Chased

Even though the morning was hot and humid, it was pleasantly cool in the shade of the wooded trail. I had never run on this particular creekside trail. Each bend and turn brought new sights and sounds and smells. Not another soul intruded upon my time in the woods. I was alone with my thoughts.

Until the last mile of my run, that is. I had remarked to myself that I had seen very little wildlife in the woods -- a box turtle was the most interesting creature to cross my path. No sooner had that idea materialized in my mind than I spotted him up ahead. A young whitetail buck stood on the edge of the trail lazily chewing some greenery. Clearly I saw him before he saw me. Once he heard my plodding footfall, he bounded back into the woods a few yards. Feelng safe he turned to look at me.

As I shuffled along at my moderate pace, we made eye contact. The young buck seemed incredulous. Why was I running? Or more to the point -- why was I running when nothing was chasing me? I smiled as I imagined the young buck voicing his question to me. I even turned back to look to make sure nothing was chasing me. There was nothing there.

But then another thought occurred to me. I looked back again. That's when I saw them, my pursuers. I was not running for no reason. At least, I wasn't running out of pure enjoyment. I was running to stay ahead of my over-40 nemeses. I was running to outpace inactivity, to fend off weight gain, to stave off disease and physical decline. These, these were my pursuers. For the time being, I am running fast enough to elude my would-be predators. But I can't slow down. I've got to keep moving, or they will catch me.

I wonder what that young buck thinks about that?

Delay

Don't you hate waiting? It is an almost universal trait, the hatred of waiting. And it's no wonder what with us living in the land of microwave ovens and tweets and instant coffee and on-demand video. We hate waiting. Now isn't fast enough; we want it RIGHT now.

Recently, my family was at the airport ready to fly back home. We arrived at our gate early. Very early. But we didn't mind that waiting so much. We just knew the plane would arrive on time, and we would be on our way. Well, the plane did arrive on time. And we boarded the plane on time. The one thing we failed to do was take off on time. In fact, we sat on the tarmac for over 30 minutes. This, of course, is not unprecedented in the annals of air travel. But that 30 minute delay did significantly cut into our 45 minute layover in Atlanta. Those who have made a connection at Hartsfield recognize the problem of getting from one terminal to another in under 15 minutes.

So, we began to fret (a little): "Will we make our connection? Will our bags make our connection? What will we do if we DON'T make our connection?"

Once we landed, the 15 minute clock began ticking. We walked/jogged/ran from the B concourse to the C concourse. We didn't really expect to make it on time, but we had to give our best shot. As we emerged from the escalator onto the C concourse we wondered how far away gate C33 was. Another 5 minute jog? No. In fact, we were only 2 gates away. We made it with 4 minutes to spare. Our plane had not yet left.

Ah, but would our bags make it? As we pondered this question we realized that the boarding process had not yet begun. An announcement soon followed: our flight was to be delayed 30 minutes for maintenance.

We need not have rushed after all. We would have to wait another 30 minutes. But instead of cursing the delay, we rejoiced. Our luggage would make it on the plane after all! How fortuitous! We were experiencing the blessing of delay.

There are times when our lives become so frantic and our schedules so full that we are unaware of the opportunities around us. We press on full throttle when what we really need to do is to slow down and wait. Sometimes the delays in life are to our advantage. Sometimes we need to seek the slower pace.

God has a plan. It does not always fit our schedule (rarely, in fact). Perhaps we postpone the trip we have planned. Perhaps we do not despair over a lost promotion at work. Perhaps the end of a relationship is not the end of the world. God's timing is perfect. Trust in that. Sometimes (with apologies to Shakespeare)...

...the delay's the thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the King.

Unforgivable

(I've had this post written in rough draft form for a week or two. But I'm just now finishing it.)


