Vulnerability

Yesterday, I talked about images.  Today, I began my day with a 6 mile run.  A very easy 6 mile run.  A run that on my virtual pilgrimage would put me on Indiana Route 45 headed out of Bloomington.  The run started a lot later than usual (almost 6:30 on a weekday) as one child was away, the other two did not have to go to school, and I had gotten to sleep at around 2 last night after getting home very late.  I was operating on a little more sleep than just what I got at home as I'd slept quite a bit on the plane, but it was a fitful sleep.  Total for the year 625.4 miles.  

So, today, I worked about 5 hours at the office.  I'll still be playing catch up (and email elimination) over the weekend.  I went to two different services at church today.  My 14 year old was an altar server at the 3 PM service--Eucharist was shared but it was not a mass as it had already been blessed.  The passion was read.  One detail I don't recall ever catching before from the Gospel of St. John was that Nicodemus (whom Joseph of Arimathea teamed up with to bury Jesus) brought 100 pounds of myrrh and aloes.  I had never thought about the sheer quantity before.  Maybe not usually going to the service in the afternoon of Good Friday, I don't hear the whole passion according to John very often.

Then this evening, I went to a service at St. Pius X called Tenebrae.  It is an interesting service.  Not a priest to be found.  Run by the laity.  At our church there are seven candles in front  of a cross.  An introduction is read.  Then there are seven stories.  For the first six, we hear a biblical quote that leads into the story and we hear the story.  Then music is played.  Then a candle is extinguished.  For the seventh, the story is read.  The candle is taken slowly to the back of the church.  A loud drum is played to recall the passing of Jesus.  Then music is played and the evening ends.  

I had a chance to speak with three former parishioners whom I have known for more than a decade.  Two of the three were my oldest son's first Sunday school teachers.  The third is the daugher of one.  They have been part of our church family for 14 years--at least.  We stay in touch through social media.  We rarely get to catch up in person.  

I also had a chance to talk to the director of religious education at our parish this evening.  She has had quite a week getting ready for Easter.  Stuff comes up every year.  This year is no different.  She noted how happy she will be after the last mass on Easter Sunday.

Two of the stories caught my attention: one about personal demons and the other about the importance of the little things we do for others.  Both fit with the one other image that I didn't comment on yesterday--vulnerability.

While St. Sebastian survived the archers, he still was eventually martyred and was shot by the archers in the first place.  And in most artwork (including my tattoo) he is shown with arrows in him.  In my tattoo he is being rescued.  Irene is the strong one.  He is vulnerable.  That is an important self-image for me.

I tell happy stories on Facebook every day. But this is only the protect myself from unhappy things.  Some may say to hide from unhappy things.  

I try to maintain a positive outlook on life.  But maybe it is just because I am vulnerable to becoming downcast if I even begin to allow it to creep in.  Certainly my teenage writing reflected the more vulnerable raw emotional side of me.

Even in the various images that I saw of myself and others saw of me this week there is vulnerability in each of them.  The vulnerability of a friend facing an injury keeping her from running.  The vulnerability I have displayed on numerous occasions and the friend checking up on me when I didn't send an email about a Tuesday morning track run.  The vulnerability of sharing oneself in a mentoring relationship.  And the vulnerability of sharing with others my quest for meaning in my running.  

Then there is the vulnerability to dwelling on and never losing sight of what happened at the Boston marathon last year.  In some ways, I probably should never forget.  The vulnerability is misplacing the importance of it in my life.  That came out this week as well.  The fears and stresses of that experience are like on of my personal demons.

There are other demons--overcommitment in the workplace.  Overcommitment at home.  Things that never seem to get done.  And how each of these is not only a problem in and of itself but also plagues me as I try to move ahead.

Finally, the story of little things.  (I've gone on quite some time).  For having run as many miles as I have since the start of 2006 (probably over 5,000 in those eight years as I have run over 3,400 just since June of 2012), the number of "big moments" is quite small.  When I qualified for Boston and when I ran Boston.  When I hit sub-7 on average in a non-race half-marathon and in a separate non-race 10 miler.  And when I won a small 5K and when I ran 19:10 (putting me close to 19-even).  Thus, I can count th enumber of really big moments on my two hands.  But there are lots of small moments shared with many other runners.  Some who are faster than I am.  Some who are slower than I am.  Some with whom I am very well matched.  Sometimes it is just about being out there together.  Sometimes it is just the friendly hello.  Sometimes it is the cheering.  Sometimes it is the advice.  Sometimes it has little to do with running.  Those are the moments that count.  Those are the moments that can happen every day and make a big difference for people.

