tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71503324992091516962024-03-19T11:55:35.165-07:00run with lifeBelle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-57054250502611292492014-05-30T06:41:00.001-07:002014-05-30T06:41:42.899-07:00100km of Bliss
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">How best do you begin to reminisce about an experience that
has filled you with feelings of happiness, greatfulness and accomplishment, well,
the best way is to head back out on the trails and let the memories run through
your mind with every step.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Running TNF100 in the Blue Mountains, Australia, was not in
my plan until two months before the event. Living in Switzerland I sporadically
planned a trip to see my family and friends in Australia, realizing that the
dates would coincide with the running of TNF100, a race that had tickled my
curiosity for a while. Having had glandular fever in january, I wasn’t very
ambitious about this running season, moreso living by the motto – if it‘s meant
to be it will happen… and with exactly that attitude I went on the waiting list
for a start at TNF100. Sure enough, only a week later, a spot had opened up,
and I grabbed the opportunity with both hands.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The day had arrived… I greeted it with both anticipation and
excitement. I gravitated straight towards the window in the hotel foyer,
running my eyes from sky to valley, checking out the conditions and taking in
the scene of where I would be running for the day. The sky was clear with stars
still twinkling in the distance, and the colours of the rising of the sun
becoming obvious out on the horizon. It was going to be a good day, I could
feel it!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My training and preparation for TNF100 was far from ideal
with the limited time I had to train specifically for the event. I just ran by
feel, aiming to run because of the fun and love of it, rather than because I
was training for an event. I also felt that this approach might help me cope
better with the expectation I might put on myself, allowing me to take things
step by step, leading up to the race and durning the race. Living in the Swiss
Alps I had the advantage of altitude and (forced) hill running, but because we
were just coming out of the winter season and it was hard to get any decent
long Km’s up, my longest run maxed at about 30km (I never run with a watch so its
a bit of a guess), which did leave me a little worried as to if I had
undercooked myself and I was taking the whole thing a bit too légère…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Standing at the startline the energy was tangible and
spirits high! I watched the start of the first 3 start groups, before I
gravitated towards the startline in wave 4. I checked in with my body, it felt
ready… my mind was calm and focused on the task ahead and before I knew it we
were off and the adventure had begun!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The beauty about ultra running is, that you always meet
really cool people and you’re running at a pace that allows you to have a chat
and share parts of the journey. Soon enough I was talking to other competitors
as we looped our way around the road for the first 4km of the run before
hitting the trails. I was in my element descending down the stairs into the
depths of the bush then gliding over some lush and fun single track trails. But
it wasnt long before the congestion slowed the flow of the moment and I was
slowed to a stop/walk pace as we ascended back up some stairs. In hindsight i
am incredibly grateful for that, as I could conserve energy to take on the next
90 or so Km’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Trail running is incredible, it‘s like a dance with nature
as you tip toe over its surface, jumping over stones, constantly changing pace
and always alert of your surroundings. Trails are always an adventure as they
are never the same, depending on weather and other factors. The trails in the
Blue Mountains were very playful on the day, nice and dry providing a grippy
surface, sometimes technical and steep, other times slick and fast but ever
changing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had passed checkpoint 1 & 2 making good ground,
feeling comfortable, happy and chirpy. As we hit the top of one of the climbs
the sound of a didgeridoo was obvious in the distance, and sure enough two
fellas were there cheering us on and leaving a great tune with us as we ran
past them. We then ran into an open field, cows grazing, horses watching us
carefully as we passed by and birds chirping their happy song. At this point I
was excited to hit checkpoint 3 soon, where my friend Shayne would be awaiting
me and I could fuel up on some chocolate milk.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Finding the right thing to fuel you for a 100km is not the
easiest thing. I was very aware of fuelling and hydrating properly in the days
before the race, allowing my system to be stocked with reserves, so on the day
all I needed to do was maintain. The North Face did an amazing job with
providing the participants with a variety of food and drink options at every
checkpoint. A banana, some lollies, a chocolate milk and a red bull were enough
to fuel me along for the day, keeping my energy levels consistent and
preventing me from ever hitting that dreaded wall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Checkpoint 3 was in sight, people were cheering from far
away and then I spotted Shaynes face and ran straight up to her with a huge
smile. I was keen to keep running, keep the flow going, so I quickly refilled
my water bottles and without much hesitation set of on the next leg of the
race.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The going got a bit tougher as the first set of gnarly
stairs approached after the 50km mark, but there was no other option other than
to take it, literally, step by step and share the whingeing and pain with other
participants on the many following sections of steps. I kept in mind that it
was all part of the adventure, and so far it had been a great one. We passed
some highly populated tourist areas, zigzaging through the masses of people,
feeding on their cheering and kind words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had done a few ultras before, but never a 100km continuous
run. I was very aware of the mental aspect of such a run. I often visualized
how it would be running TNF100, allowing various scenarios to go through my
mind always focusing on a positive mindset, having an exit plan should my mind
run off into a negative area. Luckily I didn’t have to tap into that exit plan,
as I was always in a good frame of mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The weather couldn’t have been anymore perfect, warm and
sunny keeping the spirits high!! Checkpoint 4 came and went, the sun was
descending slowly announcing the imminent arrival of the evening, and with
that, the last leg of the run. I had made a quick transition through checkpoint
5, realizing that it would be the last time I would see Shayne (who had done
the most amazing job at crewing me through the race) but also realizing that a
tough 20km was still awaiting me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Running downhill is something I love, letting yourself be
pulled by gravity and your legs run free on autopilot. However, approaching the
long downhill section after checkpoint 5<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>my legs were not loving it as much as they usually would. I struggled to
find a rhythm for the first few kms of the descent, but it didn’t take them
long to get back in the groove.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">The last leg was filled with anticiapation for the finishline,
digging deep and participants motivating one another along the way. It was like
I had changed a gear, something else propelling me forward driving me towards
that finishline. It wasn’t all smooth sailing, with the last km of the run
being 933 steps to the finishline. There was no other option than to embrace
the burn and keep on keeping on until the finishline came into focus.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Typical to my style I didn’t stack it, although there would
have been plenty of opportunity on some of the sections, until the last 50m of
the run, where <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>was so excited to be
running up the last few stairs that I actually forgot to lift my legs. But i
didn’t care, the finishline was a visible reality and I ran as hard as I could
until I crossed that line. My elation was undescirbable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Going into this adventure without expectation I didn’t have
a specific time goal, but i did want to finish under 16hours. I didn’t wear a
GPS watch, I wanted to run within myself and that appeared to work for me. I
crossed the finish line in 12hours 44minutes placing me 8th female and
finishing in the top 8% of finishers. This exceeded any expectation I could have
ever had!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I will forever hold that day, running TNF100, as a treasured
memory close to my heart, allowing it to add fuel to the fire of my passion for
running!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">„When you run on the earth and with the earth you can run
forever“ … and that is exactly how I felt that day!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-54111995877980549472014-04-13T07:22:00.000-07:002014-04-13T07:22:09.887-07:00Live Every MomentThere's something incredibly reviving about running as the seasons are in Transition. Running over vanishing snow as it washes itself of itself to reveal muddy trails and grassy fields ready to be brought back to life.<br />
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Under a pristine blue sky with the sun set high, warming up the ground, I wound my way up the backside of the mountain. At first I struggled to move Forward at a consistant pace in the slippery slush, but I soon realized that, if I adapted my stride to a quicker turnover, I could glide over the surface of the snow without too much Trouble.<br />
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In life it is easy to live one step ahead of the present Moment, focusing on what might be instead of what actually is. Running has taught me that I can't move move forward successfully if I'm already living in the next step, not focusing on the step that is the link to the next one.<br />
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As I was moving my way further and steeper up the back of the mountain, I could feel how my mind and Body were moving simultaniously in the same direction, enhancing all my senses. I felt the texture of the ground beneath my feet, smelt the earthy scent of spring that was drifting in the air and saw my surroundings with the wonderous eyes of a child.<br />
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Running fills me with a Feeling of freedom and an increased joy for life which is simply a reflection of how life should be lived and experienced every Moment.<br />
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I began descending the front of the mountain, first in heavy, slushy snow (ideal for shoe skiing down for a speedier descent) then moving on to muddy, slippery spring trails. My mind started running ahead of me, thinking about what needed to be done for the rest of the day. My mind and Body were no longer moving in the same rhythm, as my thoughts drifted from the present Moment, distracting me from where my feet were landing. I was rapidly pulled back into the present as I tripped over the root of a tree and ungracefully face planted in the mud. I picked myself up, chuckled at myself and marvelled at the irony of the lesson.<br />
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Live in the present Moment of your stride, be Aware of the next step, don't try and outrun yourself or your life... Live Every Moment.<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-45892193391552029952014-01-11T22:49:00.002-08:002014-01-11T22:49:20.215-08:00Called out in the dark<div style="text-align: center;">
<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>"I was called out in the dark<br /> By a choir of beautiful cheats"</strong></span></em></div>
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I couldn't sleep, didn't want to sleep, something was pulling me outside into the Imperfect snow, under a perfect star covered sky. I began to walk aimlessly, planlessly up my endless backyard, which is my playground.</div>
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My senses were on overdrive - I saw clearly without extra light, I could hear the chatter of the snow as it crushed beneath my feet, I could smell the purity of the crisp, cool mountain air, I could feel the breeze on my Skin and in my hair, and how it was carrying me up the mountain.</div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>"And how the heavens, they opened up<br /> Like arms of dazzling Gold"</strong></span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As I was drifting up the mountain, just as midnight hit, I glanced up at the sky and saw how the clouds had disappeared without a trace, revealing an army of majestic mountains illuminated by the glow of the rounding moon. I took a Moment to sit, far removed from any artificial light, allowing me to see the stars clear and Close. Hypnotized by the silence and Beauty, I saw something that resembled "arms of dazzling Gold" shoot by. Shooting stars, cementing the Magic of the Moment.</span></div>
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<strong>"</strong><em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><strong>Show me now, show me the arms aloft<br /> Every eye trained on a different star<br /> This magic<br /> This drunken Semaphore"</strong></span></em></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Mesmerized by the stars, I kept walking... cross-countrying over whatever was left of, what was once, lush powder snow. My eyes drifted back to the heavens where I realised no one star is the same, the perfect metaphor for us living beings - all unique in our own right, passing through this life like a Shooting star. LIVE YOUR WISH.</span></div>
