Sing Together

For the second week in a row, Father Sam called on the 5:30 parishioners to sing out. He called on us to do this because it energizes the musicians. Then, they are no longer just performing. He commented on how all who are leading can tell the difference between feeling like they are performing and feeling like they are getting something back from those with whom they are interacting. He described it as setting them free.

The power of doing something together is amazing. I always get emotional when I hear everyone in a church sing. It doesn't happy all that often. But last night it did again. Not so much during the mass. But afterwards at another remembrance for Mark. With the simple words:

There is a lightThat can overcome the darkness.
There is no darkness
that can overcome the light.

While all this is well and good--what happens when you have people who don't want to sing along. Or more geneallly act together?  The power quickly fades. The light quickly fades. And there may be aloneness and nothing.  Or there may be an opportunity to take the situation head on, figure out what I can change, and make the changes so that the world will be a better place even with some who don't want to act together to make it better.  

That is where optimism, a clear sense of self, and a clear sense of what I have to offer become critical.   

What am I Made Of?

So, the last time I blogged I had completed an easy 6 to reach 1408 miles.  On Tuesday I did a progression workout still feeling slightly tired legs from Sunday's 18.  But I was able to do it with miles ranging from 8:15 down to 6:30 in 15 second increments with the last at 8:00.  I stopped twice rather than once (once, because the treadmills at the Y only allow me 60 minutes maximum, and the second time because I must have hit some control that stopped it).  What was nice is that neither time (especially after the second) did I have difficulty getting started again.

Then I ran an easy 7 on Wednesday.  A nice course mostly east at west going no further north than Walker and no further south than Belvedere.

Then, there was yesterday.  Yesterday, I had a track workout scheduled.  I ran the 2.3 miles over to the at an 8:54 pace.  I felt really sluggish.  I had had several long days at work.  I had had a late and very heavy dinner the evening before.  I just wasn't sure if I could meet the goal that had been set: 10x400 at 1:27 +/- 2 seconds.

I took off my water belt and set it by the side of the track.  I took off my shirt and set that by the side of the track as well. I mean--it was 73 degrees at 5:35 in the morning when I was getting ready to leave.

I ran a warm up lap.  Nice and easy--just under two minutes.  Then, I took off.  First one--1:27.  It was great.  I concentrated. I kept my mind completely on what I was doing.  I did not run too hard.  I did not push myself too much.  And I did not look at my watch as I rounded the track.  It felt, just right.

Rest.

Second one--1:27 again.  Same thing.  I was amazed at the consistency.  As I completed my 200 meters of rest after lap 2, I hit the wrong button.  Distracted but not deterred, I corrected my watch and did the third one--1:26.  Stopped purposefully for a small drink of water, ran an active rest 200 meters, and ran the fourth one--1:27.  Feeling good I went on to do the fifth at 1:26, the sixth at 1:26, and the seventh at 1:27.  I thought about taking a drink but waited until after number eight--1:27.  Number eight was tough.  My legs were starting to yell at me after five days of running in a row that included the harder but not raced 18, the progression, and now this.  Number nine--1:26 again.  By that time, I was feeling confident but didn't want to push the last one too hard--1:26.

So, for a workout where I had a watch to time the laps, but I didn't look at my watch except at the end of each lap, I had run the most consistent times ever.  The rounded times were all 1:26 or 1:27.  I think I have found my "natural" fast pace, given the end result.

I ran home the 2.3 miles at a 9:09 pace.

I have never had a workout so consistent before.  All by myself.  Persevering.  Having had to go around two different runners who were running slowly in lane 1.  One with headphones.  A workout on which I had never thought I could do what was planned had turned into one of the most revealing workouts I had ever done.  What can I do?  What can I keep up?   What are my limits?

Hopefully what I pulled out yesterday will translate into a good performance in Sunday's race.  I now have 1432.6 miles.  I am still on US 54 west as I will be for a long while to come.  Making my way west.  Aiming to reach 2000 miles.  As I will likely reach 1500 by mid-September, I am way ahead of schedule.  Life is good.   

Is Everything All Right?

Since I last blogged I have run 6.1 and 5.7 miles easy and an 8 mile progression workout.  Four days.  Three runs.  Adding 19.8 miles so that I stand at 1348 total and continue west on US 400/US 54 in Kansas.

