Running Shoes

It wasn’t until I graduated from college that I discovered running. I was in my early twenties and living in the Brookhaven neighborhood of Atlanta. A loop around a nearby golf course was almost exactly three miles, and I remember feeling like a million dollars the first time I was able to run the entire hilly route without stopping and gasping for breath. Running my first Peachtree Road Race a year later, I felt the embrace of an entire city as I wound my way with thousands of others through the center of town and past cheering bystanders.

The news on Monday of the terrible bombing at the Boston Marathon has left me feeling shocked and saddened, as it did so many others. And, as a runner who knows the thrill of this sport and has experienced the hospitality and enthusiasm that a road race can generate, I wanted to do something. I wanted to be in solidarity with the victims, their families and friends. I wanted to show my support for the persons who, without hesitation, rushed to the scene to help those who were injured and suffering. I wanted, in some way, to keep the city of Boston close to me each day.

And then it occurred to me: I can wear my running shoes.

Any runner knows that the shoes make or break the running experience. They are the only equipment that the sport has, so they must do everything right – fit like a glove, be light as a feather, and be strong enough to take a regular pounding, as well as support the 26 bones, 33 joints, 107 ligaments and 19 muscles and tendons that are located in each human foot. My running shoes are beloved to me, and I normally wear them only when I run (which hasn’t been nearly enough these past several months).

But this week, I have decided that they are coming out of my closet and onto my feet for another purpose. They are now my connection to those runners and spectators who gathered together to celebrate an ancient sport, a city’s pride, and the accomplishments of family and friends. I have worn them to Northwest this past week and will be wearing them to our Earth Day worship service this Sunday. I invite you to do the same.

I also think it’s high time I hit the road again – not only for my physical health, but also for my sense of hope. I don’t want to let this tragedy make me or anyone else afraid of celebrating life and following their passions.

See you on Sunday . . . with sneakers on.

Terry