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"This drunken Semaphore" is the ultimate drug, and its called LIFE.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;"><em><strong>"We are listening<br /> And we're not blind"</strong></em></span></div>
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I crested the top of a steep hill welcomed by the comforting faces of the mountains. I pulled my iPod out of my pocket, lost all my apprehensions and began to Dance for, what seemed to be, an eternity, infront of an audience of mountains with the stars serving as natural Disco light.</div>
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Listen to the whispers of nature, they will not lead you astray. Open your eyes to the Beauty of life, it is perfectly Imperfect.</div>
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<em><span style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif;">"<strong>This is your life<br /> This is your time"</strong></span></em></div>
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LIVE IT !!</div>
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-85359496767575833742013-12-07T07:42:00.000-08:002013-12-07T07:42:01.402-08:00The wise old manSpecial encounters happen more often than not when you run, but some encounters leave a beautiful stain on your soul, they ring words that will stay with you forever. An eternal Memory.<br />
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I was running with the playfullness of a little child over a carpet of glittering snow, smiling from ear to ear, laughing as I tumbled into a cushion of white fluff.<br />
I felt like I was effortlessly floating over the ground... I felt how the beautiful crisp air was filling my lungs and cleansing my mind. They were compiled moments of complete bliss.<br />
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I had been out for over an hour without seeing a person. There was nothing but me and the uniterrupted wisdom of nature, until, as I crested the last little climb, I could see the silhouette of an elderly man. Still grinning, the distance between us decreased with every step. From a few meters away he broke the peaceful silence I had been drifting in:<br />
"you really look like you love what you're doing", he said in a deep, Husky voice.<br />
My step paused and I came to a standstill infront of the king of mountains, the Eiger. I took a Moment to catch my breath, glanced around me, and replied:<br />
"I really do love what I'm doing!!"<br />
He began to tell me that he once too was a runner, setting off and exploring trails for hours, eating berries along the way, drinking only from streams and fountains, enjoying that feeling that can't even be put into words, the feeling that could only be understood if felt yourself. I knew that Feeling he was talking about.<br />
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I was captivated by the truth of his words, the wisdom in his eyes and the strength with which he stood in life. He continued telling me that he had to give up running 20 years ago, (at which point I asked how old he is... I couldn't believe he is 90!), due to illness.<br />
His dense beard was frozen with pearls of snow and I could see how his thoughts were wandering through his past. He told me he couldn't walk far anymore, but that freedom he felt when he was running he could still feel now;<br />
"things adapt, life adapts, if you let it".<br />
I believe it was him telling me his freedom had adapted into enjoying the things he can do.<br />
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The sun was getting behind an army of mountains and it was getting colder rapidly. Although I could have stayed and listened to the old man for days, I needed to get home.<br />
As we said our goodbyes he left me with words that will remain embeded in me forever;<br />
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"don't let anoyone take the freedom of what you love from you, because at some point life will."<br />
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That Moment will forever be a part of me, and so will that old man! I am grateful for unexpected Encounters!<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-51484065443841119112013-11-20T15:46:00.001-08:002013-11-20T15:46:14.519-08:00The balance of dualities<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I was convinced that I could ride my bike, just one more time, before winter set in. Reality proved to be different and my eyes awoke to a lush carpet of snow covering the ground. No big deal if you have a plan B, and that I did. I fixed my bike into my turbo trainer, perched outside my front door, where I watched the elegantly floating snowflakes settle on the white carpet. </span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I often hear that people struggle with turbo trainers or treadmills, because you are on the spot... Not moving forward, not seeing anything different, a stagnant state of being. I however, enjoy moving forward in the present moment without physical displacement. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Exercise always heightens my senses and liberates my mind to wonder freely, which in turn helps me to find that beautiful state of balance between my mind & body.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">As I was pedaling away, thinking about everything yet nothing, I noticed a difference in strength between the power I was exerting through each leg. An imbalance that began to irritate me and distract me from my state of bliss, because it wasn't optimal, it wasn't perfect. I began to shift in my saddle, attempting to find that perfect spot that might bring me into a perfect alignment, but this imbalance was telling me something else. That I have a weak side and a strong side. A dominant side and subordinate side.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">As it so often happens, one thought leads to another and I began to think about the dualities of life. Every aspect of life I thought of had an opposite counter part. One is generally deemed the positive side, and the other the negative side. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I began brain storming obvious dualities in life:</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ Day/night</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ Young/Old</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ peace/war</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ love/hate</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ hot/cold</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ salty/sweet</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ male/female</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ life/death</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ summer/winter</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ heaven/hell</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ mind/body </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ fire/water</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">~ high/low</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">And the list continues infinitely...</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I realized that, in order to move forward and evolve, the opposing forces need to be accepted and acknowledged, so that a state of balance between the two poles can be found. So I turned my focus back to the bike and how I could create equilibrium between my left and right side. Suddenly the Yin & Yang symbol flashed before my eyes and I recalled its definition: </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">"used to describe how seemingly opposite or contrary forces are interconnected and interdependent in the natural world; and, how they give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another".</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">What I needed to do was use the strength of my dominant side to give rise to my weaker, submissive side. The opposing forces need to interplay so a state of balance could be achieved.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">In life, we get too stuck in either the Yin or the Yang state and forget to see everything as a whole. We create positives and negatives, ironically turning positives into negatives because of the imbalance that is crated through giving one force too much power.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I realized that I was giving my strong leg too much power, in effect, allowing my already weaker leg to continue to get weaker. The answer was simple - working on my weakness with my strength could only make me stronger in the long run. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Ultimately balance is about acceptance and realizing that dualities form a whole. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Balance is the true definition of perfection.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLb3WKTH4mNSzT_2cUMLgnINJGzLT9-g8alXs8uZeDbr0Lhyhrc3FHpWUVgQ-NK5oJIGVfU1vc4tmzdMfxoXR4cXe5jbs1J6nUNlx3QJthi-ov4qqi5AiqFVzPyHs4JOu93c48-E3dmG0/s640/blogger-image--1809404019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLb3WKTH4mNSzT_2cUMLgnINJGzLT9-g8alXs8uZeDbr0Lhyhrc3FHpWUVgQ-NK5oJIGVfU1vc4tmzdMfxoXR4cXe5jbs1J6nUNlx3QJthi-ov4qqi5AiqFVzPyHs4JOu93c48-E3dmG0/s640/blogger-image--1809404019.jpg"></a></div><br></div>Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-60261684877442305022013-10-04T16:33:00.001-07:002013-10-04T16:33:04.766-07:00Dreams"Its the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting."<br />
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For close to a year I have dreamed, day in day out, of crossing the finish line at the Grand to Grand Ultra, a 270km self supported stage race along the rim of the Grand Canyon. So much time, energy, sacrifice and commitment went into this adventure, and nothing was going to stop me from crossing that finish line.<br />
Something did stop me from crossing that finish line, my body. And I was the one battling with my Ego to, either, continue and realize my dream or not continue and have my dream burst like a bubble, just like that.<br />
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The adventure began on a beautiful morning with the sun rising over the Grand Canyon creating a breathtaking backdrop. The sun rose in a majestic way, quickly warming up out cold bodies and gently reminding us of her dominance and strength. The energy in the air was tangible with over 100 runners ready to embark on this Grand adventure. Some were grinning as big as they could, others were quietly within themselves meditating on the task ahead, and then there were others dancing around to the music that was playing, obviously ready to run and have fun.<br />
I stepped up to the start line feeling calm and ready. My body felt great, my mind felt strong and my spirit was fueled by the idea of realizing the dream that had accompanied me for the past year. The first two days unfolded fantastically. I quickly learned that it wasn't only about how quickly you got to the finish line, but about what happened on the way to the finish line. Amazing bonds were formed with fellow runners as you covered many kilometers of ground together, helping one another through the hard patches, laughing about life and learning more about life by being, listening and talking.<br />
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I can't explain what it is about running, but it truly frees the spirit and makes you more open to life and other people. That is why I love to run with other people, especially in a race like the Grand 2 Grand, because most people seem to have this unspoken understanding between one another, and even though we are all strangers you feel this weird sense of familiarity and respect. We just get one another and are all equals. To me, running creates this beautiful reflection of what life should be like and how it should be absorbed. It is not always easy, on the contrary, it is often very challenging, but it shows that, when you love something it will bring out the best in you. Thats why we runners can relate, because when we are out there taking in the beautiful sights and absorbing life, we are the best version of ourselves, raw, real and free.<br />
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Day three was the day to overcome, a 53 mile day with a very high percentage of sand ( I mean VERY high), cactus dodging, scrambling and traversing sand dunes. I was lucky enough to embark on this day with one of the amazing people I met during the run, Rebecca. The day started out fantastically with lots of chit chatting and laughing which created the illusion that we happily floated the first 10km of the course. We crested the first climb and entered, what was to be, a long day in the sand. I began to feel this weird pain on my shin bone, a pain I didn't pay too much attention to initally, but as it began to intensify I began pondering over the cause of that pain. I decided that it must be because of all the sand in my shoes, creating tension in my tendons. I emptied my shoes certain that I would feel some relief with my next steps, but the pain was still there. I then decided that my ankles must be swelling causing the anklet that I was wearing to give me a pressure sore. I cut off the anklet, again convinced that my pain would magically disappear, yet again there was no difference. I gave myself no other choice than to persevere and ignore the pain, because this was not part of the dream, it wasn't in the plan.<br />
In great company, we ran all day long and into the night. Conversations were helping me distract from the discomfort, but when we hit the sand dunes I had this sense that my dream wasn't going to come to fruition.<br />
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Hypnotized by the pain (I was familiar with) I followed behind Rebecca and Gianfranco. It was a pain I knew, a pain I'd had 3 times before, the pain of a stress fracture. As we got to checkpoint 7 I got the Medic to check out my pain, quietly hoping he'd say I'm being soft and I should just continue running. But thats not exactly what he said, and without a definite diagnosis, his guess was the same as mine - a stress fracture. My mind went into overdrive, I could be tough and just keep on going, taking on the risk of injuring myself even more, but, as a reward, realizing my dream. Or I could be sensible and listen to the voice of my body that was loudly speaking, acutally shouting, at me.<br />
