Me, the Sermon, or Running Despite My Self

Strange things happen to me when I run.  I've been shot with a pellet gun, hit on by fourteen year olds, and chased by dogs.  All in the last month.  I consider the stuff that happens while I run to be a spiritual gift.  Because it's different from "the norm".

You should know that I hate running.  It's difficult and makes me feel unpleasant.  And right now it's cold.  Often, I'll get to my front door in my shorts and just think about running for a while.  Because really there are lots of reasons why I shouldn't run.  One of my favorite excuses is school work, which, if you didn't know, is best complimented by a sleeve of Oreos.

If my rationalizations fail, I hit the streets.  The first thing I notice is the awkwardness of my shadow.  "I look like that?"  Yes.  I look stupid.  It's okay though, as I conclude that everyone looks stupid when they run.  Next come the cramps.  First in my left shoulder, then in my stomach if I had eaten in the last four hours.  I shake those off and then it's my legs burning.  Before I can think about how bad I feel, I become acutely aware of my breath and wonder why it's so heavy at this point in the run.  This is about the time I realize that I've only been running for five minutes.

One of the best things about running on a foggy day is that you never know what's coming.  This is especially true when you hear a woman's voice singing in German that is slowly growing louder.  It's even truer when you realize that the woman in question is sitting in a cart being pulled by a miniature pony.  When it's foggy, I'm not thinking of how I'm feeling; Im excited and anticipated.  Because something's coming.

Miniature ponies in the fog, the pellet the hits you in the back as you see the blue SUV drive away, and the dogs that seem to hate accelerated moving are all important to me.  Because the thing I'm most concerned with when I'm running is me.  When I turn the corner only to find that a frisbee is coming straight toward my face, it puts me back in the fog.  I'm excited and anticipated.  At that point, my world is more than just me.