run. pray. - I Surrender
A run post is long overdue. I've been running, but I haven't been moved to write about it for awhile. But, today, I really need to share my run with you.
It has been eight days since my last run. The past week has been rough on me. My energy level met extinction. My body attacked itself and by Friday evening I was sick. Another sinus infection attacked, so I missed my long run on Saturday, and I couldn't muster the energy to run on Sunday. Luckily, today I have the day off. So, I ran. After all, I have a half marathon coming up on Saturday and need to get some miles in.
I decided to drive out to Furman University and take the Swamp Rabbit Trail up to Traveler's Rest and back. That route would give me the 8 miles I needed. However, I told myself it would be ok if I had to turn around early if I started feeling bad. Also, I told myself not to look at the time on the watch and just let the music carry me through my run. Relax. Release. Let go. Run.
After my lunge matrix and stretches, I took off. Just me and my music. This is the first long run I've done solo in awhile. I found myself having a hard to time relaxing, releasing, and letting go. But, I pushed through and kept telling myself, "Relax. Release. Let go. Just feel the music and run." A mile or so in I noticed my steps coincide with the rhythm of the music. I started getting into my groove. As the music picked up my speed picked up. As the music slowed down my speed slowed down. I was running for me. Relax. Release. Let go. Run.
Around mile three, I looked to the left and noticed an iron cross and an older man sitting on the bench in front of it. He was just resting looking up at it's rustic beauty. It has been at least a month since I've ran this route, and I've never noticed the cross before. So, it must be new. As I looked at this cross and the man sitting there it was like my run went into slow motion. My mind was clear. My mind was telling me I needed to stop at this cross on the way back. I needed to take a picture of this cross. The cross was beckoning me.
The run continued. I reached Traveler's Rest searching for a working water fountain. I never found one, so I stopped at William's Hardware and drank some water from the bathroom faucet. I don't recommend it, but it was needed. The run continued. At this point, I was headed back to Furman. I noticed my body starting to feel heavy again. Relax. Release. Just run. Relax. Release. Just run. Then, a song started playing.
Robert Randolph & the Family Band was live in my ears. Robert Randolph was telling the crowd to move their feet and let loose, and if they didn't feel like letting loose to go outside and kiss their man - don't stand in the way of the people who want to let loose. So, the band played, and he sang, "I don't know what you come to do - I don't know what you come to do - I don't know what you come to do - but I'm here to stomp my feet - let me see ya stomp your feet..." The steel guitar was going wild. The music was fast. The voice was intense. I found myself running faster. I found myself asking, "What did you come here to do?" If you don't know Robert Randolph & the Family Band, you wouldn't know they like to JAM. This song is over seven minutes long, and they jam the entire time. So, for seven minutes this song carried me through the heaviness. It carried me right back to the cross that beckoned me at mile three. Relax. Release. Just run.
I paused my watch. Walked up to the cross. Took a picture. Sat down on the bench, and I started talking to God. At first, I was fumbling over my words. I didn't know where to start or what to say. All I knew is I needed to talk. For awhile now I've lost my lust for life. I've convinced myself that I'm ok, when the reality is I've been trying to hide from myself. I've been depressed. I've allowed stress to flood to my body. I've allowed anxiety about my current state of health drag my mind into a pit of fire. I've allowed the negativity of the world to encapsulate my being. I've become toxic. I've become a weight on the shoulders of those I care about and love the most. I've become an actress in my own life. It has been a wearisome time.
I asked God for courage. I asked Him for strength. I told Him I need to learn to let go. I told Him I need to learn to quiet my mind, so I could hear Him. So, I could hear Him clearly. So, I could follow His path for me. And, as tears started trickling down my sweaty face, I found the words I needed to say to him. I surrender.
Those two words, I surrender, invigorated my spirit. So, I said them a few more times. I wiped away my tears. I smiled. I put my headphones back into my ears. I stepped onto that trail, started my watch, and took off. Immediately, I was lighter. At the cross, I stopped my watch at mile 6. When I got home and looked at my splits, mile 6 to 7 was the fastest mile of my run. In that mile, from the point I surrendered until the point I felt I was going to regurgitate all those toxins, I let Him carry me.
The next song I remember clearly emitted these lyrics:
We're gonna have a good day
And ain't nobody gotta cry today
'Cause ain't nobody gonna die today
Save that drama for another day
Heyyy we're gonna have a good day
Thank you, Nappy Roots. Today, I'm gonna have a good day. Relax. Release. Just run.
My God served me today. He graced me when I haven't shown Him grace. Today, I answered His beckoning at that cross, and though I had failed Him, He did not fail me.
Stop and listen to your God - whichever God or Divine being you pray to - and go when He or She beckons. Surrender. My God ran with me today. I got more from my run with God today than I ever have in a church. He met in a place of comfort, guided me to a place of vulnerability, and presented me with a gift. So, Mr. Robert Randolph, what did I come here to do? Today, I came here to surrender. And, today is gonna be a good day.
