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?