And sometimes I forget that at home the little things in the every day can be just as important.  Yes, the big things are great.  The wedding day.  The days children are born.  The house buying.  College acceptances.  Soon--graduation.  

But it is also the little things.  The going to the grocery store.  The making breakfast.  The cleaning up after myself.  The doing things for Sherry just because.

The last vulnerability I will mention tonight--the personal demon that focuses only on the big and forgets that the little things are important.  And deserve attention.  And are critical to a happy life.

Lessons from running.  Lessons from church.  Lessons for life.  

Perceptions

So, today I put in 7 more treadmill miles running a progression workout that is starting to feel like second nature.  Since I have done the same workout each of the last three weeks (the only way I could make it even more similar to make a scientific comparison from one week to the next would be to try to use the same treadmill), I can notice what is different.  Last night I had a huge dinner with colleagues I'm visiting at Arizona State.  I got more sleep because what was 8 PM for them was 11 PM for me and then I slept till the time I normally awaken.  Different mixture of types of liquids I drank yesterday, including a very nice pint of local IPA nut brown ale.  The workout felt good.  And I had my breathing in the cooldown mile back to no harder than it had been in my warmup after about 3/4 of a mile at 8:00/mile pace.  (And, yes, I know that I count myself blessed for considering that pace a cool down pace.)  

In any case, the 7 miles this morning put me at 500 miles on my first pair of Brooks Launch shoes.  They have treated me well.  501 miles in 88 days.

And it puts me at 619 miles for the year.  That puts me on E Atwater street in Bloomington Indiana.  Having been born near Ohio State, attended Penn State and Michigan, teaching at Hopkins (relevant for Big 10 lacrosse) and living relatively near the University of Maryland (a coming attraction for Big 10 sports), it is cool to be there.  I had been to another part of IU before professionally, but that took me to their health sciences campus in Indianapolis.  This trip was never intended to be a tour of the Big 10, but it is fun to reflect.

And this continues to be a week to reflect.  Even with all I wrote on Tuesday, I have continued to think about the Boston marathon last year and this year and the image I have of myself.  A lot of that image is built around me as "runner".  Of course, I also have me as husband, me as father, me as son and brother and all the other familial "me as".  Then there is me as faculty, me as Vice Dean, me as Sunday school teacher.  Me as baker.  Me as community member.

So many different images.

These images are perceptions.  What really stands out in my mind from the Boston marathon ending last year is the images that my two buddies and I (along with many others) experienced.  The images of emergency vehicles rushing like mad past the T (subway) stop that we were forced off at and toward the finish line.  Images that we saw on the television in the lobby of the hotel.  Images that we saw on the television as we showered and prepared to head back to Baltimore.  Images of physical hurt.  The images that brought such emotionally charged hurt--and uncertainty--and bitterness--and fear--and loyalty.

Loyalty, you ask?

Loyalty to a cause.  Loyalty to the human spirit.  Loyalty to the identity of runners--never stop.  Of Americans--always striving.  Of what we build our entire sense of being around.

And then I think of the images others have of me.  Perfect at anything?  Hardly.  Not a perfect husband.  Not a perfect Dad.  Just doing my best.

This week started when a friend posted a picture of the music leader at our church who passed away earlier this year and conveyed her image of him--while he was alive and what she hoped he was seeing and doing now.  I wondered how I might be thought of.

This week has brought that out in ways I never expected.  I am thankful for the situations that helped make that clear.  And I am thankful for friends and family who express themselves.

My wife and I who do not always see eye to eye but have been brought closer together by all that we have had to do to facilitate our oldest son's decision on college which now must be made within two weeks.

My oldest son who does occasionally tell us how much he appreciates what we do but who more often than not simply shows it by his actions.  

My younger two who do express their appreciation for any number of things.

My one training partner who shared with me her disappointment that she seems to have yet another injury.  Runners are there for each other.

Another training partner who expressed her concern for me because of one surprising change in behavior regarding Tuesday workouts.  Runners notice little things.

Another training partner who called me mentor.  I have had individuals whom I have formally mentored.  This was an organic evolution of two runners that has become one of mentoring.  

A coach called me the picture of dedication.  

Two friends and community leaders who called me inspiring.  Each in his own way.

