A Matter of Words

What I say matters. What I laugh at matters. There is a worldview behind every clever saying and funny joke. The problem seems to be that most people desperately want to think that there is no consequence to the words that they use. If I find it funny or it makes others laugh, why pause long enough to question it's real message. There is an abundance of words and a lack of thoughtful crafting of those words. I argue that what I say and laugh at does matter, that language is a powerful tool that should be handled with wisdom and grace as well as wit.

My Date (Cheyenne Mountain 50K Race Report)

Two days ago, I ran the Cheyenne Mountain 50K. The race was held on the amazing trails of Cheyenne Mountain State Park. It was a 50 kilometer race which is roughly 31 miles for those who struggle to transpose metric to English measures. My husband who had finished the same race last year and I left our house early Saturday morning while my mom and our four kids slept. My mom came from Montana to spend some time with us and to allow my husband and I to run the race together. (Thanks Mom and Dad (for getting by without her for awhile.)) During the drive over, I finally let myself think about what we were really going to attempt in a few short minutes. Looking back, I think that my "refuse to think about the enormity of what you are undertaking so that you don't freak out" mentality hurt my mental race prep and my race performance. After arriving at the park, we began the usual pre-race rituals of checking in, finalizing clothing and gear, and making last minute trips to the restroom. As usual, when the race started, I went out way to fast. After working hard on the first half mile or so, I tried to reign it in and use my breathing and effort as a gauge. The first miles were spent watching my footing, watching the other runners, and remembering the trails from the muddy half marathon that I'd run in October. Having the 25K speedsters moving around me gave me something else to think about and the miles ticked off. Somehow, I missed the sign that warned of two way traffic, so I was a bit surprised when coming down the mountain, I had to avoid runners moving up the trail. I had hoped to see my husband on one of these sections, but failed to see him during that first section. Coming out of the two way traffic, I felt some soreness creeping in, but had enjoyed having other runners around. At this point, my coughing hadn't really been an issue, but my nose had run continually. My legs never felt very strong, but I figured that it was caused by a combination of not having run for three weeks and the terrain. Later in the race, I wondered just how much having had bronchitis the week before was affecting my running. I'd run the first 7-8 miles in 1:23. As I finished the first loop of the four, the distraction of the bustle at the finish line helped me as I headed out on the second lap. The wind was a bit gusty, and I was already making plans to do some hiking up the steeper sections of North and South Talon. Remembering my hill runs at home kept me running up the lower parts of the trail, but as we moved into the trees, I took more and more hiking breaks. I kept eating and drinking especially when I felt my stomach get queasy. During this lap, there were still many runners around me. The presence of other sufferers is somehow very encouraging. Getting to the top of North Talon is a very beautiful and rewarding part of the race, and I took a few moments to look at the magnificent beauty of God's handiwork before descending the other side. Once again, I failed to see my husband on the section with two way traffic. During that descent, the 25K runners were working hard to get to the finish, and I was wondering if the race officials would downgrade my entry to a 25K. The fact that that distance doesn't qualify as an ultra kept the wondering to a fanciful thought in my less than functioning brain. It was at some point during the ascent of Talon, that I finally realized that the signs with the distances on them were "mile markers" rather than directional signs telling which runners should be on that section of the course. I finished the first 15.5 miles in just under 3 and a half hours. I got some food and took salt at the aid station then began the hike for the next two laps. The second lap around the Cougar Shadow side of the loop seemed to take a very long time. I guess that I ran faster the first time than I'd realized. By this point, I was mostly alone with my thoughts on the trails. Seeing a fallen tree, I wondered, "If a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it, does it make a sound? What if a runner walks in the woods and no one sees, does it matter?" The aid station workers were great and asked what I needed. I wanted to tell them that I needed to talk to my husband, but I didn't. I got some food and water and continued my lonely trek through the beautiful forest. I enjoyed the butterflies fluttering around so much that I thought once about sitting on a rock and just watching them. I think that I would have fallen asleep if I'd sat down, so I kept moving. It is amazing the crazy things that you think while alone in the woods after running for four and a half hours. On the way down the two way traffic, I saw the one person that I'd been looking for all day: my husband. He looked discouraged, and I was worried that he couldn't make the cut off at the last loop. I started praying for him as I ran. I'd been thinking of my kids and praying for them all day, but started to much more. I can't even remember for sure what time I made it down from the third loop. I knew that I had time to finish the last lap, but I also knew that I didn't have the legs or the will to make it a fast lap. My plan of going faster on the last laps was impossible. I just wanted to keep moving long enough to cover the miles. Most of the last lap, I was all alone. I was excited that I was still able to run some of the uphill sections even at that point in the race. I ran when I could and walked when I had to. I'd had some problems throughout the day with feeling light headed, but when that happened, I'd drink and take a walk break. I think that it may have been a result of not being able to breath through my nose, or maybe my lungs were not functioning at capacity yet. I'd pulled a muscle in my hip when I was coughing so much, and during the last lap, my groin/hip became very painful and my right calf cramped up. I took more salt and found that for a time, running up hill aggravated my hip, so I had to walk more. Thankfully, the hip pain, though never going away, did lessen. When my left calf began cramping, I took more salt and frantically drank all that I had in my bottle. I'd not planned to stop at the last aid station as it was only two miles from the finish, but I was out of water and starting to dehydrate. I took some fluids, but passed down the offer of a sticky bun! Then I was off to try to get to that illusive finish line. After passing the last search and rescue team, I had some fuzzy vision for a moment, but kept running. I was too close to the finish not to keep moving. I had to take a gel also, as I didn't have the energy even to run on the relatively flat section of the course. The gel helped put desire in my legs. I think that seeing the finish helped some too. I ran in with the last aid station workers saying something about my smile and looked for my husband. I felt sure that he had been cut and would be at the finish to greet me. He wasn't, so I changed and sat to wait the last fifty minutes until the race closed. At five minutes before the cut off, the four wheeler headed out onto the course, I thought, to pick up the last runners. Just after it moved up the trail, there was one last runner coming around the corner. It was my husband. He finished in 8:55 and defended his title of DFL. I think that the best part of my race, was seeing him finish because I know that he worked really hard to get to the finish line. I was proud of his race. After we sat at the deserted finish line so that we could gather the strength to walk to the car, we headed home. On the way we stopped for ice cream. We were quite a sight. My husband videoed me trying to get out of the car. The video has earned many laughs already. By the way, we didn't smell too good either, but we were happy. We enjoyed sharing our stories and our understanding of the event. It was a good date!

