The Mystic Runner

Chicago Marathon 2005

2005-10-19T12:29:00.000-07:00

Jon runs through Chinatown during 2005 LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon

Hmmm. Less is more. That seemed to be the lesson of my third marathon, which turned out my slowest but also by far most fun.

I had done a number of things that led me to suspect it wasn't going to be a good day. Loss of nearly a month (July) due to the Cornerstone Festival and a lengthy Montana vacation which included my 30th Fort Benton High School reunion (Rahrah FBHS 1975!). Then there were about three (!!!) bouts with sickness, along with a slip in the shower right after running my 18 miler! The latter knocked me out of training for nearly a week.

In short, none of my long runs had gone well, and I fully suspected I'd be doing a pretty slow and ugly LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon.

I planned accordingly.

- Less liquid than last year. Everyone seems freaked about being under-hydrated, but my experience of the LBCM in '04 taught me that over-hydration is more to be feared. I was, to put it mildly, as sick as a dog after the race last year, even yakking on the L-train on the way home.

- Less speed than last year. I was doing 9 minute miles, nothing speedy to many runners, but my top long-range speed; it only lasted a bit past mile 13 or 14 last year, and then came long walking breaks and an eventual breakdown of my run altogether.

- Little to no focus on the clock. Last year, I wanted a 4:00 time or better. I got a 4:45, shocking to me in light of all the training I did which had indicated I would finish in the 4 hour to 4:15 range. This year, I said, forget time, I'll run gently and in take it easy mode.

Things started great. I was being passed by a lot of runners (some of whom I later repassed later; first year runners often go out way too fast and pay big-time for it). I skipped the first water/Gatorade station altogether and kept putzing along. Small children reached out with their tiny gloved hands, hoping to have a runner "slap five" with them. I obliged, smiling.

Four or five miles in, it suddenly felt a bit on the tired side. Uh-oh, wonder if this is the beginning of a worst-case scenario? But no, I worked past that feeling and got into what seemed a nice groove. By miles 9 and 10 (around Lincoln Park Zoo to Addison Street), I was feeling fine. Quick porta-potty stop at mile 8 or 9 didn't seem to faze the overall good feeling I was having.

Some guys held an anti-Bush sign up, irritating many of the runners but drawing a thumbs-up from me (sorry, fellow evangelicals!). And the music was everywhere, from punk to "God Bless America" -- the latter should have been next to the anti-Bush rally for maximum surreal effect, but instead was near the LaSalle Bank Building downtown. I was taking it all in, unlike last year when I was so bent on that impossible 4 hrs. that I didn't allow myself to relax and enjoy.

The day was perfect -- I doubt I'll ever see another day quite as perfect. High 50s with a touch of wind, enough clouds in the sky to keep the sun from baking us all... just idyllic weather for a run.

I did get one scare. Around mile 12 or 13 I suddenly stepped into what was a well-disguised pothole in the street. Not tremendously deep, only a few inches, but it sent a jarring bang up my leg into my thigh that I thought might have injured me for a moment. I actually yelled in surprise and pain, though mostly surprise. Thankfully, I didn't feel any lasting problem until the next day when my left knee and thigh ached quite a bit.

Other odd moments: A plaintive runner's voice saying, "Anyone got a band-aid? Anyone? A band-aid?" I looked to my right, where the voice was coming from, and spotted a guy with one of the most painful (though harmless) injuries a runner can get: chafed nipples! He had a white shirt on, and it had rubbed one of his nipples so hard that blood had streamed down the left side of the shirt. He really needed Nip-guards (no kidding, these are little jobs made for runners male and female to prevent this sort of thing). In fact, by the end of the race, my own white shirt had a less spectacular but similarly-caused stain on one side.

The best moment to me, other than finishing, was hearing a really strange voice at one point going "Goooooooooooo.... Gooooooooooo...."

I looked over, and a guy was standing on the sidelines with his small dog held in the crook of his arm. The DOG was the one making that noise! I started laughing. Truly surreal.

I can't really describe what it is like to be running with 33,000 other people (7,000 didn't actually show up, though they'd registered for the LBCM). At times, when I had a vantage point allowing me to see far ahead, the vision of those thousands of others running was overwhelming. Each runner with her or his own unique set of reasons for running... like the guy that passed me with a t-shirt reading "Triple bypass in 2002 -- LBCM in 2005." But the one that actually brought a tear to my eye was a thin, almost emaciated looking thirty-something woman. Her shirt read, "Running LBCM... Without my brain tumor." Wow. One quickly realizes how life-affirming a marathon -- even running itself -- can be for someone battling back against individual setback or heartbreak.

The crowds along the course were fantastic, estimated at over one million people. Cheering, shouting, waving signs and even handing out everything from bananas to beer (no thanks, but thanks!) and tootsie-rolls (yes, thanks), they really helped energize us.

Things continued well until I reached mile 22, where for the first time I had to really take some time walking. The pain had been slowly building for a while. Even then, however, I felt so relaxed about it all. I had hoped I would stay under five hours, but that began to look doubtful as my walking stretches got longer and longer. My legs were simply tired, my hips in particular feeling the length of the race.

Near the end I was again walking near another guy my size (around 6'2"). We laughed together as we limped along about how mile 22 had nailed both of us. But at his urging we once again powered up to get over that last bridge (it seemed a mountain, though the actual change in elevation is only a couple dozen feet). I ran ahead, and crossed the finish line at 5:08 plus a few seconds.

And I felt great. Last year, once across the finish line I'd fallen to the pavement, my guts really tearing me up and my energy completely depleted. This year, I found myself happily going through the line for my medal, my aluminum foil heat cape, my ice-cold green apple (man was that apple great!), and two bottles of water. I drank one bottle hiking to the Howard Red Line L-Train and another on the way home to Wilson Avenue.

It was a great race. And unlike last year, when I nearly said "never again!" to marathons, this year's race left me ready for more.

A final real blessing: I raised over $1700 for the Cornerstone Community Outreach Shelter, a homeless shelter run by Jesus People USA (the intentional Christian community where I live). My fellow TeamCCO runners and I had fun moaning around that night, eating pizza and alternately laughing and grimacing over our performances. All of us finished in over 5 hours, so at least I wasn't alone!

Now for wintertime training and trying not to let all that marathon trained muscle turn into couch potato fat....

Tapering...

2005-09-29T09:29:00.000-07:00

My twelve miler last weekend went well. Cool weather helped, plus the shorter mileage during this final "taper" down to let the body revive before the marathon. I'm a little worried about my shoes, though. Tighter than they should be for 11 1/2 2W shoes. Hmmm. Another pair at the crazy prices running shoes go for? Sigh.