And it is the last that may have surprised me most.  I have known Russell since I ran the Heather Hurd 5K in November of 2011.  At this point other than the fact that it was a 5K in memory of someone who was lost much to0 early as a result of someone else's distracted driving, I don't for the life of me recall how I found out about that particular race.  It has now become an annual event for me and I hope to run again this year.  Over time, I've gotten to know Russell and his wife.  I've seen how much they have made an end to distracted driving their passion.  They inspire me.  Yet, he called me inspiring as well.   He has turned his grief into a positive--although the grief never goes away.  Now, he has seen my search for meaning in numbers.  This year my virtual pilgrimage.  And as he continues to work on his own fitness, he has also decided to turn it into a virtual walk/jog/run across the country and think of ending distracted driving in all the places he passes by.

I don't expect to start a movement of virtual pilgrimages.  I do think that it wonderful to know that others find what I am doing interesting and a useful way to explore their own need for meaning.

My meaning comes from accomplishment--and putting it in the context of things that are quantifiable and numeric and what I consider the meaning of life.

I only hope that over time I can continue to be what others think of me already and better.  And that my accomplishments are just as high for family as for work and running.  

Twelve More Miles, One Year, Lots of Realizations

Since the last time I wrote, I ran 5 miles easy outside near home and 7 miles on a treadmill at a hotel in Cleveland, OH, starting at 3:35 this morning.  Thus the 12 more miles.  I enjoyed every minute of both runs.  This puts me at 612 miles after 15 weeks of the year.  On my virtual pilgrimage I remain on Indiana Route 46 and am now on the outskirts of Bloomington.

The reference to one year--one year since the Boston Marathon bombing.  When I started the day on the treadmill, I have a very early network news program on.  And they spent a lot of time covering the remembrance of the events in Boston.  I felt emotions come quickly.  They came even more rapidly once they mentioned the eight year old who died last year.  Then, I was asked to be on a local public radio program this afternoon.

On that program, the host asked me what I will be doing next Monday.  I hadn't even looked ahead to my calendar for next Monday yet.  It turns out I will have a lot of meetings.  That is actually a very good thing.  Because otherwise, I would probably be at my desk all day watching the internet on pins and needles.  Waiting for the many runners I know--some through Back on My Feet, some through Charm City Run, and some through other local connections I have made over the years--to see their times and to see that they are safe.  And to wait and see that nothing happens.  I realize now that we will never be able to take safety at an event like this completely for granted again.  Especially after someone left a backpack there today after the end of the remembrance activities.  Being in meetings most of the day will force me to focus on something else.  Not that I want to ignore the issue.  I want to face the issue.  The best way to deal with it is to face it.  And to face it squarely.  The fact that it happened.  And the fact that I must do something about it.   

So, what else did I learn about myself and life today?

First, I still like the idea of playing music but right now I get no joy from playing.  I committed to play for a Good Friday service and for an Easter Sunday mass.  I had hung up the towel last year.  I have re-engaged three times since.  I think this is it.  I am not saying I am any better than any of the other musicians.  I certainly am not.  I'm just not feeling it any more.  And that will help no one.  Life is too short to do volunteer activities that I don't enjoy.

Second, the events of last year are still closer than I thought they were.

Third, the group of running friends I have really does look out for and care about each other.  One friend I have run many miles with sent a message today indicating that she has to take some time off.  She has had a series of injuries and felt something different enough that she feels she has to pull back. It is unfortunate as she has waited since 2011 to run another marathon and is in for the Marine Corps this year.  I hope that she overcomes whatever has started to affect her.

Earlier in the day, I heard from a friend with whom I often run track workouts on Tuesdays.  She called me asking if I was okay.  I hadn't even realized that she might be thinking that I was not okay because of the anniversary of the bombings.  It is simply that we have been doing track workouts as a group (varying from 2-12) since the fall of 2011 when she and a student of mine from Ireland ran a 3200 meter time trial together with the two of them expertly pacing me.  In any case, this was one of the first weeks when I didn't send out any email--even one saying "I won't be out" in almost three years.  She noticed and wanted to make sure nothing was up.

Then, for one friend who is running Boston this year, I had sent a brief hand-written note.  When I dropped it in the mail (people still like getting real mail every once in a while), I didn't realize what day it would arrive on. I also hadn't thought about my friend's relationship with the events in Boston last year.  Her mother was there.  As was I.  And numerous other friends.  She felt relieved as she heard from each one a year ago.  But she posted late in the day today how raw some of those feelings were.  And how much she appreciated getting my note encouraging her to make the most of the opportunity to run Boston.  To run strong.  And to find in the experience the meaning she needs it to have for her.  

