Why quote the Hokey Pokey song when thinking about physical and spiritual well-being? And why stop with just putting my “whole self in” and “not taking my whole self out”?
Well, let me share a non-running story—for once, in recent times. This story is about the worship band at our church. This fall, I was given a chance to reconsider a decision I’d made at the start of 2010—after several years of playing bass and singing with the worship band at our church, I decided to pull back for a while because I was struggling spiritually and I had too much going on. The person who took my place as the regular bass play for 20 months is a better bass player than I am, but recently he was finding that other commitments were becoming a big deal for him. So, I am now the regular player again and enjoying the opportunity.
On most Sundays there are enough singers that I can just play bass and concentrate more on my bass playing—which leads to improved bass playing. However, this week, the worship band was a mixed group of some core members, one alumna, and a couple substitutes. It went well. As a result of the lack of singers, I was able to have a microphone and just play on a few songs while choosing to sing and play on a few others. It was a nice mix and I was able to concentrate my efforts where they were needed most.
The key for me was that the feeling was different. In addition to just playing for the joy of playing—not because I had been the bass player almost from the start and wondered who else would play (which was why I felt like I was playing at the end of 2009) and not just because I was asked to sub (between the start of 2010 and the start of September this year)—the opportunity to put my “whole self” into the music was amazing. It felt so empowering. It helped me feel the joy. Sometimes just playing bass doesn’t feel quite like putting my whole self into the music. And, of course, I would not ever want to take my whole self back out.
So, I’ve written about doing things that bring me joy. I wrote, sometime in the past twelve months, about feeling God’s joy when I run. Now, I am reminded about the joy that I feel and that I can tell God feels when I put my whole self into something. Taking it a bit further, just the other day I commented on the importance of focusing on one thing at a time in some cases. It is interesting to consider all the good that might come and all that I might accomplish from putting my whole self into something that brings me and God joy.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Friday, September 30, 2011
A Life Lesson in Seven Hours Sleep
The title suggests I may have had a "vision" of some sort in my dream. Not quite.
Instead, my entry this morning could be as simple as—"Past three nights’ sleep totals: 4 hours, 4 hours, 7 hours. Feeling better after the seven hours."
That is important but it does not capture the lesson learned because I think that the lesson learned in this case is more than simply “get more sleep”.
Get more sleep implies a better balance. I won’t deny that that is something I need.
Get more sleep in this case, however, implies, in my mind, something a little more. It is not just balance. I try to get in “a little of this and a little of that.” I try to do “a little of this and a little of that.” And, I can sometimes achieve, “a little of this and a little of that” but the key here is “little.” Little time. Little attention. Sometimes that implies little quality.
I have heard and read that there is increasing evidence that humans don’t multi-task very well. In this case, multi-tasking implying trying to do more than one thing at the SAME time. I’d go further to say that it is not clear that this human can even do more than one thing at a time in rapid succession very well. Sometimes I may be forced (by a combination of pressures put on me and choices I have made) to try to do that. But it doesn’t usually work out as well as planned.
The seven hours sleep last night indicate that I needed to give more attention to one thing. It worked. The key for balance may be more to know which thing in my life needs the most attention right away rather than trying to distribute my attention each day. The challenge is working within the constraints that I face based on previous choices. And, for that, I have no easy answer other than to press on while giving more attention to the choices I need to make wisely and with guidance and serenity granted to me by God.
Instead, my entry this morning could be as simple as—"Past three nights’ sleep totals: 4 hours, 4 hours, 7 hours. Feeling better after the seven hours."
That is important but it does not capture the lesson learned because I think that the lesson learned in this case is more than simply “get more sleep”.
Get more sleep implies a better balance. I won’t deny that that is something I need.
Get more sleep in this case, however, implies, in my mind, something a little more. It is not just balance. I try to get in “a little of this and a little of that.” I try to do “a little of this and a little of that.” And, I can sometimes achieve, “a little of this and a little of that” but the key here is “little.” Little time. Little attention. Sometimes that implies little quality.
