Sep 252012

My cadence was interrupted by a glimmer of something silver hidden just under a layer of dirt. I slowed to a stop and squinted at the road. I don’t wear my glasses when I run, and I’m completely incapable of putting contact lenses in my eyes, which means I’m often wrong about what I’m seeing. I squinted down at what appeared to be a razor blade. I reached down and found that the razor blade was attached to a handle. I’ve picked up nails and screws and bolts and cell phones and jagged pieces of barbed wire before, but I’ve never picked up a box cutter.

I tried to retract the blade and found that dirt and sand had wedged inside the mechanism and now it was firmly stuck in the ready-to-cut-something position.

My first thought.

I’ll take it home. Who can’t use another box cutter? I could open it up and clean the dirt out, put it back together, and then cut open some boxes. So I started running with the box cutter in my hand, kind of like I was running a relay and the box cutter was the baton.

Then I started to worry. Sometimes people drive by me, and sometimes they even stop to chat. They slow their cars, pull up next to me and wave or say hello and inquire about the kids. I’d be running along with a razor at the ready. I’m already known as that crazy girl who runs all the time.

In the check-out line at Walmart I notice that the woman in front of me has looked back at me several times, then looked again, when the she finally says, “I know you, don’t I?”

I think for a second and shake my head, “I don’t think so.”

She looks away, then gets excited when she realizes… “Oh! I know who you are; you’re that girl who runs by our ranch!”


At the neighborhood ladies’ tea when the ladies are sharing their hobbies as a kind of ice breaker, when my turn rolls around I mention that I run. The lady across from me exclaims, “Oh my goodness! You’re the one! Were you running last month when we had the blizzard? I drove by you and thought, THAT LADY IS CRAZY!

“Um. Yes. That was me.”

Do I need to be known as the crazy lady who runs in blizzards AND carries an ejected box cutter?

No. I don’t.

My next thought. 

I should probably NOT run carrying a locked and loaded box cutter, because I’m probably going to fall, and I’ll probably fall right on the box cutter and puncture an artery, and die.

I pictured my family finding me on the side of the road in a pool of muddy blood. Stabbed with a box cutter. It would be horrifying.

No. I decide that have too much to live for. I’m not going to die today!

So I throw the box cutter in a bush on the side of the road.

My next thought. 

Some criminal threw the box cutter out his car window after using it to commit a horrible crime. Maybe even a murder.

OH MY GOSH! The police will bring out hounds, and the hounds will sniff and bark at the bush. They will investigate and find the weapon, take it back the crime lab, and show up at my door that very night with the evidence: my sweaty fingerprints! There won’t be any witnesses. I’ll have to hire a lawyer.

My next thought.

God sent that box cutter. I was SUPPOSED to pick it up.

I’m going to run around the next corner and be attacked by a mountain lion. I will need that box cutter with its razor ready! God sent the box cutter to save me, and what did I do? I picked it up and threw it in a bush. Great. Now I’m going to die for sure.

Should I go back and get the stupid box cutter out of the bush?

But then what will people think if they drive by and see me standing in the bush?

Or drive by and see me carrying an erect box cutter?

Or drive by and see my body in a pool of blood?

I run on for a while.

My next thought. 

Seriously? God would send a box cutter? Well, He could. He’s God. And that led me to my best thought of the day . . . because I remembered that, yes, He’s God.

I won’t be anxious about that box cutter, or about what other people think about me, or about things that won’t happen, or about things that might have happened, or about things I can’t control, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving for my crazy mind and my vivid imagination I’ll present my requests to God.

And then…

the peace of God, which transcends my understanding, will guard my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:6-7 My very own translation.

Jul 092012

Which is better to run in? Scattered T-storms? Isolated T-storms? Or just plain T-storms?  The hourly forecast lists a different type of thunderstorm for each hour of the day. I was contemplating which hour had the least risk of death, when it started to rain. The cold, hail infused, thunderstormy kind of rain. So, I […]

Oct 092011
muddy stream of consciousness

Saturday, October 8th muddy stream of consciousness wet October snow crisp country air muddy road old shoes and windbreaker blast lost my playlist when I switched computers that’s okay just Carrie Underwood today an hour to myself 0:00 start tire tracks full of water cold ears the smell of prairie sage baking in the sun […]

Apr 202011
the gift

I’m feeling twitchy; for the last two days I haven’t allowed myself any time to run. This concerns me because I’ve been waking up in a cold sweat with visions of standing at the bottom of a hill and looking up. The hill is something like the ascent of the Rebel Yell roller coaster of […]

Apr 072011

Last night as Sammy hopped in the car after soccer practice he bumped his ankle against the seat-back and let out an audible, “ouch.” “What’s up? Did you twist your ankle?” “No, I got kicked.” “Kicked in the course of playing soccer, kicked?” “Nah, kicked cuz some kid was mad at me.” I’ve been thinking […]

Mar 262011
In a Box (About Me)

I’ll admit I’m experiencing a bit of discord trying to write “about me.” I have angst about being stereotyped, labeled, or put in a box. This is something I think about a lot and write a great deal about; and here I sit, trying to put myself in a neat little box. If you know […]