Hernando, The Mystery Runner

I went to a music festival last weekend. And I just relaxed the whole time, didn't run at all.... yeah, right. Ok, I went to a music festival last weekend and only ran on Sunday morning... Ok, there's the truth, it fits better.

On Sunday's run I noticed a few things:

1. I hate running on the roads. I only ran 18 miles, but it beat me nine ways to Sunday. My feet really hurt, I had to walk a few times just to ease the pain, and it's Tuesday, and I can still feel the effects. Yuck!

2. Hernando County is much more honest with there road names than is North Carolina. Way back a few moons ago I did a post on the cool names for North Carolina's streets. However, I saw no real evidence that the names were truthful. At least I hope they weren't, as I drove by Killpatrick Road and Burnt Schoolhouse Road. Well, In Hernando County I ran down Dan Brown Hill Road. About 1/4 mile up the hill I see Dan Brown's House. Furthermore 1/2 mile after that I see Dan Brown himself out walking and hoisting some arms weights. Just down the road a piece from Dan's crib I see a tiny little hawk, and I look over and sure enough, I'm passing by Tiny Hawk Road. Yall, I aint lying, stick a needle in my eye and all that jazz. For what it's worth, in Hernando County there is a little truth in advertising.

3. As I was wrapping up my run on Dan Brown Hill Road I was relieved that there was a long section on dirt road. Dirt road meant less pounding on the body. Dirt road also meant footprints. As I was running I noticed some footprints of another runner (this is not a well traveled road, and it was 7 AM) with a gate similar to mine. At first I wondered if this were my tracks, but the tracks were going in the same direction as me, so that couldn't have been the case. Whomever this mystery runner was, he (big feet) sought out the same ground texture as me. The tracks consistently veered to the soft but thin layer of sand, avoiding the softer deeper sand, yet also keeping off the better footing of the hard packed dirt. Any trace of my Mystery runner (Hernando I'm calling him, it's his county) would disappear completely from time to time and I'd wonder where he went. When I had given up on Hernando his tracks would reappear and that routine reoccurred until Dan Brown Hill Road turned back into the pavement on County Rd. 41.

Hernando's tracks got me to thinking about the parable called "Footprints" the story of a man walking on the beach and looking back on his life when God appeared at his side. As they walked God showed him the two sets of footprints on the beach where they walked side by side. The man recalled these as happy times. The old guy also noticed that at many times in his life there were only one set of footprints. He got a little snippy with God and said, Yo, God, how come when times got tough for me you disappeared on me? God, said, whatchoo talkin' 'bout? That's when I had to carry you man. You couldn't have done that without me, now drop and give me 20!

So, I was thinking about Hernando's footprints, and I realized that Hernando and I would never meet, and he wasn't carrying me, I wasn't carrying him. I don't know how his footprints appeared and disappeared. But, Hernando is out there running. And he is out there running for me when I can't run. I am out there running for you when you can't run, and I will tell you all about the amazing things that happen to me out there, please do the same for me! And don't just tell me or run for me, run for your mother who can no longer run, run for someone that is ill or disabled. Someone that only wishes they could be out there with you. Make it come alive, spread the joy.