I have heard and read that there is increasing evidence that humans don’t multi-task very well. In this case, multi-tasking implying trying to do more than one thing at the SAME time. I’d go further to say that it is not clear that this human can even do more than one thing at a time in rapid succession very well. Sometimes I may be forced (by a combination of pressures put on me and choices I have made) to try to do that. But it doesn’t usually work out as well as planned.
The seven hours sleep last night indicate that I needed to give more attention to one thing. It worked. The key for balance may be more to know which thing in my life needs the most attention right away rather than trying to distribute my attention each day. The challenge is working within the constraints that I face based on previous choices. And, for that, I have no easy answer other than to press on while giving more attention to the choices I need to make wisely and with guidance and serenity granted to me by God.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
It had Nothing--or Everything--to do with Running
My social networking friends and followers may be tired of hearing about my tempo runs on Thursdays (a constant when I am running with a Charm City Run group) ut at least they are used to seeing the posts. Today, I did not post. Why?
Well, today's run was functional rather than excellent. The last two weeks were excellent runs--when I hit average paces of 7:01 and 7:02 over seven miles of fast paced runs.
This week was functional. All miles were below the average pace I hope to keep for the marathon. All but the first mile was below the pace I hope to keep for any 10K during the marathon--unless I have a whole lot left for the last 10K. The second three miles in total were faster than the first three--so, I ran negative splits. The last two miles were the fastest. None of that is bad. It is just functional.
First lesson learned--humility. When I get 4 hours of sleep two nights in a row it is hard to run an excellent tempo runs. I have to understand my limits.
Second lesson learned--humility (yes, again). When the twelve preceding days included an 18 mile run during which I ran one of the fastest 13.1 mile segments I'd ever run, Yasso 800's, an excellent tempo workout, a twenty mile run around the city, and a track workout of 3/4 mile repeats that I ended with a 4:39, there is a limit to what I can do. That is why we taper.
Third lesson learned--humility (still, again). I could say it has nothing to do with running. I didn't have a strain, a sprain, an ache, or a pain like I had at this time last year when I could barely run and spent most of my time resting. On the other hand, I have to admit that it has almost everything to do with running--the reason I have been up so late the past two nights is the commitment I've made to running. It is why I am so looking forward to the marathon. Due to the commitment I am ready to run. Due to the commitment I need time to move on to other things for a while.
Through and through--this is a time for humility to remember that there is only so much I can do in so many ways. To thank those who give me the chance. To thank those who run with me. And to thank God for the blessings I have received.
Well, today's run was functional rather than excellent. The last two weeks were excellent runs--when I hit average paces of 7:01 and 7:02 over seven miles of fast paced runs.
This week was functional. All miles were below the average pace I hope to keep for the marathon. All but the first mile was below the pace I hope to keep for any 10K during the marathon--unless I have a whole lot left for the last 10K. The second three miles in total were faster than the first three--so, I ran negative splits. The last two miles were the fastest. None of that is bad. It is just functional.
First lesson learned--humility. When I get 4 hours of sleep two nights in a row it is hard to run an excellent tempo runs. I have to understand my limits.
Second lesson learned--humility (yes, again). When the twelve preceding days included an 18 mile run during which I ran one of the fastest 13.1 mile segments I'd ever run, Yasso 800's, an excellent tempo workout, a twenty mile run around the city, and a track workout of 3/4 mile repeats that I ended with a 4:39, there is a limit to what I can do. That is why we taper.
Third lesson learned--humility (still, again). I could say it has nothing to do with running. I didn't have a strain, a sprain, an ache, or a pain like I had at this time last year when I could barely run and spent most of my time resting. On the other hand, I have to admit that it has almost everything to do with running--the reason I have been up so late the past two nights is the commitment I've made to running. It is why I am so looking forward to the marathon. Due to the commitment I am ready to run. Due to the commitment I need time to move on to other things for a while.
Through and through--this is a time for humility to remember that there is only so much I can do in so many ways. To thank those who give me the chance. To thank those who run with me. And to thank God for the blessings I have received.
Sunday, September 25, 2011
What a Difference a Year Makes
Yesterday, I ran the course preview in preparation for the 2011 Baltimore Marathon. It was so different from last year’s course preview run that I thought it would be worth reflecting on why things are so different. Of course, I am sure that I will have some reflections to share after this year’s marathon in three weeks. But, since I have not been writing nearly as much this year during the training, I think it is worth pausing to make an assessment of how different things were and why that was the case.
