Heavy Footprints

As I ran down the street this morning, I thought hard about lifting one foot and placing it in front of the other. It is starting over everyday. I fight harder. I have to, even knowing that tomorrow will be the same battle. I do this with a certainty that, in the end, I will be restored, healthy, and able to step on the ten mile trail like this eight weeks never happened. But, of course, there is no guarantee. I can't be promised by anyone that the easy run will ever again exist. I can't tangibly feel the runners high that floats through that future. I can't feel the loving embrace of the wind or that ever present strength of my heartbeat as I push the limits of what my body knows. I suppose this is what defines faith. Anyone of us could substitute a Deity of choice into this. For all our differences, all our religious judgements, we are all taught to have faith.

I have faith in my feet. I have faith in week nine.

In heavy footprints,
Beth