Time to Run Again

Went on a run this morning.  I decided I needed to go running again as a spiritual discipline exactly one week ago at the Baylight retreat, talked about it here and there throughout the week, but was still at the “Yeah, I think this would be good for me, but haha, when am I ever going to find the time?” denial / laziness stage last night as I talked about it once again with the guys.  Thanks for the timely word before I left for the night.  “Hey Kenneth, I have a suggestion for you.  Go running THIS weekend.”  Thanks, Mike.  I had a hard time getting to something simple and tangible.

This morning was hard too.  Oh, how I was plagued by wussy thoughts that threatened to send me back to bed.  “Ack, my nose is stuffy and runny.”  “Should I drink something now, to be well-hydrated, but risk drinking too much and having it slosh around in my stomach the whole time?  I hate that!”  “Ack, why is my nose still running?”  “Oh no, my ratty old sneakers are probably still full of sand.”  “Where should I leave the rest of my keys so I don’t have to carry them?”  “Where am I running exactly?”  “What time should I finish?  How exactly am I going to know the time if I don’t carry my phone?”  “ACK!  Why is my nose still running?!”  Spiritual warfare at its finest.  Anyway, I finally got myself out of the door, which was probably 50-75% of this battle already.

So I ran this morning.  And God provided the rest.

+ I generally hate running by myself.  It always seemed so lonely.  Well, I guess that’s hard for me to say with much authority, because I think I’ve only “gone running” once or twice by myself, EVER.  So maybe the idea of running by myself is what seems so lonely.  Anyway, I’ve used that as a primary excuse for probably the past 6 years of non-running.  But right from the beginning of my run in the early morning, it dawned on me that there were in fact people around me — fellow runners, workers picking up the trash, old couples walking hand in hand, masters walking their dogs…  And the thought came to me: “Lord, I don’t know him/her/them.  But you do.  Bless them as only you can. And may I treat them as one of your own.”  Something happened to me just then.   This sounds kind of clichéd, but it affected my mindset for the rest of my time, kind of as if God had told me, “Kenneth, I need you to look out for some very important people that I want you to meet.”  It became much easier to look at people in the eye and smile and say hi, knowing that was one of His own.  Some of them smiled back.  Oh, man, I sound so socially awkward.  But that’s okay.  I don’t know them, but the Father does.  May He bless them.  And help me to treat them as His own.

+ I discovered the Emeryville fishing pier.  I thought we’d walked up and down our street before, but I guess we missed this trail in the past.  Steph and I have walked along the Berkeley fishing pier at the Marina maybe a half dozen times, including the time while we were dating when we walked all the way to the very end of the very long pier and I thought we were walking all the way out there because she wanted me to kiss her.  (I was wrong.)  But here we had our own fishing pier, just outside of our apartment.  Thanks!   It was peacefully empty and quiet at this time of the day.   I’ll have to bring Steph here some time.

+ As I run and grow weary (which doesn’t take long), I find the strength to persevere through phrases that are brought to mind.  Today, I recited some phrases from the opening of Proverbs.  “…for acquiring a disciplined and prudent life, doing what is right and just and fair…”  “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, but fools despise wisdom and discipline…”  When I used to run with my college friends, I got into this habit of vocalizing short phrases that reminded me of the truth while running.  It gave me something to focus on beside how insufferably painful the exercise was (the restless thought which was my demise in cross-country during high school).  Often the phrases would develop a mantra-like quality as they began to integrate into my breathing patterns, and the time gave me opportunity to really settle on each word and its significance:  “The LORD is my strength… the Lord is my STRENGTH… the Lord is MY strength … the Lord IS my strength… ” (hmm, the last one holds truth too, but it’s starting to sound like a Bob Sagat impression.)

+ At some point during my run today, the phrase on my lips was, “My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them.”  As I repeated the warning/encouragement again and again out loud, I felt the beginnings of some hot tears welling up in my eyes.  “My son, if sinners entice you, do not give in to them.”  I’m not really prepared to try to explain why I had such a reaction this morning, but I mention it because, you see, this kind of thing rarely happens to me when I’m just reading passively my Bible in the car or futon or whatever.   But there’s just something about running, and already trying hard to regulate my breathing, praying that God keeps the cramps at bay, fighting the temptation to just quit running at any moment, using all of my willpower to urge my body toward the next lamp post ahead, and then the next trash can ahead, and then the next patch of grass ahead, and feeling totally inadequate to accomplish this journey on my own, that truly compels me to look to the Lord and confess that I desperately need Him.

+ On my way back, I witnessed something awesome.  As the sun broke free from the dull gray clouds, I saw the rocky shore scored with hundreds upon hundreds of sandpipers.  As birds do, they all faced the same way, gazing steadfastly out into the Bay.  They stood there in dignified silence and their numbers were marvelous and vast, stretching as far as the eye can see, like a proud army standing on guard to protect their beloved beach.  They probably stand in such formation diligently, by their nature, every morning.  But I’ve never been close enough to the shore at such a time of day to witness it.  Thanks.

+ When I get near the end of a run, I like to sprint.  It’s the “This is it.  This is the last part.  Give it everything you’ve got.  Time to go all out.  The Lord is my strength” part.  (Yeah, I know, my self-referential pronouns get all confused when I run.)  And so I spot my end point, and I sprint with everything I’ve got left.  Which is sometimes a lot, surprisingly.  In the past, this was the part where my friends and I would sprint it together in fierce but one-spirited competition.  I miss that.  Today was a little tougher.  I started sprinting, but was again plagued with wussy thoughts.  “Oh man, I’m tired.”  “Don’t push it too hard… it’s been a while since I’ve run.”  “I think we’re done, right?”  “Oh yeah, whoops, we wanted to get to that farther trash can, right?”  So I stumbled a bit in my final sprint today, hesitating instead of giving it my all.  Kind of disappointing.  (And yes, I know, my pronouns are all wacky.)

+ As I cooled down with a brisk walk, I noticed again the familiar pinwheels of spinning light that I always see in front of my eyes after a strenuous run and I’m struggling to catch my breath.   I’ve never really figured out what they are physiologically, but it’s closest thing I can relate to the idiom, “seeing stars.”  Come to think of it, I guess I used to see it also in jujitsu after a tiring round of sparring or when I got thrown into the mat headfirst.

+ I continued to walk while seeing stars and trying to regulate my breathing, and I read these phrases out loud from the little piece of paper that I had clutched in my hand the entire time: “… and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure…”  For some reason I hadn’t seem to bother writing the down the whole phrase.  I have to assume that it’s a promise that if I continue to search deeply and diligently, I will find.  =]

+ The final blessing I experienced this morning was on my way back to the apartment.  About 50 yards ahead of me, I recognized a familiar looking tan-colored t-shirt followed by a navy blue sweatshirt.  I had crossed paths with this young couple during my run.  I remember they smiled and said hi back when we had encountered each other.   What a cool surprise to discover that they are my neighbors.  I was a bit too far back to catch up to them before they disappeared into the lobby, but I trust God will enable us to cross paths again.  I feel sure of it.  Who knows, maybe I just found the running buddies I’ve been praying for…

Hmm, not one of my regular kinds of posts, huh?  =]

When do you feel closest to God?