Over the time since I last blogged things have gotten worse in Ferguson MO after an 18 year old who was unarmed was shot and killed by a police officer.  The American involvement in Iraq continues to get deeper again.  Some are already referring to it as the third American War in Iraq in the last 25 years.  The violence in Baltimore at all times of day and in some neighborhoods not used to violence continues.  And Robin Williams was found dead--having committed suicide.  

There has been an enormous amount written about Robin Williams.  This is one of the first stars whom I think of as having been brilliant in so many contexts that I have watched over the years to have died an early death.

He suffered from clinical depression.  He fought drug and alcohol addictions.  He is now said to have been diagnosed the Parkinson's.  That could contribute to or exacerbate the depression.  He had so much going for him.  He had some much going against him.

What I think of most is how man people--even those who were lucky enough to know this brilliant comedian well--were surprised by what happened.

It is a reminder that despite my being told that appearances matter in life, appearances are NOT everything.

It is a reminder that appearances can hide feelings.  Deep feelings.  Dark feelings.  Hurt feelings.  Feelings that are overwhelming.  Feelings that seem so incongruent with success.  Feelings that can lead a person to feel like there is so little reason to live that the choice of death seems preferable.

It is a reminder that I might never know who among my family, friends, and colleagues is feeling this way.

That is scary.  

Some people are in their own world that is separate from the rest of reality, despite being so physically close.

It makes me think of a statement made by my friend Travis when I was running with Travis and Lauren on Sunday (the day on which I ran more miles before 8 AM than I have run total in the last four days).  As we were running along the brick promenade toward the Inner Harbor we looked back to the east and saw the silhouette of a crane standing majestically on the end of an abandoned pier separated from us by overgrown vegetation.  (That actually sounds to me like it might be a great start to a novel...I'll have to think about that.)  

The key is that we coudl see the crane.  We were no more than 75 yards from the crane.  If we had stayed at the start of the overgrown vegetation we would have been no more than 30 yards from the crane.  The crane could see us if it cared to look.  But as it stood there looking majestic (and presumably looking for breakfast in the water), it was essentially in a different world from the three of us running.  It was in its own world.  Was that world as confused and troubled as the world of someone with clincial depression and Parkinson's?  Of course not.  But it was sufficiently different that we had absolutely no understanding of it.  No knowledge.  No insight.  And we could not predict at all what the bird was thinking or what its next step would be.

That separation from me in an animal meant to live in the wild is fine.  If I am ever that separated from an individual in my life about whom I care deeply, I will be worried.  The ksy is that people who are suffering from clinical depression may be sufficiently in their own world that my understanding is truly limited.  My ability to help is truly limited.  I assure my friends--if you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate.  Sometimes I am so busy I don't know whether I could live up to that.  Sometimes life is so full it would be hard to fit in the time to live up to that.  But I want the offer to stand.  And several friends have shared deeply personal issues with me.  But I hope that I am never the one who has to ask myself, "What if?"  What is I had made sure to be closer?  To get closer?  To stay closer?  To make sure that the risk of feeling so far away from others and so overwhelmed that death was better than life was minimized.  

That is my goal.  Would I ever approach the crane?  No--it is meant to be left alone.  But if a friend or family member or colleague is like the crane--separated and in their own world--my job is to go to them and ask, "Is everything all right."   

A surprisingly cold run

Today when I left the house it was around 26 degrees.  I had on a thick (for running) pair of socks, running tights and a pair of shorts, and a top designed to stay warm in this weather plus a tank.  I had a head band and one pair of gloves.  I thought I would do between 13 and 15 miles this morning between 6:15 when I left and 8:15 when I planned to return.  I was surprised at how dark it was when I left but thought little of it.  I was carrying a water bottle rather than wearing a water belt.

The run was fine.  Unlike the 13 at under eight minutes per mile with a buddy a couple weeks ago this was much more of a plodding run through the city.  Slowing down here and there for as yet unshoveled and still icy sidewalks. One place on the way down to 33rd street I stepped in a puddle and made a surprisingly large splash although did not end up getting wet myself.   

On the way down, I could see the horizon off to my right starting to brighten.  And as I ran east across 33rd street toward Lake Montebello, the sky was a deep pink.  By the time I arrived at the lake and had a better view of the horizon it was a light pink to orange.  Too bad to have missed a good view of the most brilliant part.  So it goes.