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I once had another dream, to escape the clutches of anorexia. I realized that dream, and promised myself that I would respect and listen to my body, that I would treat it with compassion. As I was sitting at the campfire, stewing over my decision, I looked down at my right forearm, where I have the word compassion tattoed. The purpose of that tattoo took on its full power in that moment, because it reminded me of the accountability I promised to have towards myself and others. I went to sleep for a few hours, knowing in my heart that my decision was made, but still living in the hope that by the morning the pain would disappear. It hadn't, and with a heavy heart I took my running shoes off, marking the end of the race for me.<br />
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I believed that taking off my running shoes would also mark the end of my dream, but life loves to prove us wrong. Over the past week I have had alot of time to think and feel into myself. My dream is now more alive than ever, because previously I only dreamed of the finish line, in some ways already bringing an end to the dream. All dreams have a beginning, and I never dreamed of the start line, now I realize that, without a start line there can be no finish line. I'm lucky, because my dream continues in a much richer way. It is now filled with incredible people, vital lessons, a new sense of self respect and gratitude that this journey continues until its my time to cross the finish line.<br />
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I am living my dream!<br />
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<br />Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-80301614908235609812013-09-10T02:09:00.001-07:002013-09-10T02:09:12.574-07:00The Comfort ZoneWhy are you running the Grand to Grand Ultra? This is the question I have been posed most frequently over the past few months. So many People find it hard to comprehend why a Person would put themselves through the ordeal of running 270(ish) self supported Kilometers through the Grand Canyon. So everytime a Person asks me the question why I'm embarking on this adventure, I always get stuck on words, its simply a Feeling I can't describe.<br />
<br />
After a month of injury and being plagued with a gnarly cold, I have had a lot of time to question myself on why I am doing this. Because my Training had to be comporomised due to the issues I was having, an avalanche of self-doubt came over me. The Training runs I did do were either uncomfortable because I had this nagging niggle above my ankle or I felt sluggish and powerless because of the cold I was fighting. For the first time though, I listened to the voice of my Body and decreased my running drastically to prevent myself from getting a serious injury. I usually embrace the attitude of "just one more run, and by tomorrow it will miraculously be better". That naive thinking has always run me into Trouble and resulted in stress fractures that have forced me to hit the wall and stop running for Extended periods of time. This time I decided to listen and test my willpower in a different way, to step out of my safety Zone or comfort Zone, which is enjoying the freedom of running everyday and the peace it gives me, and decrease my mileagae until my Body gave me the green light telling me it was ready to go again. <br />
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I was petrified of not running as much. I was unsure how I would handle myself, how I would occupy myself, where I would find a Substitute outlet. I was scared of having thoughts get stuck in my head, because when I run my thoughts are also in Motion, its as though I'm meditating in Motion. What if I was Standing still? Would my thoughts stand still as well and consume my mind like anorexia did? I came to find that my thoughts still moved, but I had to find a different way to let them move and observe them. I found a beautiful bench perched high above the village where I would hike to everyday to Meditate. At first I couldn't Focus... I had no Patience... I would get irritated by bugs and bees. As I persevered my mind began to calm down and my ears would trace the sounds of the things, first in my immediate surrounding, then Extended into the distance. My thoughts came and went, my Body relaxed. I visualized myself running through the Grand Canyon and a Feeling of joy and peace came upon me.<br />
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As I progressed back into running I felt comfortable with a slow build up again. I didn't have the Feeling that I had to make up what I had lost in physical Fitness during that time , because in reality I had gained so much more in a mental way. <br />
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I was so far outside of my comfort Zone CHOOSING not to run. Thats when I realized that the beautiful Thing about comfort is that we don't always have to move within it, but its always a place we can come back to and be rewarded with that welcoming Feeling like coming home!<br />
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I ran through the beautiful mountain hinterlands this morning and as I was (what it felt like) dancing down and gliding up the trails, I realized why I want to do this race. It's because running and the Feeling I get from it is simply an eye opener to how we should experience life regardless if we're running, Walking, sitting, living inside or outside of our comfort zones, on happy or on less happy days... <br />
<br />
So here is my answer to why I am running the G2G Ultra - because running is my metaphor for life, its my life Mantra "RunWithLife, RunWithEndurance"!<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-25370869703847757342013-08-09T02:07:00.003-07:002013-08-09T02:55:39.430-07:00Like the weatherThere are days where I crave nothing more than the solitude found in the mountains, encountering nothing but sweet trails, wild animals, the peaceful advice of the mountains and the occasional technical adventure. I also love the unpredictable nature of the weather in the mountains; peaceful blue skies can be surrounding you one moment and in the next, you can feel the weight of the storm clouds above you, ready to roar and rumble.<br />
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I awoke to a blue sky that framed the mountains, the golden sun smiling at me, luring me outside and inviting me on a spontaneous adventure. I quickly filled my backpack with water, food and a change of clothes and set foot on the trail that passes by front door. I didn't feel like thinking, so I followed the direction my subconscious directed my feet to go.<br />
I love that feeling of "going with the flow", allowing yourself to be surprised, learning to trust in your gut feeling and, in effect, switching off your mind giving you the liberty to absorb your surroundings, and quietly observe your thoughts.<br />
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The heat of the sun was radiating off the ground, magnifying its intensity, as I began ascending the rocky trail towards the Schilthorn. As I crested higher towards the summit I found snowfields in which sheep where laying, cooling themselves from the sting of the raging sun. I figured that it was quite a smart thing those sheep were doing, so I did the same, stripped off my shoes, letting my feet sink in to the freezing cold snow, before I lay down and glared up at the sky. It was so still, cloudless, but the energy of the air was changing... I could feel tension, a tug of war between the hot and cold air, I could smell that a storm was brewing in the distance. I slipped back in to my shoes and descended the snow field by shoes skiing, one of the funnest things ever, and typical to my style, I came to a halt by face planting into a muddy patch of snow. What can I say, it's a unique talent.<br />
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With the Schilthorn in sight, I knew that would be my destination. As I gained altitude I also gained in the density of the blanket of fog that began to engulf me. The fog seemed to absorb the steamy heat and turn it into a chilly sheath of air. The fog began to dance around, occasionally engulfing the beautiful scenery of Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau only to reveal it again in all its glory. The fog became a great distraction to the intensity of the uphill hike, and before I knew it I had sumited the Schilthorn, perched high above an ocean of fog.<br />
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Taking the cable car down was not an option, even though I began to see storm clouds rising up behind the mountains. I spontaneously decided to follow the direction of the first sign I saw (that lead back to Mürren). I began descending behind the Schilthorn in direction of the Rotstockhütte, traversing a beautiful ridge, climbing over boulders and crossing rapid rivers. The tension in the air was building, but I was too immersed in my immediate little world that I never looked up at the sky until I took a stack and landed on my butt, forcing me to glare up at the sky and the monsterous dark clouds that were etching eerily close.<br />
From growing up in the mountains, I knew that theses clouds were welcoming a major storm, which alerted me to pick up my pace and make my way home as quickly as possible.<br />
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I had a good 2 hours of descending ahead of me before I would be home, so my adventure became a race against the elements. I knew that there was a certain risk involved with getting caught in the storm, but the feeling of playing with nature and its elements was so much fun. Within only a few minutes, the mountains were hiding behind a thick curtain of dark cloud and the first signs of lightning were visible as they hit and light up the sky.<br />
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Thunder began to shake the ground and I was a good 30min away from home. Hikers began to seek shelter from the rain that was shooting from the sky like soft bullets, that turned into hard bullets of hail. I kept running. For some reason there is nothing quite as liberating as running in rain, being cleansed by the sky... it feels so reviving. Hikers were seeking shelter under tin roofs, but I felt it to be a safer option to just keep running. I'm not sure if that was a smart call or not, but I got home safe and thats the most important thing.<br />
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I got home and reflected on the run. I realized that we are not so different from the weather; we have many different weather fronts within us... sometimes we radiate with sunshine... sometimes we live in a world of fog, not seeing ahead clearly... sometimes we are the storm. No day is ever the same, so why should we always be the same!?<br />
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Keep on Keeping on!!<br />
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<br />Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-68664750195501920652013-07-07T00:48:00.002-07:002013-07-07T00:48:39.445-07:00The YinYang of parentsMy parents are the Yin and Yang in my life; two contrasting energies that compliment one another and create a Balance in my life.<br />
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Mum and Dad couldn't be any more different in many ways. Mum is extroverted, explosive, a worrier and not very sporty. Dad, on the other Hand, is introverted, mellow, a thinker and very sporty. There is one thing though, that does not contrast at all, but rather is projected in the exact same way - their unconditional love for me, the truest and purest kind of love anyone can receive.<br />
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There have been many trialling times with my relationship between mum and dad, individually and collectively. I was astranged from dad for an extended period of time, in a way that we didn't know how to approach one another anymore, creating a huge distance (physical and emotional) between us. I moved to Australia with mum some years after they divorced and it proved a struggle to maintain an intact relationship with my dad.<br />
Mum and I have had the typical Mother/Daughter arguments, one of which resulted in mum moving out of home for an extended period of time. I know... you'd think she would have kicked me out, but even when shes angry at me she simply wants the best for me.<br />
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There was a time, after mum and dad had split up, where they weren't the Yin and Yang in my life. They were still two contrasting Forces, but not in a harmonic kind of way, they were working against one another, not with one another, even when it came to me. <br />
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The Yin and Yang syombolizes continuality and flow, and I believe when that flow is disturbed in the relationship between the parents it disturbs the Balance within the child(ren). Mum and Dad have found that Balance in their relationship again, as parents.<br />
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Eventhough it sounds Cliché, those trialling times have made the bond between me and my parents stronger. My parents know (Close to) everything about my life, I value their opinion. I have learnt that they only have an opinion because they care and want the best for me, not because they want to criticise me. I have also learnt that their idea of 'best' isn't neccessarily the best for me, but they give me the freedom to grow and develope into my own kind of best, helping me find my path when I get lost. I have learnt that mum and dad do, sometimes, know me better than I know myself. That they can help me understand myself when I have no idea who I am. That they believe in my dreams. That they will catch me if I fall.<br />
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Eventhough mum and dad aren't together as a couple anymore, they are still very much together as my parents. Their energies flow in such contrasting ways that they work together as one - the ONE being my Parents, the Yin and Yang of security and happiness in my life.<br />
