The World Through My Shoes is my look at living this incredible gift God has given us. As a busy wife, mother and daughter I relish the alone time I receive on my early morning runs. It is in the stillness of those predawn mornings where I often am inspired. Thank you for taking the time to read my words.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Pea Soup & Fog

The road is dark, it is cold.  The sun will be rising soon, but for now I am running in the quiet of night.  I am lost in the anonymity of the darkness and I am enjoying it.  No phones, no voices, no questions, no hammers, no saws.  Just me and the road.  My only responsibility lays in my next running step.

Life has been crazier than our normal.  Not only are our boys active in sports and school functions which keep us on our toes, we decided to update our home and we are doing it ourselves.  The last two months have been filled with new floors, new moulding, new trim and now the kitchen.  I am tired and look forward to the finished project.

Right now there is none of that, there is only me and the road.  I am grateful my hamstring is doing well and I am able to run again.  Thank you Jesus.  My mind wanders to the running year ahead and I contemplate on what to do. 

Last year was a very difficult year for me and one I have yet to shake.  My motivation still lacks and I am left wondering what my plan should be for this year.  My running friends  know exactly what their plans are, I do not.  This uncertainty has left me feeling as if I am swimming in pea soup and the fog just rolled in.  I have always had a plan, always.  Yet here I am and I can't get motivation enough to create one.

The Chicago Marathon opened this past week and I was one of the 30,000 fortunate ones to grab a spot before they closed the registration 3 hours later.  For the first time in a long, long time I felt a glimmer of a spark; something I had not felt since the Bellingham Bay Marathon.  It is the spark of hope.  Will I finally see my goal of a sub-4 hour marathon?  I can hope. 
Standing in church, we are clapping and singing along with the band.  I hear a voice say, "Congratulations on Chicago!".  I turn to see our pastor, and friend, standing there.  He had heard I had secured an entry and before making his way to the stage, he stopped to encourage me.  I tell him thank you.  He then tells me Chicago holds his second fastest marathon time and talks of how great the course is.  We talk for a minute or two and I listen to his advice.  I can't help but think this spontaneous conversation is God's way of saying, "Plan and work hard."  Hope is extremely powerful.
My hands curl inside my gloves.  The briskness of the air colder as the sun starts to say hello.  The black of night is beginning to give way and I see blues and greens emerging behind Mount Baker.  The mountain range now outlined in the horizon.  I stare in silence at it's beauty, my breathing the only sound I hear. 

I still don't have a plan, but I have a direction as Chicago stands in the future.  I am ready to climb out of this pea soup and stand on the shores of hope.