The Angels Wanna Wear My Red Shoes

Since their wings have got rusted, 
you know the angels wanna wear my red shoes.
And I won't get any older, 
now the angels wanna wear my red shoes.
Elvis Costello

My red shoes.
Salomon Gortex XA Pro

This year I ran a whole bunch of miles for a whole bunch of reasons. I ran more miles in 2015 than any year previous. I experienced the bliss of success and the sting of defeat.  I was side tracked with injury and I happy-danced over a few finish lines. It was a good year and I am grateful for your part in making it so.

In thanks for your friendship, your readership, I give you a kaleidoscope of one runner's year in review.  I expect it is much like yours.

I ran along twisty trails, through thick bush, and tall grasslands. I ran lone-wolf into bitter wind at 6AM on freakishly cold streets. I slipped on black ice and I splashed through brown slush. I ran in large cheery groups with laughter ringing and warmth radiating. I ran with a single friend where the the talk was joyful and meaningful. I ran on secret trails laid skinny by fatbikers. I ran under the stars and over the rivers. I ran through silence and I ran through raw emotion. I ran in pain and I ran in jubilance. I lay witness to the sun's rising on the Assiniboine River and I marvelled in the light of a new day born.

I ran to forget and I ran to remember. I ran away and I ran towards.  I ran with images of a Syrian toddler washed up on shore and I sobbed quietly on those secret trails. I ran with images of the Paris bombing and I seethed and clenched my fists on those same trails. I ran with thoughts of friends battling cancer and I felt helpless.  I ran to find solutions to problems arising. I ran to calm the jagged edges of the daily grind. I ran to find inner peace when chaos abounded.

I ran with grace in the company of you. I thank you for your companionship along this endless trail. In time and distance we learn to recognize where we are on the path and we understand it's alright. We understand no matter how challenging, how insurmountable, how steep, we can do this trail, one step at a time.

Remember friends, there's many angels with rusted wings, broken wings, that would give their life to run in your red shoes. Be kind to those angels for they are broken. They say they want your red shoes, but what they really want is your kindness.

We are each other's angels. 

Chuck Brodsky

I so look forward to the next opportunity to run with you. I wish you all the happiest of trails in 2016.


It's a good day to be alive,

Mike

The Spaces We Run Through

The Spaces We Run Through
Michael Anderson

(Published with permission)

Michael Anderson
Lost Soul Ultra 2015
Lethbridge, Alberta

I went to church today
Not in a building
But in the spaces the buildings have not consumed

Rows of pews replaced by trees
A ribbon in the snow my aisle

The crunch of steps my prayer
My sweat and breath the offering
I think of life, and love, and loss

I return home
Refreshed
Revived
Renewed

Post script: I love this little poem by Michael Anderson. I love the simplicity and the sentiment. I love the tenderness, the purity, the sweetness. I love the image created by the line "...in the spaces the buildings have not consumed". These spaces we run through, mindless, mindful, full of hope and promise. Images of our daughters and sons, mothers and fathers; in these spaces, where buildings have not consumed. We follow the ribbon; the endless ribbon. We think of life and love and loss.  I love how we return home refreshed, revived, renewed. Ready for another run through spaces; spaces the building have not consumed.  

Thanks you Michael for your spirit and your gift; you make us whole.

It's a good day to be alive,

Mike