Healing Sneakers

A normal sight when we are at camp, Mira observing the neighborhood

It's been a crazy week.  I have tried to write every day, but the words I put down were dark, bleak and came from a place of sorrow.  I don't live in sorrow or self pity; it was really uncomfortable in that place, so I left the page blank.  My unusual mood of gloom came about after our vacation abruptly ended the same day we started it this week.  On Saturday morning we left to spend vacation  in Missouri.  Dave, Maddie, Mira and I were headed out in the RV, towing the Enclave.  Destination; home, family and friends.  Our vacation ended late Saturday afternoon in a hail storm in New Baden, IL.  It came up rather quickly as we were driving on I-64 in Illinois. Roadside is not a safe place to be in a storm, especially in an RV - somehow it seems they were designed to fly, and not stay anchored onto the ground during high winds.  I have never experienced a storm of this force from a place that caused every cell in my brain to scream "danger, get out of here, you have to get away from this place".  Thankfully, no funnel clouds touched down and the once the storm passed, we were able to retreat to the safety of the home of dear friends.  Two more storms that night caused us to go to the basement once and watch from a window helplessly the second time as hail yet again slammed into the roof of our RV.  But we were safe now, not sitting on the edge of the freeway, but tucked away in a solid home with a basement.

After a close evaluation of both vehicles Sunday morning and heart to heart talks with my parents (who are also RV'ers), we determined that it was in our best interest to head back to Georgia and begin the repair process.  Damage is significant to both the RV and the Enclave.  We know how much worse this all could have been and we are grateful that everything can be put back together.  There is no loss, other than precious time with my family.  That is the place that continues to grow dark within me.  I have been stirred to tears every day this week knowing that I never was able to get home, to embrace my parents and sister or see our friends as we had been planning for months.  That loss has been what has driven my mood this week.  The business of making claims and coordinating the process of repair and rebuild have probably helped me to keep my sanity this week.

Some of the softball size dings

It will be two weeks before the repairs can be finished on the Enclave and it will likely be over a month on the RV.  They are replacing the roof and hood on my truck as well as repairing hail dings on the other areas of the vehicle. The RV body came through pretty well, but both the rubber roof and the underlying wood roof must be replaced as hail shattered through both layers.  We began the claims process first thing Monday morning on both vehicles, today we received notice that the reviews on the RV have been completed and approved.  The repairs on the Enclave were started Thursday after extensive inspection and a damage audit was completed.

Physically, we incurred no injuries.  Although, the speaker covers falling from the ceiling of the rig during the storm could have caused a bump or bruise, there were really no other potentially harmful occurrences.  There was an incredible amount of force behind that storm, we are so lucky to be unharmed.  Mental damage, well there's another story.  Sudden loud noises make my stomach flip and my hair stand on end from my neck down my arms.  Thunder gently rolling in the distance yesterday evening brought tears to my eyes. 

I have said before that whatever ails me can be cured by a run with my dog.  I am right, even this can be cured with the freedom of being on the road with Mira or Maddie next to me.  Striding over speed bumps and counting mailboxes between walk breaks somehow takes my mind to a place of peace, and all the crazy thoughts that race through it otherwise are left behind.  It is the only time that I can completely lose myself in the moment.  All I see when we are running are the mechanical movements of the run and the antics of the dogs.  I breathe the air, and my senses dance, (or gasp, depending on allergies), to the surrounding landscape.  Each run this week has left me feeling lighter, maybe it is coincidental because time heals, but I believe my sneakers and dogs are helping me move beyond the disappointment and fear.

If I could run enough, I could heal this thing and leave it behind me.  Tomorrow is another day and another run, another tear dried.

Maddie is our greeter when you open the door to the RV