Time to get out there and do my six miler today. Guess I'd better stop typing and start running.

Bloodied, but Not Bowed...

2005-09-21T07:11:00.000-07:00

Further setbacks. My apex week of training was supposed to consist of four runs. I got "the flu" (my name for something actually quite different involving migranes and sinus mess, and which has bothered me on and off for years) the first day of these four days, and lost all three of the "short" runs. Then came the 20 miler, and how ugly that was!

I did have fun for the first third of it, as I ran past the Y-Me Breast Cancer walkathon three day walkers who were just finishing up their charity walk. There were hundreds of them, and I couldn't help but clap and occasionally yell out, "My wife is a survivor! I thank you, my daughters thank you, my wife thanks you!" They often were quite cheered to hear such a thing, esp. the ones who were limping badly.

But alas, not even their presence was enough to keep me going in the 85 degree heat plus my own lack of preparedness due to illness (see previous posts) and other problems. The run degraded steadily into run/walk run/walk, and finally into walking with a bit of running tossed in. By the time I was done, and I was done at only 17 miles instead of 20, I could barely walk myself, and looked a lot like one of the more forlorn Y-Me walkers! Sigh...

I felt pretty hopeless about my LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon, though unswayed in my determination to run it. A visit to Hal Higdon's V-Team running boards left me more encouraged. As Hal noted, at least I was out there. And that pretty much has been the story of my training this year.

Spiritual application? Sometimes you work toward a goal, only to discover your own limitations (temporary or permanent limitations). At that point, you either bail out or recalibrate your expectations. When I first started training this year, I hoped to be able to break a four hour marathon. At this point, I seriously expect to run over 5 hours, perhaps as slowly as 5:30.

My goal now? As in my Christian life, it is to finish. Just that.

Back Injury: Slip in Shower After 18 Miler

2005-09-09T06:50:00.000-07:00

A grueling eighteen miler, and on a set of gravel and two-lane paved roads with plenty of hills thrown in, left me wiped but satisfied. Then came my step into the shower, and a mat that was supposed to stop slipping instead slipped itself. I didn't fall, but did jerk upright with a force I instantly knew wasn't good for me. By the next day, my back was very sore low down. Running acquaintances discouraged me from further training until the back is back to normal, or close to it.

Tomorrow I'll go out there again, how far to run I don't know yet. I'll see how it goes.

As usual, all sorts of spiritual applications I can think of for this, but I'll let that drop for now. Suffice it to say that we are far more frail that we think we are, a fact circumstance and nature occasionally inform us of in no uncertain terms.

Eight Miler Was... Well, Elegant

2005-08-25T21:50:00.000-07:00

Overcast sky, mid-afternoon in Chicago... a breeze across my face. I ached, no doubt about it, helped along by having accidentally whacked my left foot against something in my room. The fourth toe felt bruised for sure. But the day was nice, and I eased into the run and began praying the Lord's Prayer. Slowly, pondering each word...

The pace was nice, and the coolness of the day really helped. I found myself praying the prayer over and over as the trees and lake stretched out, and as other runners and bikers passed or were passed by me.

I'll have to talk more about the praying... I've been doing the Lord's Prayer quite a bit lately while I run. But meanwhile, I will say this. The run went well all the way through... no pooping out at the end like I've been doing on medium and longer runs lately. I actually sped up the second half, and finished with a 1:15 time. That comes out to a tiny bit less than 9 Min 30 sec miles, which is faster than I've run some of my four mile runs lately!

Sixteen--er, SEVENteen Miler

2005-08-23T17:58:00.000-07:00

Well, one week later after decent weekday runs of 4, 8, and 4 miles, I felt moderately prepared for the weekend run again. Sunday this time, as Saturday was filled with unavoidable work from early on. Cool out, supposedly, so I go for an after-church start time.

Cool, sure. For about five miles. On top of that the Chicago Air and Water Show is going on full-bore right in the center miles of my normal route (around North Avenue Beach). So I have to create a "new" course, using about a third of normal route going south on the Bikepath, then turning back at Belmont and running North past my origen point. I end up going way, way north past the end of the Bikepath and into Evanston.

I go past my daughter's apartment in Evanston, only one block off her street. And still keep going.

Finally, I turn around. And counting miles (a sort of iffy proposition, using my watch time plus the mileage I already have counted), I figure I've gone about 10 1/2 miles. And then I have to walk a little. I do adding in my head, subtracting... hmm. Okay, if I run back South of the point of origin again, turn around 2 miles or so past and come home to Wilson and home... that should do it.

I really start losing power. It's hot. The sun is burning down now. Did I mention I hadn't worn a shirt -- IDIOT! -- somehow thinking my skin had absorbed enough sun on shorter runs that I wouldn't burn even though I'm a redhead? Sigh...

I'm running shorter and shorter distances between walk breaks. The sun is coming down hard, harder now that the second hour of the run has started. Thank God for trees, their cool shadows offering brief respites between bright straightaways. Every fountain becomes an excuse to stop, except that I really am terribly thirsty.

Is this really supposed to be healthy? For crying out loud, I'm not that far from fifty years old here!

I keep going, even though in the last two miles things are more walking than running. I stagger into my room, and after recalibrating my times and known exact miles, realize I've run at least 17 miles instead of the intended 16. Sheesh. It sure felt that long...

15 Miler... Let It Rain!

2005-08-13T14:01:00.000-07:00

In my continuing attempt to catch up to where I ought to be at this point in the training for the Chicago Marathon, I did the listed fifteen mile run today. Even if I didn't run all of it, I did run most of it... 11 1/2 miles I did straight running (w/ stops for water fountains a few times). After that I had to take a few thirty to sixty second walk breaks. I don't think any of the breaks much surpassed that, and the total distance was a mile or less.

The rain threatened to come for the entire run, but didn't catch me until I was two miles from home. Truth is, I wish it had been raining the whole time. It felt great, and I tasted the salt as it washed down my face. Pure rain, coolant and energizer all in one! Sure helped me clean up, and clean up the end of my run as well.

Sigh... next weekend, a sixteen miler! Man, am I achy.

Pollution Alert: Whew!

2005-08-03T11:34:00.000-07:00

It was an ugly 7 mile run today that I ended up doing short on-again, off-again walks through for about the last 3 miles. Muggy and getting hot even at 6:30 am, it is mapped for 94 degrees. That's over 100 with the heat index. I finished up around 7:45, tired and weak.

The city was hazed over with the pollution trapped under this heat layer. And I couldn't help wondering how that was affecting my (and every other runner's out there) lungs. EEEEEEuuuuch.

