Running Again

I started running again. In my training, I change the route almost every run, but in my long-distance runs I am always required to run over the place where I fell. I don’t need a reminder. The scars on my knees are reminders enough, yet the route reminds me again.

“See the lip in the sidewalk? That’s where you fell. That was where you stopped running for two months and started dealing with what would be your housing crisis. Remember that?”

June and July 2019 were one for the books. I know I already wrote about it, but as I have begun running again I have realized, sometimes the best thing one can do is just that: start again. I’m sure there will be posts in the future where I discuss in more detail my disappointment with God and his letting me fall, but for now, I’m grateful He is allowing me to get up and run again. I was a little over the half-way point in my long-distance training when I fell.

My big goal this year was to run a marathon and with wounds on my knees and hands, and the stress at home, I figured it just wasn’t going to happen. When I decided I would start training again, I counted the weeks to see where the training fell in proportion to when the marathon race is. The training fell perfectly within the allotted time: 18 weeks of training, with the race in 19 weeks.

I’m still not sure why I fell, or why we had to leave our home of 4 and 1/2 years, but this I know: I am training again and we have a new home where new memories will be made (maybe even the birth of a second child). In the words of one of my favorite musicals, “all that seemed wrong is now right.” We’re okay. We’re running again.

“So it's
Into the woods
You go again,
You have to
Every now and then.
Into the woods,
No telling when,
Be ready for the journey.”