Nasty, Nasty, Nasty

"You are a disgusting running partner." That is what my wife said to me today after we ran together this morning. Apparently I am a little bit to gross for her. She's telling the truth, I am pretty sickening. When it comes to logging my miles, I can be nasty, nasty, nasty....but only for the first couple of miles. Cathy and I never run more than three miles together. She is pleased with this mileage and I love running with her. Even if I am scheduled to go 5 or 6, if CJ wants to run, then I will run three miles that day. The problem is that it takes me a couple of miles to get warmed up. By warmed up I mean all necessary bodily functions preformed and out of the way.

In the first mile I fart, burp, blow my nose, hack up loogies, sneeze, cough...you name it I do it. I cant seem to help it. When I get outside and my heart starts pumping, I breathe in that morning air and its like taking a high dose decongestant/laxative/gas tablet. I let it all lose!! Usually this is not an issue because I am alone and in the dark. No one is around to hear or see what is going on. Not today. Today, Cathy was with me. I just ran like I normally would. Let it all hang out. Yeah, It was nasty.

I hope you are not like me; all nasty when you are alone or in the dark and expect to be different when your with people or in the light. It becomes a habit, you know. The grossness takes over. Eventually it will seep out into the daylight. You just do it because its the way you always have done it. One day, when you are with loved ones, you will let it slip out. Or maybe, you will just do it and not even care. Either way it will not be pretty.

God doesnt want us to be like that. He wants us to be faithful and steadfast. He wants us to be pure and honest. Our deeds done in the dark will be revealed in the light. He, after all, is the light. What we do and say is on outpouring of what is in our hearts. I hope your heart isn't full of snot, because that would be just plain old nasty.

One man's trash...

Today I got to sleep in, that is if you count 7:00am sleeping in. Usually if I'm going to run it has to be about 5:00 in the morning. That way I can log my miles and still be home before my family has to get up. November 8th is election day in Kentucky and school is cancelled. In order for my children to be supervised and not run around like wild hooligans, I had to take a day off (My wife has a big to-do at her work today). Taking a day off for me means getting a few extra winks and running in daylight.

I like leaving the house at sunrise. Rarely do I get a chance to soak up my surroundings. Running in pitch black does have its draw backs, all you can see is just a few steps in front of you or silhouettes under street lights. Today, however, I could take in everything around me. What stood out to me was a little disappointing. Trash. Trash everywhere. Garbage of all shapes and sizes. It totally amazed me at all the crap on the side of the road, on the sidewalk, in peoples yards. I'm not a litter bug and it drives me crazy if someone tosses stuff out of their car window. When I see that happen I want to go all "Mad Max" on them and blow up their car (in a Christian kind of way).

Looking at all the items started to depress me. You see all the usual stuff that you expect to see; cigarette packs, pop cans, paper, plastic bottles, DQ moolate cups. Then I noticed that some of this "junk" really wasn't "junk" at all. It was still good. Still useful. Hey! There is a funnel. I don't have a funnel, I need it. That iPhone case looks brand new. Granted it does have a butterfly on it, but someone would like it. To bad I have a 3GS, it wont fit mine. A returnable Ale-8 bottle. What idiot would toss that? That's like throwing money away. Discarding things that still has value. What are these people thinking?

Everyday I come in contact with people that many would call "trash". Drug users, alcoholics, abusers, liars, cheaters, freaks, slackers of all shape and size enter and leave my life every minute of every day. A lot of times I get caught up in labelling these people as just objects. But they are living, breathing souls. Creations of God that people use and toss aside when they are finished with them. Many have been told since they were old enough to hear that they are worthless, useless, garbage. These people are not "junk" to be chucked out of the window when society deems them used up. They are human beings loved by a jealous God. And they are not just loved, but they are also sacred to him. Sacred. Holy. Full of potential and purpose.

One day my wife threw away a Barbie play box because it was ripped and dirty. I pulled it out of the trash can, cleaned it up and sold it for $30.00 on eBay. Everything has value, a Barbie play box, a funnel,....people.

It nice to know that what is one man's trash is God's treasure.

Great Expectations

Today I expected to run 6 miles in the afternoon. That didn't happen. What did happen?

Small group discussion on emotional healthy spirituality. Finding letters to my daughter from her baptism. Going through a dress-up box. Helping my son find his Nintendo DS (it was in the basket...Dad, I looked in the basket). Took our daughters to youth. Cooked Sunday dinner. Did dishes. Went to the groceries. Threw paper airplanes. Rode bikes in town. Taxi kids from small group. Scan papers for my wife. Oh yeah....Ran 3 miles.

