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Death and Judgment

June 1, 2014 (Night)

Exercise Type: Run

Weather: 85 Severe Thunderstorm

Comments:
Gorham to Livingston to Spaight through Orton Park to Lakeland to Welch to Garrison to Emmet to Milwaukee to North to Myrtle to Packers to Commercial to Sherman back to Gorham to Picnic Point and back-

The combination of eating too much for lunch and it being hot and humid out made me decide to wait until later in the evening to go for my run. It was one of those summer days where I felt so awful I spent much of the afternoon laying down not sure if I was awake or asleep. At some point I came to and noticed it was cloudy, somewhat windy, and lightly raining, so I decided to start my run. My stomach felt nauseous and distended, but not beyond the point I could bear running through without constantly thinking about it. I made a bathroom stop at my apartment when I finished the first loop and another when I reached Picnic Point. For most of this time it was cloudy and breezy and slightly cooler than it had been all day but still not really raining.

As I left Picnic Point on my way back the storm really hit about the same time twilight ended and it became pitch black. It started downpouring while I ran along the Lakeshore Path by myself in the dark except for the powerful flashes of lightning that lit up the sky. I was completely soaked and often running through inches of standing water. I questioned whether I should be out in this, weighing my perceived odds of death and the possibilities of judgment. Perhaps I should have gone to Confession today? I don't think I am in a state of mortal sin, but yet how much am I willing to wager on that? Everything? I became cognizant of these questions as I went pondering my own death, but also recognized that it was too late now to do anything other than keep going and hope I made it as I have so much left to live for. Clearly I made it since I wrote this log. All in all it was therapeutic to run in what seemed like a wall of water hitting my on a dark trail alone at night, unable to see a thing and only able to trust what is there in front of me, one step at a time. In some ways it was an affirmation of the need to live every day as if it were my last, not as a challenge to drain every last possible ounce of pleasure before I leave this mortal coil, but instead a need to surrender every ounce of enduring selfish pride I retain and live every day as though awaiting judgment. Not in a constant state of freaking out, but instead with the faith to approach nothing in this world with fear, recognizing that while I cannot see where it leads I must follow the path set before me one step at a time.

As I finished up the last mile to my apartment, the rain let up and the thunder became more distant. I made it back today but one day I won't. One day none of us will. It probably won't happen on a run. But it could.