So, I ran a half-marathon yesterday.The final time for me was 2:29 (half way was around 1:03. I kind of aimed in my head to just finish. After thinking about it, the last half of the race I kind of ambled a little bit, but honestly I just didn’t know what my body would do once it passed 9 miles (the longest I’d run up until that point). At the very least, it was incredibly fun and I’d like to do one again (I’m not sure if I’d do one this year or not, but for sure would do the Illinois Marathon next year).

I think the experience taught me some lessons too. It was a study in patience and has been for some time. It was far too easy to run the first few miles fast without consideration of mile 8. Mile 8, btw, on this race totally sucked; it was a tedious long run through a park. My temptation to stop up until that point was really burdened by the fact that mile 8 was waiting for me. Mile 8 also brought with it the realization that I had 5 more beyond that.

I spent the majority of the time meditating on Hebrews 12:1. In Hebrews 11, there is a long list of people who were heroes of the faith; people who did some incredible things and 12:1 turns the corner and says ‘Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight and the sin which so easily entangles and run with perseverance the race that is set before us.’ Earlier that morning before I ran a few dear friends sent their well wishes for a good race on facebook. I spent alot time thinking about the people who were encouraging to me; friends from the adoption community, people at church who’ve run, heroes of the faith for me, my wife who was waiting at the end of the race and meditating on their influence pushing me forward to the goal.

I also spent a good deal of time thinking about ‘perseverance’ and how that race was such a model of life. I saw a shirt on the way, one of several that struck me, that said ‘begin with the end in mind’. But you know what? There were a few times I thought about the end of the race and the drama of running into Memorial Stadium and what I would do but I spent more time thinking about running and the moment. I’ve found I loved long distance running because of this. Instead of thinking of the experience as ‘a race’, it was a meditation on patience. It was far too easy to succumb to despair at mile 8 in the park if I thought about the next five and how long it would take and how much my legs hurt. So yeah, I guess I ran without the end in mind and more of making sure my legs were moving for the duration. It was more a game of patience and it’s hard to describe just how challenging and fun that was. I gravitated quite a bit to the ‘run with perseverance’ segment of Hebrews 12.

My favorite moments of the half marathon began at the start. At the gun, I started my playlist for the run – ‘The gospel brings tidings’ by Red Mountain Church and ‘I am the Highway’ by Audioslave; both are slower thoughtful songs. The third track was ‘Remember the name’ by Fort Minor. Yes, it’s a ‘Jock Jam’ and kind of cheesy, but as Mike Shinoda belts out ‘You ready??? Let’s go…’ and the beat kicks in I was moving my feet across the starting line. Another favorite music moment was ‘There’s a louder shout to come’ from the Urbana 2000 worship CD finishing off the playlist as I ran past the assembly hall and into memorial stadium. It was a beautiful picture of the heaven and the end of our run because we will have the freedom to stop and to enjoy the rest God gave us. Seeing people running into the stadium was a lesson in that too; some ran hard in, some crawled in with the realization that their race was finished, some looked victorious and some just looked beat up but everybody that crossed the finish line was amazing to watch. I bet I could have watched that all day.

So, Tuesday I’m planning on getting out for a mile or two just to take it easy and then I’ll build back up from there to 4-5 miles again. Definitely going to do another one.

This post has been building for me for a while to. When I was six, I drove my parents mad because every night I’d perpetually have a bad dream. I would end up walking through the entire dark house (our room and Mom and Dad’s were on separate ends of the house) and I’d wake up my mom (pre monitor days) and complain that I’d gotten a bad dream to which I’d receive a hug, a gentle reminder that it would be ok and then I’d be sent back to bed (really bad ones credited a trip back with me to my room to be tucked in and hugged.

Flash forward thirty years and we’re beginning to hit that same stage; we’ve been fortunate to not have night terrors up until now with Aidan; I’ve heard horror stories about 3 and 4 year olds being unconsolable and keeping their parents up for most of the night. Now that we’re in the new house, Aidan’s bad dreams have begun to kick in in force. There’s been about 3 or 4 nights in the past week that he’s been up for at least an hour and a half (sometimes longer) complaining; to the point where he’d prefer the door be completely open.

I’ve got to admit, I’ve not been the best at 3 a.m. (I’m sure my mom wasn’t either, but she hid it better). There’s been a couple of times where I’ve complained to Melissa and grumbled while walking into the room that I’d ‘needed to get up in 30 minutes to exercise’ or ‘I’ve not gotten any sleep that night’.

