Sobering Thoughts

For my long run I headed out to Natick and ran along the course, starting at about mile 10 or 11, heading out to mile 21 or so and back. As I drove out, wondering why there was traffic on a Saturday morning, I found myself thinking about marathon day, running on that day, finishing on that day, and I couldn't help thinking about what happened last year. Who could have seen that coming? What if something else happens this year? What then?

I'm not one to dwell too much on the possibility of bad things happening, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I thought of that woman training for Boston who was killed by a drunk driver while out on her run in Richmond VA--she didn't know when she headed out that it would be her last run.

And this past week I was at the massage therapist, just about to go in, when I heard a woman in the waiting room say that she'd just heard of the death of someone she knew. As I walked away I heard the name and was stunned because I knew that person too. Or did I? Maybe it was someone else. But no. It was her. She died of carbon monoxide poisoning. Just like that. She went to sleep and never woke up.

Bad things happen and you don't see them coming. That's part of the reason they're so tragic. But what do you do? Stay home because something might happen if you go out? But something could happen at home too. And at any rate, is cowering inside, living? Is letting fear be the deciding factor of our every choice, living the fullness of life?

These past few days, these questions have been on my mind a lot. As I head out for a run, I wonder: what if this is my last run? What if I don't come back? With the snow banks as they are, and winter not over yet, this possibility doesn't seem so far into left field. And then I pray: please let me come back, God. Please don't let this be my last run. Because I don't want it to be my last run. But it could be. And this is a sobering thought.

I've heard it said that the most often repeated words in the Bible are "be not afraid" or a variation of these words. Of course, they are probably mostly said in response to people's reaction before the glory of God.

But it's a good mantra to get me going. And once I'm going, all these fears soon recede and disappear, at least for the time being. Because when I'm out running, I may start out thinking about stuff, but after a few miles, the only thing I'm thinking about is running--my breathing, my pace, my stride rate, relaxing my shoulders, my arm swing, all those running related details. And this is one of the reasons I like running: it keeps the dark clouds from dominating my thoughts, at least for a moment.

Sunday's gospel talks about freedom--at least, I think so--freedom from oppression, from our own feeling of anger, or desire for retribution. Last week, my prayer was for joy. Maybe this week it should be for freedom, freedom from fear.

What are you praying for this week?

In A Rut

Of late, the running has been going… eh. It’s not terrible: the hill work seems to go well—and that will be important and I hope will pay off come marathon day—the long runs and easy runs go ok. But it’s not going stellar either: the tempo runs, the intervals, in other words, the most challenging runs, have been going so-so. Actually, I’m not sure when’s the last time I finished one of those runs feeling like I really did well. I’ve had intervals I’ve quit after barely starting I was so tired and draggy, and tempo runs I peter out even though I’m giving it all I can. Sure, I’ve been tired, and now a little sick (of course still running), but still, it’s discouraging.

And as I consider how the running has been going of late, I can’t help noticing that it seems to mirror the way I feel my spiritual life is going… eh. Also, not terrible. There are moments and days when I feel God’s presence and feel purpose and enthusiasm and joy. Then there’s moments and days when I can’t get out of my own way and I’m just tired, and draggy, and feel like I need a vacation, except I was just on vacation. It’s discouraging.

See what I mean about mirroring? Which makes me wonder if there’s a connection. Is my spiritual state affecting my running? Or is my running affecting my spiritual state? Age old question—which came first, the chicken or the egg, right? But I do believe that there is in fact a connection as I firmly believe that we are embodied spirits and our body and spirit are one (I think of it as the human version of the hypostatic union—two natures, one person).

So which got the ball rolling in this downward slope? Both. But that doesn’t really matter too much now that I’m there. The question now is how to get out of it or stop it or change direction or invite a change in direction?

I had a flash of insight on this question while out driving. It occurred to me, that, generally speaking, in both my running and spiritual life, what I’m lacking is joy. It’s not that I’m completely joyless, but, I would say lately there’s too much blahness and not enough joy.

If joy is what I need, how do you cultivate it? How do you nurture it? That’s a good question to ponder and work on. For starters, I think I’ll start with prayer. My spiritual director always tells me to pray for the grace I need. Well, I need joy God… how about some?

What grace do you find you need in your spiritual life these days?