This post is by Amy Karet of ActualAmy.com.

We’ve all heard how great running is for your mind, body, and spirit. I never really believed it until I took up running a couple of years ago. I was stunned by the transformation created in every aspect of my life.

After about a year of running, I was fitter, cuter, more confident, and more energetic than I’d ever imagined possible. I was calmer, a better mother, wife, friend, and employee. The change was dramatic.

But it took me 34 years to get there. I’d always been a wannabe runner. I would see these lithe, energetic people bounding down the street and wish I was one of them. But I wrote it off, deciding I was too fat or not athletic enough to run. Plus, the few times I’d gotten over myself and did run, I wound up panting, exhausted and hurt. I decided I was not born to run.

But then, a beautiful friend helped me get started the right way, and her beautiful husband introduced me to the book No Need for Speed by John Bingham. With their support and encouragement, I learned a few things that will help you go from wannabe to runner, too.

Invest in a good pair of running shoes

I heard this for years and ignored it for years, and I wore my regular old shoes every time I started an ultimately-failed running program.

But this time, I went to a running store (I know, I know. It’s embarrassing and intimidating to step foot into a place you obviously don’t belong. But I’ve found that runners love other runners, and veteran runners love helping new runners. You will be surprised and heartened by how helpful and non-judgmental they are). They figured out what kind of stride I have and whether or not I pronate or overpronate (I do one of them, but I can never remember which one.)

They got me the right shoes, and I cannot tell you what a difference it made. You’re going to be sore when you start a running program. There is no getting around that. But you shouldn’t be in pain. The time I finally broke down and got the running shoes was the first time I was able to run without pain.

Take it s…l…o…w…

This is important for everybody, but it’s especially important if you’ve ignored step number one and don’t have good shoes. Starting out slowly will decrease your chances of getting hurt, and increase your enjoyment of the process.

As complete beginners, we try to run the way we’ve seen people running: quickly and efficiently. We race out of the gate, trying to run as far as we can, as fast as we can. We end up at the ends of our driveways, panting, flushed, knees hurting, and hoping our neighbors will buy the story that we were being chased by a killer hornet.

When I say go slow, I don’t mean pretty slow. I mean painstakingly, little-old-ladies-in-walkers-are-passing-you slow. I mean molasses. I mean you are running so slowly that you could easily get where you’re going faster by walking. Slowly. If you think you’re running so slowly you couldn’t possibly go any slower, slow down just a little.

My friends call it trudging. Because when you’re first starting out, how fast you’re going or how far you can run aren’t important. What is important is getting your body used to the motion of running. It feels like you’re going nowhere. It feels stupid and silly. You already feel dumb running in front of your neighbor’s house, and then, if you’re trudging, it takes you five minutes to get past it.

It feels dumb now, but it will save your knees and your lungs and your pride in the long run. You can take off sprinting today and spend the next week discouraged and unable to walk, or you can trudge today and the day after tomorrow, and then again two days after that. (You shouldn’t run every day—your body needs time to recover.)

Not only should you run slowly, you should not run the whole time. When I was just starting out, I would walk for about two minutes and run for 30 seconds to a minute. If you’re trudging, this shouldn’t be too painful. If you are gasping for breath at the end of your minute, you are going too fast. At the end of your minute, you should feel like you could do it for another minute. You can. Just not today.

Over a period of weeks, you will be able to slowly decrease the amount of time you spend walking and increase the amount of time you spend running.

Run your own race

My mantra for the first six months of running was “It’s not about them. It’s about me.” I was worried about what the neighbors were thinking, or what the guy on the treadmill next to me was thinking. I was worried that they thought it was stupid of me, this little overweight drama club girl, to be trying to run.

When these thoughts started taking over, I’d look straight ahead and repeat my mantra.

There is always going to be someone faster or slower than you are. There will always be somebody with better or worse form. There will always be someone with cuter running clothes. There will always be the girl who looks like she knows exactly what she is doing, and you will feel stupid.

