I start out by telling you, I am not fond of running. Ha ha ha right? I have to run to be in a triathlon. Well, the joke's on me cause I really don't like to run. My daughter is 12 and training for a marathon of her own valition. She loves to run and is running a half marathon in October. She says that it gets easier and more fun, the more you do it. Of this I am very doubtful.
The longest I have ever run in my life was about 3 miles and that was the day before yesterday because a 5K was the CrossFit workout of the day (WOD). Turns out due to some pedometer calibration problems we only ran about 3 miles. I ran the whole thing. Ugh.
Today we went to Jailbreak training (it is training to prepare for the Jailbreak Adventure Race in September www.runthejailbreak.com). I decided to join the bootcamp group mostly because I have been doing CrossFit for about 8 weeks now and it has affected my brain. Dear hubby and Daughter ran with the intermediate group. After 30 minutes of ridiculous (by that I mean super hard) calisthenics, we ran about 2 miles. Oh, and it wasn't just regular running. No that would be too easy. We did Indian Sprints. For those of you unfamiliar with exercise torture, Indian sprints work like this: the person at the back of the line (me) sprints to the front of the line. Then the next person at the back of the line sprints to the front of the line. Then you do that the whole way.
I was able to do it once, then I almost died. On the way back, a few of us were straggling behind barely alive and the instructor encouraged the rest of the group of in shape people to run back and help encourage us so we could finish together. I was plodding along and then a guy in his 20's in pretty good shape wearing a cut-off black t-shirt with a guitar on it fell in along side me. He didn't look at me or even say a word. He just matched my pace and then we were running in step. Our feet hit the pavement at exactly the same time, beating out a powerful rhythm. I felt energized and pushed it a little faster and he kept step with me for about 1/4 mile. He didn't ever say anything. He didn't need to. What happened was to amazing and completely spiritual event between two people. A stranger, came along side me and kept step with me during the hardest part of my run and with that honest simple support, I was renewed and encouraged. When we reached the end of the run, he dropped away and we never spoke. I wanted to thank him, but felt that somehow speaking would have ruined it. It was a simple thing he did, but it changed my whole day.
In that small silent action, the power of empathy and encouragement was transmitted in such an intense way. I am struggling to find the right words to explain the moment. But somehow, I felt connected not just to a stranger but to everyone and everything. You are probably thinking I am nuts. Maybe the running and CrossFit have finally caused permanent damage. But somehow there was perfection in that moment of human compassion and I saw God.
So I guess running can be more than physical torture. It can be spiritual too.
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