In the Bleak Midwinter

Today was a pretty bleak day.  Gray skies most of the day.  A lot of rain, including this morning when I ran 10000 meters on the track starting at 5:30 for no particular reason but just because I could.  I am now up to 2097.2 miles.   

In contrast, Sunday was one incredible day.  I began with an eight mile run.  Took my youngest to an ice rink for a game at 9:30 (which meant arriving at a rink a little over an hour from our house at 8:45).  My middle son and wife went on a confirmation (Catholic sacrament) trip to feed lunches that the kids made to homeless individuals.  When we were all home, we went to see my oldest son play in a brass ensemble.  And after that, my youngest, my wife, and I went to mass while my middle sang in a boychoir concert.  Then I picked him up.  So each of us got to do at least one thing we very much enjoyed during the day.  Even if it is not all enjoying the same thing, it is nice for each of us to get to do something that really makes us happy.

The lesson I learned on Sunday was that the song, In the Bleak Midwinter can still really move me emotionally.  My history with that song only goes back a little over a decade.  At that time, my children's elementary school (two through and one still there) had a community choir that sang about a half dozen songs at the December Festival of Lights each year.  The festival celebrates Hanukkah, Advent, and Kwanzaa--all use symbols of light.  The contrast of symbols of light and a bleak minwinter was always a powerful contrast in my mind.  

If you have never read the poem before, it is worth a read, in my opinion.  While for non-Christians, the images of wise men and shepherds may not hold as much weight as for Christians, but the last stanza can be meaningful if one focuses on the image of varying gifts and what they mean regardless.  
The reference to being "poor" is taken as a clear reference to resources in the last stanza.  The narrator compared herself to a shepherd and to a wise man.  The shepherd at least has a sheep.  The wise man has wisdom.  In the nativity story, the wise men had gifts of enormous value.  

The narrator has none of these.  In the narrator's case, her heart has to do with love and following.  

In my case, it is not exactly the same, but the analogy is definitely there.  Sometimes, no matter how much money I make and how many resources I am blessed to have access to, there are times when what I don't have is options.  And this is not for me so much as for people I am with.  Family.  Friends.  Fellow runners.  I love solving problems.  But sometimes, there are no solutions to which I have access.  In those cases, I do truly have only my heart to give.  A heart full of caring.  A heart full of compassion.  A heart full of desire to see the best in others.  A heart full of joy to share.

That is what I can share.  

Sometimes that is all I can share.

And sometimes that is enough.

A Week of Running Brings Me to "Potato" Lake

Since my last blog, I have run an additional 47 miles making 60 for the week—my second longest running week ever.  At this point, I will rest tomorrow, run 35 in the coming week, and be ready for Philly training to officially begin on July 7.  With those 47 miles, I have now gone 1047 miles total.  On my virtual pilgrimage from Baltimore to New Mexico (2000 miles of running for the year) I find myself on Missouri Route 254 near Pomme de Terre Lake.  For those who might now know, Pomme de Terre translates from French to potato in English.  So, there is a "Potato" lake in Western Missouri.    

The week of running has included an easy 4, 7 on the track including 8x800 with the pace starting at 3:26 and coming down to 3:03.  Then all purpose mileage runs of 7.7, 7.5, and 5.8.  This morning, I rand 3 by myself (starting at about 5:35) and then 12 with my running partner.  15 is the second longest distance I have run this year.  While I had my stopwatch going for the three alone to make sure I got back to the meeting place in time, I turned my stopwatch off when I met my friend.  We ran from the approximately half mile point where the parking lot is to the zero mile marker, up to the six mile marker, and back without looking all that much at my watch even to see what time it is.  We spent a lot more time talking than normal as well as meeting many old friends from a training group we were once both part of.  It was a "timeless" run but certainly not purposeless.  The conversation was a good one this morning and made the 12 miles together go by quickly. 

The term Pomme de Terre is an interesting one.  As mentioned above, it translates to potato.  The literal translation is “apple of the earth.”  Even that indicates that it is a bit more complex than meets the eye.  Apple and potato.  More than one type of food mentioned even in the name and translation.  It shows how complex a food can be.  It shows that there are aspects beyond what meets the eye. 

Running is sort of like that.  It is an activity that just involves putting one foot in front of the other—again and again.  Simple, right?  Well, no.  There are hills.  There is the weather.  There is how many miles I ran earlier this week.  Or last week.  There is pacing.  There are track workouts.  There are intervals.  There is tempo running.  There are progressions.  So many choices.  Running is a pretty complex activity. 

