Footprints in the Snow

The new training season has begun! My formal group run training, the Northville Priority Health Run Camp which managed and led by Gazelle Sports Northville is now underway. We have had a few outdoor runs already, which is something that I had to get re-acclimated to (particularly because I hadn't run in the winter in a very long time).

I had forgotten what it was like to run in the bitter cold, with snow and ice blanketing an otherwise drab colored ground. Our first run of the season was in 20-degree weather (with full sun, thankfully). Fortunately, I came prepared with enough layers along with my running spikes (I use Due North Everyday G3 Winter Traction Spikes, which have years and years). I've learned through past, not-so-graceful falls on my tail that slipping on unforeseen ice while running is not the most enjoyable experience. And if anyone would fall due to being a clutz, it would be me.

We all began our run, a slow hour-long jog, and I quickly realized that it was a smart move for me to bring some traction. There WAS snow...and ICE. The wind had created intermittent ice sheets across the sidewalks.

Confidently, I pushed forward and slowly found my own rhythm. I didn't bring music that day, so unless I was going to engage in conversation (which I felt was simply too cold to do), I was in my own world.

There is a magic to running without music, alone with your thoughts. For me, I find myself in one of two places. I'm either bored and anxious, or I'm in almost a trance-like state. I very much prefer the latter. Listening to my breath leads me to a portal of different thoughts, where I can ponder, relax, and sometimes even solve problems.

As I navigated over the ice with ease, I saw something very common...footsteps. And with that, my mind wandered off. I began to think about how I got here.

When I was young, I was an athlete. I raced in downhill skiing from the time I was five. I basically lived in the water in the summertime. I had golfed through high school and college and had some pretty good rounds back in the day. But I HATED running. Not only was I slow, my feet hurt as if someone would take a knife and stab them as if I was being pinned on the cross. And not just when I attempted to run, my feet would hurt ALL THE TIME. It would take me two weeks minimum just to break in a pair of shoes (and when I pushed the limit, I was crawling on my knees for the rest of the day.) I had old lady feet at a very young age, thanks to severe bunions.

Enjoying a 3am (not a typo) snooze at work,
sporting my cast as a result of bunion surgery.
Circa 1994.

When I was in my early-20s, I decided to do something about that pain and worked with a wonderful podiatry specialist named Dr. Delewski (who is still in practice and who I highly recommend, by the way). She performed surgery on my feet, one foot at a time, and worked her magic. She broke my bones in more than one place, sawed off the unsightly protrusions that were the bain of my existence, and reconstructed everything with multiple stitches and screws (which are still there). I was in a non-weight-bearing cast for 10 weeks on each foot. It was a big hassle at the time, but it is one of the best decision that I ever made.

Years later, I took up running, which ended up being a pain-free experience (for my feet, anyway). I slowly kept upping my game. First a 5k. Then a 10k. Half marathon...full marathon. Today, I feel like I can do nearly anything (including a 50-mile ultra race, which I hope to successfully complete this summer), thanks to my health, and especially my feet.

But who would know all that by my footprint in the snow? No one. And that is the beauty. Each footprint I passed was a different mystery. Who do the footsteps belong to? What is that person's story? Are they young, or old? Male or female? Are they happy? Are they healthy? Are they a jerk? Are they wealthy? Are they religious? Have they gotten a speeding ticket, or worse? Do they like beer or wine? Were they born in the United States? Do they like our current president? Are they running for a better future, or running away from their past?

As I kept running, I smiled as the realization that crystallized in my head. Granted, some footprints are big and some are small, but when you take a step back, they all look the same. They really ARE all the same. And we are all created equal.

So the next time you see a footstep, whether it's in the snow or on the beach, keep that in mind. Everyone has a history, and everyone has a story to tell. But in the end, we are all the same, and we all deserve to get to that road that leads us to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.