I’ve been feeling convicted by my negative attitude lately…
Do everything without complaining or arguing, so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe as you hold out the word of life—in order that I may boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor for nothing. Philippians 2:14-16
blameless.
pure.
I can’t remember a moment within the past two weeks that I’ve truly felt blameless.
My outlook on life seems polluted by a constant negativity. Maybe it’s watching the news too closely in the wake of China or Myanmar or whatever other catastrophe occurs. Maybe it’s the realization that how I spend my time and resources is rarely in line with what it could or should be. Maybe it’s the combination of several things.
Whatever the cause, I am constantly reminded of this enormous chasm between what I say I believe and how I live out what is truly in my heart… and I am totally humbled by God’s grace.
Phil Wickham’s song “Grace” brought tears to my eyes as I read through the lyrics today.
The sky is gray and the light is far
The sea is a rage within my heart
I turn my sight to the crashing waves
I cry in the night just to be saved
I need eyes to be my guide
I need a voice that’s louder than mine
I need hope I need You
Cause I can’t do this alone
Grace I call Your name
Oh won’t Your smile fall over me
I’m cracked and dry on hands and knees
Oh sweet grace rain down on me I need You grace
I pray for dawn a new day to live
I pray for mercy only Jesus gives
Though darkness falls and a million cry
I believe over all there’s a greater light shining for us
This is my first ever marathon and, not surprisingly, the longest distance I’ve ever attempted. The next-closest distance I’ve trained for was the Chicago Half Marathon, which I ended up missing thanks to a sprained ankle. But I at least know I can run mileages in the double digits… but 26.2 miles? That remains to be seen.
I’ve set a few goals for myself in anticipation of the race…
Goal #1:
Finish.
In the event that I’m successful in goal #1, I’ve made Goal #2:
Even though I’m not very consistent at getting out every day and I’m not very fast, I still call myself a runner. I love being outside, pushing myself further, breathing in the cold fall air, and the energy I feel the rest of the day after I put in a couple of miles before work.
There are several runners that I look to for inspiration. This morning I was completely blown away to learn that one of these runners, Ryan Shay, had suddenly passed away…
From the New York Times:
“A triumphant United States Olympic trials marathon turned somber yesterday morning when Ryan Shay, a 28-year-old veteran marathoner, collapsed during the race in Central Park and was pronounced dead at Lenox Hill Hospital.
It put a terrible twist on the victory by Ryan Hall, who exulted in the emotion of winning the race and capturing an Olympic berth. But he had no idea that the ambulance that had passed him on the course was carrying Shay, his good friend and occasional training partner, a man whose wedding he had helped celebrate in July.
Shay collapsed at the five-and-a-half-mile mark near the Central Park boathouse, relatively early in the 26.2-mile race, and he was pronounced dead at 8:46 a.m., stunning the sport on a cool, crisp morning that seemed perfect for a marathon. The death was announced by Mary Wittenberg, the president of the New York Road Runners, which staged the race. No cause of death was given. The medical examiner’s office said an autopsy would be performed today.”
My ‘turn-around-my-health-and-get-in-shape’ patterns usually look something like this:
Day 1. inspiration strikes, running ensues
Day 2. euphoric running continues, eating habits improve
Day 3. wake up tired, but still go running
Day 4. drank a soda, motivation begins to dwindle
Day 5. went out for pizza, forgot to run
Day 6. what? run? …I’d rather sleep in
Day 7. I don’t like to run on Sundays anyway.
It’s a quick trip going from top to bottom, but it almost always lasts a week, and it has always (up to this point anyway) ended with me being frustrated and feeling guilty.
In the past I’ve tried to post my running distances in blog posts, but was never that consistent. This morning, however, I found a solution: Nike has produced a ‘flash/html badge’ that updates my Nike+ stats automatically! So, check it out periodically, and when it looks like I haven’t been running in a few days, call me out on it.
I was driving across the bridge this evening when I saw a dead animal lying in the middle of the road. My windows were rolled down and, without much thought, I inhaled deeply… partially waiting to catch the familiar smell of some living-impaired animal, but mainly holding my breath to avoid it. I’m not attracted to the smell, but I think after such a long time of working in a job so void of passion, I was just searching for something authentic and real. Even if it was covered in dirt.
I was looking for some way to realize that there was really a difference between death and life. I didn’t even realize I was searching for it until I found myself inhaling the aroma of a dead carcass while speeding along the highway. And that night, for some reason, the aroma had an intoxicating effect on me. I suddenly saw life and death and time. I saw everything I wanted to accomplish and realized what it was that was standing in front of me.
It was me.
I rushed home and changed into my shorts and t-shirt and drove to the base of the steepest hill in town that I’ve been talking about running for the past three years, but never have (In Central Illinois a steep hill means going from sea level to an elevation of about 700′ in a half mile). I ran all the way to the top. Not jogged. Not walked. Ran.
I don’t think I’ve ever run so intensely before. My legs were burning. Sweat was running into my eyes. My feet were screaming. I could hardly breathe without collapsing.
