Two-Mile Musing: the lane change

After dropping off my son in front of the school for cross-country practice, I headed to the track for a two-mile trek. I parked the truck and pulled on a sweatshirt to keep warm in the crisp air.

As I walked, I noticed things. Sprinklers watered the football field. The sun rose in a clear blue sky. A jogger, running the opposite way, raised a hand of greeting. Last summer, he'd stopped me and pointed out the osprey nesting atop a stadium light pole. But today, no osprey flew in from the river to feed their young. Their nest suffered in Monday's storm.

Change... it's one thing of which we can be certain in this life.

The jogger lapped me. As I rounded the next corner, I started walking into the sun. He jogged around the opposite corner coming down the aisle of sprinklers. That's when I saw another change –– in lighting.

Running through the sun's rays and the sprinklers' spray, the jogger's figure formed an intricate silhouette. He was too quick; and I, too self-conscious, to pull out my camera and capture his oncoming image.

When the cross-country team started their workout – blasting down the track to get to the back-forty trails, I was ready with my camera. Quickly, I snapped a couple shots hoping to capture their illusive forms. To my surprise, I not only caught theirs, but also a sliver of the jogger's. And then, he was gone... finished with his morning exercise.

I continued walking – moving over a lane each time I completed one round – with the goal of eight laps. Halfway down Lane 3, I noticed a tiny plant growing in the middle of the asphalt track.

How on earth could a seed take root under layers of black top? Not to mention: How could it withstand the summer sun heating the pavement to stovetop temperatures?

This plant had adapted to more than change... it had beaten the odds.

I started down Lane 2. The sprinkler's spray crossed over my path. To avoid getting soaked, I changed lanes, jumped onto the football field and then stepped back onto the track.


Tsch. Tsch. Tsch. Tsch. Tsch. Dribble...

During my last lap, the timer stopped the sprinklers.


With this change, my steps grew louder; my thoughts, clearer. Like life, two miles go quickly with each lane change.