A letter to a friend

I was never athletic. I suck at all types of sports. I can't hit, throw, kick, or even bowl half way decent. Needless to say, I was the last person anyone would think would become a runner.

I started running three times.

The first two were absolute failures. I remember one day thinking, "Man am I out of shape...I think I'll run." That lasted a week. The second time I tried to start was the weekend of a friends wedding. The wedding party spent Thursday through Saturday at a hotel in Louisville, Ky. A couple people, including my sister, said they were going to get up early and run, so I thought I would go along. That lasted about 30 minutes.

The last time I tried, it finally stuck.

On January 1, 2005 I weighed 200lbs. I found it difficult to play and be active with my children. Going up and down steps was a chore. I would be 38 years old and the constant reminder of my father having a heart attack at age 40 haunted me. Something had to change. I wanted to feel alive, not tired, depressed, and out of breath. My self image was in the toilet. I was worried, deeply concerned. I was in trouble. The truth was...I didn't want to leave my children without a father or my wife without a husband. What I was living was definitely not God's "Plan A" for my life.

I made a decision that day to start exercising and change my eating habits. Luckily we had a treadmill in the basement. I made up my mind that I would walk on that treadmill every morning before my family awoke for 30 minutes. I would keep a journal of the calories I burned, the speed I walked, and the distance I went. I would also write down my weight, what I ate, and how I felt. The first two weeks went well. I began to get bored with walking and sped up the treadmill. I found that I could go farther the faster I went, which intern meant more burned calories. It looked like I might be onto something. The next two weeks...difficult. The kids would get sick in the middle of the night. Something would require me to stay up late so my sleep would suffer. I would feel ill. My muscles hurt. The cards seemed to be stacked against me. I might have quit if not for my sister.

My sister had been running for several years. The kids, Cathy, and I had even gone to root her on when she ran the Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio. Tammy called me and asked if I would be interested in running a half marathon with her the first of May. She assumed that I had been running for awhile, since I had started so long ago (She thought I had been running since the wedding 6 months previous.) I accepted, foolishly, and told her I didn't know how to get ready in 12 weeks for a 13 mile run. By that time I had managed to run upto 3 or 4 miles a day. She mailed me a training guide that showed me step by step what to do each day so that my body would be ready come May.

My sister and I ran the inaugural Flying Pig Half-Marathon in 2 hours and 20 minutes. Our goal was to beat the marathon winner and we did. I did not have any running gear or running shoes. I wore a pair of skechers, tie-dyed long sleeve t-shirt, and an old pair of gym shorts. It didn't matter. I finished. and... I guess you could say that's when I really began.

I am now going on my sixth year of running. I have completed a marathon in 6 states with my best being...the Flying Pig marathon in Cincy. I have dropped my weight to 155lbs at its lowest. I am currently at 175 (I like food too much). I feel good, most of the time. Running is something I have to do. Most people just don't understand that. I have to. Just like people have to eat and breath, people who run have to run. For me it is my alone time. My thinking time. My decompressing time. My praise time. My time with my maker. Most of all, it is the time that God has shown himself to me. I get a glimpse of his awesome being with every step I take.

I had never realized how much running is like our spiritual journey. The parallels are constantly visible. Become a follower is a lot like becoming a runner. I knew my life wasn't right. I was self-destructing. I had tried other things to fix myself to know avail. I had given Christianity a try a couple times before, but really didn't have my heart fully in it. Then one day, the light went on. If I want to truly be the best I can be, I needed to be fully committed to Christ. I took a stand. The first couple weeks were great. The next....very difficult. Everything seemed destined to break my spirit. Luckily for me...someone who had been at this Christianity thing longer and stronger than me came by my side and pulled me through. I'm glad she married me.

Many times I think about giving up. People tell you to quit. The body tells you to give up. Circumstances tell you that it cant be done. I heard a quote from a runner who ran across the Sahara Desert that said..."Running is 95% mental and the other 5% is mental." Be compelled. Capture your mind and your spirit. Renew them daily and anything is possible. Most of all...keep your eye on the finish line.

What if I stumble?

This morning I stumbled.

I left the house prepared for my run. It was a little chilly, but I had the right clothes on. It was 5:00am and pitch black, but I had my reflective gear and my new headlamp so.."no worries". I was pressed for time so I would have to cut my 5 miles down to 4 miles. I'm off tomorrow so I can always add an extra mile on Wednesday. Everything about my run was fairly normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. The weather was fine, my body and mind felt fine, I was doing a route I have done in the dark over a hundred times, probably more.

My new headlamp is the most powerful light I have ever run with. It has three settings; bright, sunburn, and retinal disintegration. I can see everything with it, on most days. Today I was caught off guard. As I was about 1/2 mile from home, on a normal stride, my right foot struck against something along the shoulder of the road. I didn't see it. Even with this floodlight on my forehead, it came out of nowhere. I have no idea what it was, but I almost bit the pavement. Any passer-by probably got a kick out of watching me try to keep my balance and remain in rhythm. I barely escaped disaster on the side of the by-pass.

