I awoke feeling ill, wan with fatigue. I did some chores, then went for a run.
Three times in the past, I”ve “cooked” a virus by running tough hills in hot weather. It’s been very hot, and I decided to try to cure what was ailing me by running in the hills behind Stanford. I began slowly, but in the final miles my body was radiating so much health and energy that I was putting in bursts at tempo pace.
I felt so happy to be out in nature, with my shirt off, running well and in good spirits. But I realized that I had begun to grasp at the experience, craving it with personal desire, and that my joy had faded. I’ve learned that when personal likes and dislikes take over, I lose joy – I feel isolated from the world, wrapped in my little self instead of expanding into un-self-conscious joy and freedom.
I was wondering how I could let go of the desire for enjoyable experiences and run in simple harmony with the wider Self, in tune with all life. I thought, “I need to move over into that ego-free side of running, and run less for myself.” And then I heard an intuitive voice that said, “Why don’t we run together?”
I was skeptical. I wondered if it was a true message or the trickster firings of a brain that had been baked for over an hour in midsummer heat. I thought, “Was that real, or am I spinning fantasies?”
I was descending a steep hill on a rutty, single-track trail, edging my way along, when I became aware of loud footsteps approaching very fast behind me. I stepped off the trail to let the runner go by, but when I turned and smiled, there was no one there.
Continuing the run, I relaxed and enjoyed the wonders of nature and the peace of each moment, sharing the day with God and enjoying the body’s lovely rhythm. There was no sense of the experience being special – it seemed just one of the natural, ordinary events of the day. God can be very plainspoken.
