It was dark. Really dark and stormy night. Don’t you love stories that start out like that? This isn’t one of those stories. Well it WAS dark. It was around 4 AM. It’s suppose to be dark that time of day – er night.
I had the distinct pleasure of running with Team Red Robin as part of the 2011 Colorado Relay – the second consecutive year I’ve been invited. This year’s event encompassed 200 miles of running starting at Breckenridge and ending in Snowmass, CO. The typical team consists of 10 runners who attempt to tackle 30 legs. Our team was joined by approximately 135 others. From reports after the race, nearly three dozen teams didn’t finish. Hey, it was a tough relay!
For me, two legs were complete with one awaiting around 5-ish in the morning depending on the time splits of runners preceding me. I was feeling OK for the most part. People have asked me “Why do you run these endurance events?” I’ve found that everyone has their own unique reasons. For me, it’s quite simple. I find that I am more spiritually sensitive when I run. I’ve learned so much about myself, my relationship with God, and life from putting myself in positions where I am completely spent. I honestly believe that is why so many people miss the voice of God in their lives because they insulate themselves for the purpose of comfort. I have nothing against a cushy couch mind you, or even a nice hot shower after a long run. But for most in our Western society, the pursuit of comfort as become the goal and I’d even say the pursuit has become the bane of our existence.
Just as every runner participates for their own reasons, every runner has their routine between the legs they run. Everybody does the usual potty break, reloading fluids and food, and stretching. LOTS of stretching. At this time of night most of us are not only tired from the running but also no longer enthusiastic with being confined to a 12 passenger van jammed with the most fragrant of athletes. Actually, it didn’t bother me that much. You sort of get desensitized to it. Its a tight fit. You wish you could stretch out but there just isn’t room. In our van we got a bit punchy and for the most part everyone stays good-natured as we encourage on our team mates who are running. Most of us at this point have been up 24 hours straight. So at this exchange point many people crash. There were better than two dozen people in sleeping bags trying to catch a power nap before their team’s runner arrived. So yes, literally bodies strewn everywhere. That goes well with the dark and stormy night motif. 🙂
Me? I’ve done all the bodily essentials except for sleep. But I can’t. I want to hear. But its tough, so I move away from the cars of the rest area and the bodies and the chatty runners who are stoked to take the next leg for each team. I’ve been surprised by God before on such events, but I came expecting this time. So I head toward the darkness away from the lights and the people at the rest stop. It was dark before, but it just got a lot darker.
I look up to see what I can see after having walked some distance away so as to minimize the light pollution and have some time of quiet and reflection. In a quasi-audible voice I quipped “Hey, I can see the Big Dipper!”. I stood there focusing my eyes on the heavens. Constellations began taking shape as I continued to name them off one by one. It was familiar to me. But something strange began to happen. As my eyes began to compensate for the lack of light, the familiar patterns in the night sky began to change. They began to fill in. Within a period of less than a minute the sky became bedazzled. I tried to soak it in. The beauty, majesty, depth, breadth, and haunting stare of the Universe gazing back at me. It reminded me of a quote I’d read in Les Misérables that I later had to look up to make sure I got it right:
“He was there alone with himself, collected, tranquil, adoring, comparing the serenity of his heart with the serenity of the skies, moved in the darkness by the visible splendors of the constellations, and the invisible splendor of God, opening his soul to the thoughts which fall from the Unknown. In such moments, offering up his heart at the hour when the flowers of night inhale their perfume, lighted like a lamp in the center of the starry night, expanding his soul in ecstasy in the midst of the universal radiance of creation, he could not himself perhaps have told what was passing in his own mind; he felt something depart from him, and something descend upon him, mysterious interchanges of the depths of the soul with the depths of the universe.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
As I stood with gaze fixed heavenward, another runner approached. I looked over. He wasn’t one of my team mates but I didn’t mind. He was waiting for a fellow runner to arrive before he would take off.
“What can you see?” he inquired.
“Come see for yourself” I encourage him with a hint of mischievousness in my heart. I was smiling but I I’m sure it was too dark for him to notice. He came over, stood next to me, and leaned his head back with arms folded.
“Hey, I can see the Big Dipper!”
I laughed. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“What do you mean?” he said inquisitively.
“Just wait for it. Keep looking.”
I waited with anticipation till my new-found friend’s eyes adjusted.
“God Almighty!” he exclaimed.
I burst out laughing and replied, “Yes. Yes, He is!”
I can hear you say that last sentence. Beautiful, brother. I love you AND your perspective.
Thank you, Beth. Love you too!