But I did order my new shoes last night, found a great deal on a pair of "Brooks Beast." That's a shoe made for over-pronaters like me, and supposedly a bit of a Cadillac compaired to the Saucony Stabils I've done the last 2 times I bought. We'll see. My old running shoes are so broken down, I actually switched to the pair I wore before those ones! (Yes, we of very modest means do hold on to old running shoes.)

There's no such thing as a Glacier Park Marathon...

2005-07-30T14:18:00.000-07:00

And I wonder why... maybe because 26.2 miles in this terrain would pretty much thin the field to nada?

Not much to do with running here, but a lot to do with the mystic. I got this picture while in Glacier Park, where at least I did do some hiking with my wife, brother (and his wife), and sister. Much beauty, much laughter. Very mystical... lots of things to make one ponder God.

Things I Wondered About While Doing my 13 Miler Today

2005-07-30T14:04:00.000-07:00

Ran the 13 miler today, and it was good going downtown and all the way to the turn-around past Navy Pier. But it did start breaking down after that, so that by the time I got home, I figure I did about 9 to 10 miles running and around 3 to 4 walking. Maybe it wasn't that bad, but close. However, I'm not too bummed, since I expected it wouldn't be pretty trying to get back into the fray.

But here are a few things that made me go "Hmm?" as I ran today.

1. Why didn't I use that lost month more intelligently? (Reply to self: Dumb question. You're out here now, and that's what matters.)

2. How come so many guys -- even thin guys -- wear those little mini-bra sort of thingies? Will those of us who don't have "droopy chest" when we're old from all the bouncing up and down? I've never seen this addressed even on runners' boards, and never thought about it seriously until today... anything not to think about how hard the run was!

3. How come the two dudes talking about Wicca as I ran by all the sudden started laughing and loudly talking about, "No, we don't do sacrifices!" Oh. I forgot I'm running shirtless and about my giant crucifixion tattoo on my back. Sigh. I thought about calling to them to go check out our Sacred Tribes website and experience a little de-constructing of paradigms, but I didn't. Already pretty worn at that point...

4. I liked the free Propel stuff they wre handing out on the bike trail today, esp. after sputtering and run-walking my way through the last miles of the 13 miler. I'd just been wishing for something more than warm fountain water, and the Propel tasted cold and just sweet enough. But why the Propel towel? I took one reflexively, then handed it back apologetically. Who wants to run with a towel in one hand, even for two or three final miles?

5. And finally, watching all those runners with CARA (Chicago Area Runners Association), the AIDS Foundation, and quite likely other running groups, it did make me wonder: "Gee, Trott, what would happen if next year you hooked up with CARA instead of doing this all by your little lonely rebel self?" Hmm. Good question. Maybe I'll have to see.

Confession is Good for the Sole... er, Soul

2005-07-29T16:15:00.000-07:00

Oakey doakey. First I blow off the Cstone 5k, for the not entirely bogus reason that I was working long days at the fest and didn't really feel up to it. Not convinced? Nah, me neither. Second, and worse, I go to Montana for my vacation and don't do any running at all. I mean, not one day. Yes, I did a little hiking in Glacier Park and a lot of driving and walking around my hometown... bla bla bla. There was also a funeral and a class reunion and... ah, give it up, Trott.

Anyway, I'm back to it this week, with a 4, 6, and 3 miler under my belt. Tomorrow a 13 miler, which might or might not be a little on the ugly side. Probably will be, actually, since my body can't be any more conditioned than I make it. Sigh... but isn't running this week the most sincere sign of repentance? Hehehehe.

2005-06-22T17:02:00.000-07:00

Just short of three miles south of Jesus People USA's 920 W. Wilson home, where I live. The Sears Tower (America's tallest building since the tragic 9/11/01 World Trade Center disaster) is the black building at the center of the photo, while LSD (Lake Shore Drive) is the freeway in the foreground. I'm standing just off the Chicago Lakefront Bike Path as I take this photo.

Week 3 Looks like a washout...

2005-06-22T16:44:00.000-07:00

Due to this flu thing, I haven't run yet this week. Today was supposed to be the 6 miler. Tomorrow is supposed to be a 4 miler. I doubt I'll do it... my system is simply not back yet. I head for Cornerstone Festival's Cornerstone Farm tommorrow, which means lots of driving but no running. At least, I don't think I'll run. Anything's possible.

The real trick will be staying consistent once I get out there, then head for Montana right after the festival is over (we leave July 5). Will I run while also doing a class reunion, a visit to Glacier Park, and other fun stuff? I'd better. That marathon isn't going to go on hold for me!

Yes, the Flu

2005-06-20T15:47:00.000-07:00

Hmmm. Turns out all that worry about my runs was indeed unfounded. I was sick with the flu. Strange to say I'm happy about that; it explained what otherwise was an irritating, worrisome mystery. My running wasn't going badly; my body was simply trying to let me know all was not well on an ameoba-based level! So, now maybe I'll pay attention to my body's signals: if I keep feeling dizzy and tired, maybe it is a signal to hang the shoes up for a day.

I'm supposed to do three miles tomorrow morning. We'll see.

2 Weeks Down... GI Tract Woes & Weakness

2005-06-20T10:39:00.000-07:00

Rough week on the running trails. I think I've got some sort of bug, maybe a GI-centered flu thing. Though the 3 - 5 - 3 mile runs on Tue - Thursday went fine, my Saturday 5 miler and Sunday 11 miler were bad. Sunday especially, with lots of walking. I had to force myself not to turn around early and just forget it. Instead, I ran all the way downtown so I was forced to complete the 11 miles whether I wanted to or not. The Father's Day morning was beautiful, cool weather (in the high 60s), but the energy tank went toward "E" by the time I hit 6 or 7 miles. A combination of running and walking got me home.

Sometimes I have to trust that the long-run picture will come together even if the short-term one seems messed up to an extreme. That's what I am banking on.

2005-06-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

The Chicago Bike Trail, 1/2 mile from my front door. Lakeshore Drive is just on the other side of the fence, and at times the two are only feet apart. On one run, I actually came upon a car that had run off Lakeshore Drive onto the bike path; it also had hit a tree and shards of wreckage were everywhere. I couldn't help pondering what would have happened had a runner -- me? -- been there just minutes earlier when the car crashed.

1 Week Down, 17 Weeks to Go...

2005-06-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I ran my 10 mile "LSD" -- long slow distance -- run. Or should I say, I ran most of it. I ended up walking on and off during the last few miles, probably between a half and full mile walking if added together. But no matter. Between heat and early mornings and piling my runs close together, I don't think I can expect to not find resistance. My body is not currently in that great of shape for the amount and speed of running I'm trying to work toward. But it is nice to be done with the first week. Today is a "cross-training" day (weight-lifting, swimming, or the like), but I'm going to blow it off most likely and let it be a day of full rest; I think my body really needs it.