The first lap around the lake was no big deal and I really didn't feel like running anywhere else so I went for a second lap.  As I approached the end of the second lap and was coming up on (but not quite at) 7 miles, I noticed something.  My hands were still cold.  It often takes 4, 5, or even 6 miles for my hands to warm up.  But at the time, I had run nearly 7 and they were still cold.  I decided not to try a third and fourth lap and head home.  This was different enough to be concerned.

As I headed home, Greenmount and York were entirely different than when I headed down.  Yes, there were people out on those streets in the 6:15-6:45ish time period that I had been running south.  But it was mostly one person here or there.  Many surprised when I came up quietly behind them.  People on cell phones yelling at whoever was on the other end causing quite a lot of noise.  People waiting for buses.  When I came back there were more people.  People in groups.  More peopel waiting for buses.  Business owners making their storefronts ready for the day.  People going into businesses.  Fewer people surprised to see me.  No one at the car wash on York Rd as I ran either direction this morning.

As I got to the car wash/gas station and within a mile of my house, I noticed that my fingers were starting to feel better.  I thought about taking on an extra mile or two.  But as I thought harder, I could tell that my left hand was fine but my right hand was still cold.

So, I just ran home.  I had completed 11.1 miles in 1:34 or about an 8:28 pace.  Leisurely for me.  I could move my fingers when I got there.  But they did hurt to touch a little.  I think I made a good decision to come in early.  At 181.8 miles it was actually a "short" week of only 33.8 miles.  That is okay.  Good for the body as I didn't tax the legs too much.  Good for the body as well as I got some extra sleep and am most of the way better except for the dry hack at night.  And for too much of the night.

Lesson of the day--listen to my body.  When it needs a lower run--take it.  

Where does that put me on my quest?  At 181.8 miles.  Just west of Donegal PA.  If I were doing this in reality there is a cheap hotel and several campgrounds right there.  I would have passed the Kooser State Park and Roaring Run Natural Area.  Several well known sandwich shops and a business called Sugar Shak Graphics.  Fun time.  

And I could have gone just a bit out of the way to visit St Raymond of the Mountains church.  A church whose history reflects the coal mining history of this part of Pennsylvania.  And a church that now serves those at the camp grounds and ski areas around Donegal.  

40 Days to Better: Day 9

Today, I had my best track workout in a long time.  I ran 6, 800 meter intervals.  The first was around 3:05 and the last was around 2:55 and I got progressively faster.  I have to thank my track running buddy who has been out week after week recently. He leads most times but I lead on occasion such as the last 800 meter interval today.  It's all good.  He and my long-time running mentor think I should run a full marathon this fall (given how my track training is going and given that I have already done one 20 mile workout) but I have made a promise of no marathons until next fall at the earliest and I intend to stick to it.

Plus, I have figured out that for some reason my body truly enjoys the workouts although it does not always enjoy the races.  I like to run.  I like to run strong.  But I get "into my head" too much when I race.  So even if my workouts are not personal best times, just the freedom of doing what I want when I want is a great thing.  That freedom to just experience the world as it is and take it all in is that is part of the "40 Days to Better" today.

That freedom is nice.  I enjoy it quite a bit.  And I enjoy sharing the freedom to just run with others.  Not that I don't enjoy racing with others, but my races tend to turn into just that--races.  And I have never run all the way through a race with someone with whom I intended to run from the start.  So, that is why I can enjoy just going--whether with other runners or all alone.  And as my job changes to involve more time with others, I have begun to enjoy running alone again a bit more.

And as my personal life has begun to involve being present for people and having other people be present for me in ways that were not always clicking in the past year, I have begun to enjoy running alone more again.

Do I want to run alone?  Not necessarily.  Especially on the track I still value very much running with others.

But I realize that each type of running is a gift.  Running with others--the others are the gift.  Running alone--the time to just experience God's creation as it exists is the gift.

So, in the rest of life, I can take time to take things in as they are.  Experience.  Welcome.  Observe.  Just be.  And then take it along with me into the rest of my life.  As a part of myself.  As a part of what will make me who I am in the future.  Integrating each experience into the true me.