The first bitterly cold run of the winter arrives each year on tiny frosty feet. I know that it is coming. I try to ease into it, adding yet another fuzzier layer as the temperature dips, the gloves, the hat, all fashion sense discarded. Oh, it would be a lot more comfortable running inside on the treadmill, wearing just shorts and a tank top, watching the meteorologist guess at the forecast and broadcast pictures of bad weather wherever it may be. (Have you ever met an optimistic weatherman?) But then again, running on a treadmill is exactly that – running on a treadmill, heading nowhere, the little digital numbers increasing oh, so slowly (surely I have gone longer than THAT!?!)
I dread that first COLD run. It is a fear of mine. I don’t like to be cold. And well, I live in Chicago, so be it, time to figuratively “put on your big girl panties” and get out there, except in these temps, it is more like “big girl long underwear.” :)
It was 10 lonely degrees this morning. I waited until it “warmed up” to 18 degrees, bundled up in fleece and a soft shell jacket, and headed out. The air was crisp, the sun created enormous shadows through the lacework of tree branches, and well….it wasn’t too bad at all. I actually had a very nice run. By the time I returned home, the temperature had dipped to 15 degrees. As it usually plays out, my fear was just so much bigger than reality. “I was afraid of THAT?”
We all have fears that hold us back. What a shame. In so many things we encounter, we search for the avenue of convenience and comfort…….and oh, how much we miss of the life God wants us to experience --that which runs out in the snow and laughs out loud for sheer joy.
Do not fear, O Zion,
let not your hands grow weak.
The LORD, your God, is in your midst,
a warrior who gives victory.
He will rejoice over you with gladness,
He will renew you in His love,
He will exult over you with loud singing
as on a day of festival.
Zephaniah 3. 16-17
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