A Snail's Pace

I like snails.  I know they ruin people's gardens and they are slimy and not the world's more intelligent creatures, but I like them.  They're slow and simple.  And they come out in droves on rainy days...it's kind of cute.  Their eyeball antennae things bounce into their heads when you gently touch them and slowly re-emerge.  WHY they make 8th graders pour salt on them and watch them bubble to death, is beyond me.  Do any of you remember having to do that?  I fail to see how that's ethical.  Now, I'm no Saint Francis.  I have no qualms squashing spiders in front of my children.  But the intentional act of bringing live snails into the classroom for the sole purpose of teaching what a chemical reaction is by bubbling snails to death?  Gross! I am still (clearly) disturbed by this!  But I digress...

I ran into (quite literally) a snail while I was running on the track the other day.  I know, I must have been "running" quite slowly to even notice the snail.  I've taken to "running" lately.  I've never been much of a cardio lover.  I prefer a leisurely hike or a long walk to anything that actually gets my heart pounding over a long period of time.  But I don't chalk this up to laziness.  It's actually due to my hypochondria.  I secretly fear that I'll be one of those tragic stories in the newspaper...the ones where the young seemingly healthy person drops dead out of the blue.  It's ridiculous, really.  I am a healthy 37 year-old with no reason to suspect I'll die of a sudden heart attack.  But it plagues me, nonetheless...especially when I'm running.

Anne Lamott and I share this in common, which is why she is one of my favorite authors.  She makes me laugh out loud at our shared silly yet sometimes debilitating anxiety.  She calls it tuning into the radio station K-FCKD.  It's one of my most frequent stations.

So I've actually taken to running as a spiritual exercise (physical benefits a bonus).  As I run on the track and I start tuning into K-FCKD, I intentionally let it go.  It often becomes a prayer:  "God, if it's my time, it's my time."  It's a conscious act of surrender.  It truly is facing a fear and doing it anyway, trusting that all will be well no matter what.

The other day, the fire department showed up at the track for their morning workout.  Never have you seen me run so fast and so freely.  Not only were there handsome heroic men nearby, BUT they had their ambulance parked in the lot, so if necessary, they had all their life saving gadgets to rescue me from my premature death.  I smiled and laughed at myself.  It really did make the run easier.  It's like that saying the English have:  I am completely mental.