In March I took up running. A life-long walker/hiker who thought she hated running, I had a surprisingly good time pushing myself to more frequent runs which became faster and longer runs (still not far or fast, but my only competition is myself.)
It was fun until it wasn’t. Gulping in deep outdoor fresh-air allergy-heavy breaths, I developed breathing issues. For about six weeks I could hardly walk across a room or hold a conversation, which put running firmly out of reach.
As soon as I could I got back to it, starting right back at the beginning and yet doing it, persevering. And then I sprained my ankle. Honestly, I think I took a bad step hiking but running aggravated it. I’ve been limping for two weeks, but I hope to be running again soon.
The other night we firmly nudged Tween toward his bike for an hour-long pre-sunset solo bike ride. After a day of sitting on his patootie, he needed some exercise. He returned just before dark with silent tears streaming down his face: he had watched as one car–then another, and yet a third car–struck a baby deer (how that even happens, I can’t imagine…). He set down his bike to investigate, to see if he could possibly offer any assistance. He heard it scream, then whimper. He watched it twitch. He yelled in helpless frustration at passers-by who didn’t stop to help. Realizing he could neither put the deer out of its misery nor move it out of the way, he finally left it behind to head home.
His heart broke. He cried on and off until bedtime, and found sleep difficult.
Exercise can cause body aches and heart aches. I suppose we could all move our exercise indoors to the safety of air-conditioned gyms, a good idea sometimes but not a permanent solution. The outside world can cause all sorts of aches, but avoiding it is not the answer.
Risk is an essential part of life, the life we encounter when we close the front door behind us. Allergies, labored breathing, sprained ankles, and yes, even broken hearts, may be exercise risks, but they are risks worth taking. Strangers, violence, hardship, challenging thoughts that lead to paradigm shifts also await us beyond the safe shelter of home. And we learn and grow and become stronger people as we face each risk with courage.
I am glad Tween has a sensitive heart, and I am grateful he chose to share his sad story with us so we could cry and talk through it together. I can’t protect him forever, but for now I have the privilege to process with him life’s brokenness and beauty. I have the responsibility to teach him to exercise caution, but not too much.