The Influence of The Art of Peace on The Art of Hurdling
by Steve McGill
In one of the introductory sections of my book, The Art of Hurdling, which became available for sale on February 2nd, I discuss non-hurdling related influences on my coaching methods. In that section, I discuss three books: The Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu–a philosophical Eastern text, Zen in the Art of Archery by Eugen Herrigel–a book by a German author that also is heavily influenced by Eastern philosophy, and Sacred Hoops by Phil Jackson–a memoir by former basketball coach Phil Jackson in which he delineates the many influences (Eastern and Western) on his coaching methods. A fourth book, which I didn’t mention in my book, but that I want to talk about here, is The Art of Peace by Japanese 20th century martial arts teacher Morihei Ueshiba.
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I read this book about twenty years ago, shortly after reading the Tao Te Ching, as I was looking for books with similar themes regarding simplicity, fluidity of motion and learning to go with the flow of life without forcing things. The title of The Art of Peace refers to a martial art that Ueshiba created himself, called Aikido. The term “Aikido” roughly translates into “The Way of Unifying energy.” It’s a martial art that emphasizes moving with the flow of one’s opponent’s movements in order to minimize the effort needed to defeat one’s opponent. Though Aikido was based on martial arts that Ueshiba had already studied and mastered, he found that the previous martial arts were based on principles that he sought to distance himself from. Having lived through two world wars, Ueshiba was seeking a different path, one that valued peace and harmony, as he felt that any martial art one sought to master should reflect that person’s moral and spiritual principles as well.
I felt, and feel, the same way. In my mind and in my heart, I had always felt hurdling to be a calling, just for the simple fact that not everybody can do it, and also because of the amount of frustration one must overcome on the road to mastery. In my coaching, I’ve never preferred to take short cuts, or to encourage my athletes to do so. And the process of learning how to hurdle does become a spiritual experience, whether one approaches from that perspective or not. It becomes a spiritual experience because it constantly teaches you to be humble, but, paradoxically, constantly teaches you to be confident in yourself, to believe in yourself, to get back up when you fall down. Any endeavor that forces you to look deeper within yourself to bring out the best in yourself is taking you on a spiritual journey, even if that journey takes place in the secular world.
In the book, he talks a lot about his spiritual beliefs, but he also talks a lot about the Aikido technique. Many of the things he says about Aikido were, I found, easily applicable to hurdling. And it was on that level that I felt myself responding to the book and relating to its message. Ultimately, as is the case when you feel a true connection to an exceptional teacher, Ueshiba’s message became my own message. In my book, The Art of Hurdling, I include a quote from The Art of Peace that articulates one of my own guiding principles. Here’s the quote:
In the Art of Peace, a technique can only work if it is in harmony with universal principles. Such principles need to be grasped through Mind, pure consciousness. Selfish desires thwart your progress, but Mind, not captivated by notions of victory or defeat, will liberate you. Mind fixes your senses and keeps you centered. Mind is the key to wondrous power and supreme clarity.
Now let’s break it down. In the way that Ueshiba means “Mind” when he uses that word, he’s talking about what I would refer to as an empty mind. When the mind is not worrying, wishing, hoping, desiring, fighting, resisting, when the mind is not racing and chasing, the mind, in that sense, is empty. Not empty in the sense of being vacant, but empty in the sense of being uncluttered. In the hurdles, we don’t realize how much we cause bad races by trying our hardest not to run bad races. We don’t realize how much we get in our own way by trying to be upbeat and trying to think positive thoughts. What we don’t realize is that positive contains its opposite–negative. The truly “ready” athlete is the one who is free of all thought–positive and negative. That’s what he means when he says “selfish desires thwart your progress.” That’s what he means when he says that the empty mind “will liberate you.”
Everything he says, and everything I’m saying, is in total polar opposition to conventional thought. And I guess that’s why it appeals to me–because conventional thought is so conventional, and ultimately so ineffective. The paradox here, as I mention in my book, is that the best races are run when you just focus on the feeling of rhythm in motion, of effortless action, of being one with the hurdle. So few coaches and athletes realize how fulfilling and gratifying the whole experience can be when the focus is on being an artist instead of on being a competitor. There’s a blissful joy in hurdling that many hurdlers never get to experience because they’re always chasing. Even when they’re running well, they’re so fixated on their time and place and how fast they have to run in order to qualify for the next round or next meet or to earn a scholarship offer or whatever. Chasing after times really sucks the joy out of hurdling. And the irony, I am saying, is that running with joy and in the spirit of mastering the art form will actually lead to faster times than chasing fast times will. People just don’t get it, and I get frustrated sometimes, to the point where I want to go coach on an island somewhere so I can coach the event in as pure a manner as possible.
Another quote from the book:
The key to good technique is to keep your hands, feet, and hips straight and centered. If you are centered, you can move freely.
This simple edict has much more meat to it than meets the eye. What does it mean to be centered? What Ueshiba is saying here is that all parts of the body must be working together. Being centered, for hurdlers, means not relying on the lead leg more than the trail leg, and vice versa. It means not relying on speed more than technique, and vice versa. Being centered means keeping the hips straight, it means eliminating pauses, and allowing power to be the natural consequence of fluidity as opposed to trying to impose one’s will on the hurdles.
There are plenty of other passages in the book that can be applied to hurdling. If you get a chance to order a copy, I would suggest doing so. It’s an excellent read.
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