Why I run

November 10, 2009

"Oh sweetie, why don't you wait for me to run and we'll go together when I get home from work? I wanna run too," I implored.

"Okay. But it's not gonna be one of those 'I'm too tired to go,' when you get home is it?"

I laughed, "No. I seriously want to go for a run." And so it was that when I walked in the door he was sitting there in his running clothes waiting for me.

We started off walking through the neighborhood until we got to the park that's about a half a mile away. When we got to the park we both began to ran at our individual speeds around the track. I turned on my music, a Los Lobos mix Jeremy had made for me years ago of my favorite LL tunes. I found a nice pace and let my body settle in.

The sun was beginning to set. The colors were brilliant. I didn't want to turn on the path and leave the beauty behind me. Ahh yes, and then Saint Behind the Glass began to play:

"Baby in his arms, baby in his arms, Saint behind the glass has a baby in his arms."
"Watches me sleep, watches me sleep, Saint behind the glass watches me while I sleep."
"Mother don't cry, mother don't cry, Saint behind the glass tells mother not to cry."

I could see it! I could see it there in the stained glass sky in front of me. The saint behind the glass, in the colors of heaven, holding my Harper Lee. The same saint who watches over me while I sleep, telling me not to cry. My heart welled up with relief and joy. And I opened up and flew. I ran as fast and as hard as I probably ever have. I felt as if I were opening my entire being and letting all the ache fall right out of me. Let go Abby. Let go. And I did. I let go.