Running the Race 

The seasons are changing, and my comfy clothes are coming to the front of the closet. 

 

I start to see lights shimmering in windows as I drive along the streets on my way home each night.

Is it that time already?

 

It seems to be the case, so I will be running the race set before me as the days get dark earlier each day.  

 

Running the race for me has changed with the seasons, along with years passing before my eyes. 

 

Let’s go down the types of races together, shall we? 

 

First is when I ran as a kid with bare feet and shoes that flopped open. 

Freedom at every turn.

 

Carefree moments that included jumping in rain puddles and hopping over every crack in the sidewalk. 

 

The pavement would get hot, so the water hose then came out to cool everything off in the blink of an eye.

 

Running the race with friends then finding a pace around a track to get a 12-minute mile done was the name of the game for years! 

 

After decades of running, I felt I was not a runner anymore. 

 

It was then that I relearned how to feel the wind in my hair, and it was not as my feet hit the pavement. 

 

It was swinging high and climbing trails up mountains to a mirror glassed lake. Jumping rope and jumping on trampolines. 

 

As I say these words out loud, I can feel myself shimmer like the lights I see in the windows on my drive home from work. 

Carefree moment for me had always come from running.

And yet, carefree moments for me had always come from running and then they stopped after those decades. 

 

I have been waiting for them to start again. 

 

Being mindful of the time spent in between. 

 

Somehow my mind has become full and not aware of what I was needing to pay attention to at all times. 

 

My friends. What happened? 

 

A few things changed like the time of year we are in right now. 

 

I have been in this space and have found these things. 

 

Actually, I found these things again. 

 

Isn’t that the beauty of being here? That we can come back to ourselves again. 

 

Let’s begin with what I found. 

I learned when I ran on big hills.

First, is the thing that I learned when I ran on big hills. 

 

Those times when I had planned for what was coming and then continually became surprised when the hill was different from the map, or my legs remembered. 

 

It is the darndest thing every single time. 

Even as it became one parent’s story, my story, I was surprised by it. 

 

You see, I love to run in the hills. 

 

What goes up gets to come down. The muscles that are broken on the uphill side get to relax on the downhill descent. 

I even got a tshirt that shows I ran the beloved mountain. Did you know that with enough of these race shirts you can make a quilt?  Fantastic!

 

There are so many points of interest when I float down a mountain. 

 

There have been times that I pause along the way to take pictures, take a drink and eat a snack. 

 

That sounds nice and calm, now, doesn’t it? 

It wasn’t always that way.

 

Here’s a bit of truth. 

Running the race comes with rocks.

Running the race comes with rocks, dips in the trail and finding new muscles.

 

There are times when my body and mind would go into their own game and then the race is all up in the air. 

The uphill jaunt becomes a trudge, and the downhill float feels like the brakes are on and my knees are on fire the entire descent. 

 

This is when I pull out my bandages to care for the blisters and wounds. 

 

Take care of what scrapes and turbulence is present and look for who may have fallen beside me. 

 

I am usually not alone in my tumbles. Running the race for me is often about coming along with at least one more.

 

Perhaps it is like life in general. 

You can prepare for what you think is going to come next and then you get two or twenty unexpected pieces to juggle alongside the day. 

 

What do you do? 

 

For me sometimes I take a walking break, drink some water and look up at what the view holds for me at that moment. 

 

Other times I receive a reminder of laughter in a video text, invitations to be around others, and gentle nudges to hang onto the memory of running. 

 

There are shimmering brightnesses that I hold dear, bring me to my feet and pull me forward. 

 

These are all the times of trudging, floating, tumbling and yes, even looking up with unexpected pieces. 

 

I do love running the race. 

 

There is much to see. I’d love to do it with you, my friends! 

I’ll see you along the way.