It is a good thing to reflect on accomplishments large and small. They provide me with historical touchstones that encourage and remind me to press on, to remember what is possible and what has even already been done.

Whining doesn't cut it: It's not supposed to be easy!

2005-06-11T12:51:00.000-07:00

This past week, I've run mornings and felt crummy every run. A couple times, I even had to walk. This is only the first week of marathon training, so what gives? For one thing, my guts never have liked running in the morning; queasiness and, well, gas accompany such efforts. For another thing the days have been very warm -- 70s even in the early morning and quite humid, high 80s by mid-day.

But I pressed on each morning, and on top of it am trying to increase my speed from a 9:30 minute per mile pace speed to under 9:00 per mile. Interestingly, even though I felt rancid and didn't enjoy the runs this week, I did in fact squeak under 9 minutes every day but one. And that was the day on which, according to Hal Higdon's plan, I was supposed to run more slowly on purpose.

What does that tell me? Well, for one thing, it tells me I'm a whiner. I like running but don't like having to push it. What I really want is a run that doesn't take much from me, a run that is frictionless, effortless, almost sweatless.

Good luck.

If I want to be better -- and of course, in running, my only real goal is defeating myself, my old times for finishing a marathon -- I have to pay for the privilege. Nobody will be mad at me if I stop running so hard, or so long (got a ten miler tomorrow, and more heat in the weather forecast!). In fact, I could stop altogether and no one would complain: people change interests, or lose interest. We're faddish by nature, so why not me?

No, the motivation to run, and to strive to run more effectively, faster, and longer, has to come from some rather obscure and stubborn place within me. I could say it was about wanting to be a better runner, but I think for me it is deeper than that. Running has to have some meaning beyond mere vanity for me; not that I'm unvain--far from it. But vanity is insufficient to motivate someone as dubious about self and self-motivations as I am.

I am compelled to run because I seek symmetry, a sort of stripped down order in things that without force or demands helps to bring order into other seemingly unrelated things. Ah, it is hard to explain. But running for me has become a way to rise up earlier, feel more focused, encounter God in external nature around me as well as in my own physical flesh and muscle. Running is a way for me to push myself out of being an observer, a cursed lover of the abstract, and into being a participant, one who strains toward a goal.

Running is not elegant. Sure, people can buy all sorts of extras, from water belts to global positioning satellite watches. For all runners there are the shoes. But beyond a pair of shoes, shorts, and (not always for me) a shirt, little is required. I have my pair of shades and a crummy hat, which I don't wear as often as I should. Beyond that, there is only the path and my feet and a distance that I set in my mind.

I push it, and will keep pushing it, maybe with success and maybe not. But pushing, which is what makes running hard, is also what makes the runner a better runner. Like a race itself, there are no shortcuts.

Day 2 of the 18 Weeks: Morning Runs

2005-06-07T08:36:00.000-07:00

Many of my posts from here to October 9, 2005 will be about my 18 weeks of preparation for the LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon, which I'm running for TeamCCO. This morning's three-miler was the second day, and first run, of that 18 weeks (yesterday was a cross-training day, so I walked three miles with my dearling.)

I've almost always been successful at avoiding morning runs. Sure, when summer comes, I occasionally go for the morning in order to avoid major heat exhaustion during the day. On long runs, morning also provides a cooler running environment. But my stomach and guts don't like morning exertion very well.

Nontheless, I've decided to make morning my default running time. For one thing, it gets me up and going earlier in the day. For another, it gets my run out of the way first thing, so I can concentrate on what I should be doing instead what I'd like to be doing (running the bike paths!).

This morning, as is usual, my guts didn't like morning. I pressed on, and pushed a bit since it was a short run. And whaddya know, I ran one of my fastest three milers (if not THE fastest) I've run. Hey, only 8:30 per mile, which is slow for many folks. But to me, that looked real good on the stopwatch. More interesting, I got quite an endorphin rush about a half hour after getting home. Guts quiet, even after coffee. Hmmm.

And now I can get to work, John Coltrane playing sweetly in the background. God is so good!

Lakeshore Marathon: at 27.2 miles, it made news for the wrong reasons

2005-06-03T20:26:00.000-07:00

Well. The Lakeshore Marathon this last memorial day, the one sponsoring the half-marathon I ran in as well, is in hot water. Turns out both the half and full marathons were long. The marathon was a whole mile longer... and it gets even worse. Runners who see a 25 mile marker, then a mile later hit a SECOND 25 mile marker... well, if you don't run, you don't get just what a mental and physical blow to the core that is. Wow, am I glad I didn't run the marathon portion this year. I did run it last year -- my first marathon ever -- and it was pretty badly run then, too. This year, unbelievably, was worse. CARA, the Chicago Area Runners Association, is demanding Mark Cihlar of Lakeshore Marathon Co. resign.

People found the story fairly compelling. It went from the front page of the Chicago Tribune to ABC's "World News" back to Chicago's local TV channels. A lot of runners were running for a "BQ" (Boston Qualifying time) or a "Preferred Start" designation for the fall LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon (which I'm also running, Lord willing, for TeamCCO's homeless charity). Now, all that is up in the air for many of them.

What was really sad about this is that God showed up with his best stuff. The day was absolutely gorgeous, perfect running weather at barely 60 degrees at the 6:15am start, and a wonderful cool breeze off the lake. The sky was a uniform blue, kissing the lake and the Chicago skyline. The path unwound in front of us past the Shedd Aquarium and Museum of Natural History (where my parents met, by the way). It went out onto the legendary Navy Pier, then back onto the lakefront through trees of a wonderful variety. (God got a little help from the City of Chicago's Park District on that!)

But it left me sad. Sad for Mark, who has done four years of races that pretty much left people either scratching their heads or asking "Can't you count?!" It also left me thinking, as usual, about God. Isn't that the way it goes? God does what He always does. And then we show up, and the trouble starts. God gives us perfection, and we botch it not just for ourselves but for everyone else.

Well... there's always next year! In Mark's case, I confess, the jury is still out.

Not Exactly "Greased Lightnin'"

2005-06-01T13:18:00.000-07:00

My exact race results for the Lakeshore Half-marathon are as follows:

Out of 887 runners who finished, I came in 432nd. Out of 37 middle-aged farts in the 45-49 yr old bracket, I came in 21st. My times were 1:00:42 for the 10k, and 2:08:48 for the entire 13.1 miles.

