...but I'm going to try, anyway.
Some of you, like Kayaking Jim And Hiking Scott, will understand what I mean--even though I'm talking about something you both detest. Some of you, mostly my readers who found me from Runner's World, do understand it and could probably describe it better than I can. And a lot of you think I am from Mars and want to know where I hid Roxie's body.
Here's a little secret about me: sometimes I sleep in my running clothes. Sometimes, the night before a long run, I am so excited about it I have trouble getting to sleep. When ice storms and power outages were predicted last week...I confess that my first thoughts weren't "Where are my extra blankets? Do I have batteries? Will my elderly neighbors be alright?" My first thoughts were "Oh no! If it's too icy to run on the streets, and there's no electricity for the treadmill, how will I run 7 miles on Saturday?"
So now you know. I have a running problem.
Not everybody who runs is like this. Everybody approaches it a little differently. Tina sees it as her mission--it's her ministry, her outreach, her calling. Jennifer sees it as her salvation. I think Bruce sees it as a competition that he is going to win, win, win--even if it's only against himself. I think Bob sees it as a business transaction. He puts in this and expects to get back that. With me, though, running is more like a wild and crazy love affair that I hope someday settles down to be my faithful companion for life.
Why?
Did you ever have those dreams where you are flying? I used to. I used to have them all the time. And I happen to think Freud was wrong about their intrepretation. I think what they really are about is a desire to run.
At least that's what it feels like when I am running. It feels like those flying dreams. Yeah. Like that.
Watch this cool new Nike commercial here. Maybe that will help explain.
2007/12/18
2007/12/12
Bravery
I am a shameful scaredy-cat.
Some people would argue that I am not. They reason that because I work in a prison, because I love rappelling, and because I look forward to things like public speaking excuses, parties with strangers, first dates, two-hour runs, singing solo and spilling my guts right here for the world to see, that I must be brave.
Well, they are wrong.
I'm not.
I'm a big chicken.
None of those things count as courage because none of those things scare me.
What scares me are the things that other people seem to be doing without hesitation. Every day I see people do brave stuff. They make decisions and speak their minds. They plan trips. They throw things away. They let go of their children. They cry at movies. They care about people. They let people care about them. They tell people what they really think. Those things are what I find scary. When I make myself do them, I feel very, very brave.
And then there are the people I know who have the kind of bravery I don't want. I don't want that kind of bravery because I don't ever want to need it. The kind of bravery that you need to kill cancer, live with multiple sclerosis, give up drugs, give yourself shots, and keep on going after you hear, "We're sorry, there's nothing more we can do." Where, where, where does that kind of bravery come from?
God is the only place I know. The conventional wisdom is that God only gives you what you need, when you need it, and not before. Which seems frustrating at times, but was actually one of His more brilliant ideas. If I were God, I would have just given everyone all the courage they'd ever need right upfront. Sounds good, yeah, but if we never had fear, life would get pretty crazy, pretty quick. I doubt my kids would have survived toddlerhood if they'd had much more bravery. Think about it--thanks to fear, we have vaccines, seatbelts, motorcyle helmets and birth control. A little fear is not such a bad thing to have.
I looked up Bible verses on bravery. Here is one I especially liked:
4 say to those with fearful hearts,
"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you."
~Isaiah 35:4
When I read that, though, I wonder "Who is God talking to here..everyone, everywhere, or just the ancient Jews in exile? When is he talking about saving us, here, in our present situation, or eternally in the afterlife? Or both? How do I know?" and other spectacularly un-helpful thoughts like that. But eventually I always come up with this: The God in the Bible, and the God I have come to know over my lifetime, is the kind of God who does rescue people. So even if I may be mis-appropriating a verse here, I don't think it makes much difference. I think I will choose to believe that God does come with a vengeance when we are threatened. I will believe He does save us. I will believe we are safe. And when you feel safe, it's a little easier to feel brave. A little.
Some people would argue that I am not. They reason that because I work in a prison, because I love rappelling, and because I look forward to things like public speaking excuses, parties with strangers, first dates, two-hour runs, singing solo and spilling my guts right here for the world to see, that I must be brave.
Well, they are wrong.
I'm not.
I'm a big chicken.
None of those things count as courage because none of those things scare me.
What scares me are the things that other people seem to be doing without hesitation. Every day I see people do brave stuff. They make decisions and speak their minds. They plan trips. They throw things away. They let go of their children. They cry at movies. They care about people. They let people care about them. They tell people what they really think. Those things are what I find scary. When I make myself do them, I feel very, very brave.
And then there are the people I know who have the kind of bravery I don't want. I don't want that kind of bravery because I don't ever want to need it. The kind of bravery that you need to kill cancer, live with multiple sclerosis, give up drugs, give yourself shots, and keep on going after you hear, "We're sorry, there's nothing more we can do." Where, where, where does that kind of bravery come from?