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Words don't have the capacity to express the amount of love and admiration I have for my parents. I am thankful to have Louise and Werner as my parents, they are the best parents to me.<br />
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Unconditional Love forever.<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-74575799528621433242013-06-08T13:16:00.001-07:002013-06-08T13:16:50.427-07:00Natures playground<span style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I love that the days when you struggle to find your running mojo, and find every excuse possible to delay your departure, end up being the days you have some of your best runs!!</span><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Today I struggled to get my run on. I knew i didn't need to run, but I wanted to run, but at the same time didn't feel like running. So I made a compromise with myself, that I would head out for a lazy trot, just long enough to catch some fresh air and sunshine.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">I sluggishly headed for an easy and familiar trail. My feet felt heavy and I struggled to get settled in my stride. I was hesitantly expecting to hit the legendary wall, but in the magical way the body and mind work, I began to find my groove. I felt how my pace began to increase, how my body began to stand taller and how I was infected with this familiar urge to play on the trails.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">The awesome thing about living in the mountains is, that there are always plenty of trails to choose from. Growing up here I had this confidence that I'd seen them all, or so I thought. I spotted this little trail that veered off into the woods with no signs marking the way. My adventurous mood kicked in and I began a steep uphill climb towards the mountains.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">As I crested the trail I felt an incredible feeling of serenity and fulfillment. I took a moment to sit on a rock and marvel at the vibrancy of nature that was framed by the Majestic mountain family - Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">The realization hit me how important it is to have flexibility and fun with training. That its okay to stop and take a moment to enjoy the moment; That is what keeps the fire of passion burning. As soon as we get too rigid and caught up in structure the passion turns into more of an addiction and/or obsession, and eventually loses its spark. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">The trail was a mystery to me, I had no idea where it would lead me to. It ended up leading me to the worlds funnest and most adventurous playground, where I got chased by little calves, danced over mud and snow, scrambled over rocks, crossed gushing rivers, avalanche fields and, of course, slipped on cow shit. </div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">It was amazing to traverse the snow fields that were the fuel for the gushing rivers I had crossed earlier. It was liberating to shoe ski down the snow fields into lush grassy fields. It was fun to engage in a chasing game with the cute calves. It was mesmerizing to see the lively flowers reveal their blossoms after a long winter. It was humbling to feel like a part of that world.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">Hours later I found a familiar trail that led me back home. I returned revived and energized, thankful that I had found my running mojo.</div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); "><br></div><div style="font-family: Noteworthy; font-size: 18px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 24px; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0976563); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(191, 107, 82, 0.496094); ">"Be like the melting snow -- Wash yourself of yourself"</div><div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlbYgrduUjjC_BXQ5LxtvLptKdxB7r2cL3owYVIQ3yAyVC4BOBGGkb_f81KqkYTb89uh8Lk5J7G8QfAACpp-yIdGZnRpR7q_L2zaA7QUlI6HHPkufodDpEBUfU8IqiOkV_5WbdAuO-kY/s640/blogger-image-1478038333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtlbYgrduUjjC_BXQ5LxtvLptKdxB7r2cL3owYVIQ3yAyVC4BOBGGkb_f81KqkYTb89uh8Lk5J7G8QfAACpp-yIdGZnRpR7q_L2zaA7QUlI6HHPkufodDpEBUfU8IqiOkV_5WbdAuO-kY/s640/blogger-image-1478038333.jpg"></a></div>Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-42839736240106260322013-05-27T10:50:00.001-07:002013-05-27T10:50:49.555-07:00Moments of happinessAs my feet danced over the pavement along the outscirts of the SempacherSee and feeling the warmth of the suns golden rays on my body, I felt a wave of happiness crash over me. Its that moment of complete fulfillment, when you are vividly present in your life, not reliving the past or pondering about the future. It's that moment when the world feels like its standing still, your senses awaken and your mind has an uninterrupted connection with your feelings. It's that moment when all tension melts away and is replaced with an energy that revitalizes your whole being. These moments can be temporary or they can last an extended period of time, but too often, we are caught up in our own little world and let those moments of happiness slip by.<br />
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Happiness doesn't have to be earned, happiness IS! Too many people are moving in a world where they allow their happiness to be dictated by external factors. Of course materialistic aquirements can create happiness, but its of the temporary kind, the kind of happiness that acts as a bandaid for internal dissatisfaction.<br />
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I often felt like I could mould my happiness through what I had, what I achieved and what I could be. Those moments of aquirements, achievement and aspirations did lend me happiness, but then that nagging voice would start questioning me if I even deserve to be happy.<br />
Thing is - we are all special and unique in our own way, and we all deserve to be happy. The greatest joy though, comes from within and loving the person you are at that moment in time. So many people SEE YOU (the person!!)... But we often dont see ourselves, instead only see the expectation we have of ourself and life.<br />
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It is a bit cliché to say, but the people who CHOOSE to have the least tend to project a satisfaction and completeness that is infectious and near impossible to oversee. They strip life down to its bare minimum and find the essence of self. They<br />
let go of the notion that happiness makes life easy, instead realize, that true happiness, makes life easier.<br />
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It's learning that people and materialistic rewards don't create happiness, but in actual fact, add to the happiness that already lingers within. It's learning to let go of the dependancy of those external factors to make us happy and, instead, get in touch with the intrinsic feeling of happiness.<br />
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I felt the cool breeze brush over my body as the crisp air filled my lungs.<br />
The moments of happiness began to compile creating a state of happiness. I realized that, like running, happiness is a feeling in motion, a feeling that, like each stride, never feels exactly the same. The truest happiness is the one that radiates from the inside out... The one that isn't expressed in words, instead with the beautiful facial expression which we call a smile! :')<br />
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“Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” <br />
― Rumi<br />
<br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EFYZPmYikdF0eqDQMSWBHcKPu8h9wAyqigrMcW5iCBjGT0Y-QUg1HCleJ9u2HBqF4IbQMG37gVQ6iVeC1XjdNQuB23nzcB0T2ubh3baRwRH7vo1xNnTVRu6_HzDgth77_zdXNma9cPw/s640/blogger-image--1997471732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-EFYZPmYikdF0eqDQMSWBHcKPu8h9wAyqigrMcW5iCBjGT0Y-QUg1HCleJ9u2HBqF4IbQMG37gVQ6iVeC1XjdNQuB23nzcB0T2ubh3baRwRH7vo1xNnTVRu6_HzDgth77_zdXNma9cPw/s640/blogger-image--1997471732.jpg" /></a></div>Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-16586484495620592682013-05-16T10:43:00.001-07:002013-05-16T10:43:54.890-07:00The TrailAs I looked down the technical, steep and narrow trail I was filled with fear. I could see it happening; how I would twist my ankle or tumble as I tripped on a protruding root or stone. My body stiffened and my heart rate increased as my fear and apprehension grew. After minutes of internal monologue my mate finally began the descent and I followed in his footsteps, or tried to.<br />
I was mesmerized by the elegance of his descent. He floated down the trail, dancing over rocks and roots as though they were his dancing partners and kicking up a solid speed. And then there was me, squirmishly tip toeing down the trail, ensuring that I wouldn't trip or hurt myself, ironically tensing up so much that, no matter how slow I went, I still ended up tripping and rolling my ankles. As we hit the bottom of one section, and Yannick had been waiting for me for quite some time, I asked him: "how do you run down the trail so fast and securely? I just don't get it." His answer was simple, "lose your FEAR, TRUST your feet and let it FLOW."<br />
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As I was lazing at home, licking my wounds from the multiple tumbles and missteps, I was triggered to think that a trail is not all that different to our path of life. If we approach that path with fear and apprehension we are per programming ourselves for a fall or "injury". Because, as soon as we allow fear to invade our lives it sends tension through our whole being; physical, emotional and mental tension. It causes an interruption to your natural flow. Sometimes fear is associated with caution. Trying to avoid a, potentially, bad outcome. This caution however, gives us the space to over think or over intellectualize things. Just like on the trail - if I spend too much time thinking about my next step I will very likely trip on my current step, because I forget to be in the moment and flow.<br />
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A trail presents you with the most unexpected yet, at times, obvious obstacles. Rocks and roots lay scattered along the ground, sometimes covered by slippery leaves only to surprise you as you step on them and quickly have to adapt your step. If we don't stay present it is hard to adapt your step, because you are already focusing on the next. Those steps aren't always elegant but you need to finish that step before you can take the next.<br />
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A trail teaches you to be in tune with your body, to open you mind - body connection. To perceive with the eye and adapt with the body. To feel into yourself and flow in motion. It reveals the meaning of the word Trust, which outshines the feeling of fear.<br />
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As the months have passed and my trail running has increased I have had more time to play on the trails. I have allowed myself to feel fear and let it go. I have allowed myself to Trust the ground over which my feet dance. I have allowed myself to move with my flow of motion and not against it. Trails give me so much pleasure now, because we have, and continue to, evolve together. It's not always a harmonic relationship and the trail still likes to test my skill, but I always remember that I was the one who chose to run that trail.<br />
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Run freely over your path of life. Lose your fear. Enjoy the beauty. Let yourself fall. Get back up. Run with life! <br/><br/><div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtneCW8ddYQzMSb3kI5aQA9d_kWsiu2kwfxDLEgXyFOFM_rgdqzNiF-X3lpKzW9SunmK5nLnT-Jh1lHQ2cBGJ5RZzfu2OD7-xG1Yygjz14ZqDgGUyj71a0XFtm-W_lurHFqPs6eLa9EEU/s640/blogger-image-348262427.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtneCW8ddYQzMSb3kI5aQA9d_kWsiu2kwfxDLEgXyFOFM_rgdqzNiF-X3lpKzW9SunmK5nLnT-Jh1lHQ2cBGJ5RZzfu2OD7-xG1Yygjz14ZqDgGUyj71a0XFtm-W_lurHFqPs6eLa9EEU/s640/blogger-image-348262427.jpg" /></a></div>Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-78808929399667594422013-05-09T01:48:00.002-07:002013-05-09T01:48:29.690-07:00The Yin and Yang of foodTo say that I am a good cook is an exaggeration. I can cook, and occasionally enjoy the process, but when I'm hungry I want to eat. It doesn't have to be ultra flavorsome or special, it simply needs to satisfy that nagging pain in my stomach, the emptiness that sends my mind all fuzzy.<br />
<br />
The beautiful thing about cooking and food is, that you can shar the pleasure and deliciousness with friends, as it was for me last night, when a wonderful friend, Linde, came over and cooked for me. Not only did she cook simple wholesome food, she opened my eyes to the glory of foood and the true meaning of -Fueling your Body-.<br />
<br />
My relationship with food has been a rather testing affair over the past 10 years. Living as an Anorexic greatly obscured my views on food. Iwas living in a world where food was a lethal enemy trying to sculpt me into an ugly being, distorting my physicality. In reality the image my mind created was distorted. Every meal I HAD to eat was met with great anxiety.<br />
I feared being around food that was being cooked because I was convinced it would leach into my skin and cause me to get fat.<br />
I feared eating the food because I could feel how its poison (fat) was flowing through every part of my body, latching itself on to me.<br />
I feared the aftermath of eating. The mental punishment; hours of calculations, weighing, exercise and panic as I witnessed my stomach swell to an unhumanly size, leaving me unable to move with shame.<br />
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It all started innocently, with the idea to try and lose a kilo or two so I could see if I could manipulate my body into the shape I desired. I made mild changes to my diet and exercise, ate a little less (without excluding food) and exercised a little more (I was already a very active kid). It didn't take long until I saw the first kilo drop. I liked the scales reassurance, but I didn't like that I didn't see a physical difference. There was only one way forward - lose more weight.<br />
<br />
