My Favorite Run

     I've been running for quite awhile. I have covered thousands of miles in all conditions. I've had more good runs than bad. I can think of one run in particular that stands out as my favorite (though I have many that are very close to that title, as well). It was Friday March 18th, 2011. I must have been out of school for spring break, because I was still in physical therapy school at that time. It was supposed to start raining that morning, so I wanted to just get started running early in order to avoid getting caught in any downpours. If you know me now, you know that I actually enjoy running in the rain. To me, it is refreshing. It also makes you look really hardcore :) At that time though, it meant something entirely different to me. I tried to avoid being caught in rain whenever possible after Shelly's accident. Shelly was (and still is) one of my best friends. Her life was cut short in a car accident on August 18th, 2010. She lost control of her car in the pouring rain while driving back to Johnson City, Tennessee. As it turns out, this run fell on the 7 month mark following her accident. At that point, something about the rain increased my anxiety. I had learned that rain had power over life and death. I just wanted to get out and run before it brought back any bad memories. I laced up my Gel Nimbus and headed out my parents' front door. I managed to get down the street (literally one minute into my run) when it started ... rain. And it was coming down at a good rate. I was only down the street, so I could have turned around and retreated to a dry home. I really needed to get my run in, though, and this presented a conundrum. I decided to get over it and the need to run won out. I pushed on. 
     It continued to rain heavily as I exited out of the neighborhood, seemingly increasing in volume as I put one foot in front of the other. I took the trails out toward Hummel Park. About one mile into the run, I actually found myself enjoying my rainy run. Even though the rain was making my clothes soggy and heavier feeling, I myself began to feel lighter. I used this time to talk to God, Shelly, or whoever would listen to me at that time. I missed my friend. A part of my heart felt less full without her around. With this run, it felt like something had returned to me. Maybe a little more peace of mind? Maybe it was determination to keep going, to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It was easy to feel sad after experiencing a deep loss. I had kept replaying in my mind how I possibly could have changed the outcome of that day back in August. Over and over. What if I had shot her a text that morning? Maybe just a few seconds would have made the difference, maybe I could have delayed her trip just for a short period. Maybe it would have been enough to keep her out of the path of that semi. It's easy to kick myself, thinking that I could have made the difference. I finally began to forgive myself, like the rain was washing the guilt away. There is a bridge that connects the front part of the park to a back area where the trails continue. Just past this bridge, there is an amphitheater where they put on concerts in the warmer months. I decided to run toward this amphitheater. I sat on the concrete ground where the performers would normally be staged. I looked out on the grassy expanse in front of me, watching the rain as it continued to fall from the sky. It was peaceful. Calming. Something struck me about just how green the grass was and how gray the sky had been. What an interesting contrast, perhaps symbolic of the fact that there is still beauty in a world with hardships. I was the only crazy person out there in the pouring rain. I sat there for a few minutes, the only company being the thoughts in my mind. It was then time to return home. The amphitheater had kept me dry for a few minutes, but I had to return home somehow :) The rain was still falling just as hard as it had been before my rest break. I ran back home. The run itself was about three and a half miles total. It wasn't fast or especially challenging. It was one of those that help your mind. It didn't change the past, though I wish more than anything that it could. It has been about six and a half years since Shelly passed away. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. I miss her selflessness and her willingness to participate in whatever crazy scheme we could think of. I miss her laugh and her company. I know that I am blessed to have called her a friend. So many are not that fortunate. 
     Running is still a way that I feel close to Shelly. It seems to be a good way to communicate with her, with God, and again, with anyone who will listen. Shelly loved fall and stepping on the crunchy leaves, even going out of her way to step on one. I find myself doing the same on those fall days, just to let her know I am thinking of her. I have had many great runs, each one different and challenging in its own way. It heals me and helps me through life's greatest challenges. For that, I am thankful for the ability to run.