Father's Day Run

Today was a very nice Father's Day.  Not too hot.  Not too humid.  I ran the GBMC Father's Day 5K for the fifth year in a row.  The first three years had similar but not identical courses out in Hunt Valley.  The past two years have been from the GBMC campus.  This year's was even more challenging than last year's.  Last year's was short.  And last year's had us run up Stevenson from Osler to Charles. This year I had to run up to where the far Dumbarton fields are and then through the Roger's Forge neighborhood and back up from Dumbarton and Stevenson to the top of the hill again.  It was my first 20+ 5K in a while.

But that was okay.  After having a week missing three days of running with a combination of cramps and diarrhea and running twelve miles yesterday more or less just "because" so that I could get some miles under my belt, I felt that I didn't do horribly.  I got 3rd in my age group.  My 9 year old did nicely (31:11) for the course and my 14 year old finished.  Some days that is really all that matters.  Especially when he had a bit of a cramp and the course was so challenging.

The other thing that I achieved was a Father-Daughter team win.  Readers may wonder how I did that.  I have three sons.  I don't have any "love children".  But there is a young woman who has run this race several times with her mom.  They have never offered her the opportunity to run as a team with her mom.  So, I "adopted" her for a day.  I checked with the organizers up front.  I have mentored her in life a bit.  I have mentored her in running a bit.  And I am old enough to be her father.  So, we were a "Father-Daughter" team.  It made both our days.  My day as my sons will be a few years older before teaming up with them will help me.  Her day as she has never been able to compete as part of a team for this event before.  It shows the spirit of runners and the positive influence of running.

And, if I were to have had a daughter, there are certainly two young women I've come to know whom I would be happy to claim some positively fatherly influence on.  My son's girlfriend of three years--works incredibly hard, is wonderfully smart, amazingly is  talented at flute, and has been a great influence on my son.  Then, there is my adopted running daughter for the day.  Goal oriented.  Hard working.  Responsible.  Community oriented.  Amazingly outgoing.  Great baker.  Thinking of others.  Great runner.

How better to celebrate Father's Day than to think not only of how my father has influenced me (goal oriented, smart, get the job done, responsible, church oriented, and on and on) and to think that I have been able to see that in and share at least some of my gifts with not only my three sons but also with at least a couple of others.

To finish, the 3.1 miles puts me at 944.7 still on MO-42 headed west.  

Wax On--Wax Off

Everyone of a certain age will recognize the immortal words of Mr. Miyagi in the title of this blog entry.  Why do I begin with that title today?  Well, today was a day that "ended" (although it is only 8 PM so the evening is still young) with my doing an extra good cleaning of the counter top in the kitchen.  Not really waxing, of course.  But getting the chili liquid, which  had simmered over the edge of the slow cooker for hours while the chili was made today, off the counter top.  With the heat and the time to dry it was quite stuck on.  So, I went around one way.  Then back the other way.  I loosened the material and eventually it came off.

But that got me to thinking about how some activities don't take much mental effort.  They just take "doing".  That is what I feel like when I run on the treadmill.  Although even there with a little concentration a person can figure out things about their running style and take some corrective action.

While I ran on the treadmill a lot last year, I also still went with my "running family" more often for workouts.  This year, I have run many, many miles alone.  And many, many miles on the treadmill.  That is not a healthy combination.  Even as someone who doesn't mind the treadmill as much as other runners, it just does not make me happy.
  
But it does leave a lot of time for the mind to wander.  And to think.  And to contemplate.

So, what did I contemplate today?

Passing things on to my kids.  I'm sure I'll also ponder in the near future how I pass things along to the kids I teach in Sunday school, thinking about some comments from a teacher/runner friend.  

Anyway, my thre boys have learned that if they want to spend "quality time" with me (to use a cliché I don't care much for) with me it is probably going to be in the kitchen.  (At least until any one of them takes up running.)

So, before I went to the Y today, I assembled the makings of chili in the slow cooker.  When I got home and before work I asked my nine year old to bring me an onion, which I cut and added to the chili.  Then, I told my nine year old that he could make cornbread to go with the chili for dinner if he desired--he was going to be home and then gone to hockey practice in the evening before I and his two older brothers arrived home.  

So, since I have passed on cooking to him and his reading skills have improved immensely lately, he came home, found the recipe for corn bread with butter milk on the iPad, and made it.  It was awesome.  

What a gift!

Something that he can "just do".

And something in which he joins me in "wax on-wax off."  Except his repetitive motion was not rubbing but mixing the batter.  I wonder what he was thinking about.   

And for the record, I ran 6.2 miles while at the Y, so I am 197.5 miles along the way still on PA 31 heading west.  Not much more to say than that.  

The Spirituality of Advent, Day 3, Week 4

The final day of Advent.  The third day that I comment on the theme of Love.  Christmas Eve and I am up early to run a track workout.

Today, I think I will talk about my children.  

They were part of the focus in the week of hope.  Hope for their future.  Hope for a positive future regardless of whether I am here or something happens to me as something happened to the gentleman whose memorial mass I played at in early December.  

I thought of them in the week of preparation. So much I prepare for.  So much they prepare for.  So much to help them prepare for.

I thought of them in the week of joy.  The do so much to bring me joy (and sometimes to bring me grief).  They are examples for others--usually in a good way.  They show how much Sherry and I have done to influence their lives.

And I think of them in the week of love.  Love for three sons that Sherry and I brought into the world together.  Love for seeing the awesome things they do most of the time.  Love for teaching them responsibility and accountability.  Love for having them around.  Love for doing things with them.

