I have several special places that I go to in my mind when things get tough. Some special things are meant to be kept secret, I think. It's part of what makes it special. Some, though, are made more special by sharing it, because it's so wonderful, and you want others to find something like it, too.
The Tow Path...
As soon as I dropped my bags off in my room at the beginning of a new school year, I'd change into running clothes, lace up my Asics Evolutions, and head out for a run on the tow path.
The tow path is where I got glimpses a few times of what it felt like to fly. My lungs would be like machines, quickly pumping cold air in and out, continuously. My legs, stiff but strong, keeping up a brisk pace.
The tow path is where a budding friendship with someone I looked up to, sprung deep roots with strong bonds, over the course of a single long run.
The tow path is where I swam a long run with another good friend in a monsoon. Epic.
The tow path is where I got to share the joys of running with my teammates, finishing up the 7.5-miler to the theme of Chariots of Fire with the last pack, and to the cheers of our other teammates.
The tow path is where I could escape stress and set my own schedule, go at my own pace, linger as long as I wanted to, with no pressure to go back.
The tow path led to good food - dark chocolate at Wholefoods, and running gear from Marshall's.
The tow path was where I met different animals - a mongoose (something that looked like a squirrel but swims), ducks, geese, maybe a snake, maybe a turtle.
The tow path led to a nice bridge over Route 1 that's used by so few, that it was as if it was made for me and whoever I was running with.
The tow path is where I saw maybe the most beautiful scene I have ever seen in my life, and caught it on video, that perfect snowy day.
The tow path was where I could dream of running a marathon one day.
The tow path knew sweltering heat and hard ice and soft snow and hail and cool rain and warm monsoons.
The tow path has a cousin - the track.
The track knows driving winds that get you on the back straightaway.
The track knows the burn of an 800 at the peak of a pyramid.
The track knows the 100% at the end of the mile.
The track knows the "here we go again" to cut short the rest period between quarters once your heart rate is getting too comfortable.
The track is the testing ground for all, great and small.
The Tow Path...
As soon as I dropped my bags off in my room at the beginning of a new school year, I'd change into running clothes, lace up my Asics Evolutions, and head out for a run on the tow path.
The tow path is where I got glimpses a few times of what it felt like to fly. My lungs would be like machines, quickly pumping cold air in and out, continuously. My legs, stiff but strong, keeping up a brisk pace.
The tow path is where a budding friendship with someone I looked up to, sprung deep roots with strong bonds, over the course of a single long run.
The tow path is where I swam a long run with another good friend in a monsoon. Epic.
The tow path is where I got to share the joys of running with my teammates, finishing up the 7.5-miler to the theme of Chariots of Fire with the last pack, and to the cheers of our other teammates.
The tow path is where I could escape stress and set my own schedule, go at my own pace, linger as long as I wanted to, with no pressure to go back.
The tow path led to good food - dark chocolate at Wholefoods, and running gear from Marshall's.
The tow path was where I met different animals - a mongoose (something that looked like a squirrel but swims), ducks, geese, maybe a snake, maybe a turtle.
The tow path led to a nice bridge over Route 1 that's used by so few, that it was as if it was made for me and whoever I was running with.
The tow path is where I saw maybe the most beautiful scene I have ever seen in my life, and caught it on video, that perfect snowy day.
The tow path was where I could dream of running a marathon one day.
The tow path knew sweltering heat and hard ice and soft snow and hail and cool rain and warm monsoons.
The tow path has a cousin - the track.
The track knows driving winds that get you on the back straightaway.
The track knows the burn of an 800 at the peak of a pyramid.
The track knows the 100% at the end of the mile.
The track knows the "here we go again" to cut short the rest period between quarters once your heart rate is getting too comfortable.
The track is the testing ground for all, great and small.
I guess that the reason I love the Tow Path and the Track is because I feel most alive there. With friends, sharing life, either through deep, raw conversations (never heard that adjective used with that noun before, but I think it's a good one), or through the simple act of sharing an epic experirence together, something new, something challenging, something that stretches you. It's someone side-by-side with you, there to push you when you need it, looking out for each other, helping each other do what you may not be able to finish alone otherwise. And even when it's a solo run, you're out there more in tune with your Maker than usual. There are fewer distractions. Plus, when you run, you're heart is often beating so hard that you feel like you're going to die, yet you're also feeling more alive than you could ever be normally. You feel very human and weak, but in that weakness, you're more aware of how God sustains you with every breath he gives.
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