The Pebble

Not sure how it happened, but this morning as I finished 2/3 of my morning run, a pebble got in my shoe. I suppose it occurred as I ran along the highway where the road meets the land and the man-made material moves into nature leaving behind loose pebbles and rocks along the way. And one of those little guys jumped into my shoe, making me quite uncomfortable.

I kept going and the pebble moved as I moved. Sometimes under the large toe but other times within the empty spaces between the toes or under the arch, the pebble kept altering positions. Several steps later it would move again somehow landing in the wrong spot for any kind of comfort. Comfort is an unusual word in running since there is virtually nothing comfortable about the process. Pain accompanies virtually every motion and between the huffing and puffing, aching legs, and hurting muscles I did not know existed, it seemed silly to worry about a little pebble.

Yet every few steps there was the pebble again. Painful enough to announce its presence but not quite bad enough to warrant stopping to remove it. So I kept plugging away with the end getting nearer and the pain increasing. Imagining sitting on a curb, removing my shoe, emptying the shoe of the little demon but also knowing the challenge of standing up again, I elected to keep going. In my advancing years, I have developed a problem with standing up from a place near the ground. This is primarily why I prefer a standing desk and why I can run more easily than play games on the floor.

The goal of completing my run was greater than the vicious little culprit I began to call Lucifer could cause. It kind of reminded me of the old story about the man who spent a cold night on a mountain who watched a fire several miles away and imagined himself near the fire all night long. Could my imagination conquer the reality? Maybe.

Finally seeing the domicile and knowing I could soon stop, I began to relish the idea of removing the shoe, seeing Lucifer in the flesh so to speak, and defenestrating him forever. Into the house I entered huffing and puffing but oddly joyful the experience was over, I sat on the chair and removed the shoe. I walked to the trash can and decided to empty the shoe in my hand, smile evilly at Lucifer and say goodbye. Expecting the item to sneer or attack in some way, I looked in my hand and saw a tiny little pebble. Without any histrionics, I threw it away, reflecting how ironic that such a small, insignificant pebble could create such emotional turmoil. There is some kind of a lesson in all this that needs no further articulation. Thus ends the pebble in the shoe for today.