Cheyenne Mountain 50 K

My husband is extremely talented. He is smart, funny, wise, and kind. He also happens to be a gifted teacher and coach. Mostly, because he is very good at asking questions and getting to know a person's desires and what motivates him. Then he pushes and prods until the "student" believes that he can do whatever it is that he wants to do, and he goes out and makes an attempt. I have seen this happen over and over again, from my husband's successful coaching of multiple high school teams to his friends who he is always putting up to crazy things that they secretly want to do but are afraid to try.

I have also personally experienced this. It is amazing how my inhibitions or excuses melt away before the logic of my husband's motivation. Case in point: I am signed up to run the Cheyenne Mountain 50K in less than two weeks. I did not sign myself up. I was signed up, by you guessed it, my husband. He did not do it against my wishes, but I wasn't sold on the idea when he sent in the registration. What is a girl to do when the money has been spent(and she really wants to try, but is afraid to admit it?) There really wasn't anything to do but get busy running.

I can't say that I am ready. Thinking about it makes my mouth go dry and my heart rate sky rocket. I'm scared, but excited. The lure of the race is attempting and doing something difficult that I haven't done before. It will be tough. The distance coupled with the trails and the terrain will make for a challenging event, but the trails and terrain will also make it interesting. Here is a chance to try out my mental toughness. A chance to try my hand at something that I love.

I have a feeling that there will be more that one time during the race that I will question my letting my husband get me into this, but at the end, I know that I will be grateful that he knows me so well, and that he loves me enough to put me up to it. Now, if only, I could give him a taste of his own medicine?

