DOWN HOME: Great gratitude on a winter run

Sometimes, skimpy expectations succumb to soaring experiences.

That's what happened the final day of 2011. My buddy Peter and I ran a half marathon—13.1 miles of crisp winter sunshine. It turned out to be the perfect way to inter 2011 and inaugurate 2012. But leading up to the New Year's Double, a 2-year-old race in Allen, I wasn't so sure.

Most road races take place on, well, roads. This course covered the entire distance on sidewalks and concrete trails. All the pre-race information emphasized staying on the path, funneling the runners down to a narrow file. "No more than two abreast at any time. Participants more than two abreast will be disqualified," the race website warned. "The race director reserves the right to disqualify any participant who she deems is creating a traffic disturbance."

Although the New Year's Double attracted only about 700 runners—less than 10 percent of several larger races in the region—I envisioned racers snarled on those skinny sidewalks.

Do you know how hard it is to set a decent pace in a pack of people piled together hip-to-hip and heel-to-toe? The distraction of compaction diminishes the stride to a crawl.

I imagined race marshals yanking runners who ventured on the grass or clotted up more than "two abreast." Fortunately, they relaxed the regulations at the start, and we scooted smoothly.

All the racetime conditions God controlled turned out perfectly—cool temperatures, clear skies, a hint of a breeze. "Doesn't this make you feel blessed just to be alive?"?I asked Peter.

Before long, Peter and I got separated, and I received a tremendous year-end gift—plenty of time to cogitate on 2011, consider 2012 and count my blessings. I mean, 1 hour, 52 minutes and 46 seconds is a whole load of solitude.

You should know I'm not so fast. And I gave up aspirations for athletic ascendancy ages ago. But when I run outdoors, I?feel like one of the most fortunate folks. My hips and knees and heart and lungs still work. The mix of fresh air, mild pain and adrenalin clears my mind. And the time alone with the Lord sends my soul soaring.

As I ran, I thanked God for our grandson, Ezra, born this past year. For the unconditional love of family and the unreserved good humor of friends. For freedom and, despite its current turmoil, democracy. For not just a job, but a calling that never ceases to fascinate and challenge me. For the Baptist Standard and FaithVillage and their potential to impact lives and expand God's kingdom. For laughter and music and Facebook pictures of people I adore. For dinners and quiet evenings with the love of my life, Joanna.

I smiled as I realized I'm often a glass-half-empty guy—the one who expected this race to be congested chaos. So, I thanked God for pleasant surprises and prayed 2012 will turn out as wonderfully as a long run on a winter morning.