The thing about strength is that you have to know your weakness.
I begin to run my second lap on the track at my school. They cancelled our classes for the entire day and replaced it with activities that are supposed to help us.
The thing is:
- it’s Friday
- I’m Catholic
- it’s Lent
- I’m fasting
- I ate a couple crackers for breakfast
But now I’m starting to run my second lap even though the teachers told us that we could walk.
But I don’t want to walk. And I don’t want to complain.
And I don’t want anyone else to hear my stomach grumbling or hear me whimper a bit when my stomach begins to constrict itself to beg me to stop.
Instead, I continue running, hoping that there will be at least drinks when we’re done.
It’s strange. The last time my school did this, there were people passing water bottles to everyone. I don’t know why those people didn’t run. They were students too, and it wasn’t like we didn’t have handicapped people participating in our little three-mile walk/jog.
But now there isn’t anything.
Instead, I only hope for water and just say this running and walking for a mile and a half – shortened only because of a flash flood warning – is just part of my suffering for Lent.
Because you should suffer and learn to get closer to God, right?
I slow to a walk, unable to run a full lap – just half. I look around and see that some people are giving up and cutting through the ovular track to say they just give up.
Maybe it’s just a part of my pride, but I begin to run again, away from the path of people cutting the track. I want to run the full mile and a half even though it’s not much. It means much to me.
I try to show no emotion about how miserable I am, starving, and end up praying the Our Father in my head to shush my hunger.
I’m happy because it works. It not only silences my hunger, it silences the pain in my legs.
I run faster and stop when I make the full lap, walking again, ready to wrap it up with the third lap.
When I’m done, I realize I left my bag in my classroom and head in the school building only to be rushed out by teachers who tell all the students to either go to the restroom or head to the pavilion.
Once at the pavilion, I see that everyone is buying popsicles. I stare in some sort of yearning hunger and thirst at the people enjoying themselves with such cool refreshment. It’s only a dollar. But I’m fasting. Even if I wasn’t – even if it wasn’t Friday – all my money is in my bag, in the classroom, in the school with teachers yelling at kids to get out.
Fast forward a day or so, and my entire body is sore and in pain. I struggle to climb up the steps of a stadium to watch a basketball game, only thinking about how sore I am and questioning why I am.
It isn’t until the end of the day, when I’m eating dinner at ten at Denny’s, that I realize it was because I pushed myself to run and didn’t get anything to eat or drink soon afterwards.
I fall to the bed at the hotel and finally go to sleep.
Hey! 😁 So, it’s been a while since I’ve posted… anything. But to be honest, I’ve been busy, and I’ve been thinking real hard about what to post. So I went back and remembered posting something about a diary and ended up writing about something that happened a few days ago. The thing is… I didn’t really shape this event like a story 😐 and didn’t realize that until I looked this over but oh well! That’s just how it goes when you’re writing late at night, I guess. Well, hope you all have a lovely day anyway and maybe even a good break from school (because that’s where I’m at now)!~