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?
I Do Not Run Aimlessly: a blog about running-inspired reflections on the spiritual life.
Showing posts with label winter running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winter running. Show all posts
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Jedi Mind Tricks
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord
On Friday I had a tempo run planned. This would be a short run but at a harder pace; as hard as I could go for 30 minutes without slowing down. The days leading up to this run, I prepared by thinking about what pace I could maintain--I can run at a 7:00 m/m pace for 2 miles but 4? Was 7:15 more realistic? 7:30?
In addition to mulling about the pace, I thought about where I'd run, what I'd wear, checked the weather... I even adjusted my dinner plan to make sure I didn't get derailed by digestive issues.
Morning came and I got up and ready, opened the blinds and ... what?! Snow?! Really?! That wasn't in the weather report. At least not the ones I looked at. I thought of changing and heading to the gym, but frankly, I was sick of the gym after running on the treadmill for a week because of that arctic vortex. So I headed out anyway.
But, as soon as I started running, reality hit. There were ice patches beneath the snow, and after a couple of near wipeouts, I called it quits, walked back to my car, and ditched the run for the day.
It seems to me that lately, the weather has been derailing my running and although I know I'm being completely irrational, I can't help this feeling that somehow I've brought this on, that I'm to blame. Where is that crazy thought coming from? If you read my previous post, in it, I talked about running outside despite the cold and all that winter stuff--it might have even sounded like bragging. And wouldn't you know it, as if to throw this all on my face, we get this blast of frigid air in which hypothermia can set in rather quickly and I'm not crazy enough to risk that, so there have been multiple days of indoor running, and now snow.
Of course I know it's not my fault. I mean... really, to think that any rambling of mine has any kind of influence on the weather... Plus, how scary would that be!
It's easy to see the ridiculousness of this kind of thought trajectory. And yet, I'm pretty sure there are many people out there who have followed such a train of thought. Everything's going great in your life, things couldn't be better, and you have the audacity to delight and relish such good fortune when bam! disaster hits and instead of recognizing that things happen, you blame yourself--if only you hadn't dared fate with that terrible thought of gratitude for all those blessings. Yes, stopping to appreciate how good you have it is bound to lead to disaster and all those grateful people are to blame.
Of course I'm making it sound crazy, but I know there are people who really think this way and can't help feeling they're to blame for things that are totally out of their control. I'm one of those people! It's not a rational thing, and I am aware of that. And yet, deep down, despite all logic, the feeling of blame, that somehow it's your fault, is quietly gnawing at you.
Jedi mind tricks, or the god complex as my spiritual director would put it. Yep, my thoughts have such power that they can bring on all sorts of things: cold weather, snow, injury, illness, just to name a few. Boy, no wonder I'm exhausted.
I only hope that one of these days, what I believe in my head and profess with my lips, will sink in to my gut too--that I'm just a little human being, and that God... well, is not me, and we can all be very grateful for that!
On Friday I had a tempo run planned. This would be a short run but at a harder pace; as hard as I could go for 30 minutes without slowing down. The days leading up to this run, I prepared by thinking about what pace I could maintain--I can run at a 7:00 m/m pace for 2 miles but 4? Was 7:15 more realistic? 7:30?
In addition to mulling about the pace, I thought about where I'd run, what I'd wear, checked the weather... I even adjusted my dinner plan to make sure I didn't get derailed by digestive issues.
Morning came and I got up and ready, opened the blinds and ... what?! Snow?! Really?! That wasn't in the weather report. At least not the ones I looked at. I thought of changing and heading to the gym, but frankly, I was sick of the gym after running on the treadmill for a week because of that arctic vortex. So I headed out anyway.
But, as soon as I started running, reality hit. There were ice patches beneath the snow, and after a couple of near wipeouts, I called it quits, walked back to my car, and ditched the run for the day.
It seems to me that lately, the weather has been derailing my running and although I know I'm being completely irrational, I can't help this feeling that somehow I've brought this on, that I'm to blame. Where is that crazy thought coming from? If you read my previous post, in it, I talked about running outside despite the cold and all that winter stuff--it might have even sounded like bragging. And wouldn't you know it, as if to throw this all on my face, we get this blast of frigid air in which hypothermia can set in rather quickly and I'm not crazy enough to risk that, so there have been multiple days of indoor running, and now snow.
Of course I know it's not my fault. I mean... really, to think that any rambling of mine has any kind of influence on the weather... Plus, how scary would that be!
It's easy to see the ridiculousness of this kind of thought trajectory. And yet, I'm pretty sure there are many people out there who have followed such a train of thought. Everything's going great in your life, things couldn't be better, and you have the audacity to delight and relish such good fortune when bam! disaster hits and instead of recognizing that things happen, you blame yourself--if only you hadn't dared fate with that terrible thought of gratitude for all those blessings. Yes, stopping to appreciate how good you have it is bound to lead to disaster and all those grateful people are to blame.
Of course I'm making it sound crazy, but I know there are people who really think this way and can't help feeling they're to blame for things that are totally out of their control. I'm one of those people! It's not a rational thing, and I am aware of that. And yet, deep down, despite all logic, the feeling of blame, that somehow it's your fault, is quietly gnawing at you.
Jedi mind tricks, or the god complex as my spiritual director would put it. Yep, my thoughts have such power that they can bring on all sorts of things: cold weather, snow, injury, illness, just to name a few. Boy, no wonder I'm exhausted.
