Today was going to be the day. Projected high of 48 degrees, plenty warm outside. Energy, motivation, and free time were all mine. Today was the day I was going to start running again!
I have missed running-- the endorphins, the fresh air, the permission to eat more freely (not the least significant benefit, in my mind!). Pregnancy nausea and winter weather had made it all but impossible to run outside, which I vastly prefer to running inside. I have been feeling better recently, and it was such a warm (relatively) day, that I decided I would get down the jogging stroller off its hook in the garage, bundle up Caleb, lace up my running shoes, and go for it. Even if it was destined to be a short jaunt, I was okay with that. My goal was to make it all the way down Bullet Road (about a mile out from our house) and back. If I had to walk partway, and I was pretty certain I would need to, I was okay with that too.
Well, I got as far as the driveway. Caleb was a little red-jacketed Michelin man strapped into the jogger. I had inhaler, phone, and garage clicker in hand. We started walking down our driveway, which boasts a fairly steep slope. I guess I had not securely locked the jogger into place, because it started collapsing as we went down the driveway. I am SO thankful Caleb was not harmed. He just sat there on top as it folded down on itself, probably a little flummoxed that he was so close to the ground. I, however, did not escape without injury. Somehow I managed to whack my shin pretty good on the jogger as I tried to catch it without falling down the hill, hard enough to create a lump and a deep gouge. It didn't bleed much, but as I looked at it I didn't think it would be wise to try and run on it.
I managed to get the jogger upright and locked into place with Caleb still in it, and gingerly conveyed it and my throbbing leg back up the driveway. I took Caleb inside, removed his jackets and hat and shoes moments after putting them all on, and got some ice for my leg. I must admit I cried a little as I sat there holding a towel-covered bag of ice to my leg, mostly from the frustrated hopes of not getting to go outside and run, partly from the pain. Why does everything have to be so difficult? It would be easy to get inordinately upset over this kind of disappointment. I think it drives home the point that there are trials of all shapes and sizes (and outcomes). It might be a miscarriage-- been there, doing that-- it might be a job loss; it might be a broken pencil or a paper cut or a loved one's death or a thwarted plan-of-the-day.
I am so glad God's plans are never thwarted! I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. (Job 42:2) He is the only one who can definitively, authoritatively "say the word" and guarantee that it will happen exactly as He planned it. That is a comforting thought, even with a bruised shin and a disappointing lack-of-run this afternoon. As Sean comforted me, there's always tomorrow! Stay tuned for the next chapter in my up-and-down-and-all-over saga. :)
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