Conscious Choice: Sacred Running

February 2005 | BackWords

Sacred Running

Sometimes the best path forward is to turn back while the rest of the world rushes by

by Blaine Rada

The coldest air of the season had descended on the Chicago area and the temperature was in single digits, with the wind chill below zero, when I left my house at 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning to go on my weekly long run.

I was looking forward to running on the paved bike path that runs through forest preserve land from Brookfield to Western Springs. I don’t usually get to run on this path in the winter because of the snow and ice, but on this day the ground was bare. Bundled up with only my face exposed and holding a water bottle filled with an energy drink, I ventured into the cold.

The energy I felt as soon as I left the house wasn’t quite right, and it was one of those mornings when I knew that something odd might happen. Surprisingly, there were quite a few people driving around so early in the day.

I couldn’t wait to get to the woods, even though it was still dark, because I’m very comfortable there. I’ve been running in this area since moving here 14 years ago, and I’ve never had any problems on the bike path; it’s usually just me and nature, especially at this time of day.

After running for about an hour, it was getting light, and I was pleased with how warm I felt. I came to a point on the path where it crosses a busy, four-lane street, and noticed a deer sitting on the other side of the road. I frequently see deer on these runs and usually stop to admire them and say some kind words. As I got closer to the deer, it tried to get up, and at that point I realized it had been hit by a car and couldn’t stand. It looked like one of its front legs was broken, and there was a small amount of blood on the road. I assumed someone with a cell phone would drive by and call the police, so I said a prayer for her and continued on my way. I ran for a couple of minutes, thinking about the deer, and tears came to my eyes.

I knew I had to turn back. I knew that if I were lying on the side of the road dying, I would want some comfort. I wouldn’t want everyone to just pass me by as if nothing was happening or there wasn’t anything that could be done. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was going to do something.

When I got back to her, I looked around, trying to figure out what I could do. My biggest concern was that she was going to get hit by another car; she was partially in the road and cars travel down this street at 40 or 50 mph. As I approached the deer, she again tried to move, so I stood next to her and kept talking to her, speaking in as calming a voice as I could. I noticed that there was a considerable amount of debris on the road from the car that had hit her. I also noticed she was bleeding from her mouth, so it wasn’t likely that she was going to live through this. I decided to stand in the street and motion for the passing cars to move to the next lane.

I was amazed at how fast people were driving by, and I got the impression that my standing in the road irritated them. As cars approached, they had no idea why I was in the road, but as they passed I thought they would see the deer and that someone would call for help. Several minutes and several cars went by and no one seemed to be doing anything, so I started gesturing that I needed a cell phone as people passed. Between cars I knelt down next to the deer, and she allowed me to place my hand on her head. As soon as I made physical contact with her, she made a big sigh and seemed to relax. I started transmitting Reiki and she would occasionally start to put her head down toward the ground, only to raise it up just before getting all the way down. She wasn’t ready to let go.

Finally, a woman pulled over and asked if I wanted her to call the police.

I said yes as she discovered the cell phone she had left in her car all night was dead. She said she would drive down the road to a gas station and call from there. I continued my efforts to direct cars away from the deer and comfort her as best I could. The woman returned and said the police were on their way. A female police officer arrived shortly and told me she would probably have to drag the deer into the woods and shoot it. I said she should do whatever she needed to do, but that I didn’t want the deer to get hit by another car. I told the officer I would stay until her backup arrived. While she moved her car to block the oncoming traffic, I told the deer that it had been a privilege for me to be there with her and wished her Godspeed on her journey.

A second police officer arrived and the two officers had a discussion away from the rest of us (“us” now included a woman who lived nearby). The female officer came back and said that neither of them had the heart to shoot the deer and they had called for another officer who was a deer hunter. I thought about the fact that here were two police officers who were trained to kill, if necessary, and neither could kill the deer. I had thought all police officers liked to shoot guns, but I guess that isn’t true.

As we were waiting for the “deer hunter” to arrive, a man pulled up and said his wife was the person who hit the deer. She had gone to a police station to file a report and her car was quite damaged, but she was OK. Now that there were two squad cars with flashing lights and several people standing in the road, people were actually slowing down as they drove by. When it was just the deer and I, I thought they were going to run me over.

The third officer arrived, and after looking at the deer, said she was probably pregnant due to her size. I cringed at the thought of another life being taken, but I knew that’s what had to be done. He asked that those of us who were standing around go about our business, so I picked up my now-frozen energy drink and started running again.

After standing around for so long, I was really cold and my hands and feet hurt. I was wondering if I’d warm up enough to be able to get back home or if I’d have to call my wife to get picked up, when my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gunshot. About 10 seconds later I heard another shot … it was over.

The tears came back to my eyes, but I was glad that I turned back and did something about the situation. Having the deer accept my touch and help is something that I’ll never forget, and as I thought about the whole ordeal I started to feel energized.

I felt like I could keep running and running, but I knew that by this time I would have been back home and my family was probably concerned about me. I found a pay phone and called home to let them know what had happened and that I was OK. I’d be home when I finished the run I had started. I ended up running farther that day than I had run in a very long time, and I still feel a surge of emotion whenever I think of the experience.

Whenever I pass the spot that I shared with the deer that morning, whether I’m driving, biking, or running, I say a prayer. It has become a sacred place to me.

Blaine Rada has been running on a regular basis for over 20 years and will continue to run as long as his body allows. Running has been a source of physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual strength and he considers it a privilege to be able to run outdoors as much as he does.

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