Thoughts from the long run

In his message last Sunday, our pastor urged us to look at the Christ on the cross that was pictured in the book of John. He wasn't urging us to contemplate the gore or the suffering of Chris,t although he had talked some about those things the previous week. Rather, we looked at the prophecies that John pointed out were fulfilled in the crucifixion of Christ. Maybe it is the English major in me, but I can't look at the ways that God has orchestrated all of history down to the smallest detail to work His great plan without weeping and laughing simultaneously.

But so what? It makes for good listening on a Sunday morning, but what does the fact that the God of the universe knew hundreds of years before it happened that He would be pierced by His chosen people? What does it matter that God made David a type of His Son? It matters to me, today. Because that same God is still writing the story of the world. We may know the ending of the story, but it is still playing out. My life is part of the whole, the bigger picture. The same God that caused the details of David's life to follow a plan that would point to Christ, is writing the content of my days. He can use my life to point to Him just like He has used countless others. He knows when the details of my life are more than I can carry on my own. He knows when to test me and when to give sweet rest. Like the life of Abraham, He is working in me to grow my faith. He loves me and like the master craftsman that He is, He is lovingly working for me. Nothing in my day today, tomorrow, or yesterday is outside His knowledge and control.

Considering Christ on the cross assures me that He can be trusted with all that I have and am. Nothing, not even the leaving of friends, the uncertainty of our times, or daily trials are more than He can handle. He is God: The Eternal Creator of the Universe, and He loves me and is in control of all that concerns me.

Keeping Track

Maybe,the reason that our children rebel when they are 16 is because they are just responding to us the way that we have taught them to by the way that we have responded to them all of their lives.

I find myself feeling as if my children should know when they are being inconsiderate or selfish or stubborn, and I react to their sinful actions with anger and frustration. Then, I expect them to show grace to me when I sin against them. Such a double standard and unrealistic expectations would make me angry! How can I expect them to respond in a more mature and Christ-like way than I am willing to!

God please help me to grow in Your grace so as to be able to shower it on my children. Love covers a multitude of sin.

What Jesus Didn't Say

"God just said, 'Let there be light,' and Boom! there it was!" exclaimed, our four-year-old daughter with her eyes nearly bugging out of her head. The concept of the power of the words of God had been the subject of her Sunday School lessons for the last few weeks. It was evident that the ideas presented were fascinating to her. (She talks when she is trying to understand and process ideas. She is like someone else that I know.)

Her comments were just another piece in the many that have been swirling in my head for the last while. It seems that God often uses bits and pieces from several sources to drive a concept home to my heart. Lately, it has been the idea of the power of words. One of the names of Christ is The Word. God created using His words. The prophets were often described as receiving "the word of the LORD."

There are myriad of references to what and how we speak in Scripture. "A soft answer turns away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger," is just one well-known example. I've been reading James, and it includes an extensive discussion of the tongue and how we use it.

During this time of year, we've been preparing for our Easter celebrations and talking about what Easter is. I've noticed again that Jesus showed amazing self-control when questioned by Pilate. He didn't say more than was necessary. He didn't let Pilate off the hook, but He also didn't argue with one who really wouldn't be able to understand. As the season progresses, what a great time to think about the words that Jesus said. I imagine that there are a few things to learn even from what He didn't say.

Survival

We made it through another of the husband's trips. This was a long one. Coupled with my not sleeping and other issues, I am happy to have just survived. I was encouraged to have gotten in over 25 miles and also to have taken the plunge and tried out a step class at the gym (while the kids were in their swimming lesson.) My very first exercise class ever. I must say that for this rhythmically challenged girl it went quite well. The worst part was that my calves were VERY sore the next day which was the day that I needed to run my 15 mile run. I did get it in, but it was slower than I'd hoped. At that point, I was just glad to record the miles.

Thinking lots about training programs and the need to add in some serious strength training. My best year of running ever was my senior year of high school. I was buff (due to a head track coach who required all of us to lift three days a week, not just the throwers and jumpers) and my race results proved the value of having muscle strength. Trying to figure out how to work it all into a workable plan especially with the need that my older body is having for more intense stretching. It all takes lots of time.

Speaking of time. . . It is time to move on with the day.