An Evening Run

Looking healthy! Titanium micro-plates and all.

Before I get into my brief story of an evening run, let me update you on a couple things. Most importantly, Liam's condition. He is doing fantastic! If it weren't for the better, more symmetrical appearance of his eyes, you'd never know he went through neurosurgery just three and a half months ago! He finished the school year with great grades, and is going to head into ninth grade in great physical shape.

He has been working out a lot, staying really fit, building muscle. He runs several times a week (stronger and faster than anyone else in the family), bikes with me on some epic rides, and is lifting weights and doing lots of pull-ups. He still has to be very careful to avoid impact, so he takes it easy at Church activities and stuff where other teenagers are bouncing off each other (basketball, football, volleyball, ultimate Frisbee, etc).

The blessings to him and our family have been incredible! Thanks to so many who prayed and fasted so much for us, came to help, visited, wrote, called, and so on. I honestly believe I felt every little thought or prayer sent our way!

On another note, I've resolved to write a bit more often, and to write shorter posts. (I think we can all agree those are both good things!) Too often I try to write long stories, or find just the right photos... and then another month goes by without me getting anything posted. I decided to just throw it all out there in shorter bursts, and to clean it up a bit later. So expect to hear a bit more frequently from me! Now, on with a brief recap of a run a couple nights ago...

Annelise, Corrinne and me; evening ritual run

I’ve been running more lately. A handful of times per week, one to three miles at a time—not so bad for a chubby old dude. What has really been nice is that some of my kids are always with me, for every run, and it’s a blast to exercise together!

We drive to a park featuring a trail that runs three miles end-to-end, mostly along a lake, partly along a couple ponds, with a creek connecting it all. We typically go at night, as dusk sets in. Ethan and Liam are always off in a blur, and after a half-minute, the girls and I don’t see them until the end of the run. Annelise, Corrinne and I trade off the lead and run in a steady pace together, pushing, encouraging, and occasionally slowing for each other. The trail is marked every quarter mile, and is beautifully lined with grass, bushes and trees. We’ve seen deer, snakes, and coincidentally, tortoises and hares (or at least turtles and rabbits). It’s great to sweat, talk, and gasp together.

Last night was different. We had dinner a bit late, and at our usual run time, we were generally feeling like doing anything but run. Liam, however talked me into going, so he and I hopped in the car and headed to the trail, full bellies and all. At the park, as I still stretched, Liam took off in his typical bolt, leaving me on my own. I watched him disappear around the first bend in the trail, a hundred yards downstream.

 

Liam and me, post-bike ride

I picked up speed, music pounding in my earbuds while my size 13 Hoka One One’s thudded on the trail. It felt awesome to be on my own; going as fast as I wanted, not having to worry about how a daughter might be doing behind me, not having to make sure everyone was together, not having to position myself in the trail to accommodate a couple other runners, ensuring our elbows and feet didn’t entangle.

I could go at my own pace! No one to ask me to slow down or speed up. No one to distract me. No having to keep one earbud out so I could hear for anyone calling out. Nothing to get in the way of a great run.

I pushed hard, making great—no, make that record—time, a PR for a mile and a half. I was flying! But at mile 1.5 something strange happened… I just stopped. I literally went, in maybe a second or two, from 100 to zero. One moment I was telling myself how I was gonna crush the next half mile and finish mile two and beyond in record time. Telling myself what an awesome week it had been—I had ridden a challenging bike ride the day before, up a couple tough hills without stopping. Hills that previously made me pull over and rest for a moment.

Liam, Annelise, Corrinne and me post-bike ride

An instant after having those thoughts—no, actually as I had those thoughts—I crashed into reality, and it stopped me cold. This blazing two miles was nowhere near as fun or as satisfying as even an easy, shuffling mile with my girls would have been. With Liam way out in front of me, and no one at my side, the victory was hollow, and for a moment I felt completely alone. Actually, to be clearer, I felt for a second how alone I was, and how sad the realization made me. After at least thirty or forty consecutive evening runs with the girls, I was now on the darkening, twisty trail all alone.

I began walking, thinking and reflecting. Realizing how blessed I am to have the companionship of a wonderful family. How sorry I was that for about eight or nine minutes I had taken the family for granted. Then realizing the other ways I take them for granted, especially Darcie, and certainly for more than 8 or 9 minutes every several months.

I thought for a moment how so many in this world are going through life, or at least a part of their life, seemingly alone, or at least believing they are. I had a conversation with myself, and a bit with God, about how ungrateful I often am, or perhaps how forgetful I am, and resolved to do better, and to be more welcoming of my companions in all areas of my life, and to be a better running companion to all—figuratively and literally.

 

From a run awhile back (still had the beard!)

As quickly as the feelings of emptiness had come, they were replaced instantly with an equal measure of resolve, gratitude, and determination. To try a little harder to think of others’ situations. To be mindful that they might be going through things I don’t know about, or can’t even fathom. To not take for granted—even for a second—those I love most, and who love me.

Isn’t it interesting what you can learn, with no one talking, no lesson plan, no materials, no books, just a few moments for introspection and inspiration?

***

Tonight, a day later, I shared the theme of this blog post with Annelise and Corrinne before our run, and an hour later, they crushed me on the trail. Another lesson learned—maybe it’s more often them pulling me than me pulling them.