Their True-ness

She said, “Dad, I think it’s spiritual,” —
his daughter about running along the
trails in the desert places of Arizona —

ten miles, twenty miles, thirty-five
miles — across low lands, up mountains,
across high deserts, through sacred

native lands by invitation. He listened
and nodded. He had about forty-thousand
miles on his legs, three to four miles at

a time for five days a week for forty-
eight weeks a year for forty-five years
mostly on black-topped roads but for the

last fifteen almost exclusively on trails
through the woods and along the shore
of Lake Michigan and on trails in the

Phoenix Mountain Preserve. He talked
with his son in Colorado who only runs
on high altitude trails along the Flat-

irons and says, “Dad, It’s a spiritual
experience.” Father now jogging ever
so slowly, daughter and son running

back ten, twenty, hundreds of thou-
sands of years back, back, back,
back through the low desert, up

the mountain, across high plains,
in the woods, along the river,
lake, sea to a time of their true-

ness — to who they were, who they
are and by the grace of God, who
they will be — eternally.

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