Let me begin with a statement that a friend sent me in an email the day before the course preview. She suggested that I run with joy. One year ago, for many reasons, there was little joy in the course preview run—other than finishing at all. This year, the entire experience was different and so much more positive. I could run with joy. And it amazes me how much I can accomplish when I run with joy—or do just about anything with joy. Bringing joy as a primary motivator to my work, my family, or any other activity makes a big difference.
So, why so much difference in the ability to run with joy?
Let me begin with something as simple as the weather. Last year, I don’t have the exact temp written down but it was hot. Probably 80 degrees before 8 AM. It was like a late summer day rather than an early fall day. And trying to run 20 miles without much shade in such temperatures was just crazy. Yesterday was humid, which was still not fun, but not nearly as hot.
The second thing was my own physical status. Last year, I was a first time marathon runner. I’d run two races in September—a 20 mile run at the beginning of the month and a half marathon the week before the course preview. The latter was a very good half marathon for me (personal best on time up to that point) but I made the mistake of scheduling to run a half marathon immediately before getting on a plane for a trip to South Africa. My already sore muscles (last year was the first time I pushed myself to achieve this level of fitness) tightened up more than I ever would have thought possible. When I returned, I spent much of the remaining three weeks in physical therapy. This year, my muscles are a bit sore but it is nothing like last year. One reason—my body has had the experience before. Second reason—my training has been consistent for nearly the past nine months. Third reason—I have taken the consistent training very seriously.
Third thing that was different was some lessons learned since last year—try to get some calories in my body in the morning before I run, hydrate well (even on practice runs), and bring something for calories while I run. Last year, despite the heat, I did not hydrate as much as I should have AND I did not bring anything with me to get more calories in me while I ran. This year, I have had such a different approach before I run, while I run, and even after I run (lots of protein as soon as possible), that it has made a big difference.
The fourth difference is that the course no longer feels like a nemesis to be conquered but more like an old friend. I know that must sound crazy, but here is the thought. Last year, I didn’t know much about the part of the course around the Inner Harbor and I didn’t like the part of the course through either Druid Hill Park or coming away from Lake Montebello. This year, I have run a race and several practice runs around Druid Hill Park. Lake Montebello and 33rd Street are areas that I am more familiar with, and I have had the opportunity to do several practice runs near the Harbor area. So, yesterday’s run was about getting in miles, having a solid (rather than necessarily a very fast) performance, and visiting the places that I know well and that I know I will revisit one more time three weeks from now. Last year, especially on the practice run day, I just felt like I had to overcome. Yesterday was just like checking in. And I think of it as checking in with an old friend as I have friends that will sit across the table from me in discussion and challenge me. Challenge me to change my thinking—which the course has done with respect to my running and from running to how I manage my life in general. Challenge me to change my health behaviors—and, again, I have taken my running to a different level. Challenge me just to live a better life and be a better person.
Now, you may ask how a marathon course has done that. Well, last year I blogged a LOT more often. This year, I have been writing about other things (for work), although I miss blogging. I actually think that it helped me to structure my life better as I took not only a designate time for running but also a designated time for writing almost every day. Structure is good. And, in the end, I turned last year’s experience into a short novel. This year, where did the overall improvement in the rest of my life come from?
The overall improvement came from realizing that, after doing this once, I have something to offer. In a question of whether art imitates life or life imitates art, the story that I wrote had the main character eventually speaking to the group of runners for the charity for which he was raising funds. For me, that will come true in three weeks. In the story I wrote, the main character became a leader within his community. Last year, I was a member of the community. This year, I’m not sure I’d say I’m a leader, but I am definitely a member in a MUCH different way. My running has become a source of being extroverted—gaining strength from a group—rather than being introverted—spending endless hours on my own and enjoying it. I have reached a point at which I encourage others and they encourage me. There are some where we don’t run anywhere near the same times, but my encouragement to them is just to keep getting better—till they are as good as they can get. Their encouragement to me is pretty much the same. And, at the end of the day that is what matters.