But it doesn’t matter. You are here to run your own race, live your own life. Put on your blinders and go for it full-on.

Celebrate little accomplishments

Soon, your body will get more used to the motion of trudging, and you will be able to do it a little faster. And a little farther. Before you know it, you’ll be doing two minutes of running and thirty seconds of walking.

I live just a few blocks away from a park and I used to think to myself, “Someday, I will run from my house to here.” It is not an impressive distance by any means (I’ve never actually measured it, but I know it’s less than a mile. Probably less than half a mile). But the day I ran all the way from my house to the park, I stopped and cried. I’d always wanted it, but I never thought it would happen for me. It wasn’t a world record, I didn’t do it quickly, but it was my personal achievement, and I celebrated it.

Don’t wait to call yourself a runner

I thought I wasn’t a real runner because I was too slow. Then, I got a little faster and decided I wasn’t a real runner because I didn’t do races. Then, I entered a race but thought I was too overweight to be a “real” runner. I finished a half-marathon, but then I decided that real runners run full marathons. Who knows what will happen if I ever lose my mind and decide to do a full marathon?

But after the half-marathon, I realized that a runner isn’t someone who runs races, or runs a certain speed or distance. A runner is someone who makes the decision every day to put on their shoes and go out there and put one foot in front of the other.

A runner is someone who fights those demons in her head, heart and soul and does it anyway.

A runner is someone who runs.

I promise you, if you get out there with some good shoes, take it slowly, run your own race and celebrate yourself along the way, you will be a runner, too.

When Amy isn’t trudging or pretending to be Diego with her kids, she is learning to embrace who she really is at her blog, ActualAmy.com.

This post is by Claudia Azula Altucher of Claudiayoga.com.

Back when I started practicing yoga I did not much care for studios or teachers. I thought I could be self-didactic and learn it all on my own. I was, after all an independent grown woman with a managing corporate job in New York City. How hard could yoga be?

And so I decided on a style I liked: Ashtanga. I mostly liked it because its “Mysore style” is practiced by the student alone, even if in a group setting.

This means that nobody needs to be in the studio at a specific time. No, instead one just goes, places the mat and starts practicing, then the instructor comes around and adjusts or adds or subtracts poses within the confines of a pre-determined series and depending on the student’s level. I liked the independence of that style; I was all about being on my own and doing things my way.

However, a time came in which some of the poses got to be a little uncomfortable. Take kurmasana, for example, the “turtle” pose. Much as I tried, there was no way I was going to get anywhere close to the final form of it and get all the healing benefits.

Also by then, after about six months of going it alone I realized that maybe going to a studio and surrendering to a teacher may not be such a bad idea.

I was in awe on my first visit to a studio. Seeing others struggle or move faster and with much more grace was an inspiration and humiliation at the same time. I was in awe at the advanced students and could see my small progress in those that were just starting. Learning to keep the gazing point just into my practice was a big test.

By sticking to a teacher I learned of the benefits of having a regular human being who is much more advanced than me lead the way. I was able to relax, let the adjustments happen, and the deepening and openings be guided and supported. Not only that, I also learned about my teachers’ teacher, and his teacher in turn. I ended up very curious and traveling to India to the source and eventually tracing the chain to one short man 5’5’ in high: Tirumalai Krishnamacharya.

This man may not resonate as a household name unless you are in a yoga circle, but all of his students, or most of them would. For example, B.K.S. Iyengar, or Pattabhi Jois, Indra Devi, T.K.V. Desikachar—his son—or S.Ramaswami, amongh others, were all students of him. They all got a little piece of the wisdom of this master of yoga who is pretty much responsible for the basics of every yoga class you get on today, including that first one I finally dared take in mid-town New York City a few years ago.

In a world filled with so much yoga, how does one know to trust that this lineage or style? How is one to know that all the students that came from the tradition of Krishnamcharya are indeed good teachers? We do not know. There is no easy answer. All yoga teachers are people, and as with all people, you get all flavors.

