My first double-digit run (10.2) since last winter's Winter Carnival Half Marathon was an accomplishment for me. It felt long, but also felt like I am making progress. Because I know how long the marathon is, I could take comfort that the run was about 40% of an entire marathon. I think that I know why the training program does not have me ever running more than 20 miles. If so, some of the thrill of completing the full marathon distance would be diminished.
It was also good to be back at church today. I am part of a great church that is trying to remain missional while it also gets established. I've been gone for about six weeks with various travels, so it was good to be back.
Looking ahead, the long runs start to turn into some real distance (12, 15, 18) pretty quickly and I will get a much better feel for how it will be to run for four hours. While there is a significant physical component to the entire endeavor, I think that there must be a substantial mental component as well. I guess we'll see.
The Persistent Journey -- toward authentic living in an inauthentic world
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Friday, June 29, 2007
Back At It
Two weeks of vacation with extended family created lots of good memories and plenty of different running opportunities--along the Virginia Beach boardwalk, through Greenbelt National Park in D.C., some neighborhoods around Williamsburg, VA. But it is good to be home and back to familiar places. I was a bit surprised how excited the kids were to get home last night--almost giddy.
For some reason, during this morning's 5.2 I found myself thinking of glimpses of the future. One of my kids likes to read the end of a mystery novel first in order to find out who will still be alive at the end of the story. She says she can enjoy the rest of the book better if she knows the ending. I don't get it--why ruin the tension and mystery? But what about real life. If you could get a 30 minute glimpse of your life five years from now or fifteen, would you want to see? How might it change the way that you live today? In a morbid moment, I wondered what if I look five years into the future and find that I'm dead? Would that change anything that I am doing now? If so, shouldn't I go ahead and make those changes? Why wait?
One of the reasons that I love running is that it gives me time to ponder questions like this that I otherwise would not have the freedom to consider.
P.S. My brother is going to run a half marathon with me in December (in Florida). I am excited about sharing the journey with him, as well as the event. Who knows, he may even grow to like running and then I will have more than a brother--a comrade for the roads. Cool thought.
For some reason, during this morning's 5.2 I found myself thinking of glimpses of the future. One of my kids likes to read the end of a mystery novel first in order to find out who will still be alive at the end of the story. She says she can enjoy the rest of the book better if she knows the ending. I don't get it--why ruin the tension and mystery? But what about real life. If you could get a 30 minute glimpse of your life five years from now or fifteen, would you want to see? How might it change the way that you live today? In a morbid moment, I wondered what if I look five years into the future and find that I'm dead? Would that change anything that I am doing now? If so, shouldn't I go ahead and make those changes? Why wait?
One of the reasons that I love running is that it gives me time to ponder questions like this that I otherwise would not have the freedom to consider.
P.S. My brother is going to run a half marathon with me in December (in Florida). I am excited about sharing the journey with him, as well as the event. Who knows, he may even grow to like running and then I will have more than a brother--a comrade for the roads. Cool thought.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Slower to Go Faster
By about mile three of this morning's run I began wondering why everything felt so good. It felt as if I had just started out. Then I realized that yesterday was an official rest day. That one day of rest transformed today's run into a quicker and smoother experience. In the midst of focusing on training and putting in the miles, it is easy to lose touch with the incremental physical toll that such this training regimen is taking. A rest day is not only good for my body, but also for my mind. And planned rest is the best. If I miss a day because of weather or schedule, then I feel bad and tend to get down on myself. If rest is written in on the schedule, then I am free to be OK with not running that day.
I wonder how many people are functioning in daily life with little or no rest. Not so much a vacation, but rest in the midst of regular life. That is something that I need to get proficient with--how to get sufficient rest in the midst of work and family obligations to stay at the top of my game (such as that is). "Daily rest" must fit within the structures of the rest of life or it will get squeezed out by other responsibilities.
Jim Anderson from the NCD-EFCA ran a sabbath retreat that I attended where he tried to convince us of the value of regular sabbath time. Sometimes I think that I should have paid more attention.
I wonder how many people are functioning in daily life with little or no rest. Not so much a vacation, but rest in the midst of regular life. That is something that I need to get proficient with--how to get sufficient rest in the midst of work and family obligations to stay at the top of my game (such as that is). "Daily rest" must fit within the structures of the rest of life or it will get squeezed out by other responsibilities.
Jim Anderson from the NCD-EFCA ran a sabbath retreat that I attended where he tried to convince us of the value of regular sabbath time. Sometimes I think that I should have paid more attention.