Interestingly, a debate over times for the half-marathon has erupted. This same thing happened last year. A number of runners with GPS (global positioning satellite) watches say their times were way off, as in the course was measured wrong and was too long.

Gee, that would mean I ran faster than I thought I ran. Which would be okay with me. But it wouldn't be cool that Lakeshore Marathon has, for the fourth year, messed up badly. I hope it isn't true, and that the reality can be resolved one way or another.

Meanwhile, since time wasn't my big issue anyway, I did have a good run on a beautiful day. Now, on to getting ready to start the 18 week training schedule for The LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon!

Perfect Day for a Race... If I Can Get There!

2005-05-30T08:13:00.000-07:00

Memorial Day, 2005, in Chicago dawned bright and early. I had every thing laid out, my race number already affixed to my shirt, my shorts on the chair waiting, the raggedy pair of once-nice running shoes each stuffed with a pre-tested sock. The electronic racing chip and my runner's stop watch completed preparations. The car was right out back and all was ready... I thought. My dear wife agreed to drop me off and pick me up after the race; I confidently assured her I'd run around a 2 hr 10 min race, so she could set her watch accordingly.

Well, all was well until we got outside the next morning. Our car's parking spot is a parallel one, and another driver had parked her car directly in back of ours, blocking it in completely. It was an illegal park, but that didn't do a thing for me. I ran around rather frantically trying to find someone else at Jesus People who was up and might have a car. No luck. It was now little more than forty-five minutes before the race, and it started behind Soldier Field (where the Bears play football). Not exactly next door. I was half freaking, but half resigned. I was going to (a) miss the race, and (b) be out the $70 entrance fee.

One last try. I knocked on pal Chris Ramsey's door. A sleepy Sandy answered, and soon I'd talked Chris into giving me a ride in one of the vans used to aid folks at our homeless shelter. Sleepily he pulled on his socks, while I tried not to be hyper about the fact that the race start was now about 25 minutes away.

Outside, as we jumped into the delapidated van, I realized it was a gorgeous day. Rolling down Lakeshore Drive, the sun shone off a Lake Michigan that looked as smooth as glass. Not a cloud in the sky, and just below 60 degrees. Oh, man! This was a great day to run.

But would we make it? It was now nearly 6 am, with race time marked at 6:15. Memorial Day traffic -- or should I say lack of traffic -- helped immensely. Chris pulled off the 18th Street exit with about seven minutes to spare. There were a few runners walking toward a distant starting point, the "Great Lawn" behind Soldier Field. I hopped out, thanked Chris, and headed toward the start.

Oh, great. I'd just started a friendly chat with a couple other runners (we were near the back) when I realized nature was calling. No portos anywhere, though. Then, only 2 minutes before my "wave" of runners -- the last wave of marathoners and half-marathoners -- was supposed to take off, I spotted a row of porta-pots. Bam. In I went, did my biz, and made it back out with about 60 seconds to spare. Whew!

And off we went.

Only as the race began did I relax. I was aiming for just under a 10 minute mile pace, which would bring me in at 2 hrs 10 minutes, or a little less. My wild side wondered about pushing it a little. "Don't be stupid -- you haven't even trained right for this thing. Just run a consistent race that will make you feel good about running steadily; anything faster and you'll end up walking at the end!" These dire warnings from the runner within I heeded.

Did I mention what a gorgeous morning it was? And it only got better. Winding around Soldier Field, we next wended past the Shedd Aquarium and Adler Planetarium, the running path rimming Shedd's huge glass wall. On the other side of the path, the lake. Just beautiful. The kind of a day that I'd have to poke my eyes out in order not to feel spontaneous worship bubble up within...

Winding past Shedd, Adler, and the Field Museum, we worked our way toward Navy Pier. Now, this is a new addition to the Lakeshore Marathon. But we ran out onto Navy Pier this year, and it was fascinating. All the years I've lived in Chicago, Navy Pier remained unexplored. I mainly know it for the giant ferris wheel that can be seen from most of the north side's shoreline. So it was great, running the length of the Pier and back again. Plus, we got a few minutes' shade, which already was welcome due to the intense sunshine.

My legs felt achy early in, and no wonder; there was no real training for this thing, though I did do quite a bit of running over the last month or two. Trouble is, it was in fits and starts. Like doing a 22 mile week followed by a 5 mile week... or worse. But I did ramp up, and after that 10 miler a week or so back I knew I had to try and do a half-marathon.

The other really great thing that happened today was that I found myself slowly but systematically passing people. It was no zooming past thing, just easing on by. But the longer the race got, the more I noticed it happening. One or two people passed me (that I noticed), but I really did find myself "reeling in" runners in front of me. It not only was great from the point of view that it let me know I was running decently, but it also was a mind game that helped me not slow down. "I can get by that group," I'd tell myself. "Just get by that one guy there, that one girl here..." It helped me from focusing too much on the big picture.

The Lakeshore Marathon folks, likely smarting from harsh (and deserved!) criticism from last year's botched half-marathon, made sure this course was laid out very well and easy to navigate. The turn around, which came near Fullerton Avenue, was a touch too sharp, but overall I give Lakeshore Co. a big thumbs-up for the improved course layout. Mind, that's only the half-marathon. I can't speak to the full marathon course, though would expect if anything they did a better job on that than the half.

I began feeling it after the turn around. But because I was watching my time, I knew that the turn around had come well past the half-way point, and that likely we were not going to run out onto Navy Pier again (I was correct), and instead would take the fastest, shortest route back to the finish line. Again, I played mind games. I imagined four miles out in front of me, and then began castigating myself for being so wimpy about a mere four mile run. That seemed to work, as did ignoring some stomach disquite caused by whatever the sports drink was we were given. (Yes, Lakeshore Co. also did better on having drinks than they did last year, though again, by running the half-marathon, I may have missed out on problems which occurred last year for me and all the medium to slow marathoners.)

I kept reeling in the runners in front of me, even though the last two miles seemed quite long and my legs seemed less willing to cooperate than they should have. The sun was getting warmer, even though the temp still hovered in the lower 60s -- I pitied the marathoners who still had two more hours (if as slow as I am) in that sun.

Around the glassed in front of Shedd Aquarium again, and on toward Soldier Field, I actually accelerated slightly, and then quite a bit as the finish line came into view. I passed a young runner I hadn't thought I'd catch, his long blondish head turning my way as if to admit defeat (hehehehe.... o, YEAH!).