There are a few stories of Krishnamacharya, however, that I always love re-reading. For example, in the 1950’s he was teaching yoga in a college in Chennai, but there was a difference of opinion with the management as of how he should be teaching.

Krishnamacharya, who by then was a master who had been studying and practicing the yoga sciences for over 35 years, was not willing to compromise on his teachings and the management threatened to dismiss him. To this he said: “Very well, I will have more time for my own practice.”

Another time Krishanamacharya was conducting a “rare” demonstration-class (he normally taught only one-on-one) where he mentioned that there are thirty-two variations of headstands. The class was silent. A student of him, A.G.Mohan, doubted him but did not say anything; however, the muscles in his face betrayed him and showed his feelings. Krishnamacharya looked at him and said: “What? It looks like you don’t believe me. Fold that mat and place it here”. He then demonstrated the 32 variations of headstand. He was 85 year -old.

These stories come from a book written by that dubious student, A.G. Mohan. Perhaps the most interesting one happens about a week before the time in which the great yogi died. This same student asked him the question: “What is important in life?” to which he replied, “Money is not important. Health, Longevity. A tranquil mind.”

Through these stories I see a dedicated, truth seeking, fierce, and determined practitioner who cares deeply about having a tranquil mind. And maybe these are the best guidelines we can follow when we are looking for a teacher to trust, a style that resonates, a yoga studio where we can surrender and gain all the benefits of yoga.

Finding out that a man of this stature was behind those poses I was doing every day, and that there was a method to the madness made me stop and reconsider, get more focused, trust the system. It gave me faith that through dedication it is possible to attain all that yoga has to offer not just “on”, but also “off” the mat.

I find it important to have as inspiration someone who walked the talk—someone who knew, through years of experience—what the science of yoga was, and could relate it to others.

I wish I had met him, but I never did.

They say that to get good at things, one needs to be mentored. I believe that for any endeavor one might try in life, it’s important to seek the best in the field, then imitate, fake it till one makes it, and keep the faith—not just in yoga, but in any field. Don’t you?

Claudia Azula Altucher has studied yoga for over a decade and all over the world including the Ashtanga Yoga Research Institute in Mysore, India, and at Centered Yoga in Thailand. She writes daily at Claudiayoga.com.

This post is by Glad Doggett of bestlaidscheme.com

How many times have you messed up or made a mistake and immediately lashed out?

“You big dummy! How did you screw that up? Can’t you do anything right?”

Or, how often have you looked in the mirror in disgust and sneered?

“Time to start a new diet, fatso! You look horrible! You shouldn’t leave the house. What a disgrace!”

Well, according to research by Dr. Kristin Neff, an associate professor of human development at the University of Texas at Austin, and author of Self-Compassion: Stop Beating Yourself Up and Leave Insecurity Behind, self-talk that is harsh and self-critical can lead feelings of depression, anxiety, and worthlessness. Studies show that using shame, guilt and anxiety as motivators is ineffective and potentially harmful to our feelings of self-worth.

A recent story in the New York Times by Tara Parker-Pope revealed that showing ourselves a little compassion, and extending to ourselves the same kindness and forgiveness we give to our friends and family, may be the first step to living lives filled with happiness, success and well-being.

The science shows that when we show ourselves compassion and talk to ourselves they way we’d talk to a down-and-out friend, we activate the areas in our brains that control feelings of being nurtured, encouraged, and cared for.

If kinder self-talk is the key to more successful, happier life, why do so many of us resist it?

Dr. Neff’s research found that people mistakenly believe self-compassion will lead to “self-indulgence and lower standards.” Many people, it seems, believe that harsh self-criticism keeps them “in line.” Most of us have been influenced through social conditioning to believe that self-compassion can lead to slothful, lazy behaviors. In other words, if we give ourselves a break, we let ourselves off the hook.

But, Neff’s research points to opposite findings. She contends that many people “fall into a cycle of self-criticism and negativity … that leaves them feeling even less motivated to change.”

