As I began my Sunday morning run earlier this week, my body felt
extremely sluggish, and I wondered whether I would make it a mile
before giving out. To get my mind off the fatigue, I began considering
the conversations Barry and I have had about Spenser's rehabilitation.
Although things are progressing exceptionally well, this phase of
Spenser's recovery is especially difficult, because he is now fighting
for inches rather than miles.
The thoughts circulating through my head took me back to the first time
I went running after the accident. I needed to clear the cobwebs, and
thought a good workout might do the trick. Spenser's fate was still
very much in doubt, and I was feeling frustrated, agitated and
distressed about not being able to help him. As I doubled back for my
return trip, I realized there was one thing I hadn't tried; I had never
offered myself up in return for his survival. So, as the sun broke over
the horizon, I began the process we all go through when one of our
young ones is threatened.
I started with the usual, "Take me and spare him," but quickly realized
I needed to add a few caveats. Things would be a little more difficult
around the store with me gone, so I decided to also ask that Barry's
vision be improved and that he be given the inspiration to continue
writing the weekly trading post tales. I briefly considered requesting
a posthumous Pulitzer Prize, but worried that might be asking a little
too much.
After making my suggestion to the powers that be, I plodded down the
highway, waiting for a lightning bolt from heaven or a runaway truck,
but nothing happened and I arrived home intact. The gods must have
found my overture naive, because they neglected it altogether; without
so much as a counter offer. Spenser was, however, generously granted a
reprieve without any sacrifice from me.
Since that time, I have dedicated my morning runs to Spenser. After
seeing how well prayers worked for him, I began to think I might be
able to create my own positive energy exchange; a running prayer as it
were, channeling strength to Spenser through jogging. As I ran faster
and longer, I imagined Spenser becoming correspondingly quicker and
sturdier. I equated each step of my journey to a step along his
personal path. As I became stronger, I envisioned him becoming more
powerful; each stride bringing him closer to a full recovery.
This process has continued since my initial commitment, so on Sunday
morning I began to move from feeling unsure about my progress to
focusing energy on Spenser. As I passed the two mile marker, I began to
wonder whether I could run the loop from the trading post, past the
mission, to the intersection of the Aneth/Montezuma Creek road and down
Cow Canyon into town; a distance of approximately eight miles. I had
not covered that stretch of pavement for a long time, but Spenser was
inspiring me and I thought it might be possible. The sun was shining,
and the thought of sending some good vibrations his way made my spirit
glow and my legs feel stronger.
When I reached the intersection of the Montezuma Creek road and Highway
163, I knew I had to make a decision. My mind was questioning whether
my body would cooperate. I felt the doubts Spenser must sometimes feel
during his therapy, but decided to push forward. A band of cattle held
their ground on both sides of the road a short distance after I made
the turn and a bull began to paw the ground in a threatening manner.
Once again I thought of Spenser and let out a whooping "haw." The cows
scattered, and I surged ahead, my strength and courage building. At
that moment I knew we would make it all the way.
As I started down Cow Canyon, I envisioned a time in the next several
months when Spenser will have overcome the majority of his obstacles,
and will be on his own downhill run. The valley opened up as I
descended into Bluff, and I spied the Jones farm; the end of my
journey. I knew in spring the alfalfa fields will once again turn
green, and Spenser will have worked through the winter of his
discontent. Right now things are difficult, but soon enough the
accident will be a distant memory.
Just as the miles had passed in spite of my doubts, so shall Spenser's
struggles pass with time and determination. I have realized that in
trying to help him, Spenser has made me stronger and more determined.
That, I believe, is the power of love.
Sincerely,
Steve
extremely sluggish, and I wondered whether I would make it a mile
before giving out. To get my mind off the fatigue, I began considering
the conversations Barry and I have had about Spenser's rehabilitation.
Although things are progressing exceptionally well, this phase of
Spenser's recovery is especially difficult, because he is now fighting
for inches rather than miles.
The thoughts circulating through my head took me back to the first time
I went running after the accident. I needed to clear the cobwebs, and
thought a good workout might do the trick. Spenser's fate was still
very much in doubt, and I was feeling frustrated, agitated and
distressed about not being able to help him. As I doubled back for my
return trip, I realized there was one thing I hadn't tried; I had never
offered myself up in return for his survival. So, as the sun broke over
the horizon, I began the process we all go through when one of our
young ones is threatened.
I started with the usual, "Take me and spare him," but quickly realized
I needed to add a few caveats. Things would be a little more difficult
around the store with me gone, so I decided to also ask that Barry's
vision be improved and that he be given the inspiration to continue
writing the weekly trading post tales. I briefly considered requesting
a posthumous Pulitzer Prize, but worried that might be asking a little
too much.
After making my suggestion to the powers that be, I plodded down the
highway, waiting for a lightning bolt from heaven or a runaway truck,
but nothing happened and I arrived home intact. The gods must have
found my overture naive, because they neglected it altogether; without
so much as a counter offer. Spenser was, however, generously granted a
reprieve without any sacrifice from me.
Since that time, I have dedicated my morning runs to Spenser. After
seeing how well prayers worked for him, I began to think I might be
able to create my own positive energy exchange; a running prayer as it
were, channeling strength to Spenser through jogging. As I ran faster
and longer, I imagined Spenser becoming correspondingly quicker and
sturdier. I equated each step of my journey to a step along his
personal path. As I became stronger, I envisioned him becoming more
powerful; each stride bringing him closer to a full recovery.
This process has continued since my initial commitment, so on Sunday
morning I began to move from feeling unsure about my progress to
focusing energy on Spenser. As I passed the two mile marker, I began to
wonder whether I could run the loop from the trading post, past the
mission, to the intersection of the Aneth/Montezuma Creek road and down
Cow Canyon into town; a distance of approximately eight miles. I had
not covered that stretch of pavement for a long time, but Spenser was
inspiring me and I thought it might be possible. The sun was shining,
and the thought of sending some good vibrations his way made my spirit
glow and my legs feel stronger.
When I reached the intersection of the Montezuma Creek road and Highway
163, I knew I had to make a decision. My mind was questioning whether
my body would cooperate. I felt the doubts Spenser must sometimes feel
during his therapy, but decided to push forward. A band of cattle held
their ground on both sides of the road a short distance after I made
the turn and a bull began to paw the ground in a threatening manner.
Once again I thought of Spenser and let out a whooping "haw." The cows
scattered, and I surged ahead, my strength and courage building. At
that moment I knew we would make it all the way.
As I started down Cow Canyon, I envisioned a time in the next several
months when Spenser will have overcome the majority of his obstacles,
and will be on his own downhill run. The valley opened up as I
descended into Bluff, and I spied the Jones farm; the end of my
journey. I knew in spring the alfalfa fields will once again turn
green, and Spenser will have worked through the winter of his
discontent. Right now things are difficult, but soon enough the
accident will be a distant memory.
Just as the miles had passed in spite of my doubts, so shall Spenser's
struggles pass with time and determination. I have realized that in
trying to help him, Spenser has made me stronger and more determined.
That, I believe, is the power of love.
Sincerely,
Steve
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