, they seemed to give up, I landed on my heels, and all sorts of other parts had to start struggling to move me along. I have long said that the plantar reflex in our soles is too important to block with thick soles, and our feet and ankles are well able to support us and we do not need to have boots that 'protect our ankles', or shoes that 'help us run', but I had still allowed 'poor use' to slip in round the back in my own running!

So, what's the message here? To me it's that being a teacher of the Alexander Technique isn't about 'knowing it all', or having 'got there' (where ever 'there' is!) It's about understanding the process. The Alexander Technique itself isn't about 'doing things right'. It isn't about me having qualified in 'rightness' all those years ago so that this was a grave error on my part, making me no good at 'teaching others where right' is. No, the technique assists me to become conscious of what it is I am doing in any moment I choose. And that is what I teach - consciousness in every day life. The technique has shown me over and over the power of empirical learning, of curiosity and experiment based around the knowledge of how the body best works.  Why did I 'forget' around running for so long? Well, I too am human; sometimes whilst looking at one spinning plate, another one falls off the pole behind me! But what learning in the 'mistakes'! What discoveries I continue to make about how I respond to the stimuli of life  - I believe it is these discoveries that help me to be a more effective teacher. You might have read one of my first blogs when I recounted how my aunt said that a good teacher is only ever one step ahead of their students, and is often one step behind - as I was in gaining so much from my 'barefoot running student'.

So I am yet again grateful to the extraordinary Alexander Technique which offers me the tool to stop, wake up, assess, check, look, find, discover, let go, play, experiment, learn, and change into ever more ease and freedom. This has nothing to do with 'being right' - which is incredibly fixing - but with agreeing to be 'wrong', and thus to let go, free up, and move into a place of being able to still do the things we used to do, and still can, no matter our age! The work offers the antidote to 'I can't' in its 'Let's see if that's really true'.