Runners are complex people.  What motivates them?  I wrote about this in social media earlier this week, but it made a big enough impression I think it deserves another mention here.  I saw a woman who was clearly overweight running up Charles Street on my way home from my optometrist appointment on Wednesday afternoon.  It was hot. She looked like she was struggling.  I have to be honest.  I half wondered, “Why?”  (Although I often wonder why anyone wants to run in the afternoon.)  But then I thought, “No, I should compliment her.”  I could have honked and given her a thumbs up but that is difficult when coming up from behind a runner.  It may have distracted her or me.  And each could have led to an accident.  So, I didn’t do anything.  But the fact that she was there made a STRONG impression.  It was great that she was making an effort.  It was great that she was trying to make herself better.  It was amazing.  And I thought—that is something to live up to.  Not something to wonder about.  She is doing exactly what we tell people to do.  Make themselves better.  Have a plan for wellness.  Be strong.  That was all coming out in what she did.  Yes, she was "complex" in the sense of not clearly always being one who seemed (from outward appearances) to take care of herself.  So what got her exercising?  I will never know.  It may be the most complex story in the world.  It is her story.  And I have to respec that. 

Finally, I remind myself that everyone has their complexities.  Many of us try to maintain an image.  Married life is good.  Career is going well.  Especially for those of us on social media—yes, we will post about deaths or negative elements of our lives that can’t be denied. But most posts show amazingly positive lives that probably can’t possibly exist.  Yet, when you get underneath—wash the dirt off the potato and peel it—you quickly find that there is a lot more there.  Blemishes.  Eyes in the potatoes.  Things that can’t be seen from the outside.  Things that would remain otherwise hidden.  But things that define the potato.  Over the past year, I have found that many of my friends and acquaintances have a lot more going on below the surface than I ever imagined.  Or than they typically talk about.  For all those friends who have questions of the heart, questions of the soul, or questions about their core values that they hide from the world and keep inside, I offer a thought, a prayer, a hope that they will find their issues settled so that their lives may come closer to the image of a good life that we all maintain.  And though the journey may be difficult, may they find their way and come out better on the other side even if their lives continue not quite to measure up to our ideal images.  

It is amazing sometimes how my mind wanders from one topic to another and while I start talking about potatoes, I end up talking about questions to our core values.  Connecting the dots.  Noursing the soul.  

Back to Reflections--Judging a Heart

It has been several days since I've blogged.  In that time I've done two runs and taken a number of days off.  Monday was a planned day off.  Tuesday was a track on the treadmill run a mile shorter than planned as something tightened up.  That put me up to 240 miles at the end of six weeks.  Right on schedule.  Wednesday was a planned day off.  Thursday everything was a mess because of snow and I did not even leave the house except to shovel.  So I took an unplanned (but predicted) rest day.  Then today, the snow was still bad enough to cancel school and keep the University closed.  However, by afternoon the roads were better.  I ran 12 on the treadmill (5 at 8 min/mile and 7 at 8:34/mile with a slight incline).  That felt good.  That puts me up to 252 miles.  I am on US Route 40 headed west and near the border of Pennsylvania and West Virginia.

One reason I did not write was because the death of a friend's daughter.  26 years old.  Married.  Sudden.  Complication from acute leukemia.  Massive stroke.  Prognosis not good from the time it occurred.  Gone in less than a day.  Complete and total devastation.  

I could not imagine this happening to one of my sons some day. Hopefully I won't have to.

The key here is what happened afterwards.  I know the parents from a training group with one of the local running stores.  Everyone in the group was nice.  They were among the nicest.  I knew the woman a little better as we had some overlapping professional interests as well as the common interest in running.

The number of people from the running group who expressed sympathy on social media was amazing.  Of course, the number of people in general who expressed sympathy was amazing.  The parents touched many lives.  And many people felt the need to give some emotional connection back

Then there is the daughter's page.  She did not have tight privacy settings.  There was an outpouring of emotion there as well.

It was heartbreaking.  And yet it was also uplifting.

Then, today, a friend posts a quote from the Wizard of Oz.  In the movie, the Wizard says to the Tin Man, "A heart is judged not by not by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others."  I didn't know the daughter.  I know the parents showed amazing love.  But I know from what I have seen since the young woman passed away unexpectedly that she and her family all had big hearts.  They were obviously loved greatly by many others.

Knowing the parents in this family through running means that I am joined with them in having a physically strong heart.  I can only hope that when my time comes to die that my heart will be judged to have been as strong emotionally in being loved by others.

As an aside since today is also Valentine's Day, I may have truly surprised my wife for once.  (Or at least more than I did when I proposed to her back in the spring of 1991.)  I ordered flowers to be delivered to the hotel where she ended her day today with my son and his girlfriend.  The two kids will be auditioning at Oberlin tomorrow.  Since we could not spend Valentine's evening together we had actually had dinner earlier this week.  But I thought it would be nice to get flowers in shades of her favorite color to brighten her weekend after a long drive.  She sounded truly surprised when she called.  My son and his girlfriend knew and took a picture and sent it to me when they arrived.  So, that is a good sign of just how intertwined and happy our two hearts are.   

