I like to run and find it useful as a metaphor for life itself (as does the Christian Bible—see 1st Corinthians 9: 24-27; Hebrews 12: 1-3). Since we humans apparently like to mark our laps around the sun, it is common practice at year’s end to look back before heading off for another lap. We consider the bests and the worsts from the past year. We remember the new things that came our way and the people who made their departures. And then we throw a party in honor of and in spite of it all.
We have had some tough stuff to deal with where I live in the past few months, but that is no surprise to those familiar with anything requiring endurance. The year to come will surely have its own challenges. Therefore, we keep going, placing one foot in front of another, never stopping until we reach the finish line.
As I reflected on the run known as 2018, I remembered the actual running I did this year. I ran alone, and I ran with friends, and I ran all over the place. The year kicked off with a great run along the Rose Parade route in Pasadena with my running buddy, Brad, and by year’s end I had enjoyed runs in six states and two nations on two continents. I nearly froze my running shoes off running in the snow high in the mountains of Colorado. I ran across the Idaho-Washington border for a lovely run along both sides of the Snake River. I braved the mud and traffic for an unforgettable run in the heart of Nairobi. And I went back home to Arkansas where it all started and ran around my high school track on the morning of our thirty-year high school reunion. In between I witnessed breathtaking scenery on trails and along the beaches here in beautiful California.
If all goes well, 2019 will be another great run. I suspect that at times I will again run alone, and at others I will run with friends—and that I will explore all sorts of interesting new places. Now I am talking about life again.
Bring on the new year.