It's the simple things.

Sometimes I resort to cliches when I'm not feeling my most creative. But in the past few days, weeks even, this phrase has held especially true, and there's nothing like an easy twenty-minute run to remind you that it really is the simple things in life that are the most spectacular.

Memories are great, and we usually remember the most significant incidents, the most interesting or complicated events in our lives. But the memories I find the most fascinating are the ones that seem to hold the least value, the stories I would never think to tell because no one would care to hear them.

For instance, one pleasant memory that comes to mind is showering in the locker room after morning practices. The conversations my teammates and I held during those showers are long forgotten, but I can recall the pleasantness of them (We had walls to separate us. Get your mind out of the gutter.). I specifically remember The White Gazelle splashing warm water into my shower stall, which usually only produced cold water and was unbearable during the winter months.

I remember talking about the Power Rangers during a longer easy run my freshman year of high school; getting stung by a bee and exclaiming every profane word in the book right before timing my mile the summer before sophomore year; chasing rabbits on the football field while waiting for my coach to set up the track; shielding ourselves from the sun at track meets while sharing food and discussing Jered's latest shenanigans; people-watching and making friends with other runners whom I would never see again; riding out to practices on country roads at six or seven in the morning in silence with my teammates freshman year of college; watching Youtube videos in the hotel room before Conference. 

Even simpler than those are the moments you know you will forget before the end of the run, but are of such significance to you at the time that it's worth sending up a quick praise to the Lord for blessing you with such an opportunity or spasm of joy--the breeze you've been longing for, the hill you just conquered, the old couple taking a walk hand in hand, the beauty of Spring or Autumn, the storm approaching, the kid that tripped over his own feet across the street and looked around to see if anyone noticed, the sweat dripping from your ear lobe or running down your neck.

I don't know about you, but I'm always seeking adventure, looking for a story to tell my friends.However, it's when I stop looking that something finally happens (that's another cliche, isn't it?). What's more, everyone has stories; everyone experiences life in their own ways. But not everyone has silence or a depth of appreciation that reaches further into their souls than the food that reaches their stomachs.

I'll never forget making it to Regionals my senior year of high school. But I'll always cherish the pain that pushed me across the finish line at District just in the nick of time.

Time to re-develop abs of steel.