In closing, Anthony on his program today asked me why so much running.  I gave my answer that has nothing to do with community first--immediate feedback and lots of numbers.  But the community I am a part of is an amazing one.  One that is strong.  One that faces the issues we must overcome head on.  And one that I will continue to be a part of.

While I acknowledge that I want to run more races--and not just train endlessly--the many feelings of insecurity do haunt me.  And it is not even so much my own feelings of insecurity.  I can get over those.  Every major race I run for the rest of my life, I will have to ask the question--how will I get news to my family that I am done?  If anything happens, how will I let them know I am safe?  And is the risk worth it.  

I think I will answer yes.  But that is a question I never had to ask before.  It is a shame to have to ask it now.  But family as community is even stronger.  And the risk cannot be ignored.

I am sure I will run and write next Monday.  And I am sure on the day of this year's Boston Marathon I will have even more to say about the feelings that are still there.  This is one time when being 612 miles away in reality rather than just virtually might help to ease the hurt that is still there--the easing through distance as well as time.  Or perhaps not as this may transcend any distance as long as the pictures, the story about the eight year old, and my memories live on.  

Can 16 Miles Be Effortless?

If someone had asked me that question when I was preparing for my first marathon and blogging back in 2010, I would have answered with a question, "What are you talking about?"

Today, however, I found that this can be done.

I went to the NCR trail and started around 5:39.  Ran 4 miles alone on a dark trail but I could see enough to run safely.

Then, I met up with the person I was running with this week, and we ran another 12.  So, I saw the second of the trail from the parking lot on Paper Mill Rd to two miles north of there four times this morning (twice going north and twice coming south).  The other 8 miles were between mile 2.5 and mile 6.5 on the trail once.

It was great.  My overall average pace was 8:33.  I've run other paces like 8:00 or faster for that distance on that course before.  There is a very big difference.

While I sweated this morning and it was already in the 50's and the last mile or so was noticeably more humid than the rest of the course, I felt under control and it was easy to have a conversation the whole time.  While I can have a conversation at 8:00 or faster per mile, it is much easier to have a conversation at 8:33.  What is interesting is that I have heard "conversational pace" since 2010.  But, I am now taking it much more seriously.  And it makes a difference.  My heart rate was back down below 80 about 20 minutes later.  

What a difference!

It puts a totally new light on my training.  Training is not always about going as fast as possible--or even as fast as feels comfortable.  Sometimes proper training is about having patience.  About doing the right workout to achieve a long-term goal.  About self-control  And recognizing that there are truly reasons for each step of training at different levels of intensity.  And those levels of intensity are not just "recommendations".  Rather those are "follow these" to improve.

By the way, today's run puts me up to 600.4 miles total for the year.  It places me still on Indiana Route 46 approaching a town called Nashville, IN.  Next recognizable town--Bloomington!

The Three Mile Gift

Since the last time I wrote, I have run 23 miles.  That included 7 on the track on Tuesday (9x400 trying to keep it just below 1:30).  3 on the road on Wednesday.  7 progression on Thursday (8/7:45/7:15/7:00/6:45/6:15/8 again) on the treadmill and that felt a lot easy than the week before.  And finally, a very easy 6 yesterday morning that during which I crossed paths with a colleague who referred to me as "Dr. Frick" out on the road at 6 AM.  Sometimes I wish I could just be "Kevin" at least when I run.

In any case, today is another beautiful morning.  I am not running today as I have work responsibilities and then parenting this afternoon.  It is good.

So, by now I have made my way through Greensburg and Hartsville and over to Columbus, Indiana on Indiana Route 46 or West 3rd Avenue.  South of Indianapolis.  The closest I will get to that city.

I want to write just a brief comment this morning about the gift of three miles on Wednesday.  My shortest run of the week.  My shortest run for a while.  

Why was it a gift?

Because it is part of a training plan.  

Because I felt "compelled" to do it.

Because otherwise, I could just as easily have sat the day out.

But I got up, went out, did three very easy miles, and felt great.  

The legs had to do some work, but it was almost effortless.

The lungs had to do some work but I was not struggling.

It gave me the freedom to move without requiring me to move too much.

It was just the right way to balance the middle day of the week.