I'm still not sure what image I was chasing. Maybe I wasn't chasing an image, rather seeking approval and validation. Maybe I wasn't seeking approval and validation from others, rather from myself. Maybe I wanted to reflect perfection and beauty. Maybe I was in search of myself, but got even more lost in that search.<br />
<br />
My eating became more controlled and compulsively calculated. Everyday would be the same routine - wakeup do 100 pushups, 100 crunches and 1000 skips (same would be repeated at night). I would continue with breakfast by cutting an apple into 40 pieces, eat one piece, have a minute break before I ate the next slice. It took me 1hr20mins to eat the damn thing. I would maky my way to school preparing for the teasing comments of other kids because of my fragile physique. 'What are they talking about', I would think, 'I'm just being concious about my health and appearance'. I would go home at lunch trying to figure out how I could eat as little as possible without stirring mum's attention. Then I had to punish myself for eating by exercising for hours until my mind was fuzzy, my vision hazy and my body drained of every drop of energy. Then I would face dinner, mostly alone... At 6pm on the dot, just me and a yoghurt, no one watching me other than Anorexia.<br />
<br />
Food was my enemy, Anorexia was my friend. She only wanted the best for me, or so I thought.<br />
<br />
I hit rockbottom at 31kg, which is when I got admitted to hospital and my fight to gain back my life began.<br />
In the process of gaining back the control for my life I met my great Love - RUNNING. Over time, I learnt that I needed fuel to reciprocate the love running was giving me. I slowly began to trust in the food I chose to eat, allowing my physique to gain shape, and my body to heal from the ordeal and my mind to find peace.<br />
As my running has grown stronger over the last year, or so, so has my freedom as I let go of the control over food. Ironically I started fuelling the tank with whatever I desired, even food that would have been Tabu not all that long ago.<br />
<br />
As Linde and I were sitting and enjoying the flavorsome feast of Tempeh, homemade Hommus and a devine Carrot Salad, Linde began to talk about food and its effects on the body. I was completely drawn into her words as she passionately spoke about the Yin and Yang of food. Yin (female) being food that is good for you, mild in flavor, yet wholesome and nourishing. Yang (male) being aggressive food, strong in flavor and often processed, the type of food that isn't so favorable for the engine.<br />
As I ate, I could feel the explosion of flavor in my mouth, how the goodness of what we were devouring was reviving me from the inside and how light and energized I felt afterward. I felt satisfied.<br />
<br />
Being healthy doesn't mean you need to be thin and lean, it doesn't mean you can't carry an extra few Kg's. Being healthy is conciousness of your WHOLE being. Respecting your body and striving to nurture it as best as you can.<br />
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DON'T MISUSE AND ABUSE YOUR BODY.<br />
FIND YOUR BALANCE.<br />
FUEL YOUR BODY AND SOUL.<br />
RADIATE FROM THE INSIDE OUT.<br />
You only have ONE body!!<br />
<br />
<em>Enjoy x</em>Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-43288790114363173092013-04-25T13:08:00.001-07:002013-04-25T13:08:28.394-07:00The Core Of BeingTo me there is nothing quite as exhilarating as heading outside and exploring new trails, feeling the thrill as I navigate over foreign terrain, feeling the adventure of getting lost but always finding the right trail again.<br />
... And so it was today. I explored trails around the "VierwaldstätterSee", literally running from lake to summit. I ran upstream over rocks and through water until I found the snow that was melting into a gushing river. I tangoed with the cows on the lush grassy fields. I (not so) gracefully stacked it down a rocky descent... (always the sign of a successful trail adventure).<br />
<br />
Running uphill is not my forté but I love it because it challenges me to improve, for the wonderful views I get rewarded with and for the thrill of the downhills. As I was, what felt like, gliding up this sweet single track trail, I couldn't help but notice how much stronger I felt. I felt like I wasn't batteling the incline, rather I was running with it. I noticed how my hips were propelling me forward and my upper body being far more upright than usual, allowing more oxygen to fill my lungs and letting my legs stride freely beneath me.<br />
Because I am fascinated with the mechanics of the body I started to analyze what had happened, and it was a simple answer - my physical core had grown stronger over the winter months where I, predominantly, totted uphill in soft, fluffy snow.<br />
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As so often, one thought provokes another and I began to think about the Core Of Being. The physical core is just one component of our being. I believe we need to exercise, not only, the visible core (physical) but also our internal cores like our mental, emotional and spiritual cores. They all channel into our main Core Of Being. As I am writing this I am struggling to find the words to describe what our Core Of Being is, but I can see it in the shape of a tree; a tree doesn't only have one root that makes it stand steady, confidently and strongly in its world, it has many roots that contribute to its Being. For the tree to withstand storm and drought, sunshine and rain, snow and the cold, the tree's roots need to be nourished, nurtured and strengthened.<br />
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We are that tree and we need to be aware of the strength and health of our roots because they create equilibrium in our lives and being.<br />
<br />
For the first time in a long time I was hoping that the summit was still far away. I began to realize that my strengthened (physical) core didn't necessarily mean that running was easier, because you can push yourself to another level, but I felt a new strength and stability which gave me confidence in myself.<br />
<br />
Strengthening your Core Of Being doesn't mean you will float effortlessly through life, but you will feel yourself stand stronger, you will find your Center Of Gravity within yourself.<br />
<br />
Being aware of your Core Of Being is learning to know yourself.<br />
Knowing yourself is learning to Love yourself.<br />
Loving yourself is, arguably, the most important root that leads to your Core Of Being, because thats where your love for life and people stems from.<br />
<br />
Life is never stagnant, it is always moving... sometimes we battle the uphills and other times we float up them effortlessly. Awareness of self is the key to Being!Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-88752395026576586032013-04-15T02:16:00.002-07:002013-04-15T02:16:46.520-07:00Spring in my stepWaking up to the cheerful chirping of the birds in the morning, smelling the sweet earthy scents of nature as it sheds its white winter coat and feeling the tickle of the sun on your sking - Welcome Spring!!<br />
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Yesterday was the first day you could actually describe as spring. The sun was extending its warm rays from its blue canvas, you could hear the trickle of the streams as the snow melted into them setting them into motion again, and by the end of the day people were wearing a rather red sunkissed makeup, men and women alike.<br />
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I was lucky enough to have scored an extended lunchbreak so, naturally, I laced up my running shoes and set foot on the semi snow/semi mud covered trails. It was warm enough to get out the 3/4 tights and tanktop, and after many months of wearing multiple layers it was reviving to feel the sun dance around on my bare skin. Running at this time of the year isn't easy as it is more like a slush-fest than anything else. But I love it because it adds to the adventure. The fact that the snow is soft and deep means that you get the occasional surprise of sinking, waist deep, into the snow feeling the little grains of ice biting at your legs (the downside of 3/4 tights).<br />
<br />
I decided to just run and see how far I could get in the 2hours I had available to play with. I ran up paths, ski slopes and trails that I had run over multiple times this winter in the most various conditions, at the most various times. These familiar paths caused me to daydream or, what I like to call, meditate in motion, where I let my mind wander in freedom without trying to dictated its direction.<br />
Images of running under a blanket of stars on a carpet of white powder snow, running along the base of the valley being chased by a farm dog, cresting the top of the mountain in the wee hours of the morning anticipating the sunrise that awoke the snow into a glittery coat and meeting amazing people along the way flashed before my eyes.<br />
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On my early morning runs there was a farm I ran past, and around 6am the farmer was in the barn milking his cows. I saw him a few times at the beginning of the season and we, tentatively, exchanged a word of good morning. As my passing became more regular the tentative good morning became a familiar word of good morning until the day he called me over and offered me a glass of fresh milk. At first I wanted to say a polite "no, but thankyou for the offer", but instead I accepted with a "yes please". It was the most lush and pure thing I had tasted in a long time, and it made me realize why I run - for these simple, unexpected moments of pleasure. Throughout the winter I would have drunk a good few liters of fresh milk, accompanied by a chat and a laugh with the generous farmer, watching as the mountains slowly emerge from the dark sky and hearing the cows chanting their own song in the barn.<br />
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I awoke out of my trance and glared up at the sky seeing a cluster of colorful specs floating around, paragliders enjoying spring from above. I took a moment and climbed onto a snow covered roof to enjoy the view and the beautiful setting mother nature had created. I then made my way home feeling how that run had given me more than it had taken from me. I felt the need to get out there again and absorb more of this amazing day (its free energy after all), so after work I laced up another pair of running shoes and began to trott up the mountain to my favorite spot that overlooks the village. I left my iPod behind, instead running to the rhythm of nature; the sound of the melting snow, the songs the birds were singing, the sound of the slush and mud beneath my shoes, the sound of PEACE.<br />
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Yesterday I felt like I was springing from winter into spring, taking with me all the wonderful memories that add color and structure to my picture of life.<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-82775415322315152322013-03-28T03:31:00.001-07:002013-03-28T03:31:18.231-07:00The magic mountainSaying that I had the privilege of growing up in a magical place is close to an UNDERstatement. Perched on the cliff top that looks out over the Valley of Lauterbrunnen and surrounded by a facade of majestic mountains, Mürren is truly a magical place. Ironically though, I had to leave the quaint little village for a few years to come back and appreciate it for what it is and what it gives.<br />
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Growing up in Mürren you take your liberty for granted. From an early age kids are allowed to roam the streets on their own, go skiing and sledding, running free like kids should be! The school is exclusively small and individual. I always say that we didn't learn the stereotypical stuff academically, but we learnt alot about nature, our surroundings and social behaviour. Eventhough it didn't seem great at the time, school is still school no matter what, I am so thankful that I went to school where I did, learning to love and respect nature, learning the importance of teamwork to get to the top of the mountain, learning the importance of accepting physical and mental challenges in life and overcoming them.<br />
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Mürren harbors an energy that is hard to describe but incredible to feel. Some people find Mürren liberating some people find it imprisoning. My favorite aspect about Mürren is that it looks straight over to the Eiger, the father of the mountain chain that frames the Valley. How the Eiger gained its name is still not known, but it is commonly associated with the German word "Eigen" which translates to "own". And its Own mountain it is, with the famous Eigernorthface ascent that has challenged many climbers, and a tunnel that runs through the mountain with two viewing-windows that spoil you with breathtaking views.<br />
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In my memories of growing up the Eiger is omnipresent. Every morning I awoke to the sight of the Eiger... Sometimes it was just its silhouette I saw, sometimes it was temperamental with gnarly looking clouds hanging around its summit, sometimes it was pure and simple standing out framed by the clear blue sky, and sometimes it stayed hidden behind a curtain of clouds. I always attempted to sketch the Eiger, trying to get a perfect picture of it, but nothing can ever do its original beauty justice.<br />
Since I've been back I can barely take my eyes off the mountain, always looking to it for strength and comfort, looking to it for its beauty and character. Looking to the Eiger gives me a sense of Home and belonging. There have been many occasions, this winter, where I have been out running and hit the famous wall, feeling like I can't take another step, wanting to sit down on the spot and not move any further. Somehow, in those situations, my eyes naturally wander in the direction of the Eiger and as soon as my eyes see the majestic King I am filled with energy and I always find my second wind.<br />
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Nature has many faces and we can all find that source of energy in our own way; for some it might be the ocean, for others the forest or simply a spot in the middle of nowhere. You just need to open your eyes and see it or close your eyes and feel it. The Eiger is my unconditional energy source, a wonderful love affair.<br />
