Draegerman
Internet Somebody
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The morning had a chill in the air; the early spring dew glistened off the blades of grass as the birds began to rise up in full chorus. The sun shined brightly with hardly a cloud in the sky...it was just such a beautiful day to run. The car accident that almost cost me my life had taken such a huge toll on the quality of life that I grew accustomed to – so I needed this run even if it was to only bring a little normalcy back to it.
I didn't even bother to stretch, didn't need to...my body was telling me to just fly.
So I did.
The neighborhood was ghostly quiet as I got on my way. Not even the dogs were up and about, barking their greeting (or warning if you prefer). It felt like I was the only one doing something while the rest of the world quietly slept. It was as if I was the only one alive.
My first thought as I started out in a slow jog was how good it felt to breathe the fresh air again. It tasted like candy to the lungs as I made my way around through the neighborhood. Even though it was a bit risky, I decided to pick up the pace and push myself. If you had been watching, you couldn't help but notice this huge grin on my face as I passed each house by in rapid succession like a race car passing stationary objects in a blur. What amazed me was how easy it felt to do it. No betrayal of body, no gasping for air...just a nice fluid-like motion.
Suddenly out of nowhere and without any kind of warning, my son (the true runner in the family) came up right along side of me. I forgot that it would be time for him to do his morning jog. What a pleasant surprise to see him. With a smile on his face, he looked over and said, "Dad, you're running again!" My elation was so overwhelming that I was simply at a loss for words and couldn't reply. So I smiled back and nodded in affirmation as if to say, 'Yep, check out your old man'.
For what seemed like this beautiful moment frozen in time, there we both were, father and son, running side by side. I wanted it to last forever. Then, without realizing it, he starts pulling out ahead of me as it becomes more difficult to keep up. He looks over his shoulder and shouts, "C'mon dad, you can do it." So I tried to push harder to catch up but for some reason I continued losing ground - something was wrong. The distance between the two of us widened and for a moment I couldn't figure out what in the world was happening. So he turned back again and this time he looked so sad. There seemed to be a tear in his eye as he stretched his arms out towards me, beckoning me to catch up, pleading with me. I smiled nervously, shaking my head to reassure him. I wanted to tell him that everything was okay and not to be sad, that I just needed time to regroup. In my desire to reassure him, I, too, needed a little reassurance myself. So I looked down at my legs to see what the hell was going on, but they weren't my legs any more. They were just too deformed-looking to be mine, each with several scars running across in different directions accompanied with these hideous metal braces wrapped around each leg. It was just so surreal.
I looked up again to call for my son to help me...but by then he was gone. Had he ever really been there or was it all created in my overworked imagination? That's when I noticed the pain. My legs were both hurting, screaming at me, so I was forced to stop and hope for the pain to ease. The bright sunny day suddenly became dark with little or no visibility to see. I closed my eyes hoping that things would get clearer once I opened them again.
Darkness.
Lying on the couch, dazed and confused, I tried to play back in my mind what had just happened. But the pain was real and I couldn't concentrate any longer. Searching for my walking cane, I tried to get up off the couch and make my way to bed. It was such a struggle just to set up and get going. Slowly, I was able to move across the living room and up the stairs (the part that would be the most challenging for me). I made it about halfway up the stairs before my legs gave out on me, almost refusing to go any further. I crumbled right there on the step, wanting to give up and stay there until morning. The loneliness and despair engulfed me.
Out of the darkness a hand reached out and touched my shoulder. It was my wife (who must have heard me struggling), coming to my aid yet again. She quietly got me up and guided me slowly to the bedroom. She was able to get me to lay down as she went to grab some pain medication and ointment to rub on my body to help me to relax and get back to sleep. Once she got me settled, she began rubbing my legs and talking to me in her soothing voice. I wanted to tell her about my dream but it was too depressing so I closed my eyes and let her voice comfort me. I began drifting off again as her last words to me were that everything would be alright. Within moments I surrendered to my exhaustion, hoping that it would be a dreamless sleep.
I'm running again…
I didn't even bother to stretch, didn't need to...my body was telling me to just fly.
So I did.
The neighborhood was ghostly quiet as I got on my way. Not even the dogs were up and about, barking their greeting (or warning if you prefer). It felt like I was the only one doing something while the rest of the world quietly slept. It was as if I was the only one alive.
My first thought as I started out in a slow jog was how good it felt to breathe the fresh air again. It tasted like candy to the lungs as I made my way around through the neighborhood. Even though it was a bit risky, I decided to pick up the pace and push myself. If you had been watching, you couldn't help but notice this huge grin on my face as I passed each house by in rapid succession like a race car passing stationary objects in a blur. What amazed me was how easy it felt to do it. No betrayal of body, no gasping for air...just a nice fluid-like motion.
Suddenly out of nowhere and without any kind of warning, my son (the true runner in the family) came up right along side of me. I forgot that it would be time for him to do his morning jog. What a pleasant surprise to see him. With a smile on his face, he looked over and said, "Dad, you're running again!" My elation was so overwhelming that I was simply at a loss for words and couldn't reply. So I smiled back and nodded in affirmation as if to say, 'Yep, check out your old man'.
For what seemed like this beautiful moment frozen in time, there we both were, father and son, running side by side. I wanted it to last forever. Then, without realizing it, he starts pulling out ahead of me as it becomes more difficult to keep up. He looks over his shoulder and shouts, "C'mon dad, you can do it." So I tried to push harder to catch up but for some reason I continued losing ground - something was wrong. The distance between the two of us widened and for a moment I couldn't figure out what in the world was happening. So he turned back again and this time he looked so sad. There seemed to be a tear in his eye as he stretched his arms out towards me, beckoning me to catch up, pleading with me. I smiled nervously, shaking my head to reassure him. I wanted to tell him that everything was okay and not to be sad, that I just needed time to regroup. In my desire to reassure him, I, too, needed a little reassurance myself. So I looked down at my legs to see what the hell was going on, but they weren't my legs any more. They were just too deformed-looking to be mine, each with several scars running across in different directions accompanied with these hideous metal braces wrapped around each leg. It was just so surreal.
I looked up again to call for my son to help me...but by then he was gone. Had he ever really been there or was it all created in my overworked imagination? That's when I noticed the pain. My legs were both hurting, screaming at me, so I was forced to stop and hope for the pain to ease. The bright sunny day suddenly became dark with little or no visibility to see. I closed my eyes hoping that things would get clearer once I opened them again.
Darkness.
Lying on the couch, dazed and confused, I tried to play back in my mind what had just happened. But the pain was real and I couldn't concentrate any longer. Searching for my walking cane, I tried to get up off the couch and make my way to bed. It was such a struggle just to set up and get going. Slowly, I was able to move across the living room and up the stairs (the part that would be the most challenging for me). I made it about halfway up the stairs before my legs gave out on me, almost refusing to go any further. I crumbled right there on the step, wanting to give up and stay there until morning. The loneliness and despair engulfed me.
Out of the darkness a hand reached out and touched my shoulder. It was my wife (who must have heard me struggling), coming to my aid yet again. She quietly got me up and guided me slowly to the bedroom. She was able to get me to lay down as she went to grab some pain medication and ointment to rub on my body to help me to relax and get back to sleep. Once she got me settled, she began rubbing my legs and talking to me in her soothing voice. I wanted to tell her about my dream but it was too depressing so I closed my eyes and let her voice comfort me. I began drifting off again as her last words to me were that everything would be alright. Within moments I surrendered to my exhaustion, hoping that it would be a dreamless sleep.
I'm running again…