I crossed the finish line, exhilarated despite realizing it was after all only a half-marathon. And though a minute or two of heavy breathing seemed necessary, only a little while later and I felt perky and fairly refreshed. My watch's "unofficial" time said 2:08:50, darn close to being the exact time I'd expected (or maybe merely hoped?) to run. Only after a while did I drift over to get my finisher's medal. Let's hear it for medals. I grabbed a banana from the tables of stuff and wolfed it down, then took another for later. The cookies looked nice, but nah. More water seemed to the point. I avoided the sports drink -- just doesn't make my guts sing hallelujiah.

I'd pinned a bus pass to my bib number as insurance, though after the car debacle, it had become my sole hope for getting home without walking. (The pin was necessary because my shorts had no pockets!) Despite the pass' sweat-soaked condition, I had no problem using it within a minute of walking over to Shedd Aquarium's bus stop a quarter mile from the finish line. I took #146 all the way to Montrose and Marine, then got off for a four block walk home.

And now, here I sit. Having downed more water and having eaten a fairly disgusting "soft" granola bar (I like those old, hard as nails, granola bars!), I now am a lazy dog for the day. My wife has some wonderful chili in the cooker that has been on all night.How would Homer say it? "Mmmm. Chili!" I'm waiting eagerly to dig in.

I'm also waiting for Lakeshore to post race info, and hope they're going to do so directly. Right now, on their new website, there's not even a link for race results. I think their outfit is a sort of small-town outfit doing a big town event, so I cut 'em some slack. Just for $70, not much.

My thoughts on Lakeshore are these. I think the course is simply outstanding, and the course is what sells it to those in the know. I also think that a person can hardly go wrong doing the Lakeshore half-marathon in particular; perfect place, perfect day, perfect distance for such a day.

In the end, I felt incredibly blessed to even get to run the 2005 Lakeshore Half-Marathon. Despite a careless neighbor's thoughtless act, a friend came to the rescue and helped me indulge in something I love. It, like everything, is all about grace.

2005-05-29T12:17:00.000-07:00

Coming or going, the Chicago Bike Trail always calls. Note the roller-blader on the far left... One has to deal with roller-bladers and bikes, but then, they have to deal with us runners as well. The intersection is at 4400 North, that is, Montrose Avenue.

What's the Big Deal?

2005-05-29T10:14:00.000-07:00

Funny what a big deal I make out of running a race, whether marathon or half-marathon. Vic Williams, a good friend (and also one of my pastors), can't even recall all the marathons he's done. For me, each one is important. Of course, I've only run 2 marathons and (as of tomorrow, Lord willing) one half-marathon, along with an 8k and a 5k. Vic? He smiles and shrugs. No idea.

It makes me think about the difference between a newer believer and someone who's followed Jesus for decades. I don't mean given God lip-service, now. I mean, followed. Experienced the pain and the pleasure and the discipline of pursuing God's will....

A new believer, properly mind you, is excited about every new step of growth, seeing it as something astonishing. A long time believer begins to pay less attention to her or his own growth, not because it is unimportant but because God, not growth, is at the center of mature faith's focus.

I'm a relatively new runner, so I keep paying attention to each little accomplishment. Vic pays attention to the running itself, because in the end, the important thing is to keep running. That doesn't mean he isn't interested in techniques to improve, keeping track of his training, and so on. But I suspect there's an element of near-forgetfulness about all that. The focus is on what has become an intrinisic part of life itself; the running. And I believe and hope that one day maybe it will seem more like that for me.

Christian-wise, I've been running that race for 32 years. I believe I'm not as focused on myself as I used to be. Should I make it another 32 years, I suppose I'll be even more forgetful of each race, or even each step foward, and more aware of the joy of running as well as the necessity of it. Like breathing, running after God will become an unconscious necessity.

Lakeshore 13.1, Here I come!

2005-05-26T16:07:00.000-07:00

I'm doing it. I am going for the Chicago Lakeshore half-marathon.

Last night, weary and dubious from a long week and day, I had the sign-up web page in front of me, had filled in all the info, but hadn't clicked the final button committing to the race. I was having an "are you nuts?!" moment. My wife looked at me and said simply, "You should do it. You deserve it."

Wow. I deserve it? That's hardly very good theology. According to Christian understanding, the point is precisely that we're getting what we don't deserve. And thank God. What we deserve is eternal separation from God, trapped in our own self-gawdizing consciousnesses. What we get is love, unmerited favor, called "grace" or agape (the greek word for this astonishingly unique love).

Despite all that, what my wife meant when she said "You deserve it," was that to her I deserved it. And that was really, really sweet. She knew I was a little tired, a little cranky, and wondering why the heck I was thinking about racing. "It will be fun for you," she finished.

Now that's a little wierd to an observer who might ask, "How can running a 13.1 mile race be understood as being either relaxing or fun?" Hmmm. I can't really explain it, but both are true. It is relaxing and it is fun. It is also quite demanding, and because of my not exactly training for this race as one is supposed to train, I may feel physical stress both during and after the race. But I will also feel joy. And that's the stuff my wife thinks I deserve... she loves me, that is why she says that.

God loves me, too. And I think when it is something pure and good I am pursuing, he knows joy when I find joy.

Maybe he even thinks I deserve it. Ha, what a thought!

Lakeshore Half-Marathon? Hmmm....

2005-05-25T08:02:00.000-07:00

I'm tempted to sign up for Chicago's Memorial Day Lakeshore Half-Marathon this year. Last year, the Lakeshore full marathon was my first marathon ever. So I have a warm spot in my heart for it, despite the fact that it was fairly badly run (they ran out of Gatoraid and even water about 2/3 of the way through the race!). There were also complaints last year that the half-marathon distance was goofed up, that instead of being 13.1 miles it was (I think) made a bit longer. That doesn't concern me much; most folks who care about that stuff are the fast ones who compete against their previous records and maybe even for the prize money. Me, I'm out there to finish. But of course it is only professional to have the right distance if you say it is going that distance; I hope these people get it right this time.

The race does cost $50, which I'd have to wave goodbye to in the midst of trying to save up for a summer trip to my boyhood home. (Fort Benton, Montana, high school reunion... thirty years!? I'm not that old!)

One other humorous memory from the 2004 Lakeshore Marathon... They had said in their literature that at the end of the race, there would be massages. I had no idea how good that would sound until in fact I'd run (and walked some!) 26.2 miles! I hurt everywhere, and hunted down the massage folks immediately after I got my finisher medal. Well, it turned out they were Scientologists. The woman in question's idea of a massage was to -- I kid you not -- wave her hands over my body without touching one inch of all that aching, screaming muscle! I think she was into massaging my aura or something; complete silliness. It was all I could do not to start laughing aloud. What did feel good was just lying there on the ground. When she asked me if I felt better, I truthfully replied, "Yep," meaning the ground had helped. Hehehe...

