Holy Run

I praise You. I bless You. I thank You. More times than not these phrases form part of my prayers. When I pray during a run I use the sentences without fail. Like so many other people I find running to be very spiritual. Runs during an out of town trip have become a sacred act of sorts for me.

The four-miler this morning in Izmir, Turkey, felt like a holy run for sure. As I ran and prayed I thought of the long and potent religious history of the region and felt the weight of its existence. I meandered along the Aegean Sea and looked out over the water with admiration, wonder and awe. Engulfed in an emotion best likened to Freud’s Oceanic Feeling, I felt the presence of the eternal all the while contemplating that which I cannot explain.

My prayers and thoughts about the world around me, and appreciation for the sea, which filled the horizon, abruptly ceased as the stark and hallowed Islamic call to prayer pierced the silence of the predawn. I immediately became mindful that my prayers now joined an untold number. Though our prayers were not in the same language the principle remains the same--humans individually and communally yearning for their Creator with praise, blessing and thanksgiving.

Amen and Amen.