And I will look forward to "rest running" days in the future. 

Two Days' Runs

OK.  Yesterday I ran 14.1 at an 8:41 pace.  Wow, did that feel easy.  If anything, since I ran it with my training partner of three years with whom I have run many times that distance at 8:00 or 7:45, it felt crazy slow.  But it also was better for my body.  There is the goal of going fast just to get in the miles.  Then, there is the goal of going far now so I can go further and faster later.  This is called patience.  Some would say that just running 14 miles is a sign of patience.  I'd say that I have to remind myself that 14 miles is only the beginning of patience.  Fourteen miles at a pace that is right for what I am trying to do now is a sign of true patience.  I keep hearing that from a coach I met at Boston last year.  And my running partner and I have said that to each other so many times, but finally found a way to live up to what we claim.

What made it more interesting was an African proverb a friend had posted on social media: If you want to go fast, go alone.  If you want to go far, go together.  That just fits so well.  And a friend of mine pointed out that it described her run that morning, too.

And, of course, we sang a song at church that quotes from Isaiah 40 about running and not growing weary.  God will be my strength.  I think that on this particular day it was just as important that God was my patience.  Maybe strength of character or strength of will rather than physical strength.

I followed yesterday with 6 today at 8:32.  Nice and easy.  That was after I had worn my Boston Marathon jacket from last year to a lacrosse game yesterday.  A friend of a friend (the friend is a fellow parent on my son's lacrosse team), saw it and thought she had to stalk me to ask questions.  As it turned out, our mutual friend provided the introduction.  This year will be her first time at Boston.  I gave her some advice.  It was fun.  I sometimes forget how fast my running is, as I am always comparing myself with people who are yet faster.  Another piece of wisdom I have seen in several posts lately--don't compare but just enjoy being who I am.  Take it all in

The miles put me at 561.  That is already over the 14 week total I had planned and I still have a seven mile track workout tomorrow.  That puts me on South County Road 220 W in Greensburg, IN.  I had been tracking along I-74 on small side roads for a while.  This puts me between I-74 and US-50, although the route doesn't go south to US-50 for the foreseeable future.

Final fun thought for tonight.  A friend sent me this picture:

with the comment that it was too bad I could not use it for my blog.  That, of course, is like a challenge.  What do I think of when I see this picture?

I think of asking the cat, "Why are you there?"  Then the cat would give the answer in the caption.  How does that relate to me?  Well, why do I run?  Because I have legs that can carry me and a heart that can power me.  Why am I on a virtual pilgrimage?  Because I have the internet to guide me and I use the progress as a way of marking my own progress?  Why did I ask a coach for advice?  Because I want my running to be all that it can be.  Things are there.  Things are available.  They seem to be there for a purpose.  So why not make use of them.  Why to run.  Why to think it is as a pilgrimage.  Why do I worry about all this symbolic stuff and not just be practical?  Because that is just how my mind thinks and puts things together.  Just like the cat saw something warm and thought it would be useful.  

Another Six and St Anthony

Yesterday's run was another general maintenance 6.  Ran the same course on Friday as I did on Monday.  But there were a couple of key differences:

(1) It was after fewer miles so my legs felt fresher despite the intense progression workout the day before.

(2) I didn't have to use nearly as much mental energy to get my splits all very close to 8:30 rather than 8:00.  So, the run was even easier.

The 6 miles puts me at 541.3--somewhere around the intersection of Indiana Route 46 and Coon Hunters Rd in Batesville, Indiana.  I would have run very close to the St Anthony of Padua church in Morris, Indiana on the way.  That is before Batesville.  This is St Anthony to whom people pray to help find things.  

I would hope that if the pilgrimage were a real one rather than a virtual one no one would think that I need to be found.  Rather, I would hope that people would appreciate how I was trying to find something.  Trying to find meaning in my running.

The number 541.3 gives me something to think about in terms of finding something.  Finding a link to spirituality.  I like Luke 5:4-13.  It is the story of Jesus telling Peter to toss his nets into the water and Peter catching more fish than he could imagine.  Peter, as well as the apostles James and John, joined Jesus then.  That takes us up to verse 11.  The other two verses are about Jesus curing a leper.  All these stories are about men who found hope in Jesus.  Who were blessed by Jesus.  And who put their faith in Jesus to various degrees.

This faith made them single minded.

I only hope that the blessings that I have received through my faith will help to make me single minded in my willingness and ability to follow Jesus.