Exercise in Patience

Today's treadmill workout was an exercise in patience as much as it was an exercise of my muscles or cardio system.  I got on the treadmill for a one hour workout.  I ran at 7.5 or 7.6 miles per hour the whole time.  And I reached 7.5 miles (the intended distance with a constant 8 minute mile) with one second to go.  That was because I wanted to make sure I reached the distance.  Part of the flick up to 7.6 miles per hour every once in a while was to make sure I reached my distance before the time was up (1 hour is the default workout) and part of the flick up to 7.6 miles per hour every once in a while was because every treadmill takes time to get to up to speed.  So I always have to do a little adjusting to make sure I reach my intended distance at the intended time.

In any case, running for that long on a treadmill at essentially the same pace is an exercise in patience.  I am tempted to run faster.  I have to resist the temptation to do so, however.  If I do, I open myself up more to injury.  Not that I have had any serious injury in quite some time, but why risk it.

I usually do math.  How many minutes?  How many seconds?  How many gone?  How many left?  What percentage?  When will I hit the next milestone? I even took to counting steps today and found that in a minute I take about 160 steps so that a one hour workout will be a total of about 9,600 steps.  That is pretty amazing.

At the end of one hour today, here is how I looked.  You can't really tell how sweaty my leg is, but trust me, after an hour in a relatively warm fitness room, there were drops of sweat all over the treadmill.  And then, I bundled up with a dry t-shirt, that good old 1985 Upper Darby Cross Country sweatshirt, and the Heather Hurd 5K headband.  It was a morning of things past and things future as the tattoo is significant of both, the sweatshirt and headband are past, the shirt I wore for the workout was also past (from a former student in Ireland).  But, when I run, I run forward and that is always looking into the future.  I know how many miles I have run this year: 1832 in 256 days of running.  Assuming I run each of the remaining days on vacation that will be 260 days of running for the year (essentially 5 days per week) with each run being on average a bit over 7 miles.  That is a lot of time spent running.  I'll have to see whether I can do the same next year or not.  But I hope to continue to set and meet new goals--fitness and otherwise, so I am certainly doing to try.

There are many goals. I have talked about new year's resolutions on a FB note or my blog each year for the past 3 or 4 and I will reflect again this year in a few days.

But one thing that came to mind yesterday that I found I have been returning to multiple times lately is the prayer of St. Francis.  A friend and fellow runner/blogger put up a post yesterday that said "Better to be the one who smiled than the one who didn't smile back." It made me think of the prayer of St Francis.  It has lines like let me seek to console more than to be consoled.  Let me see to understand more than to be understood.  So, I figured a person could add "Let me see to smile at others more than to be smiled at."  

That is really a good plan for life.  Give.  Give.  Give  And when the time comes for you to need to ask others to give back if you have given consistently, there will almost always be people there.  People who can give back in ways that I may never have imagined.  People who are more than willing to give back because of all that I gave along the way.

There is a refrain--the more you put into life, the more you get out of it.  I certainly felt that this year.  There were numerous friends who had job issues, marriage issues, business issues, or running issues.  I was there for them as I could be.  And when there were times I needed to tap into other people's wisdom and kindness, I was able to do so.

I smiled and got smiled back at.

I understood and was understood.

I consoled and was consoled.

Numerous friends have talked about simply surrounding oneself with good people.  The rest will take care of itself.  While it is not always exactly that simple, it goes a long way.

Coming back to where I started with an exercise in patience--the relationships that one must build to live life surrounded by others who share values and who share goals and who are "good" do not always come in a day or overnight.  Sometimes they require weeks, months, or years of development.  But with investment, patience, and an awareness of how special the outcome can be (of a well built friendship or of well build fitness) the ultimate goal and ultimate answer will be strong and amazing. 

But while

I was running, in addition to showing patience and resisting the urge to go faster, I was ponder  

The Spirituality of Advent, Day 5, Week 1

This week of focusing on hope has also been focused on mortality.  This is a very interesting pair.  Although in the church, it is not a pair that is surely an oxymoron.  Mortality brings hope for resurrection for those who believe in such things.  

The experience of mortality can take multiple formats.  Mortality can be experienced as just knowing that someone passed away.  Mortality can also be experienced as a funeral with all the emotions that brings.  

Listening to the readings and the music on Monday made me ponder--if I had a choice, which readings and songs would I want to be chosen to represent me.

The readings are somewhat easy.  I would go with the reading from Ecclesiastes that Sherry and I had at our wedding.  Not because I associate the wedding with death, of course.  But because it is timeless and it matches well with one of the songs that was sung at the funeral mass on Monday: Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.  

The Psalm, also easy.  Psalm 23--the Lord is my shepherd, there is nothing I shall want.  In any of its many forms either spoken or musical.  

The second reading--focusing on hope, as well as faith, and most importantly love--1 Corinthians, 13:1-13.  This ends with the verse that started me writing my personal blog.

Finally, the Gospel would be an interesting choice.  I'd actually go with Luke 23:33-43.  Not because I think that the focus on death would be the right thing.  But because of Jesus's forgiveness no matter what the soldiers did and because of the criminal who asked Jesus, "remember me, when you come into your kingdom."  I like the focus on God's kingdom.  And I like Jesus's response.  As Father Sam once pointed out, the criminal is the only one Jesus actually told he would be brought into heaven.

Songs: Amazing Grace, Be Not Afraid, something with Psalm 23, Take My Hand Precious Lord, Take Me Home.  All easy.  All typical.  I'd really have nothing to add on this one.

If there were a communion meditation song that was potentially non-religious, also a theme from Sherry's and my wedding--"Don't Know Much."    Maybe most would see it as a throw back to a "sappy" 1980's love song.  However, I would see it as a song of hope.  There may be many things I don't know.  But I would hope that everyone who showed up at the funeral would be someone to whom I had shown love.  I would hope that everyone who showed up at the funeral would be someone who felt love for me.  Love in a broad, general, friendly sense, of course.  

The key is that it is a song of hope and simplicity.  I only need to know that there is love.  Once I know that, everything else will follow in some way, shape, or form.  And that is a message that I hope others will have seen in my actions.

Comes back to the question of "if I were on trial for being Christian would there be enough evidence to convict me?" I hope that my actions of love and acceptance would be part of that evidence.

The opportunity to have so many messages that are dear to me so clearly communicated by word and music would be wonderful.  Of course, I hope that the opportunity to share these lessons does not come too soon.  While one of the readings on Monday was about the joy of marriage, I find the links to the same readings we used at our wedding to be a way to point out the importance of marriage.  The same fundamental ideas that have guided me for the last 22 1/2 years continue to guide me.  And I suspect they always will.

If those who come to my funeral some day can take with them the lessons that have guided me, I will be understood.  And while Saint Francis's prayer says I should not seek so much to be understood as to understand, at that point, I can't do any more understanding and the best I can hope for is that being understood will inspire others.