Some Days Are Just Like That

 

Yesterday I was running east of town, on the shoulder of US highway 64. It is the main road in and out of town, a two-lane highway with a wide paved shoulder and for the most part having a speed limit of 55, although in some sections it is lower. I run along this highway a lot, mostly because it is the closet thing around here to a road that is paved, fairly flat and with a decent shoulder.

When running on the highway I have a number of rules that I follow, for my own safety and also the safety of the drivers. I run facing traffic. If there is an oncoming car I move to the shoulder. If there is an oncoming semi-truck I move farther over, off the edge of the shoulder. It there is ice on the shoulder and a car or truck is coming by I make a complete stop, as I also do for trucks if I am in an area where a guardrail is, or if a truck will be passing me while we are both on the inside of a curve. If I hear a vehicle coming up behind me I move to the shoulder. Even though that vehicle should be a full lane away from me the truth is that if one vehicle is passing another I won’t hear the second vehicle, the one near to me, until virtually the moment it goes by. If there is a snow plow I come to a full stop and go to the opposite side of the highway as the plow. Plow drivers have enough on their minds without worrying about pedestrians.

Those are the basic rules I follow, not just on the highway, but on any road I run on here in Dulce. If it is dark I may use a headlamp and in darkness or bad weather I also wear a neon reflective vest or jacket.

In November, 2019, I was running in town near the elementary school about the time kids were being dropped off. Because of the traffic volume I tend to avoid that place and time of day but for whatever reason on this particular day, there I was. I was being particularly careful at the curve of the road and where the drivers were turning in/out of the school. After going past the school, which is basically at the edge of town, I went about another four miles and then turned to come back home. That day I was about three miles into my return when an outbound pickup stopped and a man gave me a neon vest to wear. As best I could guess, someone among the school traffic was concerned for my safety and had sent him out with the vest. He said something about appreciating what I did in the community and no one wanting to see me get hurt while running. Since then I have worn a reflective vest nearly every time I’ve gone to run.

All of which brings us up to yesterday’s run. I was east of town, heading home, when I heard a vehicle behind me. It was slowing down, way down. I was just passing a business and presumed the driver was going there, but as it turned out she was coming to a stop to talk with me, and to give me something. She handed me a pair of neon reflective pants, the kind worn by people working on highway construction crews. I tried to decline her offer but she was concerned for my safety out along the highway, saying something like “We don’t want you to get hurt, Pastor.”  So I thanked her as I took the pants, and she drove off, into town.

For the rest of the run, and sporadically since then, I have mulled one question over and over, without finding a good answer. What on earth am I to do with those pants?

They are good pants for a construction crew, or perhaps being in the woods during hunting season, but they are not really good for running in. Too baggy. And I am a runner who really would prefer fewer and/or lighter clothes to run in.

The woman meant well, and I appreciate her concern for my safety, along with her implicit regard for the way my ministry is present in the community. I’ve learned, here, the hard way, about declining a gift merely because I knew I didn’t really need it at the time. But given that I run outside every day this woman, whom I do not know and very likely would not recognize, will see me, without the pants she gave so that I could be safer, at least from her point-of view. And so I also have the problem of how not to offend this person through not using the gift she gave to me?

And now I am over 800 words into this blog post, with no theological insights, no sense of how to conclude my thoughts, and no acceptable answer to the question of what to do with those pants. I guess some days are just like that.