Those of us who live in Alabama are well-acquainted with the recent story of the poisoned trees at Toomer's Corner in Auburn. Perhaps the story has even garnered nationwide attention. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the story a brief rundown is in order. After Auburn beat Alabama in football this past November,  a self-proclaimed, ill-guided Alabama football fan injected herbicide into two trees at the landmark Toomer's Corner adjacent to Auburn University. He then had the foolish nerve to call in to a sports radio talk show to brag about the misdeed. It did not take law enforcement long to track him down and arrest him. The trees are not expected to survive.


In the aftermath of these events, numerous callers to that same talk radio show weighed in on the situation. Auburn and Alabama fans alike called in to denounce his actions. The poisoning of the tree was called "horrible,"  "stupid," and "crazy." One adjective used to describe the poisoning was "unforgivable." 


After hearing my fill on the subject, I turned the dial from sports talk radio to a news broadcast. At the end of a news story regarding the crisis in Egypt, the commentator described the actions of a certain government official as "unforgivable."


"Unforgivable"...what does that really mean? The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines the word in this way -- too bad to be excused or justified. An act that is considered unforgivable must be so bad that it is beyond excuse, justification or pardon. What sort of acts might these be? Betrayal? Murder? And from whom is the forgiveness not possible? From the wronged party? Relatives and friends? Society in part or as a whole? God?


I would argue that "unforgivable" is an extremely overused word. There have been many reprehensible acts for which repentance was sought and forgiveness granted. Are there victims of wrong-doing who are unwilling or unable to forgive their offender? Yes, but I would argue that it is often not the act itself that is unforgivable, but the person offended who is unforgiving. 


So, perhaps the word "unforgivable" has to come to mean the following: too bad to be excused...by me. We each hold the power of forgiveness. Sometimes we wield that power; sometimes we horde it like a miser leading to our own misery. We have become a nation of second chances. Witness the rebirth of the careers of Tiger Woods and Michael Vick. We each need forgiveness at one time our another -- from our spouses, our family, our friends, our coworkers, our community, our God.


Require forgiveness infrequently; grant forgiveness abundantly.

People are Watching

This past Sunday I ran the Mercedes Half Marathon. I went into the race with very few expectations because I had not fully trained for the event. The race was two months removed from the Rocket City Marathon for which I had trained diligently. But for the Mercedes? Not so much. I was hoping there would be some lingering effects from my previous hard work. Consequently, I really did not have a goal in mind other than to finish in under 2 hours (something I had done several times before).

I also was not completely sure how my body would respond to the test. But it was a beautiful morning with perfect conditions: cold and sunny but not frigid nor windy. I started out slow (mainly due to the 6000+ other runners) but soon found a comfortable yet energetic pace.

As we ran through the streets of Birmingham, scattered clumps of people gathered to cheer us on. Well, not me specifically, but they were cheering on their friends, their spouses, and their children. Some blew horns. Some played music. Many held homemade signs. The content of the signs ranged from "Go Dad!" to "Toenails are overrated!" One group even had several inspirational signs. One sign in particular was captured by the camera in my mind. It read: "Don't Stop! People are watching!"

I spent the next half mile pondering the implication of this phrase. Did I maintain my pace (or even speed up a little) as I ran by this sign? Perhaps. But I had stopped to walk in other races without considering whether people were watching me. Had I let them down in some way? Would they really be inspired by my continued effort? But then it occurred to me that I had never actually "stopped" during a race. I had slowed down to a jog. I had even walked for miles. But I had never stopped.

After the race it dawned on me that people are still watching me. Friends, family, acquaintances, strangers -- they are all watching me. Perhaps not constantly or pointedly, but they are definitely watching. How do I react to adversity? How do I respond at the end of a long day? Have I prepared for the situation before me? Have I studied? Have I worked hard? Have I prayed? In other words, have I done the training that is necessary to run the race that I want to run, the race of which I am capable of running?

I don't want to walk through life. I don't want to have to stop. But even more than that, I want to run with strength. People are watching.

