© Ugur Akinci
Yesterday evening was burning hot. The mercury hovered around 95F. Back from work, I really felt compelled to strap on my new pair of New Balances (a beaut!) and hit the pavement, with my son by my side.
My son is a great runner; has run a semi-marathon. But what's more important -- he enjoys running just like I do. The sheer infantile direct pleasure of running... We both share that.
But after a mile he said "dad, do you mind...?" And I knew what he meant.
He is a much faster runner than I am. So I knew that him jogging along next to me was a courtesy gesture more than anything else.
Despite the weather I knew he was itching to gun ahead and do a nice fast stretch. So I said "of course" and he was gone in a flash like a gazelle.
And there I was, comfortably alone again in my slow wonderful pace.
Since the weather felt like someone left the door of the Blast Furnace in the Sky open, I settled down to a 14-min a mile shuffle. At this age I know when to take it easy and not to force the issue.
About an hour later I was back at home, thoroughly drenched in sweat. Panting like a work horse. As I was unlacing my shoes, unmistakable feelings washed over me like a prayer...
REVERENCE and GRATITUDE...
I felt grateful that I could still run. Nothing to be taken for granted for sure.
And I felt this reverence for the unity of the weather, the elements and the temperature, my place in it, the whole wonder of perspiration, oxygen, the feeling of MELTING into the heat like a slice of cheese, disappearing altogether, yet also moving along and making my peace with it.
Surviving with a smile...
A complex feeling, really... hard to explain. But again, as I've felt so many times in the past, I felt like, after all is said and done, that's where I belonged -- the streets, the up and down hills, under the open sky, my endless forgiving sky, the parks, the pathways, in my shoes and shorts, bellowing in and out and still surprised that these old legs could take me so far.
Reverence for being alive. Reverence for the far-greater-than-me presence of nature. She's my Great Mama.
Gratitude for the chance to run one more time during this short stop-over on planet earth... for just being plain lucky.
Amen.