Spiritual lessons to be drawn? Well, maybe that you should bring your own physical therapist to your marathons if you can afford one, and avoid any massage therapist wearing a Scientology (or John Travolta) T-shirt! I have a few friends who are Scientologists, and despite our sharp differences over Christ vs. L. Ron Hubbard, I enjoy talking with them. But again, Scientologists do not for good massages make.

Not much depth to this installment, nor much mysticism. Sometimes even the Buddha is laughing...

2005-05-22T23:28:00.000-07:00

Wow. What a beautiful weekend. I walked 6 miles, taking pictures along the way, on Saturday. This shot is near my 3 mile point on the Lakefront Bike Path; the boat was a cool accident. [Click on picture for a larger, 1000x768, view.]

On Sunday (today) I ran 10 miles at a nice 9:30 mile pace. And I had a great endorphin rush after I got home... along with a bit of a burn (I ran with no shirt, crazy me).

Sharpening Fog (or, "To Obscure is to Reveal")

2005-05-19T17:45:00.000-07:00

The weather report said, "high chance of rain." The laptop reveals cloud formations in sinister oranges and reds, headed for Chicago. A one hour run vs a racing storm. Chance accepted. Hurried undressing, redressing, shoe-tying and stop-watch affixing. No sunglasses today.

Overcast sky, ominous or ambiguous? The Chicago Bike Trail's Wilson junction meets feet. Two Saucony shoes, their dulled greys and oranges in need of replacement, plodding a 9 minute mile pace.

The trees behind the Wilson stone house near Lakeshore Drive emerge from the fog that suddenly seems to lower down over everything. Disquieting. Bikes and runners and dog-walkers appear suddenly from the white emptiness ahead as though rescued from oblivion, or just created and born.

The golf course between Montrose and Irving Park is there. But white emptiness encroaches at the edges, eating away the solidly boring fairway. A golfer fades in and out like bad radio reception. Beyond, no Lake Michigan. Emptiness.

From the fog a sharply defined, mangy, mean-looking dog on the leash of a young black man. He -- the dog -- peers up and is revealed as charlatan, friendly tail-wagger. His young friend smiles guardedly, fades away behind.

Far off things do not exist. All that exists is close, sudden and sharp edges against the white mask behind it. Trees emerge like spiders or sudden cracks in a sheet of white glass. Pay attention, then, to the close things. They are all there is. Nothing else can be trusted.

By the golf course, curves and then a long straight stretch of Bike Path. Which seems to rise and rise into an absolutely pristine white-grey nothingness. Concentrate on what is real, not what you see. The tennis courts with their seasonal banner announcing whatever the Chicago Park district is doing next, and the wood fence, and the totem pole, and around. The white is thick, then thin, then thick again, as if teasing.

Belmont harbour boats appear out of the whiteness only in partial detail, some barely visible at all. One looks like a chinese sloop, something lost like everything else, falling from the edges of the world.

Past Belmont's underpath, shoes still stay true to the lakeshore trail rather than turn. The whiteness is greying out, getting thicker. A giant street light pole lies on the ground near the path, as if someone careless forgot to put it away. The air is thick with wet; shirt drips with condensed whiteness.

The end of the world comes just short of three miles from home, signs and fences announcing the path is closed from Diversy on. Five point eight, no, point seven, miles will be the round trip. No lake exists even though it is mere yards away. Hand out to the fence's "no," a touch of the cold metal links, and the faded shoes turn back.

Just past Irving Park, the rain begins, knocking the few remaining blossoms from trees along the way. Curving past the golf course and the Peace Garden, the whiteness does not lessen even as cold rainy reality tries to dissipate it. Trees become real close by, but twenty yards off fade again, the shoes beating time now with a heart sped up some with worry about thunder and lightening. The storm never quite shows up.

When did the white shirt become transparent with the foggy day's caresses? When did the runner notice that the things near were, and usually are, even more interesting than the far off things? When did the runner know that running when it seems unsafe is often a good thing, even a revelatory thing?

To obscure is to reveal. Not the hidden things that are, after all, too much for a mere runner to know in his finitude. But the things that are close, that can be easily seen by one not too busy clocking his time or watching the horizon, those are the things worth seeing. Those are the things that have clarity, meaning, and can lead a soul to God more quickly than all the mooning poets or intellectual pontificators.

God sometimes is in the single tree, the single branch emerging from the whiteness. A single leaf, if truly seen, is enough to draw a gasp of newly-discovered wonder from the runner's labored chest. The fog kisses the runner as he nears his home, the fog of love that blankets everything, soaking a mostly ambivalent and uncaring world with the unloved caresses of a Savior's hands.

The Running Cure?

2005-05-10T07:43:00.000-07:00

Man, has the last week been annoying. I've been sick with something -- not "in bed" sick, but dragging around exhausted, even getting hit with a few dizzy spells, along with aches and pains body-wide that made me wonder if I was the victim of a flu bug. I was about ready to toss in the macho towel and go to the doctor. But first, I tried a cure that has worked in the past. And it worked again, though I don't advise this for others.

I ran through it.

The worst day was two days ago. And it was also my long-slow-distance day. I literally had to drag myself outside, and as I started running felt all the aches and pains. And as I ran, they didn't really lessen. But I did notice my energy level stayed the same, and maybe even increased, during the six miler. I actually pushed it a little on the way back, and by the time I arrived at 920 Wilson's front door, was wiped.

But the next day, it was if the toxins (whatever they were) had been sweated out of me. I was weak, but went out again and did a four miler with a little bit of speedwork tossed into the mix. Nothing too fast -- my speedwork is another runner's jog, most likely -- but still, it really worked me to the limit.

Today, I feel great. My body is not achy and my legs are telling me it is time for a run. I suppose I'll have to listen.

The mystical element in all this? Sometimes, if we listen to our body, it lies. Sometimes our feelings lie. If we go with what has worked before, it often works again, despite our feelings that day. I may not feel like finishing the book of Romans today, but since I've been reading it for the past two weeks, just might go ahead and do it anyway. I may not want to take time out of a busy schedule to be intimate with God. But if I've been doing so for the past month, at least on most days, chances are I will do it again today. Despite my feelings.

And most likely, my feelings will come into alignment with my actions. I'll feel intimate with God after I act intimate with God, just as I feel like a healthy runner after I run. There's really no other way to be a runner than to run. And there's no other way to be an authentic Christian than to pursue God, knowing all along He's the one really running after us. As the Song of Songs (Song of Solomon) suggests, on both a romantic / sexual and spiritual level, intimacy is not something we have by default. The woman calls to her lover, "Make haste, my beloved, and be like a gazelle or a young stag upon the mountains of spices!" Run! As fast and as faithfully as we can, we pursue the Beloved and are pursued by Him. We run because on some level, we love running. And we pursue Christ because we are His Beloved, and need him like a runner needs oxygen.