Today I remembered what an occasional awful dad I am. Peter Gabriel did a CD in the early nineties called ‘Us’, dealing with his break up with his wife and subsequent mental breakdown and stay in a psychiatric ward for a while during a depression. It’s a compelling, intimate CD that is so emotive at points that you’d think your heart would burst open for him. One particular song, ‘Come talk to me’ was covered recently by Bon Iver and is breathtakingly beautiful. I ran to it this morning as my opening song of the run and as God lit the day and the brush strokes of clouds gathered around the sun welcoming it to the sky again, this verse came up:

“The wretched desert takes it’s form, The Jackal proud and tight
In search of you I feel my way through the slowest heaving night
Whatever fear invents, I swear it makes no sense
I reach out through the border fence
Come down, come talk to me
In the swirling, curling storm of desire unuttered words hold fast
With reptile tongue, lightning lashes towers built to last
Darkness creeps in like a thief and offers no relief
why are you shaking like a leaf?
come on, come talk to me

Please talk to me
won’t you please talk to me?
We can unlock this misery
Come on, come talk to me
I did not come to steal
This all is so unreal
Can’t you show me how you feel now?
Come on, come talk to me”

I could go on, but watching the beauty that God had laid out in front of me, I realized how patient He is with me when I complain or murmur or am fearful of change (I could go on about that one). I realized what a privilege that I squander on my own selfishness it is to be the voice Aidan cries out out for at night. That I have the access at this point in his life to ask ‘Why are you shaking like a leaf? Come talk to me’ and know that he will. That I can call his dreams out for being the unreal phantoms that they are. He’ll still have them, I know, brain development is such that his little toddler/baby/boy brain is beginning it’s long march to adulthood now. It will blossom, sometimes painfully, into a thoughtful man’s brain. I’m just praying for patience to care for that seed carefully now.

By the way, the Bon Iver cover of that song really is exceptionally beautiful; you would do well for yourself to hear the original and then hear Bon Iver’s cover.

So, about 7 months or so ago now I picked up running (partly out of necessity). A value as a family we’ve wanted to get across to our kids has been stewardship of your body; that moving and keeping active will help. It’s been further beat down by mentors who are in their 50’s and active and hitting the importance of your late 30’s being the tipping point for health.

So, I took up running. I have to say it’s been fabulous so far. Melissa and I are training for a half-marathon in May and it’s getting to be crunch time with that.

It’s been beneficial for me on a few levels to run. First, health. I’ve found that I can blow through about 400-1000 calories per run (est.). Dealing with my late 30’s it’s important, no critical to exercise and I’m loving the hour investment returns.

Spiritually, the benefits have been there as well. The particular music I listen to lends itself to worship or meditation on the truths of God and being out for an hour pushing myself to not stop  is a strong allegory and can help me think through how God sees me, the benefits of being patient and the long game that God plays. It’s too easy for me to get impatient and to look for an answer to a prayer or to being in a situation and running has helped negate that because the benefits to being out aren’t immediate, but the pain is.

Technically, I have to say I love running in 39 degree weather the best. The geek in me has loved figuring out layering and details related to a long run. The clothing technology and how your body overheats a bit has really been interesting to. Being out for a short run and getting into it and not paying attention to the cold is really fun.

Finally, music. I’m a fan. Can’t say much more, so putting together a running playlist over the past 5 months has been a blast. Figuring out which songs do well where and what they communicate is awesome. It’s given me an excuse to listen to a few genre’s of music (rap, I’m looking at you) that work well for running.

So this week for me is big for a few reasons, least of which is the longest run I’ve ever done is Saturday – 7 miles. It’s going to be nuts.

If ever there were a song that I actively hate, it’s ‘Cat’s in the cradle’ by Harry Chapin (go look it up if you want to download it). The song paints a dire picture of a father/son relationship where the father is a driven, career obsessed man who never has time for his son and the son, only knowing that kind of affection, grows up and slights his father constantly.

Yes, it was a generation ago, yes it was the stoic, career obsessed Boomers purposefully ignoring their gen-x kiddies but it really has haunted me as a parent, even so in the morass of the thirties. What frustrates me is that the song sets up a false choice; career or family. What’s even more frustrating and lie filed is those who have chosen a career closer to family are penalized when work beckons them during a particular season.

So I’m declaring war on lies; lies of guilt when you have to work, lies that fail to separate longing for a friend with a perception of lack of care and promoting the freedom to just spend time with your kids and enjoy the amazing people that they are.

Often our family does a ‘family dance’ night post dinner that amounts to cranking up the iPod and goofing around in the Kitchen. Tonight was Vampire Weekend’s ‘Contra’ album. If you’ve not heard it, it’s a artsy retake on Peter Gabriel/Paul Simon’s Afro-pop phases. If you’ve liked ‘Graceland’, this CD would be a good companion. Admittedly, I’ve distrusted Vampire weekend for sometime while liking the music, but after working through this song, it’s growing on me. This is one of the more creative videos I’ve seen of late: