Today's run was a 3x3200 workout with someone taking pictures for a story that is supposed to appear in the Baltimore Sun tomorrow. The 3200 meter intervals were each run in 13 minutes or less (12:57, 12:56, 12:53). With a somewhat burning sore throat and a small amount of congestion, I didn't think I would make it through the third one at that pace. But I managed to. I had a friend encouraging me and I dug as deep as I could to make sure that all three met the goals we had set together and run together over the past month. It was an awesome feeling.
It was a lesson as to what it takes to dig deep. Having someone nearby who cared about whether I dug deep certainly helped. Having someone nearby who challenged me to dig deep. Having someone nearby who was digging as deeply as me.
This speaks to me about collaboration as well as about digging deep. When it comes to running, it has been a wonderful collaborative experience ever since preparation for marathon number 1. More collaborative sometimes. Less collaborative others. Right now, I am missing the constant collaboration I had for a while and running a lot of miles alone. Still, I persist.
Collaboration is always more fun for me when I am being helped and challenged and that the person with whom I am collaborating is just as challenged. (On that point, my fellow runner this morning may not have been exactly just as challenged, but he was working pretty hard.)
This can be done at work.
This can be done in volunteer activities.
This can be done in a marriage.
Each of them involves collaboration sometimes. Each of them involves doing things on my own at other times.
On the alone times, I think about silence. With so many meetings and so many relationships to nurture, silence can be good. The other morning I commented about liking going out running and hearing the city awaken. Just yesterday when I walked my dog before my run there were no cars. And I thought of the song we sing at church sometimes, Sacred Silence. A reflective time. A serene time.
In that moment of sacred silence in my life, I thought of the Boston memories coming back to me one more time this past weekend. I finally received my completion certificate and the record book. It is an amazing document. But all the memories of the day and what the experience has meant and continues to mean to me, and my story telling through blogging, and the definition of what matters in my life, came rushing over me again.
This time they passed quickly. Helped by the moments of sacred silence I sometimes steal.
But I realize, again, that in my life, the fact that I was there in Boston that day will always be a part of me. I can never completely leave it behind.
It will affect me and ultimately all with whom I collaborate.
That was a day when I tried to dig deep but felt I had nothing left at the end. Today, I dug deep and had something. I never want to feel like I have nothing left to give ever again. There is always more. And trying harder over and over again is what makes me who I am.
I will still fail sometimes.
But it won't be for lack of trying.
It was a lesson as to what it takes to dig deep. Having someone nearby who cared about whether I dug deep certainly helped. Having someone nearby who challenged me to dig deep. Having someone nearby who was digging as deeply as me.
This speaks to me about collaboration as well as about digging deep. When it comes to running, it has been a wonderful collaborative experience ever since preparation for marathon number 1. More collaborative sometimes. Less collaborative others. Right now, I am missing the constant collaboration I had for a while and running a lot of miles alone. Still, I persist.
Collaboration is always more fun for me when I am being helped and challenged and that the person with whom I am collaborating is just as challenged. (On that point, my fellow runner this morning may not have been exactly just as challenged, but he was working pretty hard.)
This can be done at work.
This can be done in volunteer activities.
This can be done in a marriage.
Each of them involves collaboration sometimes. Each of them involves doing things on my own at other times.
On the alone times, I think about silence. With so many meetings and so many relationships to nurture, silence can be good. The other morning I commented about liking going out running and hearing the city awaken. Just yesterday when I walked my dog before my run there were no cars. And I thought of the song we sing at church sometimes, Sacred Silence. A reflective time. A serene time.
In that moment of sacred silence in my life, I thought of the Boston memories coming back to me one more time this past weekend. I finally received my completion certificate and the record book. It is an amazing document. But all the memories of the day and what the experience has meant and continues to mean to me, and my story telling through blogging, and the definition of what matters in my life, came rushing over me again.
This time they passed quickly. Helped by the moments of sacred silence I sometimes steal.
But I realize, again, that in my life, the fact that I was there in Boston that day will always be a part of me. I can never completely leave it behind.
It will affect me and ultimately all with whom I collaborate.
That was a day when I tried to dig deep but felt I had nothing left at the end. Today, I dug deep and had something. I never want to feel like I have nothing left to give ever again. There is always more. And trying harder over and over again is what makes me who I am.
I will still fail sometimes.
But it won't be for lack of trying.
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