40 Days to Better: Day 33

Since I started running marathons, running has become a very analytic activity.  What is my split at each 400 on the track?  What is my time per mile?  Am I too fast?  If I run too slowly can I make it up later?  Should I go a lot faster on the downhill or hold back?  How can I manage to keep anything close to my usual pace uphill?  So many questions.  Seeking so many answers.  And spending so much mental energy trying to find them that I often waste not only mental energy and concentration on the goal of finishing in the quickest time possible (while I worry about the most consistent time possible instead) but also physical energy.  And when I waste concentration and physical energy, I end up running times slower than I hope for.  I have commented numerous times in different settings about running with my head rather than just with my heart.  Running with a plan is not a bad idea.  But spending too much time and effort obsessing about the plan never got me a better time.  

So, today's lesson was about running with my heart rather than with my head.  This morning, I woke up after 4:30 and had to do dishes.  I anticipated being able to get out to run regardless--and hopefully got for five miles.  In the end, I ended up doing just a 2.6 mile run.  Nothing wrong with that.  A ran a ninth day in a row.  It is there, that I begin the thinking about running with my heart rather than my head.

And, so, we have another poem...

If I Had Run With My Head
If I had run with my head
Rather than with my heart
Things would have been different this morning.
My head would have looked at the analytic side.
My head would have said, "You've run eight straight days
Before today.
What would Coach Marie say?"
And I would have thought to myself about how Coach Marie
Taught me
And others in the Charm City Run training group
About the need
For rest.
My head would have looked at the analytic side.
My head would have said, "It is only nine days till race morning.
What kind of taper are you doing?
You are avoiding tempo, but that
Is nothing new.
But why are you running so much?
You won't increase speed.
You won't increase endurance.
Just ease up."
These things I have heard many times.
My head would have looked at the analytic side.
My head would have stopped part way through the systems check
Before the run.
Legs--okay.
Heart--ready to pump it up.
GI--not feeling so good. 
In knots for reasons I can't figure out.
My head would have said, "Why run?
When the body feels this way?
On top of all the other things."
My head would have looked at the analytic side.
My head would have said, "Isn't three strikes enough
To be out?"
But I am learning not to run with my head.
I feel much better.
I am learning to run 
With my heart and legs.
Two's company--and three's a crowd.
So the head gets left out.
And when I listen to my legs and heart.
The legs are always ready.
The heart whispers just two words,
"Build 
Confidence."
That is why I run.
Build confidence--to complete things.
Build confidence--to work through things.
Build confidence--to keep going.
Build confidence--in those around me.
Build confidence--in myself.
Trust myself.
Trust my heart.
And no more words need to be said.
It was clearly time to run.

What I need is to take the attitude expressed at the end.  The attitude of working toward a goal.  The attitude of having confidence in myself and others. The attitude of trusting my heart.  And take that into the rest of my life.  On the road to better. 

Homily from the Heart and Mind

When I read about the new Pope's first homily it made a big impression on me.  I don't even recall the topic, and years from now I am sure I will not.  What I recall is the fact that it was described as a homily without notes.  This is in contrast with the last Pope who had a three page homily written in Latin.  While sometimes, speeches "off the cuff" or "direct from heart and mind" are not the best way to go (as my middle son on Friday night found out when he was working from notes at a 4-H speech competition and was told his prepared speech sounded a bit too informal), the fact that the new Pope would have the confidence and comfort to do that is something I respect quite a bit!  As for my son's presentation, I was actually quite impressed with how well he did with just notes since I love to lecture that way, but not all judges think the same way.  

Coincidence of TIming

So, yesterday, I wrote about Father Sam's comments from ten days earlier, one noting that prophets were always sent when people needed reminding.  Interesting that one day later, it turns out that the Catholic mass reading (Jeremiah 7:23-28), turns out to be a reminder to the people of the simple rule they were given--"Listen to my [i.e., God's] voice, then I will be your God and you shall be my people."  Not that listening and following was always supposed to be easy but a very simple expression of faith.  Then the rest of the reading goes on to comment on how people always turned away, turned their back to God rather than facing God, and became stiff necked (I have wondered often where that expression came from).  As I think about my own spiritual journey, I think about how to continue to turn my face to God and to avoid losing sight and becoming just as stiff necked as the people of ancient Israel.  I think that half the battle may be just to keep things like this on my mind and in my heart.  But that is only half the battle, of course.  The rest is to live them out.