Running in a Fog

Recently Theodora Lau posed the question "How will we remember 2020?" At the time I responded that it was like my last race before lockdown. Conditions were difficult and though I achieved my goal, I was so beat up it gave me no joy. But lately a different running experience has been on my mind.

A few years ago I left the house shortly after 4 am to get in a long marathon training run before my day properly began. The weather was pleasant enough at first but as I descended into the rural valley west of town, I was enveloped by a thick fog. I was all alone and unable to see anything except the few feet of road illuminated by my headlamp. With no landmarks in view to gauge my progress, I had little perception of time as I carried on. It got so bad that I missed a right turn because I could not see the other side of the road. I had never felt so disoriented as I realized I had lost my way.

Reversing course, I found the turn and got myself back on track. Suddenly, a dark object loomed out of the fog in front of me. Side-stepping to the right just in time, I avoided by inches a collision with… a baby stroller being pushed by a woman. No sooner had my heart started beating again, another object materialized. This time I was ready, and as I again moved to the right, I heard a man’s voice say “you’re out here early!” All I could do was laugh. I was not alone after all.

Then, almost imperceptibly at first, the fog began to lighten. I turned north and ascended a ridge. The fog thinned further, and I began to see the world around me. The eastern sky grew brighter. As I turned back toward town there rose in front of me the most beautiful dawn, made all the more joyous because of the darkness in which I had been enveloped. I was still a long way from home, but my heart quickened. I gave thanks as I neared the end of the journey in the glowing light of a brand new day.