The Primrose Path

During my recent trip to Honduras, I found myself lacking reading material. I had neglected to pack a book or a magazine or anything else to read (besides my Idiot's Guide to Spanish). I had intended to rely on the books I had downloaded on my iPhone Kindle app. But as I lay in bed on the first night in expectation of the relaxing comfort of a good novel, I realized I had not downloaded any new material. I was faced with a dilemma: re-read a mystery novel or begin one of the other works. My choices were limited. It came down to Fear and Trembling by Kierkegaard or one of Shakespeare's plays. Not having read it in awhile, I chose Hamlet.

Yes, it seems an odd choice given the circumstances. But as I began to read, I found the story familiar and the rhythms pleasing. I once heard Hamlet described as "nothing but a bunch of quotations strung together." And it's true (it is difficult to resist the urge to type " 'tis true!" right there). Passage after passage spoke to me in new and different ways. One passage early on particularly caught my attention. Laertes counsels his sister, Ophelia, to be cautious in receiving the affections of Hamlet lest they prove fleeting and false. Ophelia, the dutiful younger sister, agrees to take heed of his advice, but goes on to add:

But, good my brother,
Do not, as some ungracious pastors do,
Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven;
Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads,
And recks not his own rede. (I,iii,49-54)

Hypocrisy. It's an ugly word with a long and ugly history. The word "hypocrisy" comes from the Greek. It translates literally to "under-decide" but was used to denote "play-acting." I'm sure there were hypocrites even before ancient Greece.

Ophelia warns her brother, Laertes, not to hold her to a high standard of conduct and then walk down the "primrose path of dalliance" (Shakespeare lingo for "the wild side"). But her language cuts even deeper. She mentions -- by name -- ungracious, hypocritical pastors. She could have just as easily been speaking to many Christians, not just pastors or ministers.

I reflected on our mission trip in Honduras. We were sharing the Good News with the people there. The Way can, at times, be steep and thorny. How often do we turn around, finger still pointing skyward, and follow a different path? Is it because we lack faith? We only wish to maintain a good appearance? We are weak? I'm afraid the answer is "yes." Unfortunately, this trait, this failing quality is the stench that offends the nostrils of so many non-believers.

How then can we proceed? I preach primarily to myself here (but you get to listen in). We must live before we speak. We cannot speak in hypotheticals but in reality and out of true experience. Practice, then preach. We need to discover what we believe and put it into everyday practice. Then, and only then, can we offer our hand to our fellow man or woman to join us on that steep and thorny way. Together, we can make it.

Behind...

I'm already behind.

It's only January 30, and I'm behind. I made some resolutions that involved running and blogging, but I've fallen behind in both. But the reason is worthwhile. I spent a week in Honduras last week on a mission trip with a group from my church. I had planned to blog frequently from there, but apparently one cannot access www.blogger.com from Honduras. (One also cannot visit google.com but are instead redirected to google.hn -- Google Honduras)

As for the running, we were too busy, too tired, and too afraid to venture into the streets of Tegucigalpa in order to run during the week.

Some posts from my experiences in Honduras are forthcoming. But I recognize that I am behind...

Late night blog amidst the snow and ice

As I sit at the keyboard on the wrong side of midnight waiting for my sleeping pill to enact its intended effect, I listen. I hear the whoosh of flying snow. I hear the spatter of frozen rain upon my window pane. And I think of this: running is a metaphor for life. I weakly feign surprise when you tell me this is an overdone cliche. But just because something is cliche does not mean it is not true.

Having run the Rocket City Marathon several weeks ago as our last big event of 2010, my friend Terry and I swore off full-length marathons for awhile. (In guy-speak this could mean anywhere from next week to never again) But we did agree to run (with perseverance -- fingers crossed) the Mercedes Half Marathon on February 13, 2011. But how would I handle the transition from one race to the next? Only by reflecting on what I had accomplished (and not) before turning to what I hoped to accomplish in the future.

