Third Time Has More Charm

With the Physical Therapists approval, I ran outdoors yesterday. It was the first time since April 4th, three months.

I was given approval to run in the one mile event in Derby. Just two teensy years ago this was my first race. Then, I quivered at the distance. Yesterday I wanted to pout about the distance. Not because I was afraid I couldn't make it, but because I couldn't stand only going one mile.

After much debate I decided to run alone instead of trotting with Judah.

Judah had the support of his Mr. Randy and I felt it was time to see what sort of condition my sea legs were in.

As the gun popped, I was just trying to get on the overcrowded path. I ran on the grass for quite a while until room was available on the park sidewalk.

I felt fine, good even. I was wishing I had not started at the back of the pack, simply because so much effort was put towards passing the fun runners, and I wanted to really focus on a nice little run.

I looked back and saw my little man clip clopping along and was glad to know he wasn't crying. I headed for the small hill and began to get discouraged. My breathing was more labored than I had hoped and there was a small burning going on in my lungs. I was fearful I had lost all the fitness I had worked so hard for. But never the less I was glad that there was no pain flaring up in my ramus and all the piercing sharpness had appeared to be gone.

I headed down hill for home and watched those I had just passed sprint right past me, urg!

I got to the line and saw it say 6:55. Within a few seconds I had crossed and was pleased to know that those speeds were causing the burn and maybe I wasn't so far from where I used to be.

I walked to the end and was so surprised to be handed a medal for my finish. I laughed as I walked back to Kenton. He gave me a cautionary look almost as to say, "Should you have ran that hard?" (The same look and remark my parents and friends gave me as well.)

We stood along the side and watch my Mom finish and she joined us as we awaited Judah's big finish.

Soon enough his little head appeared over the hill and he rushed it in along side my Dad. He makes me so proud.

It's been two years since my Dad prodded me to sign up for this race. Yesterday was the third anniversary. It was a little different of course. My Dad ran alone in the four mile. I was restricted to the one mile. We were no longer strangers in the crowd of runners. We knew so many people. My Mom ran for a second year. Judah made his glorious summer debut.

Two years ago I knew life would change, but I never saw this coming. Some good, some bad, some horrible, and some things have been so wonderful only the flutters in my heart and the swells in my spirit can tell the whole story.

As the run was brief, I didn't have much time to enter in to, "the zone." But even as I did drift off to the music and find that quiet place that I love so much. I knew this was where I belonged. I was in the place where the world goes away, where I'm alone with my God. The place where I can finally hear truth because all the lies can't keep up. In that place I can feel the tender nudge of a loving father. I can hear him remind me that he loves me, that he thinks I'm beautiful, that he is proud of me, and that he misses me. I can begin to see pictures of what he wants for me or what he needs me to do, and of what he wants me to stop doing. In those few fleeting moments, I am reminded that I belong to the God of the entire universe and that even still, in His vastness, He is so very concerned with insignificant me.

Everyone needs to have a way to get to that place. I just pray that I can go there more often.