I have fallen while running before, twice. Each time I wiped out just feet from my house. The first time I fell, I ripped my new running pants and bloodied my knees. The second time I fell I used my gloved hands to absorb the impact. I hit the ground rolled on to my side and got up with bruised, scraped hands and a sore side.

The real question is not will I stumble, but what will I do once I am on the ground. You see, I am positive I will fall again. I am sure it will hurt. I am sure there will be some visible damage, maybe even a little blood. No matter how prepared I am, no matter how cautious I am, I just know it will happen. I also know, that I will take my lumps, get up, and keep going.

Last year was a "year of jubilee" for my household. 2011, we believe, will be a "year of testing". So far....It has been. Everywhere I look I see obstacles in my path. Every aspect of my life has it's stumbling blocks. Every member of my family has something major to work through. Every day something thing comes out of nowhere and tries to trip us up. My concern is not "Is my God big enough for what life throws at me?" but "What if I stumble in the midst of the trial?" Will I make it? Can I get up and keep going?

I may stumble. I may not. God showed me today that I need to keep focused. I need to keep in stride. I need to keep my light shining. I need to keep being prepared. I need to get rid of worry. I need to take what pops up in my path, hit it, and struggle to regain my balance while continuing to move forward. And if the time comes when I do stumble...when I do fall....his love will never stop...even when my run, my walk, becomes a crawl.

"What if I stumble, What if I fall? What if I loose my step and I make fools of us all? Will the love continue when my walk becomes a crawl? What if I stumble? What if I fall?" -DC Talk

What I saw while I ran Sunday morning

I think I know why Jesus would get up early in the morning to talk to his father. Everything seems so new and fresh as the sun comes up. The air is cleaner. It is quieter. The world feels innocent. For some reason, I feel the same way too. New, fresh, clean, quiet, innocent. Thank you for letting me experience you like the morning sun.

A Runners Prayer

God doesn't promise us the complete view of our course only that he will help us with each step we take.

PS. Be patient with the audio. It was extremely windy.

The light

I used to run without a light. When I first started running I didn't really think anything about it. Getting up and running in the dark seemed to come natural to me. I never gave it a thought. Granted I could not see much of anything along my path, nor could anything see me. I was invisible to the world around me and everything was a blur, a shadow to me.

Some runners were adamant that I should use a light. They seemed to be genuinely concerned for my safety. I guess I wasn't running the way I should. Using a light was something that had never even crossed my mind. Apparently they thought that running without illumination was dangerous, reckless, and bordered on foolishness.

Running in total darkness did leave me extremely vulnerable. I couldn't tell what was around me. Any danger lurking around the corner or flying down the road could have easily put an end to my journey. Several times I was almost hit by things along the way. Often I would stumble over an unseen obstacle. I had felt uncomfortable, uneasy, and unsafe. Eventually, I listened to the other runners and realized they were right and I was wrong. I was missing out by doing this thing in "pitch black".

I use a light now. All the time. It really does make a "night and day" difference. It shows me my path. Now, I can see obstacles in my way. I don't fear the road or what I may find on it. Things that come my way know I am present. I am no longer invisible and everything around me takes shape and color. I even clothe myself in reflective gear. Not only do I run with the light, but I reflect the light from anything around me. I want to be seen. I want people to know I am there. I want to stand out. I am not content to just be on the side of the road, running aimlessly in the dark. I want, no need to illuminated and to illuminate.

I am so thankful that people cared enough to show me the importance of running with the light. I am so glad that they told me what I was missing. I am so overjoyed that I have the light now in my life.

The road is still long. The road is still crooked and hilly. The road is still not void of danger. The road is still very difficult at times. With light in my life the road is not a scary place anymore. With the light in my life I can see and be seen. With the light in my life my running takes on a brand new perspective.

Thank you Jesus for lighting my path.

I stepped in what?

Tuesday was a total debacle.

My alarm went off at 5:00am. I forced myself out of bed and headed downstairs with all my running clothes. Keeping all the lights off so as not to wake anyone, I made it to the "little boys room" (the potty). You never know when nature will call, plus it's a habit. My morning duty. As I sat there in pitch black, the phone rang. At 5:00am the phone rang. Have you ever been in the bathroom and have to get the phone? Finish quickly and sprint to answer the call. I was too late. The ringing woke Cathy and she had picked up the receiver. It was the school ..."I regret to inform you that due to inclement weather, school for Tuesday in Mongtomery county has been cancelled."

I should have gone ahead and ran, but nooooo... I thought, "Hey, I can lay in bed for another hour." So I left my running clothes piled on the bathroom floor and crawled back under the covers for another 60 minutes of rest.

