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.

UP HILL RUN

Straight up hill. Brendon and I tackled for the first time in his stroller the Longview Hill. It was the 12:00, very warm but thankfully a breeze. I can only explain it as God energy. After several warm up hills we headed for the big one. Straight up! PUSHING, PUSHING, SWEATING... But we made it! I wasn't prepared for the downhill which was even harder. With the momentum of the stroller I struggled to keep the pace slow and even. I kept thinking if there was a way to steer this thing I'd just jump on. But we made it both up and down, and then had the flat, even, quiet run to the station camp area. Brendon was an excellent training partner though I forgot the sunscreen and he complained about his legs being hot. The stroller rolled well and was easy to push. We ended up running a little under 10 miles, in a little less than 2 hours. Have a blessed week, until next time...

Blind Running

Today was my long run. I wasn't sure when this week I would be able to get in the 8 mile long run that was part of my training this week. And putting it on my calendar in advance for some reason leads me to dread the day. Today was a relaxed Sunday, with no agenda, a perfect time to run. The sky was cloudy and the temperatures were in the low 80's, a little humid but thankfully cloud cover.

I have been wanting to run the big hill off Long Hollow, straight up, but have always found an excuse to not run it. Today was the day. Straight up I went, it was long. I used the distance to run with my eyes closed, something I will do on a hill that is really hard. I put myself in the place of a person with blindness. How is the world different from that point of view? I close my eyes, thinking of Gavin, my friends son who has blindness as a result of prematurity. I thought of the person this year who completed the Country Music Marathon. How did they do it? I tried to pay attention to the sounds. It was quiet. And I became aware. I could only close my eyes a few minutes before I'd had to see what was going on. I would test myself trying to run a little longer with my eyes closed. On one of my blind trials I began veering off the road, opening my eyes just before I ran off the road. All you runners out there, try it, view the world from a different perspective. Appreciate the great gift our eyes are and the utter awe of those without their sight and how God allows them to view the world.

The rest of the run was peaceful. I love runs like the one I did today. It was quiet, with sights to see, hay bales, a family of quail, the stream that is very low right now, a few cars, a smashed turtle, and frog in the road, some buzzards. I was comfortable.

"I will run with perseverance the race that is set before me"

Blessings for a peaceful day,

Michele