Memories
A memory popped into my head as I was lacing up my shoes today to take my first post-marathon run. It was from five or six years ago when a good friend and I were coaching my daughter's soccer team. We had made it to the city championship game that year, but trailed something like 2-0 at halftime. Now my friend Jose and I had a nice system going where I tended to be the bad cop, challenging the girls to raise their level of play, and he tended to be the good cop, feeding their self-esteem. Yet, at halftime on this day, as I was tending to the logistics of getting the girls water and oranges, Jose had the team gathered around him and he was getting in their faces. "WHAT ... ARE YOU ... AFRAID OF?" His hand karate chopped the air with every phrase.
As I opened the front door to head out for my run, I could imagine my friend saying that very same thing to me. What is this fear I feel? What am I afraid of? I'm afraid I'm going to feel that way I did at mile 20 of the marathon, hopeless and in despair. I'm afraid I'm going to injure myself, that this overweight middle-age body is overtaxed. I'm afraid this is all a stupid middle age crisis and a waste of time.
But then I think back to the message I think Jose was trying to give the girls. These are not the things to be afraid of. Be afraid of the disappointment that comes when a door of opportunity opens but you're too scared to go through it. Be afraid of living with the knowledge that you could have accomplished so much more if you wouldn't have been afraid to use your God-given talents.
For me, it's not about the racing. I'll be fine if I never run another marathon or never have success running another marathon. But I will be disappointed if I lose what I've gained in my running. If those hours spent on the trails and roads are replaced with hours staring at the TV. If those times of quiet meditation and reflection (usually around mile 5 or 6) are replaced by naps (ah, to be a cat and sleep all day, and be happy with just that). If I lose the courage to face those "dark miles*" in life, when despair and depression hammer your soul, but you push through it (with a lot of help from above).
On that day five years ago or so, we lost 4-1. But I was a proud father, watching my daughter stand up for herself. She was a warrior that day, especially in the second half. Jose, my friend, would eventually turn his question inward and answer his true calling. Today, he's a pastor in Oceanside. I've heard him preach, and I think his message is the much the same, only said in a softer, more loving voice "what are you afraid of? If God is for you, who can be against you?"
Me? I ran about seven miles today. I had a few flashbacks to the "dark miles*" but pushed through the minor discomfort. I didn't hurt myself and when I returned home I felt more energized and focused. I thought more about Jose and faced the rest of my day without fear (although as it developed, I probably had plenty to fear). It was a hard day, but a good day.
* "Dark miles" is a term coined by the blog runningandrambling just recently. It refers to those final miles of the marathon, the most painful stretch where things seem hopeless. The blog is a good read, I recommend it.
As I opened the front door to head out for my run, I could imagine my friend saying that very same thing to me. What is this fear I feel? What am I afraid of? I'm afraid I'm going to feel that way I did at mile 20 of the marathon, hopeless and in despair. I'm afraid I'm going to injure myself, that this overweight middle-age body is overtaxed. I'm afraid this is all a stupid middle age crisis and a waste of time.
But then I think back to the message I think Jose was trying to give the girls. These are not the things to be afraid of. Be afraid of the disappointment that comes when a door of opportunity opens but you're too scared to go through it. Be afraid of living with the knowledge that you could have accomplished so much more if you wouldn't have been afraid to use your God-given talents.
For me, it's not about the racing. I'll be fine if I never run another marathon or never have success running another marathon. But I will be disappointed if I lose what I've gained in my running. If those hours spent on the trails and roads are replaced with hours staring at the TV. If those times of quiet meditation and reflection (usually around mile 5 or 6) are replaced by naps (ah, to be a cat and sleep all day, and be happy with just that). If I lose the courage to face those "dark miles*" in life, when despair and depression hammer your soul, but you push through it (with a lot of help from above).
On that day five years ago or so, we lost 4-1. But I was a proud father, watching my daughter stand up for herself. She was a warrior that day, especially in the second half. Jose, my friend, would eventually turn his question inward and answer his true calling. Today, he's a pastor in Oceanside. I've heard him preach, and I think his message is the much the same, only said in a softer, more loving voice "what are you afraid of? If God is for you, who can be against you?"
Me? I ran about seven miles today. I had a few flashbacks to the "dark miles*" but pushed through the minor discomfort. I didn't hurt myself and when I returned home I felt more energized and focused. I thought more about Jose and faced the rest of my day without fear (although as it developed, I probably had plenty to fear). It was a hard day, but a good day.
* "Dark miles" is a term coined by the blog runningandrambling just recently. It refers to those final miles of the marathon, the most painful stretch where things seem hopeless. The blog is a good read, I recommend it.
posted by dave kellogg at 2:14 PM
1 Comments:
Beautiful Dave! Thanks for the inspiration this morning. It's a remedy for me.
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