I thought my day would be quite and lazy. I had a picture in my mind of how every hour would play out. If I would have had it my way I would have missed out on so much. Playing with my son. Chasing each other with paper airplanes. Talking to friends you meet while going for a bike ride. The chance to serve my wife and my children. I would not have met and had a chance to encourage two high school boys as I brought them back from a small group meeting. I would have never had these chances to show God's love if the day had gone as I had drawn it up.

You see, what I expect of my life and what God has planned for my life are completely different. I guess you could say they are miles apart. At least 3 miles today.

Nightmare

A good morning run helps make up for a bad night.

My pre-dawn run today was much needed....very much needed. Last night I had a horrible nightmare. Bad dreams are things I rarely ever have. Really, I can only remember one recurring nightmare as a child, something about a monster coming to get me. Pretty traumatic for a 6 year old. When the creature would get to me I found that I couldn't scream. I couldn't run. Can you believe it...I couldn't run. My wife and I feel wholeheartedly that the evil one tries to attack our little ones in the dream. I think he also goes after adults. He has left me alone for a long time, until last night.

I hesitate to tell you the exact details of this terrible dream because it had to do with my father's death. My brothers and sister and I are still grieving the loss of our parents and I don't believe that will subside anytime soon. Their deaths are still so near. We miss them both very much and express it in our own unique way. Therefore out of love for my siblings I will not share all the details, just know that it in no way put my parents in a bad light. What it did was to make me realize that my dad was gone. I tried to wake up, but couldn't. I tried to move, but couldn't. I tried to run but couldn't. I tried to scream, but could only get out muffled noises. I laid there in my bed and wanted to yell for help, wanted to cry out in agony, but my body wouldn't obey.

My words began to take shape, to take form until at last my groanings awoke my wife. Cathy touched me, held me. She asked me what was wrong. Shaking, crying I told her "My dad is dead." Cathy, gently and with infinte wisdom, whispered, "Oh no honey, Your dad is alive."

My dad is alive. My dad is alive!

As I ran this morning, I got a shiver down my back as I relived the nightmare. It was so vivid. So real. Then the cool air hit my face and my foot falls began to strike a melody on the pavement. I could see my breath form in front of me. I could hear my heart beating as I ran. It was like a symphony. A musical movement brought to life by the run. Life all around me, visible in my breath, audible in my beating heart.

Thank you God for your saving grace. Thank you, that through you we live and breath. Thank you, that through you we have eternal life. Thank you, that through you I will never perish. Thank you. Because of you my dad is alive. Thank you.

My biggest mistake

I truly enjoy running. That of course if evident or why else would I have a blog dedicated to the spiritual aspects of "running". One of the worse things about loving something so much is that you want everyone to experience the same exhilaration, the same sense of accomplishment, the same joy that you get from that thing. How can anyone not like running? It's the greatest thing since sliced bread.

I have tried to get my family involved with my favorite past time only to fail. This year I thought that I had figured out how to get all three of my children and my wife to hit the pavement. In lieu of any Fathers Day gifts, I asked them to all run a 5K with me in late summer. They knew that it meant running/walking about five times a week. They knew that they would have to increase from 1/4 mile to over 2 miles before the 5K. They agreed.

They ran/walked on the treadmill on days over 90 degrees. We would all go to the track on cooler days. We all worked on getting our mileage (or footage) up to where it would be feasible to run 3.1 miles with some ease. They did fuss on occasion. Flat out said they couldn't do it on some days. Surprised me by their times on other days. Truthfully, I believe they were prepared for a 5K earlier than we where shooting for. Much earlier.

In the middle of our training we went to Isle Of Palms, South Carolina for vacation (near Charleston). It just so happened that on the first full day we would be there, the city was sponsoring a 5K on the beach. How cool is that???!! We were ready. We would have the chance of running in the early morning with sea oats on one side and the ocean on the other. Their beach is very long, flat and fairly hard for being sand. This could not have played out any better. We would run our race together on the beach.

