Track Musings

Picture an oval running track, like one in any small town.  There are a half dozen-or-so singletons or couples meandering their way around, some walking and some jogging.  It's pre-9:00am on a sunny, cloudless Thursday.

Picture me, clad in calf-length black athletic leggings (and I make the distinction that they were athletic leggings because they are made with yoga-pant-thick material and because I completely agree with the saying "Leggings are not pants".), fancy-shmancy grey and hot pink running shoes (thank you tax return), a hot pink, loose racer back top (thank you Christmas gift card), phony white and teal Raybans and hair (bangs included) tucked up as high as it will go.

iPod in hand, interval timer started and iTunes serenading me, I started.

Walk two minutes, run one minute, repeat.  Breathe, heave, burn, repeat.

The music is a last-minute-throw-together combination of Timbaland, Manafest, Usher, Down With Webster and Lady Gaga (the dregs of all the "upbeat" music I had on my iPod).

The Monster Queen's song Born This Way geared up and threw down.  It's a fantastic song because the beat is perfect for keeping my walking pace quick after my run interval.

I must also add, that sometimes I have to consciously restrain myself from busting into a chaos of dance moves when I hear a good song with a good beat.  I often find myself humming or mouthing words or employing other ways of letting the rhythm get into my bones when I'm in public.

I was chin to the sun and eyes up when the deep bass undertones of the song started thumping through my ear drums.

Now, I will give you that Lady Gaga is far from mild, vanilla or any other term you'd like to insert here that describes something non-offensive or temperate, and some of her song lyrics (and music videos and outfits and red carpet capers) aren't something I could find myself taking life lessons from.

But as I pumped and stepped and steeled myself to keep going, something more than the window rattling baritone was sinking into my head.

In between wondering if I looked as ridiculous as I felt and mentally pleading for the timer to beep an end to my best effort at "running", I started hearing things like "nothing wrong with loving who you are", and "He made you perfect".

Panting, wheezing and the dawning of a truth sometimes buried deep.

"I'm beautiful in my way."
 Sunglasses slipping down a sweat-drenched nose.

"Don't hide yourself in regret, just love yourself."

Blood pumping, lungs heaving, quadriceps burning and the infallibility of my identity pounding my soul like my shoes pound the track.

"Rejoice and love yourself today."
Ponytail swinging like a pendulum.

"God makes no mistakes."

Round another corner, take another step and the dawning truth is a full-blown sunrise on my heart.
 Light flooding the dark and murky places, where lies like to grow, with warmth.
Belief amplifying and multiplying and suffocating the fallacy, and gratitude spilling out for a Spirit working on a heart in disrepair.
Exercising the heart to be healthy and be strong, thriving on truth.
Exercising the body to be the same.