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Go out and find yours!!<br />
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Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-29474547974391314622013-03-20T04:27:00.002-07:002013-03-20T04:27:22.618-07:00The DraftSunday was the day I awoke my roadbike out of it's wintersleep, hanging up the skis instead. The weather forecast wasn't looking all that promising with strong winds and snow forecast. I had it set in my mind that I was going to ride my bike on my day off regardless of Snow, Wind or Sunshine.<br />
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As I was descending through the valley I was excited like a little kid at christmas. Feeling the chill of the wind rush past me, letting my legs settle into a comfortable tap, noticing how much easier the bike let itself ride now that it had a clean chain and pumped tires (I should do that more often!!). As I emerged out of the valley I rode towards the Thunersee, a perfect 60km loop from Interlaken that extends from the lake front, through the city of Thun, winding up through cave tunnels rewarding you with a gorgeous view of the lake. The weather was better than I expected... until I hit the lake. Gusty winds started to make their presence noticeable, creating little waves that danced around on the lake, raising fallen leaves back into the air, making me pedal hard as it hit me head on. In that moment I couldn't resist the thought of how nice it would be to have the advantage of someones draft. Being pulled along in their windtunnel, thus, making it easier for me.<br />
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That thought initiated me to think that a draft, in cycling, is not all that different from the draft we sometimes seek in life. There comes a time when we all crave to be in someones windshadow, pulling us along, making it easier on us, leaving the control and decisions of pace and direction in their hands. Thats how it was when I had Anorexia. I was waiting for that person to take me by the hand and pull me along, pull me out of the hole I had fallen in to, showing me the way I had to go, allowing me to let go of all thoughts and responsibilities.<br />
The problem with Anorexia was that I wasn't moving forward at all, if anything I was moving backwards. So if I wasn't moving forward how could I even hope to get sucked into a draft? I was stuck... Until the day I got admitted to hospital and there were people, not just one, but many, who took me by the hand, helped me get back on the bike and helped me get sucked into a draft.<br />
I was determined to stay in that draft, all the way, until I was better. It seemed so easy because all I had to do was what I was told to do. It felt safe, like no one or nothing could touch me there. Caught in the draft I began to gain more strength, strength to fight. But there were many times where I fell off the back, still moving, but moving alone, batelling to find that draft again.<br />
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On that sunday I had no advantage of a draft that I could get help from, but at unexpected times the wind would change and I felt a little push from behind, making it, even if just for a moment, feel effortless, giving me that little boost I needed. I began to enjoy challenging the headwind, not letting it get the better of me, standing my ground, seeing it as a challenge that would reward me with a feeling of accomplishment at the end. Anorexia, just like the headwind, is a challenge. She challenges you head on, trying to lure you into her draft, a backwards draft. I have learnt though, that her draft is weak compared to other drafts. The positive always outweighs the negative if you allow it to. A healthy draft will lead you toward victory, a negative draft will lead you to defeat.<br />
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A draft can lead you towards your destination, towards the finish line, but you always have to cross the line on your own. At some point you have to trust that you can keep moving forward in your own strength, even being strong enough to let someone else rest in your draft, leading their way, letting them trust in you.<br />
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As I wound my way back up the valley I was lucky to have the wind in my back, gently pushing me up the steady incline... It was a different kind of draft.<br />
Drafts come and go, sometimes you get sucked into them, sometimes you fall off the back and sometimes YOU are the draft. Just keep Moving!<br />
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"Life is like riding a bicycle. In order to keep your balance you must keep moving forward".<br />
Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-84487552432942619702013-03-07T04:37:00.000-08:002013-03-07T04:37:02.492-08:00Random acts of KindnessDo you know the feeling you get when you do something nice for another person, something unexpected, sometimes simple sometimes extravagant? It's an amazing feeling not just for the person you are doing something unexpectedly nice for, but also for yourself. It creates a wave of joy which, often, has a ripple effect, inspiring people to spread the feeling of unexpected happiness.<br />
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In todays society it is all too easy to get caught up in your own little world, letting stress levels build up, creating pressure that, all too often, causes the corners of our mouth to be pulled down by gravity instead of smile. Sometimes we forget to open our eyes and look around, acknowledge the world we live in, acknowledge the people who live in this world. The ironic thing is, that it can be so much easier and simpler to make someone smile, to make ourselves smile, than we think. I am learning that true happiness comes from the little things, because they begin to compile, like little puzzle pieces, creating a patchwork of happiness. Moments of happiness compiled. In saying that, Happiness can come from big things too, like a house, money, success, but they tend to be temporary gratifications, unless we make them a piece of the puzzle and they fit in to the picture of happiness.<br />
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An amazing friend from the US came to visit me this winter - Jamie-Lynne. She is truly one of a kind with an incredibly big heart, a friendship I know will last forever. Before I went to visit her in the states we did a countdown, which consisted of us doing as many push-ups, squats and crunches as days were remaining until I got there (so 30days would mean 3x30 of each of the exercises). Jamie loved the idea, and never whinged at all (she sais with a tone of sarcasm in her voice), but at least the number kept decreasing as opposed to increasing. When the time arrived for the next countdown we decided to do something more selfless. Something that went beyond gratifying our own happiness. With that in mind I came up with the spontanious idea of doing a RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS everyday. It didn't have to be a certain shape or form, the only criteria was that it came from the heart. We began our countdown with a wave of enthusiasm, texting one another everyday about what RAK we had done today and the affect it had on the receiving person. Through our exchanges we got double gratification, first we were gratified by doing the RAK then we doubled up on that emotion by telling one another and encouraging one another.<br />
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In the beginning it was, speaking for myself, a challenge to come up with the right kind of ideas, always feeling a little pressure like what I was doing was maybe not quite enough. Until the moment I realized that by feeling that way, I was missing the point. I began to learn that the nicest Acts of Kindness are on a personal level as opposed to a materialistic level. Sitting down for coffee and acknowledging the person sitting beside you, engaging in conversation and then, if conversation continues, Randomly shout them another coffee. It can be an honest compliment, a genuine smile or helping someone carry their groceries to the car.<br />
The story that captures the core of this challenge the most is the day Jamie went to Starbucks (drive through) to get a coffee and told the lady at the counter that she would like to pay for the order of the person behind her. As Jamie went back that afternoon to get another coffee (Coffee is awesome!!) the lady at the counter told her that she had created a ripple effect and that the next 5, or so, cars behind her paid for the order of the person behind them. I mean seriously, aren't you just smiling hearing that? I love it!!<br />
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As the time continued to pass I began realizing that Random Acts of Kindness were becoming like second nature to me. I began thinking less about what I could do today (as often I woke up in the morning pre-planning what I could do today), and rather went with the flow and took the opportunites when they presented themselves. I began growing more aware of the life around me, paying more attention to the people passing me by, be more aware of the expression on my face. If I could randomly give an elderly person a lift home from the supermarket, or buy the homeless guy some food for his loyal animals, or send someone a random text thanking them for who they are, I would be aware of it and do it.<br />
The reward of a true and genuine smile is incredible, as the reciprocating persons eyes light up with surprise. It is a truly addictive feeling, that warm fuzzy feeling of contentedness.<br />
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My picture of happiness is becoming more and more colorful day by day, its an artwork that is priceless. As Mum always says to me "its the little things that count", those words ring a sound of truth.<br />
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Hey, thakyou for you. Thankyou for reading. SMILE<br />
<br />
xox Belle<br />
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<br />Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-58542174445773222792013-02-21T04:59:00.000-08:002013-02-21T04:59:39.311-08:00The power of the moment
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Under a blanket of stars with the moonshine lighting
the way, I embarked on yet another running adventure. It is indescribably beautiful,
energizing and comforting being out in the mountains at night, alone, with the
sound of the snow crunching beneath your feet with every step you take, the
crisp air filling your lungs as you exchange breaths with nature.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I am lucky to live in a place where it is completely
safe to head out on a run at any time of the day, or night, without having to
worry about my safety. Feeling solitude without fear is an incredibly
liberating feeling and continues to fill me with joy. That night I decided to
leave my trusty headlamp, that usually lights up the dark path for me, at home
and trust in the ground, my footing and the strength of the moonlight. As was
ascending I began to realize the false sense of security the light of my
headlamp gives me. I felt uneasy, because I could only see what was directly in
front of my feet… I couldn’t see into the distance… I couldn’t see ahead like I
usually could. There was literally nothing other than myself and nature. As I
began to hit a comfortable pace I began to relax, my eyes began to adapt to the
dark and my mind began to adapt to the idea that I couldn’t see too far ahead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The mountains were towering around me like peaceful
warriors and my favorite mountain, the Eiger, looked like the King of them all
with a fine layer of clouds gracefully draping its silhouette. The stars were tangibly
close and my mind was evoked to think. There was more to this run than simply
getting a training run done… it was telling me something that I could translate
to my life. Looking too far ahead isn’t such a great thing. On that run I
learnt that you need to trust in that moment, because that moment leads to your
next moments. By looking too far ahead I could miss something that’s right in
front of me - an uneven surface, a stone, an opportunity. You have no control
over the present moment if you’re living in the future, if you’re constantly thinking
one step ahead. On runs I often think ahead, anticipating the end, especially
on uphill runs because they tend to burn the most. That night was different
though. My mind and body were in complete harmony, my mind clear letting my
body do its own thing, not dictating a pace or stride, just letting it flow. I
felt like I was effortlessly floating up the mountain. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">As I summated I was rewarded with a spectacular view
of the village and an extremely content feeling, which caused me to break out
into a little dance on the freshly groomed ski slopes (I’m glad no one was
there to witness that!). One of the great things about running uphill is that
you get the thrill of the downhill as a contrast. I love letting my body roll
on the downhills, cranky up the pace, jumping off rocks, face planting into
powder snow, which is what I did that night. I was still forced to not look
ahead, adapting my stride spontaneously to the obstacles ahead, anticipating
the next step without pre planning it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-US" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">That night I learnt that missing a step is like
missing a moment in life. Not every step is easy, but every step is a part of
the bigger picture. We can’t control what happens in the future, we can merely
