I arrived in India on a business trip at night and found my way to the hotel fitness center early the next morning. While my marathon-training friends were home anticipating the camaraderie of a 22-mile group run along the Mississippi River, I was jet-lagged in India and beginning my run on a treadmill.
It was still dark outside and I couldn't see anything out of the fitness center windows. The early-morning Muslim call to prayer rang out. I checked out some cricket on a local TV channel - with commentary in Hindi.
The sun started to come up and I could see some of my surroundings out of the windows. A woman who lived in the slum next to the hotel parking lot started her day. She washed clothes and hung them out to dry. I wondered: What are her worries? Is she content?
Soon I could see across the street to make-shift shops. Motorbikes and taxis and lots of small cars honked their way through the streets. I added another empty water bottle to the growing pile next to what had started as the "dreadmill." My meditation in motion continued.
As the sun continued to rise, I could see the surrounding city. A beautiful, modern building was situated right next to a trash dump. Oh my, I had a lot to learn. What should I pray for here? And so it continued on - the observing, reflecting, the praying.
After four-plus hours and 22 miles, I was done. I was calm. And despite what I saw out those windows, I felt bright.
I soaked in all I could from this morning run, the "advent" of my trip. This new place had come into view. Because I packed my faith, I was ready for whatever was ahead. While it was not the manger at Bethlehem, I felt ready to take up the challenge of the journey, looking for hope, love, joy, and peace - and trying to provide some of the same along the way.
It was still dark outside and I couldn't see anything out of the fitness center windows. The early-morning Muslim call to prayer rang out. I checked out some cricket on a local TV channel - with commentary in Hindi.
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| The view from Becky's room |
Soon I could see across the street to make-shift shops. Motorbikes and taxis and lots of small cars honked their way through the streets. I added another empty water bottle to the growing pile next to what had started as the "dreadmill." My meditation in motion continued.
As the sun continued to rise, I could see the surrounding city. A beautiful, modern building was situated right next to a trash dump. Oh my, I had a lot to learn. What should I pray for here? And so it continued on - the observing, reflecting, the praying.
After four-plus hours and 22 miles, I was done. I was calm. And despite what I saw out those windows, I felt bright.
I soaked in all I could from this morning run, the "advent" of my trip. This new place had come into view. Because I packed my faith, I was ready for whatever was ahead. While it was not the manger at Bethlehem, I felt ready to take up the challenge of the journey, looking for hope, love, joy, and peace - and trying to provide some of the same along the way.
Becky Schmidt is a runner, attorney, and mother of twins.
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