I was driving across the bridge this evening when I saw a dead animal lying in the middle of the road. My windows were rolled down and, without much thought, I inhaled deeply… partially waiting to catch the familiar smell of some living-impaired animal, but mainly holding my breath to avoid it. I’m not attracted to the smell, but I think after such a long time of working in a job so void of passion, I was just searching for something authentic and real. Even if it was covered in dirt.

I was looking for some way to realize that there was really a difference between death and life. I didn’t even realize I was searching for it until I found myself inhaling the aroma of a dead carcass while speeding along the highway. And that night, for some reason, the aroma had an intoxicating effect on me. I suddenly saw life and death and time. I saw everything I wanted to accomplish and realized what it was that was standing in front of me.

It was me.

I rushed home and changed into my shorts and t-shirt and drove to the base of the steepest hill in town that I’ve been talking about running for the past three years, but never have (In Central Illinois a steep hill means going from sea level to an elevation of about 700′ in a half mile). I ran all the way to the top. Not jogged. Not walked. Ran.

I don’t think I’ve ever run so intensely before. My legs were burning. Sweat was running into my eyes. My feet were screaming. I could hardly breathe without collapsing.

I’m finally discovering life …beyond life.