A Spirited Run

I’m not a runner. Well, technically I trained for a 5K and completed it with only a few walk breaks but I think there’s a reason you don’t see 3.1 car stickers. Anyway, because I’m not a runner I’ve never experienced the delightful-sounding “runner’s high.” That moment when you transcend sidesplitting, shin-aching drudgery to a Zen-like oneness with your path.

I have however known the enjoyment of being so engrossed in an enriching activity that it felt like I was “in the zone.” Things were just flowing, my body was an extension of my mind and they were in perfect harmony. Man, that’s an awesome sensation.

There’s also the uniquely satisfying feeling of epiphany. That aha moment when an insight strikes. Two previously uncorrelated ideas come together in a magnificent pairing that just makes sense. Once you’ve thought the thought, you can never un-think it.

What I find interesting about all of these situations is that they often follow what neuroscientists and human behaviorists would describe as a struggle-struggle-exasperation-burst sequence. When we quit trying to control the outcome and instead give in, that’s when the subconscious magic happens.

You’re running, you’re running, you’re hating life, you’re running, you’re running, and out of nowhere all is well in the world.

You’re encountering resistance to your project, you’re trying to find new alternatives, you get ready to start a new task and suddenly you find you’re knocking the project out of the park.

You can’t figure out the solution, you pull an all-nighter just turning the problem over and over in your mind, you finally opt for a shower and boom, the answer stares you in the face.

While all of this is fascinating (IMHO) you may be wondering what it has to do with spirituality. Indulge me a few minutes more.

It was Friday. Since I give up meat every day (though technically I’m vegetarian by choice, not as an act of devotion) I had decided that this Lent I would give up dairy and eggs on Friday as a special sacrifice; I’d be a Lenten Vegan.

While I wasn’t fasting per se, eating food without cheese is super boring so my lunch had been pretty basic. Then it was time for daily Mass at 5:30 and the act of kneeling plus fewer (and blander) than usual calories paired with a high-pitched hum in the back of church left me feeling tired. Exhausted, really.

I offered up my fatigue and acknowledged that I had enjoyed more food, more sleep and less stress than many millions of other people in the world that day. I kept on “churching,” and suddenly the hum became an energetic vibration resonating within my very being. The feeling of exhaustion became surrender and I released that pesky trait of trying to keep the whole world in order all on my own.

My hunger and tiredness became an invitation to experience the Mass differently. In that moment the scripture readings took on a different tenor, the pleasant smiles of others in the pew took on greater warmth. My environment was changed because I was changed. I knew that I was unequivocally at the right place at the right time. Or more truly, at His place at His time.

It wasn’t a complete transformation. Let’s be honest, about 35 seconds after this blissful moment my stomach growled, my back ached and I pulled my coat around my shoulders to fight off the chilliness of a sparsely attended church.

But I could still savor that moment when I let go, and let God. It was the taste of a spiritual runner’s high. (And for the record, it was way better than cheese.)