If you’ve ever participated in any kind of race, you’ve probably heard the advice “You need to run/ride your own race.” It’s sound advice. Afterall, we are most experienced at knowing the pacing, timing and rhythm that will work best for us.
However, when the gun fires and the race starts, it is very easy to let “race brain” take over your plan. Lots of runners or riders + horses moving off in the same direction can make you forget your pace and your needs. Other people’s energy and plans (or no plan) can start deciding your fate. Newcomers to races often learn this the hard way: They go out too quickly and end up spent well before the finish line. In short, they did not run their own race.
I’ve noticed how easy it is for me to have a similar experience in challenging yoga classes. I enjoy a vinyasa practice and appreciate exploring the Ashtanga sequence. However, given my history of shoulder injuries (not yoga related, but due to poor landings off horses!), there is a limit to how many chaturangas I can support in a class. I often vary my flow-throughs with grasshopper (knees, chest, chin), cobras, and even just downward dog to not quite up dog flows above the ground.
However, more than once I have gotten caught up in the energy of the class, the enjoyment of building heat in the spine and the pleasure of challenging my strength. Then I start to notice that my shoulders are getting cooked—and the class is half over! I have a choice at that point: I could ignore my shoulders and continue to move without adequate support. I know too well that this will have unpleasant consequences, namely pain and a need to take extra care of my shoulders for a week or more. Over the years, I’ve gotten better at another choice, which is simply to laugh at my excitement for all those chaturangas and to simply modify or skip challenging postures in the later portion of the class which will be beyond my shoulder’s capacity on that day. Headstand is a common posture that I skip if I have “run out” of safe shoulders. For me, I feel safest in my cervical spine (another horse injury) and happiest in my stability if I take very little weight on my head in headstand. That means my arms and shoulders need to be up to the task. If they are not, I will place too much weight on my head.
After years of practice, you’d think that I might know better than to practice someone else’s practice. I’m just grateful that I catch myself doing this a lot earlier than I used to, and make adjustments that feel fair, healthy and freeing for my body. By the way, in my own practice, I explore headstands without a lot of chaturangas before hand!
So check out how much you are practicing your practice while you are in a group setting. Notice if at any point you’ve stopped paying attention to your practice, but have the sensation of keeping up with another practice. There’s no need to get upset at this point—just laugh at the temptation to run someone else’s race, take a few breaths, and return to your own body-mind. You really are your best teacher!
