The Run

The humid, hazy morning air was heavy in my lungs. It pumped in and out as my legs started moving almost mechanically. "Little Secrets" by Passion Pit blasted through my headphones, my feet gliding in rhythm to the music. The sidewalk curved. Cars zoomed by stressfully rushing to work. My legs kept moving, determined to discover another great route. A route that would become my own, just as route in Arlington had.

Running is my release. It's the first thing I think to do as stress or change hits and upsets the certain schedule of my life. My run in Arlington has seen me through a lot. Breakups. Uncertainty about my future. Fights with those I love. Running clears my head. It's all I know to do when dealing with doubt.

I turned to avoid crossing a busy street, nervous that the frazzled drivers would not take pity on the runner. I saw businesses opening for the first time. I sprinted through the Plano West school zone to "Here it Goes Again" by OK Go. I came to a crossing of a street, and had a hunch that it would take me back to where I started. I checked my stopwatch. 14:53, a perfect halfway point. Although risky, I turned the corner and continued to jog.

I looked in awe of the mansions that surrounded me. Each house seemed to have it's own personality, all centrally plotted on a large, green plot of land. My legs continued their rhythmic movement, beginning to fatigue as "I Wanna Be Sedated" by The Ramones blarred on. This was my pace song. Perfect timing.

Afraid to look back at my stop watch, exhaustion crept up my body, starting in my toes and creeping up through my thighs and into my back. The intersecting street that would take me to my car was no where in sight. The road curved. Deep down, I had a feeling I wasn't sprinting astray, but I just wasn't sure. "Keep running, 2 more songs" I told myself.

I was out of breath. My lungs started to ache as they gasped for air. I was ready to give up. The synthesizer of "Sweet Disposition" by The Temper Trap started. And then I saw it. The intersection. The stoplight. Park. A smile started to form on my face. I doubted, but I knew it would be ok.

My life feels like this run. A lot. I'm running on the trail of life, praying that I'm following Him. In His will. That His will rule my life, not my own. I turn, feeling that He wants me to. And then I doubt. I wonder if this is really it. I get tired. But just as I think I'm wrong, I'm ready to turn back, and I wonder why I turned in the first place, I see that intersection. I get to the street I know I'm going to. And I realize that if I focused just a little more on my faith and a little less on my doubt, life would be ok. Life would be more enjoyable. He will lead me where He needs me to go.

This semester, my practicum assignment is to work with adults. On Wednesdays, I work with adults with developmental disabilities. It's basically like working with hormonal 8 year olds. They make for some chuckles, but that's for another entry.

On Fridays, I work with older adults that have suffered from strokes or other neurogenic problems. It's a couple of hours of sitting and listening to the stories and wisdom that the older people have to share. We talk about life before their strokes, and play a lot of bingo. I don't feel like it is a population I will work with when I start my career, but it is an experience, nonetheless.

Yesterday, in our large group, we talked about jobs. First jobs, careers, and jobs that we wished we had chosen to work at. The last discussion was the most interesting. As each man or woman shared what they would have done with their lives if they could go back and change things, I noticed one key thing: most all involved helping people and persuing passions that has been suppressed a long time ago. One man wished he had been a history teacher so he could be a positive male role model for teenagers. Another's first job had been at Red Lobster, and he wished he could open a breakfast resteraunt, since his passion was cooking. Another had been an engineer up until the time of his accident, and couldn't see himself doing anything else. As I become an adult, I realize how rare that is, to find your passion and persue it wholeheartedly.

The most memorable, for me, was a lady who wished she had been a writer. She wanted to write commedy novels so she could make people smile. I suggested she should start a blog. I think the suggestion was partially to myself, as I shared that I would major in English so I would have an excuse to read classics, write, and teach or go to seminary. Maybe that's why I have a blog. As a creative outlet.

Can you persue it all? Can you help people while persuing other passions as well? Or is wishing and wondering what would have been if you had done something else inevitable? I think it's interesting that you won't ever know.

Hello, Autumn

September begins.

In nature, fall seems depressing. Leaves fall. Plants die. The world grows cold for winter.

Not for me. To me, fall brings a certain comfort few other things can bring.

The clean-start and joy of yet another semester. My next to last fall of school. Ever.

Crisp, cool, refreshing runs that cleanse both my mind and my body.

Football. Professional and college. Need I say more?

Thanksgiving. Precious family and friends. Remembering the uncountable blessings that have been showered upon me.

The predictability, the comfort of fall are more welcome this year than ever. As I adjust to life after college, even the little things that can be expected and planned for serve as anchors. They solidify that I will adjust. That life goes on for us all, myself included. That the beautiful colors of fall can continue to color my life, even though I'm not in Waco.

So, Welcome Autumn. I'm glad you're here.