I only hope that one of these days, what I believe in my head and profess with my lips, will sink in to my gut too--that I'm just a little human being, and that God... well, is not me, and we can all be very grateful for that!
Sunday, December 22, 2013
A Little Crazy
Fourth Sunday of Advent
When I mention to people that I run outside through the winter in New England, most people tell me or look at as if I’m crazy. Certainly I run inside if its icy or slippery or snowing (although I have run with my Yaktrax when it was snowing), but, for the most part, I’ll do all I can to avoid the monotony of the treadmill. The way I see it, I have two choices, well maybe three: not run in the winter (not really an option), let the weather completely dictate and curtail my running, or, embrace and adjust to the weather by wearing proper attire and equipment.
And the thing is, with the right attire and equipment, running outside in the winter in New England is not as bad as people seem to think. Of course, you sometimes get surprisingly warm days like these last several days, but even if its bitterly cold, you warm up a lot and really quickly, you get some needed fresh air, get to enjoy the sunrise or other beautiful sights you otherwise wouldn’t be out enjoying, and, at least for me, it keeps the winter blues from turning me into a zero-energy blob. I think more people should try it!
Crazy indeed!
And maybe I am a little crazy. But then again, it seems to me that it takes a little craziness to be a Christian, since, when you really stop to think about the foundations of our faith, they can sound a little crazy. Take the Incarnation, which we are in the midst of celebrating: God becoming human. Think about that for a moment! And not just a human being, but being born into the most humble and challenging of circumstances. If God had consulted a committee of the smartest, most educated and savviest among us, I doubt this is the plan they would have proposed. I can imagine the questions: "but how are you going to get your message across to the world if you’re born into some backwater country?" "If you’re not going to be born into the kind of privilege that will give you a world mike, at least wait until a time of mass-communication." "And why this Virgin thing? Can’t you see the added danger? What if Joseph has her stoned (he could have you know)?"
Yes, when you stop to think about it, the Incarnation is a little crazy. Its not just the thought of God becoming a lowly human being, but of God placing such trust on people: on Mary to say yes, on Joseph to accept her and the child, on Jesus’ disciples and those who first heard the message to carry it forth, on the evangelists to write it down for future generations, on every ensuing generation to continue to embrace and proclaim this message. Such faith and trust in us! Us! Who can be so selfish, self-centered and clueless, so impatient and irritable towards others, so flawed and blind… How can God have such faith and trust in people like us?
I love Easter and the whole paschal journey from death to new life. But there is something uniquely moving about the Incarnation and the sense of hope and possibility the Christmas narrative communicates and inspires. God is placed in our weak hands to be cared for and nurtured; God’s message of unconditional love, faith and trust, is given to our insecure, wounded and sometimes distrustful hearts to proclaim with courage and passion to the world. I suppose the question is whether we have a little of that crazy in us, to say yes and do as God asks?
When I mention to people that I run outside through the winter in New England, most people tell me or look at as if I’m crazy. Certainly I run inside if its icy or slippery or snowing (although I have run with my Yaktrax when it was snowing), but, for the most part, I’ll do all I can to avoid the monotony of the treadmill. The way I see it, I have two choices, well maybe three: not run in the winter (not really an option), let the weather completely dictate and curtail my running, or, embrace and adjust to the weather by wearing proper attire and equipment.
And the thing is, with the right attire and equipment, running outside in the winter in New England is not as bad as people seem to think. Of course, you sometimes get surprisingly warm days like these last several days, but even if its bitterly cold, you warm up a lot and really quickly, you get some needed fresh air, get to enjoy the sunrise or other beautiful sights you otherwise wouldn’t be out enjoying, and, at least for me, it keeps the winter blues from turning me into a zero-energy blob. I think more people should try it!
Crazy indeed!
And maybe I am a little crazy. But then again, it seems to me that it takes a little craziness to be a Christian, since, when you really stop to think about the foundations of our faith, they can sound a little crazy. Take the Incarnation, which we are in the midst of celebrating: God becoming human. Think about that for a moment! And not just a human being, but being born into the most humble and challenging of circumstances. If God had consulted a committee of the smartest, most educated and savviest among us, I doubt this is the plan they would have proposed. I can imagine the questions: "but how are you going to get your message across to the world if you’re born into some backwater country?" "If you’re not going to be born into the kind of privilege that will give you a world mike, at least wait until a time of mass-communication." "And why this Virgin thing? Can’t you see the added danger? What if Joseph has her stoned (he could have you know)?"
Yes, when you stop to think about it, the Incarnation is a little crazy. Its not just the thought of God becoming a lowly human being, but of God placing such trust on people: on Mary to say yes, on Joseph to accept her and the child, on Jesus’ disciples and those who first heard the message to carry it forth, on the evangelists to write it down for future generations, on every ensuing generation to continue to embrace and proclaim this message. Such faith and trust in us! Us! Who can be so selfish, self-centered and clueless, so impatient and irritable towards others, so flawed and blind… How can God have such faith and trust in people like us?
I love Easter and the whole paschal journey from death to new life. But there is something uniquely moving about the Incarnation and the sense of hope and possibility the Christmas narrative communicates and inspires. God is placed in our weak hands to be cared for and nurtured; God’s message of unconditional love, faith and trust, is given to our insecure, wounded and sometimes distrustful hearts to proclaim with courage and passion to the world. I suppose the question is whether we have a little of that crazy in us, to say yes and do as God asks?
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