influence it… Step by Step.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-68092956228776911262013-01-12T02:23:00.002-08:002013-01-12T02:23:55.940-08:00The flow of the treadmillRecently I've been logging alot of km's on the treadmill, an idea I was loyally opposed to not all that long ago. I firmly believed that treadmill runs were not real runs, that they didn't reflect the true essence of running, which is freedom, nature and feeling the ground beneath your feet. I would even refuse to run on the treadmill on rainy days, would even face a snowstorm just to get my training done and avoid the 'fake' running on the treadmill. I have always found running to be a way of getting in tune with nature, yourself and others, things that you can't do on a treadmill, well at least the first and the latter things. You can't get in touch with nature on a treadmill because, obviously, you are inside and your feet connect with an electronic mat and not natures ground. A major attraction for running outdoors is that you continually meet people who share the same passion as you and, through that, you build a little community and enjoy running in groups, or what we could call running tribes, through cities, over trails, through mud. Running unlocks your expression and often allows you to express yourself in a much more fluid and comprehensive way. Thats also how running allows you to get in tune with the true essence of yourself that, I have learnt, can be achieved on a treadmill as well as outside.<br />
<br />
As a total contradiction to my anti-treadmill attitude, I have come up with the idea to run 70km on a treadmill to mark the 70th Inferno Ski Race. I will be accompanied by Swiss Paralympic Wheelchair athlet Heinz Frei, with the objective being to get people involved by, either, running beside me on a second treadmill or riding beside Heinz on an Ergo Bike. We will also be aiming to raise funds for the Swiss Paraplegic Center in Nottwil.<br />
<br />
With 70km of running on a treadmill in sight, I have recently spent numerous hours clocking km's on that shiny black band that passes beneath my feet. In the initial days of running on the treadmill it felt incredibly foreign. I didn't like the idea that, eventhough I was in control of the speed, the black band was dictating my pace and flow and that my running began to be a race against the clock, persuing that time I had set myself, hypnotised by the clock.<br />
As I got off the treadmill one night, depleted and feeling worse than when I began (when generally I feel better after a run), I had a realization that as long as I fight the treadmill physically and mentally, it would fight back at me. I needed to start looking at it in a positive light, for the benefits and different kind of challenge it could bring me.<br />
That night I watched a youtube clip about a guy who does Free Solo Highlining (look it up if you don't know what it is) and I realized how vital the mind/body connection is, that it is unblocked and has a free flow. That only if those connection channels are open, you can truly trust in yourself. It triggered me to think that, when I was on the treadmill, my mind was in a different flow to that of my body and my body was in a different flow to the treadmill. To be able to complete 70km on that treadmill that flow needs to become fluid and uninterrupted, I needed to stop controling and let it flow. Towards the end of his Free Solo Highline attempts (note, this guy is not attached to anything other than his feets connection to the slackline, suspended high above ground), Mich closes his eyes for a second or so which, to me, acts as a symbol of surrender to trust.<br />
<br />
I wanted to find a way to translate that trust to the treadmill, so every so often, for a few seconds, I would close my eyes and let myself flow. It made me feel how off balance I was with my eyes closed, yet how much more fluid and free I felt. I began trusting in my stride without the fear of being spat off the back of the treadmill or drifting off to the side causing me to trip. I began to notice imbalances in my body, things I previously didn't notice outdoors because I was too distracted by my surroundings. I noticed that I could still talk to the other people in the gym and make connection, just on a different turf. I began to feel fluid. I began to feel enjoyment. I began to look forward to my daily treadmill dates (which I coninue to do).<br />
<br />
My fear was that a treadmill was reflective of life, that you are stuck in one spot moving, yet not moving forward. That notion is an illusion. It's all about your attitude and mental approach. The treadmill has taught me to be more aware of my mind and body. It has forced me to pay attention. In the bigger picture it is helping me move forward in more ways than one and grow, not only, as a runner but also as a person.<br />
<br />
I am excited to take on my 70km treadmill challenge now that we have become friends, and I have found a different kind of freedom running on its shiny black band.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-88192599731101741572012-12-31T13:29:00.001-08:002012-12-31T13:29:59.628-08:00The last runThe mountains showed themselves from their best side today. They were dusted with perfect white snow, kissed by the suns rays giving them a healthy glow, framed by a clear blue sky... a perfect setting for a run.<br />
<br />
When I woke up and looked out the window I knew I had to run today and so the mad time management calculations started in my head. It was now too late to go before work... in my lunch break I was going to be pressed for time... and the evening was reserved to spend with the family. I felt my heartrate increase at my desperate attempts to find a time to run. I got edgy. I reached for the good old notepad and began to write out a time plan, breaking down the time I'd need to get home, changed, get back, shower, eat and get back to work. I was left with a bit over 30min running time, not good enough in my world (I know, 30min is better than nothing, but I can't bring myself to accept it). I'm sure other endurance athletes will understand that anything sub-hour is just not justifyable. What to do? I decided to assess the flow of business that morning and workout the potential of how busy it could get (which realistically you never can) in the afternoon. After assessing the situation I decided it would be quiet enough for me to, shyly, ask my co-workers if I could take an extended lunchbreak so I could run. Of course they, without hesitating, exclaimed a loud YES! Hallelujah, my day was saved.<br />
From that moment on my legs were in running mode and my mind was counting down to the running hour.<br />
<br />
The day had developed into a warm winters day, which made running conditions ideal, creating the perfect surface to run on; grippy yet not slushy snow. Two layers of clothes sufficed and a few minutes after leaving work I emerged out of the house in my running gear (it pays to live accross the road from work).<br />
I decided on my usual 10km run, which spoils you with the glorious view of the Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau skyline the entire way. People were throwing snowballs (not at me), kids were playing in the snow, people were smiling. This was going to be a good run, I could feel it in the air, my last run for 2012.<br />
<br />
2012 has been an incredible year of running for me, and as my feet hit the ground memories started whizzing through my brain like electric currents. My favorite (running) memories are running with my best friend Shayne. I can always call on her for an adventure, we hit the same stride, we talk and laugh, we philosophise about life, we talk about boys, we have fun. There have been mornings we'd meet at 4:30am just to fit in a 20km run before work. Every run is then ended with a PRC (post run coffee), our little tradition. That's a big part of why we get up so early, just so we don't miss out on our well earned PRC...<br />
Back in Australia, every sunday was reserved for sunday long runs with an wonderful running group made up of diverse, interesting, motivating and amazing people, lead by the running guru, Chief Al (as we call him). We would run anywhere between 20-30km along Newcastles gorgeous coastline, chatting, laughing and challenging one another. As a group we trained for the Newcastle Hill to Harbor, where I had my first half marathon victory.<br />
<br />
When I moved back to switzerland, the beginning of April, my running became very solitary, which triggered me to channel all my focus into training for a 78km Ultra. Training solo was a great time for soul searching, learning discipline and self motivation, and getting to know my bodys limits and abilities. For a long time I have flirted with the idea of an ultra marathon, and once I crossed that startline I didn't stop until my feet crossed the finishline, 8hrs20min later as 11th female. It was the run of my life.<br />
<br />
The Jungfrau Marathon soon followed and my ambitions were set high, however, that race turned out to be the trough of my running season. I learnt a valuable lesson that day, that sometimes you are missing a piece to the puzzle, the piece to a successful race. That day I was certainly missing the fitting piece to the race I had imagined, but I filled it with another piece, finishing and creating a different outcome to the original image I had painted in my mind.<br />
<br />
New York called as the final race for the year and we all know the outcome of that race. Some things are out of our control, such as a cancelled race, but that doesn't mean there can't be another kind of race. On a truly beautiful day, which was meant to be race day, a group of wheelchair athletes and I set out to do our own Marathon through NY, although mine wouldn't be running but on a bike instead. It sure wasn't the exact race any of us had prepared for, yet cruising through the streets of New York, seeing fellow runners, watching a city being revived will forever be embeded in our memories and a truly unique take on the New York Marathon.<br />
<br />
As I was reminiscing about the past year I rapidly got pulled back into the present when I found myself running on the ski piste instead of the trail, dodging skiiers left right and center. Lucky I didn't run off the cliff I say ;)<br />
<br />
I walked back in the door with 15mins to get showered and changed, but I felt revived and alive. Running has given me a new breath of life. The beauty of the sport is no matter where you are you can run. No matter where you run you will meet a fellow runner who shares your passion. No matter what your level of fitness is, it's always challenging. It fuels the soul.<br />
<br />
My last run in 2012 has evoked wonderful memories not only of running, but also of many other aspects in my life. Had I not have had that extra time to run today I would have, most likely, missed out on that time to reflect and appreciate a blessed year.<br />
<br />
... with that said, bring on 2013! Happy Running Year, I mean New Year.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-46904606408805653122012-12-22T03:28:00.001-08:002012-12-22T03:28:19.199-08:00ChanceSince I was a little girl I have had a love affair with perfume. Some of my earliest memories are of me walking into the bathroom after mum or dad had spritzed on a scent. I remember feeling incredible comfort at the train of scent they left behind. Dad's aftershaves were always dominant, masculine and herby; Mum's perfumes were feminine, gentle and sweet.<br />
<br />
It's amazing how we can associate a scent with a particular person, how it can evoke memories and feelings, and exactly that happened to me the other morning. As I was rushing to get out the door, I randomly grabbed one of my perfumes and spritzed some on. The little dust pearls instantly woke my sense of smell, which lead to awakening my memories letting them flood into my conciousness, inviting me to reminisce.<br />
<br />
One summers day, while I was still in hospital, Mum came to visit me and brought me a little present - a sample perfume of CHANCE by Chanel. Her reasoning for it was because she felt I needed another chance, more importantly I needed to give myself another chance. She also thought it might make me feel better about myself, that it would make me smell life again. I tentatively sprayed some on, tentatively because I have a very particular taste when it comes to perfume, tentatively because I didn't like it when I didn't have the control of choice. The moment I got my first whiff of that chance I fell in love, I knew that was the scent for me.<br />
<br />
Sporting my new fragrance, I walked down the hospital ward headed in the direction of Dr. Prinz's office. I so vividly remember walking past the rooms of the other sick children, and it struck me that we all need a chance (or more) sometimes, another chance at starting something, another chance at love, another chance at LIFE. It was then I realized that my chance was right infront of me, that I just needed to take hold of it and run with it. The kids I shared time and space with on that ward of the Insel Spital didn't have the same chance as me. They're conditions, unlike mine, weren't self-inflicted; their chance rested, mainly, in the hope and trust of the doctors, whereas my chance rested, predominantly, in my actions. I could actively make myself better, I just needed to see it, take it and do it... and eat.<br />
<br />
We all get given chances in life if sick or healthy, young or old, poor or rich, skinny or large... but in the end it's up to us what we do with that chance. It may sound silly, but everytime I put on chance, I am reminded of the chances I have been given and continue to be given. It feels like a new start and reminds me to appreciate life, to open my eyes and recognize the chances I have.<br />
<br />
<em>Dear girl,</em><br />
<em>Anorexia is not a chance; Anorexia takes away and hides your chances. You are her chance at gaining power, don't let her do that. Never stop seeing and believing in the chances you have, the chance to get better. I am so glad I took that chance to get better and gain my life back eventhough; it still, isn't always easy. Believe in yourself, believe in the chance of life and don't believe in Anorexia.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Dear Mum, Dad, Family and Friends,</em><br />
<em>Never stop believing in the chance of hope; because where there is hope, there is a chance. I know, from the experience of my family, that anorexia can be incomprehensible, frustrating, frightening and seeming hopeless. My family never gave up on me, eventhough it may have been the easy thing to do at times. Never stop giving your daughter, son, wife or friend another chance, as sometimes it's exactly that one last chance they need.</em><br />
<em></em><br />
<em>Dear self,</em><br />