Running can make me not only the most fit person and fastest person I can be, but running—in the right proportion with everything else in my life and taken with all the meticulous seriousness that I put into writing a grant or paper at work—can help me to be a better person.
Have I forgotten all the spiritual and life lessons I learned last year, after Gerry Paradiso passed and I raised money for the American Cancer Society? Certainly not. Has the focus shifted a bit from last year? Yes. But I just see it as part of an ongoing evolution that began with my response to Gerry’s passing. And the challenge that I bet most people at his memorial service came away with—to be the best we can be in all that we do.
As a final thought--yesterday I finished the course running north on Linwood back to Patterson park with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. The year before I had to drag myself to the finish. I just hope now that the year in between has brought enough so that I am feeling just as much difference at the end of the marathon as I did at the of the training run.
Let me begin with a statement that a friend sent me in an email the day before the course preview. She suggested that I run with joy. One year ago, for many reasons, there was little joy in the course preview run—other than finishing at all. This year, the entire experience was different and so much more positive. I could run with joy. And it amazes me how much I can accomplish when I run with joy—or do just about anything with joy. Bringing joy as a primary motivator to my work, my family, or any other activity makes a big difference.
So, why so much difference in the ability to run with joy?
Let me begin with something as simple as the weather. Last year, I don’t have the exact temp written down but it was hot. Probably 80 degrees before 8 AM. It was like a late summer day rather than an early fall day. And trying to run 20 miles without much shade in such temperatures was just crazy. Yesterday was humid, which was still not fun, but not nearly as hot.
The second thing was my own physical status. Last year, I was a first time marathon runner. I’d run two races in September—a 20 mile run at the beginning of the month and a half marathon the week before the course preview. The latter was a very good half marathon for me (personal best on time up to that point) but I made the mistake of scheduling to run a half marathon immediately before getting on a plane for a trip to South Africa. My already sore muscles (last year was the first time I pushed myself to achieve this level of fitness) tightened up more than I ever would have thought possible. When I returned, I spent much of the remaining three weeks in physical therapy. This year, my muscles are a bit sore but it is nothing like last year. One reason—my body has had the experience before. Second reason—my training has been consistent for nearly the past nine months. Third reason—I have taken the consistent training very seriously.
Third thing that was different was some lessons learned since last year—try to get some calories in my body in the morning before I run, hydrate well (even on practice runs), and bring something for calories while I run. Last year, despite the heat, I did not hydrate as much as I should have AND I did not bring anything with me to get more calories in me while I ran. This year, I have had such a different approach before I run, while I run, and even after I run (lots of protein as soon as possible), that it has made a big difference.
The fourth difference is that the course no longer feels like a nemesis to be conquered but more like an old friend. I know that must sound crazy, but here is the thought. Last year, I didn’t know much about the part of the course around the Inner Harbor and I didn’t like the part of the course through either Druid Hill Park or coming away from Lake Montebello. This year, I have run a race and several practice runs around Druid Hill Park. Lake Montebello and 33rd Street are areas that I am more familiar with, and I have had the opportunity to do several practice runs near the Harbor area. So, yesterday’s run was about getting in miles, having a solid (rather than necessarily a very fast) performance, and visiting the places that I know well and that I know I will revisit one more time three weeks from now. Last year, especially on the practice run day, I just felt like I had to overcome. Yesterday was just like checking in. And I think of it as checking in with an old friend as I have friends that will sit across the table from me in discussion and challenge me. Challenge me to change my thinking—which the course has done with respect to my running and from running to how I manage my life in general. Challenge me to change my health behaviors—and, again, I have taken my running to a different level. Challenge me just to live a better life and be a better person.
Now, you may ask how a marathon course has done that. Well, last year I blogged a LOT more often. This year, I have been writing about other things (for work), although I miss blogging. I actually think that it helped me to structure my life better as I took not only a designate time for running but also a designated time for writing almost every day. Structure is good. And, in the end, I turned last year’s experience into a short novel. This year, where did the overall improvement in the rest of my life come from?