God is the only place I know. The conventional wisdom is that God only gives you what you need, when you need it, and not before. Which seems frustrating at times, but was actually one of His more brilliant ideas. If I were God, I would have just given everyone all the courage they'd ever need right upfront. Sounds good, yeah, but if we never had fear, life would get pretty crazy, pretty quick. I doubt my kids would have survived toddlerhood if they'd had much more bravery. Think about it--thanks to fear, we have vaccines, seatbelts, motorcyle helmets and birth control. A little fear is not such a bad thing to have.
I looked up Bible verses on bravery. Here is one I especially liked:
4 say to those with fearful hearts,
"Be strong, do not fear;
your God will come,
he will come with vengeance;
with divine retribution
he will come to save you."
~Isaiah 35:4
When I read that, though, I wonder "Who is God talking to here..everyone, everywhere, or just the ancient Jews in exile? When is he talking about saving us, here, in our present situation, or eternally in the afterlife? Or both? How do I know?" and other spectacularly un-helpful thoughts like that. But eventually I always come up with this: The God in the Bible, and the God I have come to know over my lifetime, is the kind of God who does rescue people. So even if I may be mis-appropriating a verse here, I don't think it makes much difference. I think I will choose to believe that God does come with a vengeance when we are threatened. I will believe He does save us. I will believe we are safe. And when you feel safe, it's a little easier to feel brave. A little.
2007/12/11
Thank You!
I was in the grocery store, charging around the aisles all willy-nilly, trying to remember what I came for, talking on the phone, paying no attention to who else may have been in the store.
One of the clerks tapped me on the arm and said, "Excuse me, Ma'am, but someone who just left paid for a poinsettia, pointed you out, and said it was for you. And, no, I can't tell you who it was."
And she meant it, too. I couldn't get her to tell me anything more about it. And I am stumped. Completely.
Whoever you are out there, if you happen to be one of my readers, thank you! You made my day, gave me a beautiful centerpiece (which inspired me to clean off my dining room table!) and, even better still, challenged me to start thinking of possibilities for wreaking some annonymous Christmas Cheer of my own.
So watch out. It's on.
2007/12/05
We Stand Behind Jennifer Love Hewitt's Behind
It was big enough that it made both the MSN and Yahoo welcome pages yesterday. No, not her backside; her defense of her backside. In case you missed the vital news event, you can catch up on it here. But if you'd rather, I'll give you the condensed version myself.
Here it is: A star on vacation gets a horribly unflattering shot of her rump published with some extremely rude comments. This is not news. This is not interesting. However, her response was.
This is from her website
Can you hear the screaming and stomping and cheering from women everywhere? Yeah. That's us normal people out here. The ones who don't have the luxury of focusing on our cellulite 24/7. Girls like me who are giving it all they've got, but are still just praying to zip up size 12 pants sometime in the next fiscal quarter. Real people.
To be fair, though, the tabloids are just playing to a very primal instinct: that drive to choose--or if you can't choose, at least admire--the best possible specimens for propagating the species. Muscular, sleek, young bodies appeal to that part of our DNA. It's biology.
But you know what else is hard-wired into our cells? The drive to hang onto every available calorie in our environment to prepare for times of famine. Yeah. That's in our biology, too.
Interesting, isn't it? Both sides of this ongoing drama are actually struggling--and usually losing--with the same problem. We have inherited something that once ensured our survival, but is now just a useless, bored trouble-maker.
I wonder what those starvation-mongers who work for tabloids would think if they realized that they have more in common with this chocolate-loving soccer momma in Wal-Mart jeans than those Beautiful People they worship?
Here it is: A star on vacation gets a horribly unflattering shot of her rump published with some extremely rude comments. This is not news. This is not interesting. However, her response was.
This is from her website
"I've sat by in silence for a long time now about the way women's bodies are constantly scrutinized. To set the record straight, I'm not upset for me, but for all of the girls out there that are struggling with their body image...A size 2 is not fat! Nor will it ever be. And being a size 0 doesn't make you beautiful. … To all girls with butts, boobs, hips and a waist, put on a bikini – put it on and stay strong."
Can you hear the screaming and stomping and cheering from women everywhere? Yeah. That's us normal people out here. The ones who don't have the luxury of focusing on our cellulite 24/7. Girls like me who are giving it all they've got, but are still just praying to zip up size 12 pants sometime in the next fiscal quarter. Real people.
To be fair, though, the tabloids are just playing to a very primal instinct: that drive to choose--or if you can't choose, at least admire--the best possible specimens for propagating the species. Muscular, sleek, young bodies appeal to that part of our DNA. It's biology.
But you know what else is hard-wired into our cells? The drive to hang onto every available calorie in our environment to prepare for times of famine. Yeah. That's in our biology, too.
Interesting, isn't it? Both sides of this ongoing drama are actually struggling--and usually losing--with the same problem. We have inherited something that once ensured our survival, but is now just a useless, bored trouble-maker.
I wonder what those starvation-mongers who work for tabloids would think if they realized that they have more in common with this chocolate-loving soccer momma in Wal-Mart jeans than those Beautiful People they worship?
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