Running Through the Snow

Running Through the Snow January 30, 2010


It’s cold out there and running in the cold is not one of my favorite things to do. In fact, my whole body braces against the chill. So I choose to head to the heated conditions of the treadmill at the YMCA. It was warm, and crowded, the steam almost rising from the concrete floor in direct contrast to the steamy cold swirling outside. Wanting to connect with the beauty of the whiteness of the falling snowflakes, I choose a treadmill close to the window.

I began my run in the usual contemplative fashion alternating between active prayer (the rosary, bible verses, and individual prayer intentions) and meditation (awareness of the breath, the physical sensations of my shoes hitting the rubber surface of the treadmill, my beating heart). Settling into rhythm and awareness of prayer and meditation, the snow floating outside the window kept it’s gentle call. I remained in awareness, and noticed rejection of the notion to simply head outside. “I didn’t dress for outdoor conditions,” my mind kept protesting, followed by the gentle response, “Yes, you have a sweatshirt and gloves. That will keep you warm,” my contemplative mind countered.

So I formulated a plan, fifty minutes in the warmth of the treadmill, 5 minutes outside. The excitement of doing something I don’t usually do propelled me out the door. The sharp contrast between my body dripping in the sweat of the treadmill run and the refreshing gasp of the chill air spurred me forward. I floated, almost effortlessly down the street, gliding with the wind. This was fun I remember thinking, exhilarating even. Then I had to turn a corner, heading uphill no less, into the wind. The contrast was not lost on me; warmth, exhilaration, energy with bracing chill, discomfort, escape.

How often life is like this run, I reflected. Sometimes life brings you warmth – a hug from a child, or loving words from a friend. Other times life brings you bracing chill – being let go from a job, a parent’s illness. Sometimes life brings you exhilaration – a successful completion of a project, or a new relationship. Other times life brings you discomfort – the flu, a messy house. Sometimes life events energize you – an acknowledgement of a job well done or discovery of a new talent. Other times the desire to escape overwhelms you – a drawn out divorce, or a long term disability. But in the midst of this run we call life, to be aware of all that it brings, the good, the less than good, I have noticed that showing up, being willing to take a risk and brace out into the chill always brings the presence of the divine. Like the run, the not so pleasant aspects – my uncovered ears, exposed legs, and chilled face – allowed me to recognize the more peaceful moments – the stillness of my surroundings, the freshness in the air, the gentle touch of the snowflakes. Awareness, willingness, and peace are the rewards for showing up, and taking the risk. There may be discomfort in awareness of the divine but the peace that comes is not to be missed.