The overall improvement came from realizing that, after doing this once, I have something to offer. In a question of whether art imitates life or life imitates art, the story that I wrote had the main character eventually speaking to the group of runners for the charity for which he was raising funds. For me, that will come true in three weeks. In the story I wrote, the main character became a leader within his community. Last year, I was a member of the community. This year, I’m not sure I’d say I’m a leader, but I am definitely a member in a MUCH different way. My running has become a source of being extroverted—gaining strength from a group—rather than being introverted—spending endless hours on my own and enjoying it. I have reached a point at which I encourage others and they encourage me. There are some where we don’t run anywhere near the same times, but my encouragement to them is just to keep getting better—till they are as good as they can get. Their encouragement to me is pretty much the same. And, at the end of the day that is what matters.
Running can make me not only the most fit person and fastest person I can be, but running—in the right proportion with everything else in my life and taken with all the meticulous seriousness that I put into writing a grant or paper at work—can help me to be a better person.
Have I forgotten all the spiritual and life lessons I learned last year, after Gerry Paradiso passed and I raised money for the American Cancer Society? Certainly not. Has the focus shifted a bit from last year? Yes. But I just see it as part of an ongoing evolution that began with my response to Gerry’s passing. And the challenge that I bet most people at his memorial service came away with—to be the best we can be in all that we do.
As a final thought--yesterday I finished the course running north on Linwood back to Patterson park with a smile on my face and a spring in my step. The year before I had to drag myself to the finish. I just hope now that the year in between has brought enough so that I am feeling just as much difference at the end of the marathon as I did at the of the training run.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Catholic Church readings from 8/7 and running's gifts to me
The readings the other day really hit the spot for my thinking about my relationship with God and my running. This time I needed to bib numbers and no race times. Those are sometimes important ways to help me focus on discovering something to which I would not have been exposed otherwise or realizing a relationship that I had seen a long time ago but just happened to be reminded of. I will continue to use my race times and bib numbers as a reason to study Bible verses and explore relationships.
However, as I said, this time I needed no prompting. I'll mention the three readings in the order in which the priest spoke about them in the homily: Rom 9:1-5, 1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a, and Mt 14:22-33. The priest's interpretation at the 8 AM mass that I attended was not necessarily a particularly inspired interpretation and could have been predicted from reading the synopsis in the bulletin, but it never hurts to think about what is being said and how it relates to me.
The reading from the letter to the Roman's was a reminder to the Israelites of how much God cared for them and all the gifts God had given to them. I look at the gifts that God has given to me and am reminded to thank God every day. In fact, I should thank him more than once a day for all the gifts I have for God has given me an abundance. One of those gifts is my running.
The reading from the first book of Kings was the reading in which Elijah recognized that the Lord was not in the earthquake or the fire but in a tiny whispering sound. In other words, God is found in the ordinary things and doesn't always require a big event to be part of. God is always there. God will be there when I run the marathon. But God is also there with me on every stride of every run that I do. God, in fact, is with me for me to welcome into my life at every moment of every day. Remembering just how much God not only gives me but is there for me is critical.
The final reading from Matthew is the story of Peter being invited to walk on the water to get to Jesus. Interestingly, in his homily, the priest mentioned the reservoir by which I'll be running this Saturday on a long run. A long run which would be a big deal for a first time marathon runner, but which has become part of the ordinary for me as a second timer. Most importantly, the reading with Peter was about a person believing (even if just for a moment) that they could do something that God has asked them to do and just going for it. Has God asked me to run marathons? Perhaps not directly, but when I think of all the spiritual good that has come from my running, I do like to think that there is a connection between my running and my belief and that what I do is a meaningful part of my relationship with God. Jesus offered Peter his hand when Peter did not believe that he could do what Jesus had asked him to do and grew fearful. Whenever I think that something may be beyond my grasp, I must remember that God is there as a guide--and again, not only on the day of the marathon, but in every stride I take in every workout and in every step I take in life in general.
However, as I said, this time I needed no prompting. I'll mention the three readings in the order in which the priest spoke about them in the homily: Rom 9:1-5, 1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a, and Mt 14:22-33. The priest's interpretation at the 8 AM mass that I attended was not necessarily a particularly inspired interpretation and could have been predicted from reading the synopsis in the bulletin, but it never hurts to think about what is being said and how it relates to me.