Wonders of Walking

2005-04-30T11:57:00.000-07:00

The legs were tired today, along with the rest of me. And it was a rest day. Instead of opting for a complete do-nothing, I grabbed a friend and took a six mile walk.

How restful! We talked politics (see my bluechristian blog for that), our wives, our work, but mainly just enjoyed the gentle workout along with the cool, cloudy, but almost breezeless day along Lake Michigan.

Sometimes, a break from running routine doesn't have to mean dropping all semblance of exercise. Some folks lift weights, do a gentle aerobic exercise workout, or something even milder such as Pilates or stretching. Hey, even doing sit-ups during the advertisements while watching TV works.

That's how it is in the inner life. Do something just a little different. Light a candle while you pray. Do a Bible study on something you actually care about rather than something that seems "spiritual." (Hey, maybe do one on runners of the Bible! Or maybe look for lovemaking techniques in the Song of Solomon!) Read a good Christian novel... and no, I don't mean Left Behind. Try a Francois Mauriac novel such as Woman of the Pharisees, or maybe Walker Percy's The Second Coming. No, there's no rapture in it, but there is a whale of a lot of good writing... and a runner! (He only gets a bit part, and isn't all that wholesome of a character, but you can't have everything.)

Sometimes, walking after all that running is like rediscovering one's first love. Kind of wonderful!

Running to Stand Still

2005-04-29T08:28:00.000-07:00

Sometimes running is about staying in one place.

I've been trying to get rid of about 10 to 15 extra pounds, and somehow just can't get past a certain number on the scale. I'd be at my correct BMI (body mass index) if I could just get rid of this little amount of weight. But somehow, I can't quite pull it off.

Which is not a bad thing, necessarily.

Sometimes, even if I'm not actually losing any weight, staying at one weight is good. And as much running as I've been doing, the old Weight Watcher stuff hasn't quite worked. Counting "points" gets more complex when you're doing a lot of running. Or, like this week, when suddenly I had to skip four days of running due to attending an all-day conference four days in a row... that wreaks havoc on how I'm burning energy, fat, and the rest of it.

So, I realized this week that it is best to lose weight, but second best is to maintain a weight over time. Running can make all the difference in either of those goals.

Where's the mystical element in that? Well, when I'm staring at the scale or staring inward at my spiritual condition, I'm likely seeing things in only a short-term way. And unlike a scale, which pretty much is an accurate representation of my healt-related success, my inward eye cannot always see accurately the true condition of my heart. Only God can. So while it is good to work on my inward life, just as it is good to run, it is also good to trust more in long-term results rather than short-term data that may or may not have much to do with how I'm actually progressing.

That's not so deep.... trust the discipline to produce results. But if it is so simple, why is it so hard?

The Importance of Rest

2005-04-22T09:31:00.000-07:00

For the entirety of last week, I made like a maniac. Chicago's weather was cool yet sunny, and I ran anywhere between four and eight miles a day for nearly the entire week. I love sunny, cold days! They say a runner's body tempature feels about ten degrees warmer than the actual temperature once he or she gets going. But that's the trouble... along came a hot day, and when I tried running a five miler, my body simply refused to go the last half-mile. The next day, I did run five miles at a slower pace. And the next day, I started thinking about it. And suddenly I knew I should not. I was tired -- bone tired. I thought about doing some weight training and that, too, just seemed a bad idea.

I looked at my running log -- a solid week of good runs, along with one six and a half mile speed walk along Lake Michigan. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. Running is not always the right thing to do! Sometimes rest is right, good, and healthy. I took the day off, content.

Yesterday, I went out for an LSD run (that's "long slow distance" not a drug reference). And eight miles only got better and better as I ran! Sore at first, as I went along I felt the weariness drop away, and at the end I nearly decided to even go farther. Only a realization that Ididn't want to overdo things stopped me.

Amazing what a little rest day will do!

Pushing It Too Hard?

2005-04-16T17:31:00.000-07:00

Jumping the spring training up too quickly is, everyone says, a bad idea. But today was the third of four almost perfect April days and my feet and body overruled common sense. So now I'm sore and achy, and completely unrepentant. Sun, sixty-something degrees, and just a breeze? Heck, I'm going out again tomorrow!

Running Badly... Isn't All that Bad!

2005-04-12T17:58:00.000-07:00

"Anything worth doing is worth doing badly." - G. K. Chesterton

I recently pondered my running career... if one can call it that. In high school, I ran cross-country. A 1.5 mile race over a golf course seemed like such a big deal back then, both in distance and speed. Never was I able to finish higher than the bottom of the top third of runners, despite the fact that I ran more miles in practice than any of the other guys on my team.

In my forties, running again became the joy it was to me as a younger person. But my finishing times in almost every race I've entered put me smack dab in the middle of the pack. My infamous 2004 LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon run, which including barfing on the subway on the way home, had me finish behind nearly two thirds of the other runners. I had religiously followed Hal Higdon's training schedule -- that was evident the next day when my legs didn't even hurt and all my friends were hobbling around like ninety year olds. But why the lackluster performances?

There has to come a point when running isn't about "winning" -- at least, that is the hard truth I've accepted. Running is about... well, running. And sometimes, running badly is all you're going to get.

Is it worth it? Is the crisp air on a March morning, the sound of the wind in the trees, the gentle slap slap of my feet on the pavement, worth running badly? Is the feeling of the muscles, bones, heart, and lungs, working together as one, worth it? Are the years of health I'm winding back onto my life clock, the loss of useless TV blubber and once dangerously high cholestorol worth being a bad runner? And finally, is the joy I feel in running, the sense of -- not to be mystical, but there it is -- love emanating from the trees, sky, nature, my body, worth it? I find myself worshipping the Maker of all of this wonder, this life that my faltering, mediocre way celebrates.

And yes, Chesterton was right. Anything worth doing is worth doing badly. For me, that would be running. See all you other runners out there... I'm the guy you'll be passing!

If you are someone who runs badly, or maybe one of those good runners who passes me, would you think about running for a homelessness charity? The 2005 LaSalle Bank Chicago Marathon, which happens October 9, 2005, has named Cornerstone Community Outreach's TeamCCO as one of its official charities. CCO is where my wife, Carol, works... and they help hundreds of women, children, and two-parent families with housing and housing-related life issues. Log on to the TeamCCO front page, or email me at teamcco[REMOVETHIS]@jpusa.org if you're interested in becoming involved. (Remove the [REMOVETHIS] from the address first.)