muddyStairs

this past weekend i went running, i spent an entire hour getting there by bus-spent time with an old neighbor of mine and said hello to a few friends. i left with my bankcard, buspass& walkman and cellphone; i had on 4pockets divided between my pants and my overdressed cardigan. i thought i saw rainclouds by the time i had started my workout i realized i was completely and utterly overdresssed.(we got the rain i was dressed for yesterday-today, duh!) i jogged down to the end of the pier took thecorner and lost everything but my keys and cellphone my bankcard and buspass had fallen out when i went sprinting

i pickedup my phone& began retracing my steps. starting with calling my friend, asking anyone coming from the direction-i had just sprinted. a kind woman with a stroller told me she saw something but didn't stop. i backtracked& there was my bankcard& buspass. it's Hope. minutes later i also had my cellphone popout of my pocket, luckily i met a kind woman that told me she lost her weddingring in 6feet of sand& needed a metal detector to find it. we backtracked and there it was-Hope. my cellphone was@ the bottom of the stairs.

Hope is like that, it's when there's nothing else is. When I ran my oldloop something, i began doing a fewyears back with a brokenheart; my 1st blog is dedicated to my mistake. running down the marina, sprinting stairs was how i coped when i felt like the world was crashingdown. to me chasing lookout points and beating myown time has been how i cope when i want to lashout in anger. wheni went running yesterday, i wasn't running because i was upset or angry iwas chasing oldghosts.

i stood after retrieving everything i thought i had lost after doing my first staircase 3times; some might call this dedication, or stupidity or both. i walk along a dirttrail rarely used and found this spot, where i'd cry when looking@ the olympic mountains. i wasn't upset; i stood watching clouds covering the passes like a vail, lookingout over the park. i was relieved. i still love how mudclings to my runningshoes, how i run a staircase that was most likely built '50years ago.

i thought i hadlost this essential part of my soul, this muddystaircase, running along masts with 60year old women that still goto tanningbeds; men that chase each other around with 25footers& in another life raced the america'scup. i was chasing the oldghosts of me the pieces i thought i had lost. eachstep i took was Hope. i remember when i found it sometime last fall-when everything felt like it had ripped through my soul like an avalanche.

i may have lost my cellphone, my bankcard& buspass-but i had hope that it was still lying on the square cementblock i had just sprintedpast. i was greeted by my oldself& remained intact. i reached the end of my run and there was thebus-waiting. i saw a dragon on an arm; a small gift of that precious thing that can't be bought. Hope. it sits in my backpocket-it has given me my laughter& joy back. i smile& i take one small step forward-that's what Hope is EveryDay. it is seeing the peaks of the mountains even when clouds are out. it's not givingUp-it's in the embrace of hugs& smiles& eyes that sparkle when you lookinto them in unexpected places.