The reading from the letter to the Roman's was a reminder to the Israelites of how much God cared for them and all the gifts God had given to them. I look at the gifts that God has given to me and am reminded to thank God every day. In fact, I should thank him more than once a day for all the gifts I have for God has given me an abundance. One of those gifts is my running.
The reading from the first book of Kings was the reading in which Elijah recognized that the Lord was not in the earthquake or the fire but in a tiny whispering sound. In other words, God is found in the ordinary things and doesn't always require a big event to be part of. God is always there. God will be there when I run the marathon. But God is also there with me on every stride of every run that I do. God, in fact, is with me for me to welcome into my life at every moment of every day. Remembering just how much God not only gives me but is there for me is critical.
The final reading from Matthew is the story of Peter being invited to walk on the water to get to Jesus. Interestingly, in his homily, the priest mentioned the reservoir by which I'll be running this Saturday on a long run. A long run which would be a big deal for a first time marathon runner, but which has become part of the ordinary for me as a second timer. Most importantly, the reading with Peter was about a person believing (even if just for a moment) that they could do something that God has asked them to do and just going for it. Has God asked me to run marathons? Perhaps not directly, but when I think of all the spiritual good that has come from my running, I do like to think that there is a connection between my running and my belief and that what I do is a meaningful part of my relationship with God. Jesus offered Peter his hand when Peter did not believe that he could do what Jesus had asked him to do and grew fearful. Whenever I think that something may be beyond my grasp, I must remember that God is there as a guide--and again, not only on the day of the marathon, but in every stride I take in every workout and in every step I take in life in general.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Another Enlightening Back on My Feet Moment
One of the resident runners from Christopher’s place made my day this morning. How? He simply said “thank you”. After a three mile run during which he commented on the hills, and commented on not catching red lights (so he could rest), and commented on how just to look at directions we should stop a moment (to rest), he did manage to run the entire distance without stopping. I ran with him the whole way. It was a heartfelt thank you. It reminded me of the many times I’ve thanked others for helping me with my running.
It was a sign of a bond that continues to develop between me and the resident runners. A sign of the truth that I find in so many situations in life—to be cliché, the more you put in the more you get back.
It also reminded me of a Bible verse. This time, it does not come from any bib number of mine. This time, I could (in a stretch) add together two of my two mile time trials to get 25:40. What is 25:40? Well, if we look to Matthew 25:40, we find:
“And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'”
The resident member from Christopher’s place is not the least of anything. Although if I did not know him from Back on My Feet and saw someone like him on a street corner before he started on the road to recovery, I might have thought of him as the least of my brothers. I still have that built in bias—but I’m learning to shed it.
When all was said and done, he was tired, I helped, he appreciated it and that was that. He showed an attitude of gratitude to me like I have shown a similar attitude to so many others before—brothers and sisters. I hope that others felt as blessed when they helped me as I felt blessed to help Chris.
And, I’ll add one final afterthought. I’ve written before that when all is said and done I think that all social capital is about bonding rather than bridging. Bonding between people regardless of how far the outside world suggests the gap between them might be. It had not occurred to me before that there is an obvious link from scripture to this notion. As Jesus told us that when we do something for the least of our brothers we do it for him,,that, to me, emphasizes that we are all equal. There are no levels. What we have is a need for a mutual sense of reciprocity and we should do for all others exactly what we would hope they would do for us. From helping through a run to saying thank you to any other action small or large.
It was a sign of a bond that continues to develop between me and the resident runners. A sign of the truth that I find in so many situations in life—to be cliché, the more you put in the more you get back.
It also reminded me of a Bible verse. This time, it does not come from any bib number of mine. This time, I could (in a stretch) add together two of my two mile time trials to get 25:40. What is 25:40? Well, if we look to Matthew 25:40, we find:
“And the king will say to them in reply, 'Amen, I say to you, whatever you did for one of these least brothers of mine, you did for me.'”
The resident member from Christopher’s place is not the least of anything. Although if I did not know him from Back on My Feet and saw someone like him on a street corner before he started on the road to recovery, I might have thought of him as the least of my brothers. I still have that built in bias—but I’m learning to shed it.
