Running is heavenly.
I resonate with that truth as I prepare for my 50k (31-mile) race tomorrow.
Everyone asks me why am I doing this race and my partner regularly tells me that I am crazy, but there is something about distance running that invites me to see that there is more to me, others and the world. I find the process of racing like a giant trust fall: I am attempting something that feels impossible and as I do so, I open to the beauty and generosity of the woods, those who cheer, the volunteers at the food stations, the race coordinator, and those who struggle alongside me.
At my trail races, when someone passes, they wish others the best on their journey. As I trained, I ran up mountains and, as I tired, I thought of all of you climbing figurative mountains in your lives; I prayed for all of us. My distance running is a prayer of trust, endurance, companionship and hope that we each might reach the finish line for which we long. As I run, I discover something else, something deeper, long after my own abilities have dwindled. It keeps me pressing onward.
I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but here’s to the journey: yours and mine and everyone’s. I celebrate and commend it, with love.