My alarm went off at 6:10am. I never actually went back to sleep. Quietly I snuck back down to the bathroom to get my clothes. AHHHHHH!!! What in the world? Why is the floor all wet? Oh no. I stepped in what? I had peed all over the floor earlier when I was going to the bathroom in the the dark. Not only is it on the floor, but I leaked all over my running clothes!! I cannot believe this. I have to scrub the bathroom floor before I can run. First I have to sanitize the john, and then get new clothes. Quietly I tiptoe upstairs, gently opening and shutting drawers, in hopes of keeping everyone asleep. Change clothes, go back downstairs, touch the doorknob and....the dog starts barking. Yap, Yap, Yap!!! Stupid dog. Go back upstairs, let Grizz out of his crate, Dear God am I ever going to get to run? Go back downstairs....the steps are creaking. Let the dog outside to do his business (He better not pee on the floor, I have already had to clean up one mess). Let Grizz back in. Clean all the snow off of him. Finally I can run. I start out the door, walk down my driveway, put my feet to the sidewalk and....

The sidewalk is a solid sheet of ice. I do the splits right in front of my neighbors house. Forget this noise. I go back inside and give up running for the morning. Are you kidding me? Can anything else go wrong? I will run today!! I will!! I don't care what happens. Even if I have to run at midnight, I will run. Bring it on!!! Go ahead put every obstacle in my path, I will hit the pavement. And.. I did. I left the house in the dark at 9:00pm and got in 4 miles. It was so cold I had icicles in my goatee. I was bound and determined to log my miles. Nothing was going to stand in my way. Not even urine.

Too bad I don't treat my time with God with the same resolve. It seems that I allow any slight deviation from my planned day to interrupt or completely negate my worship, my prayer time, my bible study. The kids stayed up too long, somene spilled a drink, homework, bills, phone call, favorite show,....someone peed on the floor. Not enough time in the day to speak with the Creator of the universe. I lie to myself and say, "It's alright, there will always be tomorrow."

The funny thing is when I short change God, when I let whatever I have stepped in push God out my agenda, my day turns out to be a total debacle.

Jesus in Gym Shoes

I run alone.

It's a choice. Many fellow runners have mentioned running together, but my schedule makes is virtually impossible to hook up. I get up at 4:50-5:10am during the week which seems to be just a little bit too early for most. On the weekends, I still get up before the butt crack of dawn, so I am usually done or on the homestretch before most of the local runners head out. I have become used to doing this thing by myself. It's peaceful, uneventful. I become focused on myself, contemplative. The running becomes surreal, almost "out-of-body-ish". I just do it. No cares.

Today was different, special, a privilege. I ran with someone.

Not just anyone, my niece. The experience of running with family, for me, is one of a kind. I have run with my sister, my daughter, and now my niece. Each time I count myself lucky.

This morning, when most college kids were stumbling home from their crazy partying, my 18 year old niece got up at 6:00am to run with her old uncle. The night before, I made sure she had the right clothes to keep her warm because of the 30degree pre-dawn temperature .She's got those goofy toe-running-shoes. Oh and she has three kidney stones, and recovering from a stress fracture last year. I know, crazy. I woke her and we headed out the door for a cold, damp 4 mile run. Then a strange thing happened.

I ran differently. I would check on my niece. I wanted to make sure she was fine. I watched where I stepped. I knew she was unfamiliar with the terrain. I would let her know what mile we were on. I gave her the opportunity to stop at 3 miles instead of 4. I told her when we would be going down hill and up hill. I made sure that she ran farthest from the road. She did not have reflective gear or a headlamp. I would slow down or speed up depending on what her pace was. I became constantly aware that someone was watching me, depending on me, expecting me to lead them on a path and deliver them safely home.

God let me know right away, that is what he does every day...if we let him. He checks on us. He guides our every step. He protects us. He stays by our side.

Not only does God do this, but he expects the same from us. We are called to be "Jesus in gym shoes" for those around us. There is always someone watching us, always someone one step behind us, always someone who needs us to slow down or speed up so they can have a person run this race by their side. To many we are the only way they ever experience God. We are "Jesus in gym shoes." Wow. What a special, daunting, privilege.

I wonder how I am doing at this? Sometimes, not so good. I have become used to doing this thing by myself. It's peaceful, uneventful. I become focused on myself, complacent. The running becomes surreal, almost "out-of-body-ish". I just do it. No cares.

Running the Water Path

I mentioned in a post not too long ago that I did get to run in Haiti. Well sort of. I got to run the path that the villagers took to get water. I wish I could explain to you the profound affect this had had on me. Check out the video of that path, then count your blessings and decide to do something about the condition of our world. (This video is in HD so it takes a little bit to load, be patient..sort of like Haitian time)

Make sure and watch the terrain, rock, dry river bed, cactus....