That is just about the only rule of this writing exercise sponsored by Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary. I adore Heather’s blog. Her honesty, open mindedness, and willingness to share her life, her struggles, her fears, her joys, and her view of the world. Her blog was an integral part of my being able to admit to myself things that I longed to shut the door on. She planted the seed. It just took me a little while to catch up. She truly is “extraordinary” and I will forever cherish her.
For a more detailed explanation of this exercise please visit here.
And so I run.
I was born a sensitive soul into the chaos of the world around me. I felt things deeply, cried easily, and so I run...into hiding when comfort could not be found. There I bury the pain.
As I grew older the sense of being not quite like others began to take hold. Everyone knows, being different is a big NO-NO as a teen amongst one’s peers. And so I run...towards those things that helped me forget myself, to feel good, and to feel a sense of belonging to the “crowd” that I so wanted to be a part of.
Graduation came. Chaos turned to crisis at the death of my younger brother. I couldn’t cope. I couldn’t stay home. And so I run...on a spur of the moment, poorly thought out decision to attend a different college that would take me to the big city.
These were the dark days. I got pretty good at being what others wanted me to be but at the expense of being true to my self. Those caged emotions, memories, heartaches, and hurts began rattling within their confines. And so I run...at the 1st opportunity to remove myself, geographically, from what I assumed was the cause of my misery.
Ten years ago I began running. Literally. It was an on-again, off-again love affair. I reveled in the accolades that I received when I began to place in the races I ran. My ego and my pride grew. But there came a time, just a little over a year ago that I stopped running. Both figuratively and literally. I took those keys to the holding cell of all the pain and turmoil of my past and summoned the courage to turn the lock. So there I stood...fearlessly facing come what may (well, to be perfectly honest, there was tremendous, deeply rooted fear. I had no choice but to turn it over to God and be willing to receive His help).
It has been a wild, crazy, rollercoaster of a year but I wouldn’t change a thing. My running became metaphorical. And so I run...towards the freedom from self, selfish will, and towards service to others. And so I run...grabbing that hope, those promises, and the miracles that are coming true each and every day.
A couple of months ago, I put back on my jogging shoes and began to run physically, as well, after my self imposed hiatus. Some old behaviors began to insert themselves…I had to get faster, if I don’t how will I ever place in the upcoming race events I am attending. But God has a unique sense of humor. Because I was going after this for all the WRONG reasons (pride, ego, accolades) he decided to sideline me with a minor injury. I can still run, but now realize that I must do so with a different purpose: spiritual and physical health. I am using my runs as a private meditation time with my God. I am discovering that speed isn’t important anymore. It’s the journey, not the destination, that counts. And so I shall continue to run...to build the endurance necessary to travel God’s chosen path.
And so I run.