My running shoes are tired. The inside of each shoe has begun to peel away from the sole in retaliation against years of maltreatment and rancid odor.
The shoes have faithfully carried me through some of the most treacherous and disgusting terrain here in Armenia. They’ve survived cow poop, muddy swamps, stones, and heavy rainfall.
But throughout all of it, they've remained fundamentally in tact.
Today a friend and I did our usual track workout (on a giant gravel circle surrounding a field in our town). We did our usual workout – but we did it in the pouring rain. Normally for a runner, rain means you get the day off and don’t have to feel as guilty for staying inside. But today, we exposed ourselves to the elements and dashed bravely through the storm.
Sometimes it is intensely liberating to lean in and press through something that would normally inhibit us. I imagine a horse staring straight through a swarm of flies surrounding its head while maintaining focus on the hay that it wants to eat. He stares relentlessly into the face of chaos because he has a clear purpose in mind. Like the horse, I'm challenged to step out into my community, where there are often many challenges and irritations, and stay focused on loving well.
Running deliberately through life’s rainstorms and surfacing unscathed helps me remember that my joy can never be tainted by circumstance because unlike the mud on my running shoes, something that comes from within can never be washed away.
Weekly Grape: Do I cower away from discomfort or lean into it with fearless abandon?
