Lady Traveler : Lady on the Run

Lady on the Run

Lady on the Run
will show and tell you how to run your

physical race and your spiritual race--

at your own pace!

You cannot discover new roads until

you are willing to lose sight of your front door

My running years began in the 70's
I was so committed to running that
I even cut my waist-length hair.

I joined the running craze in my 30's,
not realizing how it would change my life.

Before long, I had a following of ladies who wanted to
discover new roads with me,
so I was invited to lead a running class.

Before long, the ladies wanted to join me in their
first 10K run (6.2 miles).

And before long, we were on the road to victory,
helping each other every step of the way.

My first 10K run in Los Angeles CA in the 70's.
We crossed the finish line in the L.A. Coliseum!

Mary (54) and me (32) the day we ran our first half-marathon at
The Rose Bowl in So-California

Read all about the 70's running craze in my upcoming novel,

Lady on the Run

(based on my true story)

... let us run with patience the race that is set before us.

Hebrews 12:1

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Comfort or Challenge? Decisions that direct your journey

I was living a comfortable life in Southern California when the opportunity came for my husband and I to volunteer on a World War II ship to transport Russian Jews from Sochi, Russia, to Haifa, Israel. Rob jumped at the chance to live on a World War II ship for 14 months, but this 48-year-old lady panicked. You see, I couldn't swim, so I had to face my biggest fear--water. Sailing across the Atlantic was my worst nightmare, so I had to make the decision: Comfort, or CONFRONT my fear. Comfort, or step up to the CHALLENGE. After much prayer and inner conflict, I inhaled a deep breath of faith, waved farewell to my safe shore, and dived into a new ocean.

I had gotten my sea legs by day four, when out of nowhere, off the gulf of Mexico, the MS Restoration caught the tail-end of Hurricane Hector. Panicked, I dropped my cleaning bucket and staggered to our cabin and jumped in my bunk. My life jacket fell from the rafter above, so I grabbed it, wrapped it tightly around me, and prayed as I fastened each buckle. If I had been Catholic, this would have been the perfect time to repeat the rosary. Instead, I cried out, "God, help me! Remember, I can't swim!"

As the ocean's surge tossed the ship with a vengeance, my Bible fell off an overhead shelf and landed on my bunk. With trembling hands I thumbed through the pages until I stopped at Isaiah 43. I tried drowning the sound of the waves beating against steel by shouting, "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you." While the Pacific raged, it was God's peace that flooded me, and I knew we would somehow survive Hector.

I had read this scripture before, but it had never given me as much comfort as it did that day at sea. I love how God gives us the right words of encouragement at just the right moment.

Now, back home on dry land, whenever I feel challenged, I recall the sound of the ocean's mighty roar, and I quote Isaiah 43:16, and once again, I am at peace.

A Season for Love...my short love story

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

For the single, for the lonely, there is hope, and a season.

Here is my seasonal love story:

The year, 1984. Forty-one-years-old. Two failed marriages. The recent loss of my beloved Mother. 1987, life didn't look too promising. After working all day, I'd come home, and after a three-mile run and a cold shower, I'd indulge myself in my latest adventure-filled book. But this night I threw the book across the room. "God, please tell me there's more!" Then the phone rang. It was my friend, Tia, begging me to accompany her to a new singles meeting at a nearby church.

"I don't want to go alone," Tia moaned. After surviving her own divorce, she was tired of dating too many I-like-you-I'll-call-you guys. That's why I'd given up dating months ago. Stop-looking-and-let-God was my new motto, thus the reason for my nightly runs and cold showers. Tia, on the other hand, had been visiting churches with large singles ministries. "You have to go with me," Tia pleaded, so what could I say?

So the next night Tia headed for the front row. I insisted on the seats nearest the back door. I yawned as a young slightly-built blonde announced their upcoming March beach trip, and I glanced at my watch as the mild-mannered speaker closed the meeting. The only intriguing part of the evening was a tall, tanned, blue-eyed man wearing cowboy boots who was giving directions and moving chairs. Stop-looking-and-let-God I reminded myself. It didn't matter anyway. I had no plans of returning.

The following Thursday night I was half way out the front door for my evening run when the phone rang. "Ignore it," I whispered, but something inside said, Answer it.

"I'm Rob and I'm calling to thank you for attending our meeting last Friday night." Within minutes we were talking like we knew each other. Now I was curious.

"Are you the guy in the cowboy boots?" That made my heart skip a beat?

"Guilty," he answered.

My heart began to pound as I dove in. I had nothing to lose. "I was married sixteen years."

"I was married sixteen years too."

"I have a twenty-year-old daughter."

"So do I."

This will cause the conversation to come to a screeching halt. "I also have a thirteen-year-old son," I added.

"Me too."

An hour later he asked, "Will you come to our meeting tomorrow night?"

What could I say?

The next evening I scoped the room, but the cowboy was nowhere in sight. I turned to make my exit, but as my shaky hand pushed the door handle, a voice inside said, Don't leave! I reluctantly found a seat on the back row, and unknowingly, the handsome cowboy sat in front of me. I tapped his shoulder. I had nothing to lose.

"Are you Rob?"

"Yes. Are you Sharon?"

I nodded.

I returned that night to check out the stranger who invaded my life over the telephone. Little did I know that the next season of my life had just begun.

I proposed a year later.

What could he say?

A major moral to this story: Always answer your phone. You never know who is on the other end.

(For more details, read LADY and the SEA, a novel based on a true story--mine. www.sharonleaf.com. Available on Amazon.com and e-books.

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Lady on the Run

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