When all was said and done, he was tired, I helped, he appreciated it and that was that. He showed an attitude of gratitude to me like I have shown a similar attitude to so many others before—brothers and sisters. I hope that others felt as blessed when they helped me as I felt blessed to help Chris.
And, I’ll add one final afterthought. I’ve written before that when all is said and done I think that all social capital is about bonding rather than bridging. Bonding between people regardless of how far the outside world suggests the gap between them might be. It had not occurred to me before that there is an obvious link from scripture to this notion. As Jesus told us that when we do something for the least of our brothers we do it for him,,that, to me, emphasizes that we are all equal. There are no levels. What we have is a need for a mutual sense of reciprocity and we should do for all others exactly what we would hope they would do for us. From helping through a run to saying thank you to any other action small or large.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Get-to's rather than have-to's
Today, I was at Metta Wellness for a post-20in24 massage. This is my third time there and every moment has been worth it. Next month, Sherry gets to go. I hope she enjoys the result of her massage as much as I have felt better after mine.
While I was in the waiting area, I picked up a yoga magazine and there was a lot about gratitude in the first few pages. One person wrote about how much more gratitude she felt and how much better she felt if she thought of her "have-to's" as "get-to's".
I had a moment like that earlier this week. Rarely do I feel that a running workout is a "have to". I enjoy them too much to think of them that way. However, yesterday's hill workout in the heat could have been described as a have to (I still enjoyed it) and even Monday's one mile could have been thought of as a "have to" when I left home. I had run 25.28 miles in three 8.46 mile loops around Fairmount Park in Philadelphia from Saturday mid-morning to Sunday's pre-dawn hours. Drove home Sunday and should have rested more than I did, but really wanted to get back to my Back on My Feet team at Christopher's Place. I sort of felt an obligation after missing three weeks, and I wanted to share stories about the weekend.
When we started, I chose to do one mile. Rarely do I choose to do the minimum. However, my legs were still a bit stiff from the weekend. So, I ran the uphill part of the mile and then went down Cathedral St with a small group. When we were still going down Cathedral, I saw someone leave one of the resident runners and take off with one of the longer-running groups. The resident runner kept going because he wanted to run a mile without stopping. Since I feel that no one in Back on My Feet should ever run alone, even with my stiff legs, I made it a point to catch up to Kani. When all was said and done, he thanked me for coming to run with him and was so happy that he had run the whole thing without stopping.
My "have to" (of meeting up with my team) really had become a "get to" (how often does our running truly help and inspire someone else?). It's too bad every day isn't as easy to see that way. In fact, just about about every day is. Just not as easy to see.
While I was in the waiting area, I picked up a yoga magazine and there was a lot about gratitude in the first few pages. One person wrote about how much more gratitude she felt and how much better she felt if she thought of her "have-to's" as "get-to's".
I had a moment like that earlier this week. Rarely do I feel that a running workout is a "have to". I enjoy them too much to think of them that way. However, yesterday's hill workout in the heat could have been described as a have to (I still enjoyed it) and even Monday's one mile could have been thought of as a "have to" when I left home. I had run 25.28 miles in three 8.46 mile loops around Fairmount Park in Philadelphia from Saturday mid-morning to Sunday's pre-dawn hours. Drove home Sunday and should have rested more than I did, but really wanted to get back to my Back on My Feet team at Christopher's Place. I sort of felt an obligation after missing three weeks, and I wanted to share stories about the weekend.
When we started, I chose to do one mile. Rarely do I choose to do the minimum. However, my legs were still a bit stiff from the weekend. So, I ran the uphill part of the mile and then went down Cathedral St with a small group. When we were still going down Cathedral, I saw someone leave one of the resident runners and take off with one of the longer-running groups. The resident runner kept going because he wanted to run a mile without stopping. Since I feel that no one in Back on My Feet should ever run alone, even with my stiff legs, I made it a point to catch up to Kani. When all was said and done, he thanked me for coming to run with him and was so happy that he had run the whole thing without stopping.
My "have to" (of meeting up with my team) really had become a "get to" (how often does our running truly help and inspire someone else?). It's too bad every day isn't as easy to see that way. In fact, just about about every day is. Just not as easy to see.
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