Yesterday's Run

The campers had just left and the camp was quiet again. We all shifted over to the lodge for staff meeting and worship, our bodies starting to shut down after a week of excitement and constant motion. We sat and listened to some music, periodically singing along and relaxing from the week. One of the pastors brought us root beer floats, which we happily took in. After that we had our meeting and we dispersed for the weekend. Being already close to normal supper time, I hastily put on my running clothes and prepared to go run. I brought my iPod with me because with all the traffic leaving camp, I preferred not to listen to all the cars driving around on the gravel roads. I started jogging down the road.

The sky was overcast as it had seemed to be all week. A cool, humid breeze was coming off the lake, forcing me to remove my shirt since I was sweating hard within the first mile. A half mile into my run I already knew this was not going to be a fun by any means. Going into the second mile I started climbing up a steady 3/4 mile hill into the wind, and my stomach was starting to do backflips; this was going to be bad.

Mentally I started struggling. Should I turn around and head back? Am I really going to finish 9 miles? Where should I turn around? Where are the trees for me to stop at if I need to? After all, this is central/western North Dakota and groves of trees are few. I prepared conversations that I would start to a passing driver if the shirtless sweaty runner needed a ride back. In addition, my legs were sore from my first tempo run of the summer the day before, a beautiful day where all the pieces fell together perfectly. I should have expected today's struggle.

Last year I probably would have turned around at some point, but this year I wrote out my running schedule day-by-day for the summer and so I continued telling myself 'you need to run 9 miles- you can finish this'. People were driving past me on the gravel road, waving at me and likely unaware of my struggles.

One of the great things about running out in the country is that it comes down to you and the road. There are no places with lights to make you stop. There are no public restrooms. There are no convenient trails to slip into or people to run with. You either need to tough it out or give up. I prayed for strength to get back safely.

During the second half of the run my legs were beginning to loosen up, but my stomach was getting more and more agitated. Being able to only handle small amounts of dairy, I quickly began to chastise myself for having two cups of ice cream before I went out on this particular run, as it sure wasn't helping anything. A couple times I had to stop and walk in order to let my stomach sort out its problems before I continued. All was quiet, the wind continued to blow, and the hills didn't go anywhere.

With about a mile and half remaining, I peaked over a hill and could see camp for the first time in a while. It dawned on me that I was actually going to make it back. My body was starting to feel better and I relaxed a little. I coasted back into the camp to the ever-so-familiar gravel parking lot and removed my headphones. It was quiet. Everybody had left. There was a couple fishing in a boat not too far offshore. I went and did some tough hill strides (legs still tired), and I called it a day. It took about 3 hours for my stomach to settle down, but that's how it goes. We need some 'crappy' days to help us appreciate the good days. For every sunset, we are promised a sunrise. For every winter, we are promised a spring. For every failure, we are promised forgiveness. Praise the Lord for the bad days, because how could we enjoy the good days without them?

Have a Great Day!