This turned out to be the biggest mistake of my running career. Granted my family upheld their Father's Day promise, and we did all run a race together, however....I would never wish this on anyone. My kids were absolutely miserable. They HATED it. Totally had no fun at all. "I'm dying!! I'm going to be sick. I have to poop. My stomach is killing me. You said we would do this in August and this is just July. You don't love me. I have asthma. It's to hot. I can't run in this sand." What had I done? This is terrible on so many levels. I thought one of my daughters would pass out, the other throw up, and my son just sit down in the sand and pout and cry.

The thing I love. The thing I want my family to love, reduced to 3 miles of complete and utter hell. And I did it. I forced them to train. I forced them to run. I forced them to compete. I tell of the saving grace of lacing up those shoes and going out for a jog just about every day, but this time I took it a little bit to far.

You cant make people love the things you love. You cant force it upon them and expect them to react like they just won the lottery. Running is something that people just have to find out for themselves. Does that mean that I stop proclaiming the wonders of running? No. Absolutely not. It does mean that I tell my story and let other decide for themselves. Maybe one day my kids will choose to run. I hope so, cause I do love it so and sharing it with them would make it 100 times more enjoyable.

You cant make people love the things you love. You cant force God upon them and expect them to react like they just won the lottery. God is something that people just have to find out for themselves. Does that mean that I stop proclaiming the wonders of my God? No. Absolutely not. It does mean that I tell my story and let other decide for themselves. Maybe one day others will choose to run. I hope so, cause I do love it so and sharing it with them would make it 100 times more enjoyable.





Don't let the smiles fool you

Mexican Radio

This morning I got in 3 miles, but the issue was...my music. I rarely run with music. Usually I just enjoy thinking and trying to solve the worlds problems in my mind while I log my miles. It can also be pretty dangerous running with headphones. A lot of people run with music. Most marathons say that it is against their rules to allow runners to participate with headphones in, but I have never seen any group enforce it. Let me say that running next to someone for any period of time with "Eye of the Tiger" blaring at volume ten can be extremely annoying. The last time I ran with my music was about a month ago, pre-dawn, with traffic and I could not hear a thing. Later a fellow runner fussed at me because she passed me in her vehicle, honked, and I didn't even hear her. Yeah... that was probably a bad idea on my part. See, last year for Christmas, Cathy got me these really cool headphones that fit perfectly in your ears and drown out ALL NOISE!!!

Anyway, this morning I ran with my music and those bomb headphones (known as yurbuds). One problem; my iPhone kept playing the same song over and over again. I stopped to fix it, to no avail. It is impossible to get an iPhone to do anything with gloves on. I figured that I would just solve the problem when I returned home. I mean, I'm only going 3 miles, how bad can it be? Do you know how irritating it can be to run for 30 minutes listening to the same song. Don't get me wrong, I think Wall of Voodoo's "Mexican Radio" is a great song, but after 5 or 6 times of "I wish I was in Tijuana, eating barbecued iguana," you start to get a little aggravated. Oh well, when I got home I just turned the music off.

It seems that... maybe I do have to hear something 5 or 6 or 10 times to finally hear what's being said. Most of the time God has to continually tell me, even yell at me to listen to his voice, to see him moving, to be humble, to work diligently, to love others, to read his word, to spend time with him. He tells me these things over and over again. Sometimes I get home and turn him off.

Most times I turn him off before I even leave the house.

Towards the end of my run, I just stopped listening to the words of the song. I pray that I don't stop listening to the words of my Savior. Keep talking God. I will try to pay attention. Sometimes I am "on a wavelength far from home."

Christmas Shoes?

I can't believe it. Halloween just ended and I am hearing Christmas songs already. You know what Christmas song I just can not stand? That stupid Christmas shoes song. A song written for the sole purpose of making people cry. Ugh. I want someone to write a Christmas song about one of my children buying me a new pair of running shoes. I have had mine for almost a year and the cushioning is all out of them. My shins, toes, and legs kill me while I run. If those things didn't cost so much and if I wasn't so cheep.... Maybe Nate, my ten year old, will go to a running store and take a pair of Saucony ProGrid Omni 10's size 10.5 up to the counter. Maybe he will go to pay for them, realize he doesn't have the money, turn to the gentleman behind him and say.....

"Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Daddy, please
It's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just his size
Could you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much time
You see his feet have hurt for quite a while
And I know these shoes would make him smile
And I want him to feel comfortable if Daddy runs Boston this year"

I know, what does this have to do with Christian principles and running. Not much. I did spell out Christmas. That should count for something. Let's just say, I believe that Jesus has a good sense of humor. He did make the platypus (no offense Perry)