A great example was, is, and will be the preparation for Christmas Eve.  Yesterday evening, I took my son Joshua with me to the stores at Mt Washington at Whole Foods. We first went to the wine store there.  After looking for just a moment myself, I spoke to one of the two gentlemen working there.  I told me I needed a white to cook with Chilean Sea Bass and then to drink afterwards.  I also told him that Sherry prefers sweet.  He gave me a gewurztraminer that I very much look forward to trying tonight.  It will be great to have it with the fish (bought at Whole Foods), some lemon juice, and dill.  Joshua learns about cooking with wine--that is sharing--that is love.

Then we stopped at Starbucks and used up a gift card I had gotten from a Sunday School student.  He got a salted caramel latte.  Sharing the experience of Starbucks.  That is love.

Then we shopped at Whole Foods.  Joshua had taken care of calling them in advance to make certain they had the sea bass still in stock for the day.  They did.  We had a very nice shopping trip together.  Sharing.  Talking.  Teaching.  Learning.  Love.

Finally, we met another mother and daughter from the school Joshua goes to on the way out of the store.  We didn't get too close as they were both admittedly not feeling well.  But we had a great conversation about many of the things that this mother and daughter and our family do for Christmas.  Sharing.  Love.  

Then, we came home.  Joshua helped some with dishes by his choice after I scolded his younger brother for having failed to complete tasks while we were out.  That is love.

Then, I kept Sherry company while she made the dough for the poppy seed and nuts rolls we will have with dinner tonight.  That is love.

While keeping her company, I read my 17 year old's college essays (three more).  That is love.

Then, I warmed some German spiced wine for Sherry and I.  That is love.

This morning I woke up and am planning to run a track workout.  Love of the sport.  Caring for my friends.

The rest of the day afterwards will be a day of cleaning and preparation of our dinner that will include split pea soup with sauerkraut (how many words have the letter sequence "rkr"),  semolina bread, cranberrry sauce, and sea bass, then both cheese and prune pierogies, and finally the rolls.  All with our entire family and Kelsey--who has become like a member of our family after 2 1/2 years with Christopher.  That is love.

That will be after Christopher, Kelsey, and I play keyboard, flute, and bass at our church's Christmas Eve mass.

Love is so many ways.  I remember learning of four types of love in a lesson in school.  Between my wife, my kids, and the friends we support that is three.  And the fourth is agape or spiritual love whih is what my reflections during Advent have been about.  All crammed into 24 hours.  The last 24 hour before the celebration of how God's love for humanity was born on earth. 

The Spirituality of Advent, Day 4, Week 3

Today, I did not run.  Today, I am going to ponder something that didn't bring me joy or suggest any degree of spirituality.  

Yesterday, I got back from a trip to London that lasted less than a total of forty-eight hours.  I felt joy at being home.  I felt joy at the sense of comfort.  I felt joy at the sense of familiarity.  I felt joy because I was home with family.  I felt joy at being able to cuddle with Sherry.  Easy discussion.  Catching up after two days.  Understanding what I missed while away.  Breathing together.  Being together.  Resting together.  Just being at peace.  And a spirituality as I realized how important it was to come home to something other than just my own existence in a house.  

But that was just one part of what I felt.  That was the part that brought me joy.

Which isn't to say that I felt no joy in being home and talking with my kids.  Finding out about the concert in which Christopher played that I'd missed.  Finding out about hockey practice.  Finding out about Joshua's high school thoughts.

But I found that very few (if any) of the hand washable only dishes had been washed.  I had given one simple instruction before I left--make sure that I did not have to do three days worth of dishes when I returned.  My children didn't do that.  And that frustrated me.  The joy was not there.  

What is interesting is thinking about how long it takes growing children to realize what I refer to as spirituality, i.e., that we are a part of something bigger.  No matter what example I set.  No matter what we hear at church every Sunday.  No matter what they are taught in school.  It interests me to ponder just how long it takes children to take in the idea that they are a part of something bigger--and act on it.  In this case, it is being part of a family.  It is being part of a group that if not everyone acts together we end up with a less than ideal outcome.

So, how do you get a child to appreciate that he or she is a part of something bigger?  Hopefully, the child will eventually get there.  I know that after reading my oldest son's college application essays, he understands that he is a part of something bigger.  Orchestras.  Family.  Community.  That the world is a place that he is a part of.  That the world does not center around him.  

Interestingly--it is sometimes incredibly difficult to get him to do things within the family.  However, the other day when I thought I had completely lost my university ID, he went to look for it in the grocery store parking lot while I took a shower to get ready for work.  That just shows that the growth in spirituality is not even across all aspects of life at the same time.

Then there is my 14 year old.  Yes, he realizes that he is a part of a social dynamic and that he is part of a a boychoir.  And he will contribute by making dinner.  He just doesn't like to clean up afterwards.

Even my 8 year old sort of begins to realize that he is a part of something bigger like the teams he plays on.  But that only goes so far.

So, I guess I can see the evolution of understanding that a person is part of something bigger by watching my three sons.

And some day, I hope they will ponder how they are part of many things bigger just like I do.

And some day, I hope they will come to some fascinating conclusions and take joy in those conclusions.

But right now, I just hope that the next time I travel for work, my three children remember that they are part of a basic family unit and act on it.  That would be a good start toward a stronger sense of spirituality in the world.   

As  a final thought, it is interesting to think that being part of something bigger is not just enjoying the fun parts of being something bigger, but also being willing to do the things we don't enjoy along the way.  It reminds me of a comment from the owner of Charm City Run and a blog entry posted by Emily Sloman the tattoo artist I went to.  The blog entry is about becoming an apprentice tattoo artist, but it reflects not being selfish and wanting things to come too quickly.