Running in the rain

For those who have quit looking at my blog because it hasn't been updated for so long, well, you're not reading this, so that's that. For those of you patient enough to wait while I had writer's block, brain-cramp, or was just generally apathetic...Thanks! (and special thanks to Mike for reminding me that writing can just be random and fun with his Starbucks musings)

I went out for my first run in several months the other day. I can't believe it's been nearly two years of frustration to fight my way to being able to run consistently. I continue to stubbornly try to work myself into running shape even though I keep failing.

I guess that's the definition of faith though, right? I keep trying to be able to run and have to accept God's timing for when that will happen. In the meantime I do believe it will happen in spite of all the negative results of my efforts. Sometimes I find myself hoping this is all just a tool God has used in my life to cement in my head and heart that I'm passionate about running (I had lost that passion a couple years ago). If there are other lessons I'm supposed to learn, I sure wish I had figured them out sooner so the lesson would be over.
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My first run last week was a gift. That's what running is to me now; a gift to be thankful for.

As I laced up my shoes I noticed all the little things I miss. The shape of my calf transitioning to the ankle high socks with the flecks of mud writing stories of past trail runs on them. The smell of shoes that only have another dozen or so runs to go, as my toes nestle into the ruts they've shaped over time.

I slid on my jacket and felt its smooth nylon sliding on my arms, followed by the 'whoosh...whoosh' it sounded with each stride toward the locker room door. After clipping my ipod to my hip and threading my earphone cord under my shirt, I hit 'play' and selected mellow music to start warming up my mind and body.

I stepped outside to a slight breeze and mixed greys across the sky like a canvas of a charcoal relief ready for color to be added. Feeling the pavement under my feet, I headed toward the trail of the day. The chill of an unseasonably cool spring day bit at my hands and face, waking me up like a dip in an alpine lake.

My first step on the trail was met with the distinct feeling of soggy bark and mud mixed and forced into a ridge by the last few people who'd run along that way. The ridge collapsed as my foot pushed it down and made a new print. Pieces of bark and mud made new patterns on the sides of my shoes.

I started walking to warm up my legs shortly before the skies opened up and big, plump raindrops began rolling down my head and chest. In a moment of childlike joy , I began running and smiling. Within a half-minute my head was drenched while droplets formed and rolled off my water resistant shell, still 'whoosh, whooshing'.

I switched the music to something powerful and driving and switched gears, running much faster. I felt my own inner power increase with the inspiration of the moment. "Thanks for coming out to play with me, God", I thought to myself. "This is fun, let's enjoy this together!"

Before the end of the song, I started feeling my lack of fitness. I slowed to a rhythmic footstrike feeling my feet squish the bark-mud under my feet, hearing my jacket and my breathing in syncopation.

A worship song came next, and I grew contemplative. I disappeared from this earth. The rhythm of my feet, breath, and jacket continued unconsciously while my mind wandered into the deep, finding sustenaince for the daily grind.

I neared the run's end, slowing to a walk and returning to reality. The rain had stopped. I felt slightly chilled on my skin with goosebumps on my legs, but warm in my body from the run. I laid down to stretch and begin the process of getting clean to return to work.

I felt washed, refreshed, and warmly relaxed.

That's what I've been missing...