The research shows that self-compassion helps us maintain—not abandon—our standards. It helps us succeed in our pursuits, reach our goals, as well as increase feelings of well-being.

So, how can we build a practice of extending self-acceptance and compassion to ourselves?

The secret is awareness of our inner critic, and taking small steps to challenge the criticisms it unleashes.

Start noticing times when you berate yourself. Begin to notice how your body feels and the thoughts that run through your head. Instead of going on auto-pilot with harsh self-talk, pause and pay attention. Start being mindful of what’s happening to you in the moment.

Make a daily practice of reminding yourself what’s right about you. What qualities do you like most about yourself? Which of your traits make you unique? List the gifts you share with others that make the world a better place. Fostering self-love is a habit we must build every day. Like brushing your teeth, you can’t do it just once and be done with it.

Change your self-talk. Instead of calling yourself worthless, offer yourself the same encouragement and support that you would offer a loved one. Write several affirmations that you can pull out when you feel the pull to criticize.

Try phrases such as, “I’m doing my best and I’m ok with that.”

Or, “I am enough just the way I am right now.”

Building a self-compassion habit may feel awkward at first. You will be pushing against an old, stubborn mind-set that has been your default setting for a very long time.

But, in the end, being kind and loving and appreciative toward yourself will lead you to a more fulfilling, happy life. And isn’t that truly what we all want?

Glad Doggett is a coach who spends most of her time on the blog Best Laid Scheme. She recently launched an eworkshop called re: Turn to You that encourages building a practice of self-love and compassion through exploring, excavating, and expressing what it means to be you.

This guest posy is by Sarah Wagner Yost of www.sarahwagneryost.com.

Have you ever tried to have an adult conversation with someone but couldn’t concentrate because your eyelid was twitching?

It might be a neurological malfunction. It might, as the superstition says, mean that money will cross your hands soon.

More likely, it’s because your jaw is tight. Do you clench your teeth or grind them at night? If your neck and shoulders get tight when you’re stressed, your jaw is probably also involved. You might also feel a weird itch inside your ear or have a runny nose with no cause.

You can make it stop

If muscles are to blame, self massage will take care of it. If it doesn’t, check with your doctor to rule out anything more serious.

A trigger point is like a hot little spitfire of a muscle which wreaks random havoc. It often refers pain and seemingly unrelated symptoms to other parts of the body. That’s why trigger points in your mouth can cause your eyelid twitch.

When working on your own trigger points, press as hard as you can stand but not harder. More is not more. You’ll know you’re on a trigger point because it will hurt but in a good way. It will feel satisfying, like you’re scratching an itch.

Get relief in five minutes

1. You’ll be sticking your fingers in your mouth so go wash your hands.
2. Go on, wash them. This will just take a few minutes.
3. Stick your pointer finger inside your cheek and find the hard muscle near the back. This is the masseter muscle. It goes up and down and is the first hard muscle you’ll feel in the cheek.
4. Move your finger to the top of the muscle, next to the upper gums and press firmly. You’re looking for the spots that zing. Press each spot for about 30 seconds using all of the pressure you can stand, which may be very little for the first few days. That’s just fine. Pressing hard will not make it better faster. It will likely make it worse. Inch your way around the entire muscle, stopping on any tender spots.
5. The next area you’ll work is the gum line above your upper back teeth. Poke around the gumline and massage the zingy areas.

You don’t have to marry this

Four days is plenty for this technique. Do this for five minutes, three times a day for four days or until you stop finding zingers.

Just working those two spots on both sides should bring pretty quick relief of symptoms. You’ll be surprised at how sensitive you are the first couple of times. The sensitivity will get better fast. You’ll get relief from the twitch, jaw pain and itchy ear pretty quickly.

Do you ever suffer eyelid twitch? Have you tried anything to make it stop?

Sarah is a mind-body coach who helps stressed out moms rock it without guilt. If you’ve ever felt bad for saying no, Sarah’s your girl. Working with her is better than Valium. Grab her RSS feed here and follow her on Twitter.