Looking back, my whole goal was to run the marathon in under 4 hours. But I put some caveats in my training. I only wanted to train 4 days a week. I only wanted to run 500 miles in 18 weeks (unlike the prescribed 600). I didn't want to do speedwork on the track. But I still thought I could make my goal. So what did I do? Did I set myself up for failure? No, I set my self up not to meet my goal. This was not a pass-fail experience. I was shooting for a sub-4 marathon; I ran 4:03. That's not a failure; that's a B+. I did very well for me, compared only to me. The years before 2004 when I did not run or bike or otherwise engage in physical activity -- those years were failures. The years 2005-2008 when I gave up running after a marathon -- failure.

The surest way to failure is not to set out to do the thing that you are supposed to do, that you need to do. So, we see that setting out to do something is the first blow against failure. Once in motion, we need to "count the costs" of our goal. The goal of a sub-4:00 marathon requires a certain number of miles and training sessions. Balancing these requirements with the desire to remain injury-free lead me to the decision to go light on the training. Don't get me wrong -- I put in plenty of miles, and time, and early mornings. Just not enough.

So, what's the point of all this? To self-flagellate over missing a time goal by three minutes? No.

• Did I have a goal? YES
• Did I pick the correct goal in the first place? Was it reasonable? Yes, I think it was.
• Having picked a reasonable goal, did I do enough to meet my goal? No, I think not. I could have done more to reach the goal.
• Am I disappointed with the result? No, not at all. I came close to meeting my goal. It is likely the best I could have done under the circumstances.

Do you realize that I haven't been writing about running for awhile now? This is life. This is school. This is work. This is your relationships. This is your spiritual walk.

So back to running...Terry and I used the recent Red Nose Run as a tune-up for the Mercedes which is in 5 weeks. We pushed it hard, but not too hard. We did well for us. I set a new PR (personal record) in the 10-miler. And we ran a pace that would allow us to break our Half marathon records again...Hey, that sounds like a good goal.

A last bit of advice: don't set your goals too high such that you never meet them...or too low such that you always meet them.

Resolutions

Wow, it's been over a year. Fifteen months to be exact. Too long between blog posts. I've done plenty of micro-blogging (Facebook and Twitter), but nothing that requires any prolonged thought and effort. So, the question is "why?" Why have I not blogged in so long? I want to blog. I want to become a better writer. I want to learn from my experiences and my mistakes. One of the best ways to do that is to stop and examine them. But do I really want to do this? Maybe some part of me does not want to take a look inside. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll find. Maybe I'm afraid no one will care.

So, I've made some resolutions. Original, I know. But here they are:

1. Study the New Testament. In 2010, I read through the Old Testament using the One Year Bible. I discovered (and re-discovered) many things in my reading. But I did not take the time to really study and reflect. I plan to dwell on the Scriptures. This may take more than 1 year; if that's the case, so be it.

2. Run 1000 miles. To a non-runner, this may sound crazy. But last year, I ran 988 miles. I racked up most of those miles (almost half) in training for my marathon in December. But my running was spotty in late spring and summer. My goal is to be more consistent this year. 1000 miles / 50 weeks = 20 miles per week (allowing for two weeks off). I tend to slack off on my running if I'm not training for a race...which leads me to my next resolution.

3. Run 6 Half-Marathons. I ran 3 half marathons and 1 full marathon last year, so this is only a slight increase. I should always be training for a race without the stress of a full-length marathon.

4. Blog at least once per week. Perhaps Resolutions #1-3 will provide plenty of material for regular blogging. In fact, I know they will. Its just a matter of transferring my thoughts from mind to page.

Feel free to hold me accountable to these resolutions, by the way. If I don't blog, call me on it. If I don't blog about running, ask me how it's going. If I don't blog about NT stuff, ask me about that, too. There are plenty of cold, sleepy mornings when I do not feel like running. But I know my running buddy will be there waiting for me. And that gets me moving.

Here we go...