#surrender #Godranwithme #todayisagoodday
It has been eight days since my last run. The past week has been rough on me. My energy level met extinction. My body attacked itself and by Friday evening I was sick. Another sinus infection attacked, so I missed my long run on Saturday, and I couldn't muster the energy to run on Sunday. Luckily, today I have the day off. So, I ran. After all, I have a half marathon coming up on Saturday and need to get some miles in.
I decided to drive out to Furman University and take the Swamp Rabbit Trail up to Traveler's Rest and back. That route would give me the 8 miles I needed. However, I told myself it would be ok if I had to turn around early if I started feeling bad. Also, I told myself not to look at the time on the watch and just let the music carry me through my run. Relax. Release. Let go. Run.
After my lunge matrix and stretches, I took off. Just me and my music. This is the first long run I've done solo in awhile. I found myself having a hard to time relaxing, releasing, and letting go. But, I pushed through and kept telling myself, "Relax. Release. Let go. Just feel the music and run." A mile or so in I noticed my steps coincide with the rhythm of the music. I started getting into my groove. As the music picked up my speed picked up. As the music slowed down my speed slowed down. I was running for me. Relax. Release. Let go. Run.
Around mile three, I looked to the left and noticed an iron cross and an older man sitting on the bench in front of it. He was just resting looking up at it's rustic beauty. It has been at least a month since I've ran this route, and I've never noticed the cross before. So, it must be new. As I looked at this cross and the man sitting there it was like my run went into slow motion. My mind was clear. My mind was telling me I needed to stop at this cross on the way back. I needed to take a picture of this cross. The cross was beckoning me.
The run continued. I reached Traveler's Rest searching for a working water fountain. I never found one, so I stopped at William's Hardware and drank some water from the bathroom faucet. I don't recommend it, but it was needed. The run continued. At this point, I was headed back to Furman. I noticed my body starting to feel heavy again. Relax. Release. Just run. Relax. Release. Just run. Then, a song started playing.
Robert Randolph & the Family Band was live in my ears. Robert Randolph was telling the crowd to move their feet and let loose, and if they didn't feel like letting loose to go outside and kiss their man - don't stand in the way of the people who want to let loose. So, the band played, and he sang, "I don't know what you come to do - I don't know what you come to do - I don't know what you come to do - but I'm here to stomp my feet - let me see ya stomp your feet..." The steel guitar was going wild. The music was fast. The voice was intense. I found myself running faster. I found myself asking, "What did you come here to do?" If you don't know Robert Randolph & the Family Band, you wouldn't know they like to JAM. This song is over seven minutes long, and they jam the entire time. So, for seven minutes this song carried me through the heaviness. It carried me right back to the cross that beckoned me at mile three. Relax. Release. Just run.
I paused my watch. Walked up to the cross. Took a picture. Sat down on the bench, and I started talking to God. At first, I was fumbling over my words. I didn't know where to start or what to say. All I knew is I needed to talk. For awhile now I've lost my lust for life. I've convinced myself that I'm ok, when the reality is I've been trying to hide from myself. I've been depressed. I've allowed stress to flood to my body. I've allowed anxiety about my current state of health drag my mind into a pit of fire. I've allowed the negativity of the world to encapsulate my being. I've become toxic. I've become a weight on the shoulders of those I care about and love the most. I've become an actress in my own life. It has been a wearisome time.
I asked God for courage. I asked Him for strength. I told Him I need to learn to let go. I told Him I need to learn to quiet my mind, so I could hear Him. So, I could hear Him clearly. So, I could follow His path for me. And, as tears started trickling down my sweaty face, I found the words I needed to say to him. I surrender.
Those two words, I surrender, invigorated my spirit. So, I said them a few more times. I wiped away my tears. I smiled. I put my headphones back into my ears. I stepped onto that trail, started my watch, and took off. Immediately, I was lighter. At the cross, I stopped my watch at mile 6. When I got home and looked at my splits, mile 6 to 7 was the fastest mile of my run. In that mile, from the point I surrendered until the point I felt I was going to regurgitate all those toxins, I let Him carry me.
The next song I remember clearly emitted these lyrics:
We're gonna have a good day
And ain't nobody gotta cry today
'Cause ain't nobody gonna die today
Save that drama for another day
Heyyy we're gonna have a good day
Thank you, Nappy Roots. Today, I'm gonna have a good day. Relax. Release. Just run.
My God served me today. He graced me when I haven't shown Him grace. Today, I answered His beckoning at that cross, and though I had failed Him, He did not fail me.
Stop and listen to your God - whichever God or Divine being you pray to - and go when He or She beckons. Surrender. My God ran with me today. I got more from my run with God today than I ever have in a church. He met in a place of comfort, guided me to a place of vulnerability, and presented me with a gift. So, Mr. Robert Randolph, what did I come here to do? Today, I came here to surrender. And, today is gonna be a good day.
A personal carthatic moment. Bless you!
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