<em>Always remember the chances you have been given and the chance you have within your own choice. Never forget that you chose to get better and with that choice come responsibility and commitment, not only to yourself, but also to those who gave you chances and showed you trust. Keep that knowledge close to your heart, because you are one of the lucky ones who had the option of choosing between life and death.</em><br />
<br />
I'm so thankful to my mum for giving me chance on that warm summers day. I'm thankful that it awoke me to the subtle, sweet, playful, comforting and dramatic scents that life brings with. I wear my chance.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-20070296726972155412012-12-15T09:40:00.003-08:002012-12-15T09:40:28.944-08:00VamporexiaSo recently, well since I've moved back to switzerland, I have been totally engulfed in the world of vampires, addicted to watching Vampire Diaries and True blood. For that I will blame Jenny, my step sister, who introduced me to the (fantasy) world of those blood suckers. It is something I tried to avoid for a long time because I thought it was stupid, a waste of time and served no purpose. Call me a hypocrite, I'll take it, but have absolutely fallen in love with the shows. I feel slightly better liking them now that I've got my best friend Shayne hooked. She is probably the most level headed, kind hearted, determined and funniest person I know (that she is also a great runner goes unspoken). She doesn't put up with crap and I knew if she didn't like Vampire Diaries then I was going to have a hard time justifying my love for vampires. To my great luck however, she loved it, and I think she devoured the first two seasons faster than I did (and that was fast too). In short, thats my justification for watching the shows.<br />
<br />
As Jenny and I were snuggled up on the couch last night, sucking in the lastest episode of Vampire Diaries, I had a sudden epiphany; Anorexia and Vampires aren't all that different and if I could give Anorexia a face she would look sweet and angelic, to lure you in, but she would have her vampire like fangs hidden so she could latch onto you at the right time. Okay, admittedly Anorexia doesn't drain you of blood, but once she pierces her fangs into you, she slowly drains the life out of you.<br />
<br />
Anorexia finds you at a vulnerable time, pretends to be your friend, gains your trust, galmours you. Just like vampires can glamour you into believing every word they say, creating a different reality. She forces you to gradually cut the ties to anything that gives you hold in the REAL world, so she has more pull on you in her IMAGINARY world.<br />
<br />
The more a vampire feeds on human blood, the stronger it gets. Same goes for anorexia, the more she feeds on you, the stronger she gets. Ultimately they both want to suck you dry, taking your life away.<br />
<br />
Statistics on anorexia have revealed that mortality rates are higher than from any other psychological disorder, and that 2 in 10 sufferers will die from the illness. It's unfortunate to say that the numbers of people anorexia has latched on to is increasing not only in females, but also in males. Those are frightening statistics which evoke the question in me - how can we kill such a force?<br />
<br />
Vampires are killed by piercing a stake through their heart. In Vampire Diaries there are original vampires, the origin, the source the other vampires evolved from. These vampires can't be killed with an ordinary stake, like other vampires are killed. It is only with a rare white oak stake that they can be killed. If they are staked through the heart, with any ordinary stake, and it is left in place, the original vampires go into a "temporary" death, until the stake is removed.<br />
We need to find a white oak stake equivilant to kill anorexia, but to my knowledge that does not exist as yet. My Vamporexia has a stake through her heart, but occasionally, for unknown reasons, she comes back to life and attempts to sink her fangs back inot me, so she can be brought back to life. <br />
She did exactly that recently, glamouring me back into her world, making me believe that I missed her and needed her in my life. She slowly gained strength and control over me. The stake wasn't completely removed and before she could feed on me too much I managed to kill her (temporarlily) again.<br />
The thing is, I was letting her flirt with me again, until I realized the trap I was falling in to. I found myself doing self distructive things, loathing myself and my body, questioning my life. I told an amazing friend about Vamporexia slowly taking hold of me, which eventuated in me telling mum and dad. They were the antidote to Vamporexia's venom. Anorexia stands alone, she is strong, stronger than you alone, but if you have an army behind you, and you are at the force of that army ready to battle, she stands no chance.<br />
<br />
I am incredibly thankful and fortunate to have family and friends who are there for me, unconditionally, without judgement.<br />
If there is one thing I know for certain, it is that the only way Vamporexia can be staked is when a family unites. The only person who can stake Vamporexia though, is the sufferer themselves.<br />
<br />
I always knew there was a purpose for my love of these shows, and with that in mind, I will continue watching them... who knows what else it may reveal about anorexia.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-78960308073059925542012-12-07T02:41:00.000-08:002012-12-07T02:41:28.072-08:00Ping PongChristmas is in the air and my favorite city at this time of the year is Bern, Switzerland. As you emerge out of the train station you are greeted by the massive window of one of the stores, which is always elaborately decorated to suit the season or event. Yesterday was "chlousetag" or "Santa day" in Switzerland, where Santa comes to your house, determines if you were good or bad, gives you mandarines, peanuts and a present. Yesterday however, Santa was inside the window taking photos with little kids, infecting them with the joyous christmas spirit. Vendors selling christmas cookies were lining the streets, the scent of cinnamon and pine was drifting through the air and the roads were elegantly laced with christmas lights. It was going to be a good day.<br />
<br />
I awoke with excitement, because today was the day I was going to see one of my favorite and most trusted people - Dr. Prinz. I still remember, so vividly, the first time I met him. I was a frail girl, lost and lifeless. He was a larger than life character with a mighty laugh and with a genuine interest to help me. We instantly clicked and he became a fundamental part in my recovery.<br />
<br />
The perception we have of psychiatrists is, generally, very stereotyped. There's a sofa on which you sit, the psychiatrist sits opposite you with his notepad firmly placed on his lap. Often the index finger sits somewhere near the corner of his mouth to give him an analytical look, eyes slightly squinted in thought, attempting to decipher the root of your problem. <br />
Dr. Prinz was the opposite of that. We both sat in chairs as equals, I got to choose my spot. His office was decked out in Disney and Pixar posters, the notepad lay on the table not on his lap, he was interested in me as a person, not me with a problem.<br />
The thing is, a person batteling an addiction, a condition or an illness is still a person. That "condition" isn't what identifies them as a person, it is simply a part of them, it is not the essence of them. Admittedly, when I was in the grips of Anorexia, I did believe it was my identity, the essence of me. Dr. Prinz taught me otherwise and now, in retrospect, I believe that was a crucial part in my recovery.<br />
See, as Dr. Prinz was more interested in me, the person Belinda, he also encouraged me to learn about myself, to peel back the layers and realize that there was more to me than just a "successful" Anorexic. With Dr. Prinz Anorexia never stood in first place, she had to take the backseat, behind me.<br />
Prinz taught me to gradually let go of Anorexia and gradually start grabbing on to life. There were sessions where Anorexia didn't even make it into the conversation because we were too busy discussing Roger Federer, or the events of the 2004 Athens Olympics, books and movies, but my favorite of all - playing Ping Pong. Who would have thought that a Psych would play Ping Pong with a patient when, in reality, they should be taking apart your problem and "fixing" you?<br />
<br />
When we first started playing I hit the ball tentatively, to ensure it would hit the table, I wanted to be "perfect" at the game. I didn't want to make errors, because I believed they would reflect my failings as a person. Prinz, an outstanding Ping Pong player, would adapt his game to my level, occasionally hammering a winner over my end of the table (at his usually level) which, in turn, encouraged me to lift my game. Over time my apprehensions vanished and my game loosened up, much a reflection of my state of mind. The idea of hitting a ball that went too long, or even missing a hit became much more acceptable. And instead of playing with determination and tension, I began to play with fun and ease. Thats how I started beating Prinz, that's how I began beating Anorexia.<br />
<br />
As I took a seat in Prinz's office yesterday his first comment to me was " I brought another T-shirt to change in to so we can have a Ping Pong rematch". Wow, he was getting serious about this game. So after lunch and catching up as friends, no longer on Doctor/Patient terms, we ventured to the Ping Pong stadium. <br />
We began to play and I was keen to show him that my game had become stronger (thanks to the recent lessons from some great friens), as had I as a person.<br />
The ball was hitting the paddles at a rapid pace, tactics were becoming ever more evident and pearls of sweat began to trickle down our foreheads. GAME ON!! We both played with an equal portion of competitiveness and fun. We were literally chasing the ball from one corner of the table to the other. It was intensely fun... except for the part where I (hmmmm, should I admit this...?) Lost.<br />
I lost the game but won my life back.<br />
<br />
The religious game of Ping Pong with Prinz has been a great reflection of the process of my recovery from Anorexia. I learnt that in order to improve my game I had to learn to work on my weak points, I needed to learn to read the game, to have trust in my ability and to accept defeat but not let myself be defeated. As I have become stronger as a person, so has my game. And watch out Dr. Prinz, I will be back for revenge.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7150332499209151696.post-48915867082719222792012-12-02T06:25:00.000-08:002012-12-02T06:25:40.372-08:00The snowflakeToday I awoke to a lush curtain of snow infront of my window. Thick snowflakes were gracefully floating deep into the valley creating a fluffy white carpet on the road. Needless to say my running shoes laced themselves up in no time and, before I knew it, I was out dodging snowflakes that were attacking my face and kicking the freshly fallen snow up behind me.<br />
<br />
There really is nothing, in my opinion, that matches the magical feeling that snow on a cold winters day produces. Sure, the cold is a minor minus, but once you get moving the heat you generate out-heats the cold, creating the perfect running temperature. So running in the snow is actually a big plus, just like the swiss flag.<br />
<br />
My path took me along a 10km trail that runs along the waterfront. Dogs were frolicking in the snow, couples were walking hand in hand beneath the trees that were dressed in white and the smell in the air was hinting that christmas is looming. The wall of snowflakes was so dense that it impaired my vision, resulting in me running squint-eyed the whole way (I occasionally opened my eyes completely so as to be sure that my eyelashes hadn't frozen together):<br />
<br />
Snowflakes are beautiful, especially the ones we see illustrated with their 6 branches that exted from a star-shaped center - pure, glittering, perfect. However, the reality of a snowflake is that each one is individual and unique in structure... no one snowflake is the same. From the moment they are created within a coud they undergo continual change in their shape due to the differing temperature and humidity zones they float through on the journey. No snowflake is perfect, but we know that, once the snowflake falls into its place, it becomes a piece of a bigger picture, it becomes a part of perfection.<br />
<br />
We are not all that different from a snowflake. We are all individual and unique in our personality, shape, beliefs, prefrences, lifestyle etc. Our lives are in a constant state of movement which creates change, whether we realize it or not... Our bodies change.<br />
As I was running throught the snowflakes I began to imagine the snowflake being a reflection of my body. I know the image I harbor in my head of my 'perfect' body, just like we know what the perfect snowflake 'should' look like. I began to realize, that just like the snowflake, my body is designed to change, to fit with the bigger picture that makes me up as a person. That image is not solely made up of the appearance and shape of my body, but also by my personality, values and the environment I live in and many more componants that, eventually, make up the bigger picture of Belle.<br />
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I think we place so much value on our physical appearance because its (often) the first thing that represents us before we have the opportunity to reveal ourselves through words and actions. Maybe we should change our attitude and let ourselves float through the different zones of change until we fall in into the spot that is waiting for us. Although we could debate if that spot even exists...? The point I'm trying to make is that instead of fighting change we should embrace it, in all its forms. A snowflake can be moulded into a snowball once it has fallen, so maybe we too, can mould change into a snowball that fits in our fist. The ball is in our hands.<br />
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In a trans-like state I kept running through the beautiful snowflakes, imagining myself being one of them, perfectly unique and individual.Belle Zimmerlihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17500082590917099091noreply@blogger.com0