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Free Thought Zone
Some people look at runners and think that our experience is a mind-numbing repetition--left, right, left, right ... It is true that running does not necessarily require a lot of attention, but I usually find it to be mind-freeing. Last Friday I got to go flying in a Cessna 172--an early Fathers Day gift (props to all!). It was thrilling to fly the plane for much of the flight, including the landing, but it was attention intensive. No time for daydreaming. Between watching for other aircraft, watching the instruments, watching where I was going, and trying to give my Dad a smooth ride, it required all of the attention that I could give. This morning's run was different.
I could think about the work day to come, our upcoming vacation, what to see in Washington, D.C., how to find someone to embroider the 50th anniversary shirts, what needs to get fixed on my truck, whether any of my kids will go to DePauw (my alma mater), you get the idea. In the course of 5.2 miles, I can think a lot of thoughts. The running route was familiar, so I didn't even need to think about where I was going. The freedom is wonderful--and right outside my front door. I also enjoy the freedom to think while there is nothing else that I should be doing. There will be time later in the day for work, family, and other responsibilities. While I run I can let my thoughts go wherever they want to go--and enjoy the journey.
I could think about the work day to come, our upcoming vacation, what to see in Washington, D.C., how to find someone to embroider the 50th anniversary shirts, what needs to get fixed on my truck, whether any of my kids will go to DePauw (my alma mater), you get the idea. In the course of 5.2 miles, I can think a lot of thoughts. The running route was familiar, so I didn't even need to think about where I was going. The freedom is wonderful--and right outside my front door. I also enjoy the freedom to think while there is nothing else that I should be doing. There will be time later in the day for work, family, and other responsibilities. While I run I can let my thoughts go wherever they want to go--and enjoy the journey.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Regular is OK
I want my blog to be pithy and insightful. The kind of blog that someone might stumble upon and be struck by the witty commentary on life and thought. But such is not to be. I am not terribly pithy or witty--at least not in ways that come across well in print. Yet I am becoming more satisfied with the reality that I am a pretty regular guy whose most outstanding accomplishment is providing a platform for the exploits of my kids. I can be OK with being regular, instead of some well-known world changer. I don't need headlines or notoriety, just a sense that I am doing some good in the spheres of influence in which I find myself.
Training is similar in that not every training run is spectacular or noteworthy. For example, this morning's 3.5 was over a familiar and often-run course, at a pace that I am settling into (just under 9:00/mile), and with a view of an ordinary summer sunrise. No particularly insightful thoughts or revelations. No extraordinary animal sightings. Nothing particularly notable. Yet regular is OK. It is part of the training process and will have an ultimately good result.
As a kid I remember being told that I could be anything I wanted. And for many years that is what I told my own kids. But I have come to realize that the statement, though well-meaning, is simply not true. I have now shifted my focus to helping my kids/myself find out what I can be really good at and enjoy, and following that path. Rather than trying to be something or someone that I was not created to be, why not simply do all that I can to be the best me?
This is not a mater of selfishness, but of efficiency. A pliers is not selfish if it chooses to pursue being used to tighten and loosen nuts, rather than to be used as a hammer. It is simply being itself. There are hammers for hammering and pliers for plier-ing. The pliers doesn't have to do all of the tool jobs. No one person has to do everything--in a home, an office, a church, a team. As each one does their own part well, the collective will be better off.
What do you enjoy doing that you do well? How can you align your work, service, home to do more of that?
Training is similar in that not every training run is spectacular or noteworthy. For example, this morning's 3.5 was over a familiar and often-run course, at a pace that I am settling into (just under 9:00/mile), and with a view of an ordinary summer sunrise. No particularly insightful thoughts or revelations. No extraordinary animal sightings. Nothing particularly notable. Yet regular is OK. It is part of the training process and will have an ultimately good result.
As a kid I remember being told that I could be anything I wanted. And for many years that is what I told my own kids. But I have come to realize that the statement, though well-meaning, is simply not true. I have now shifted my focus to helping my kids/myself find out what I can be really good at and enjoy, and following that path. Rather than trying to be something or someone that I was not created to be, why not simply do all that I can to be the best me?
This is not a mater of selfishness, but of efficiency. A pliers is not selfish if it chooses to pursue being used to tighten and loosen nuts, rather than to be used as a hammer. It is simply being itself. There are hammers for hammering and pliers for plier-ing. The pliers doesn't have to do all of the tool jobs. No one person has to do everything--in a home, an office, a church, a team. As each one does their own part well, the collective will be better off.
What do you enjoy doing that you do well? How can you align your work, service, home to do more of that?
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