Katahdin 100 Penobscot Spiritual Journey 2009...

Katahdin 100 Penobscot Spiritual Journey 2009... The journey... Where to start... Up at 4:45am. Who sleeps knowing they have to get up THAt early? Damn the alarm. Scurrying about. Coffee. Yaaay. Eggs for protein. Pie for love. Doing the 'idiot check' to make sure nothing is forgotten. (3 hours into the journey, we realized we forgot one thing. The little chocolate donuts. Breakfast of champions. DAMN) Squeezing running shoes over my swollen bashed up right foot. Shoulda known not to balance my drum inside the tailgate of the van. Just a wee chunk of little toe & few ounces of blood lost after the mighty fall from 6feet high to my bare foot. Not a happy event the eve before running. Ignore it, it'll be nonexistant. Off to the sacred fire as the sun rises over the river. Sage & sweet grass offerings. Words of hope & intention. For Peace, For Love, For Messages, For Thanks, For All My Relations. Ajo. Smoky breath. Pounding feet. Friends. One heart. One body running like a river. Together 2 miles off the Rez. The running stick whispering a beat. A horn, a shaker, eagle feathers, ribbons, carvings. Passed down over many journeys. Then two cross the bridge. Off the rez. The rest of us readying for our turns. Then Brilliant skies. Huge white clouds. Turning trees. Green to red. An eagle with the whitest head. Watching. The river like a mirror. Paved roads. Then dirt. Cheering. Joy. Then Pain. Frustration. Tears. Stubbornness. Sweat. Hugs. Laughter. Huge hearts. More pain. "I can't stop running. I want to go on. My mind & heart are fine." My bad knee says otherwise. It gives out. "I haven't yet gotten my message. I have to keep running!" "Haven't you gotten your message? You can't do this. You can do something else." "We need music too." So I play flutes & drum. But I keep trying to run. Because that is most difficult. And I am pigheaded. The other is easy. So I run in stubborn bits. But most of all, I am humbled & moved by Dale, Larry, Katrina, Judd, Bob & Eric who are able to run almost effortlessly (though they will swear otherwise) , but they still cheer me through my pitiful stumbling. 100 miles. Almost 15 hours. The last the most beautiful. In the dark on the mountain in the smoke of our breath. We all ran in together. One lone echoing drum beat. And the almost full moon filled up the sky, through the silhouettes of the trees. Our feet on Katahdin. And the real unsung were there. Welcoming us. They didn't run. They brought gifts of food & heart & temporary home... Tents & fire & dinner & music were waiting. And everyone would have thought we were the big deal. We were the runners. But really... They were the big deal. Sometimes the least shiny thing is way larger. If you don't/can't do one thing. You can always do something else. Thank You My Friends! One and All. For your Largeness & your Hearts & Your Wisdom.

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