Courage

Our kids  were watching  The Princess Diaries  the other day.  The following quote towards the end of the movie caught my attention: 

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.  The brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all." 

The book upon which the movie is based was written by Meg Cabot.

Hmmm.  No doubt this grabbed my attention because I am the definition of cautious.  "Ouch", my sensitive nature said to itself.  But this is not news to me.  I am self-aware enough to know this to be fact.

The problem is that it is difficult to live outside of your nature.  My first instinct, in just about every situation, is to be cautious.  Then, once I have the time to look at the situation with some clarity, I can attempt to gain control of the fear which sparked the cautiousness in the first place.  It is all very analytical, isn't it?

So the question is... How do people act out "courage".  Is it through such an analytical process?  Is it a decision to put fear aside because "something else is more important"?

Perhaps that happens at times - that courage is a decision made in opposition to some other emotion.

On the other hand, I suspect courage is sometimes an innate response in some people.  They don't go through an analytical process and decide they will be courageous.  The just do it.

That is the kind of courageous I want to be.  But I'm not.  And that's why I put my faith in Someone who IS that kind of person.  And out of that relationship, I believe that when the time calls for me to have courage, I He will.

Minute by Minute

Back in the day, Michael McDonald was one of my favorite musicians.  He was with the Doobie Brothers at the time.

During the '80-'81 school year, I went to see them in Philly with some friends in college.  As I recall, in attendance were my roommate Bill (his family lives 10 minutes away, and our children are best friends), my other roommate Dave (he was a character, and disappeared part way through the year), Paul  (he would be my roommate two years later), and another Bill (he lived across the hall from us, and I was disappointed that he transferred to another college later).

Little did I know that during that era in my life,  McDonald's voice would set the bar for voices.  The question is - is it really that good, or was it related to the fact that I heard him during impressionable years, and he would become one of the people from "The Good Ole Days."

We all know "Good Ole Days" people (present company included).  They harp on what it was like "back then".  Nothing compares to "back then".  Something happened "back then" that made a huge impression.  It wasn't necessarily about the quality of the thing - it was about the time, the people, the whole event.  I think it has something to do with the theory that the mind is a blank slate, and new memories receive much more hard drive space on the brain, thus making them more "memorable".


This is McDonald in 2006, singing a Doobie Brothers song.

Turns out, this is NOT one of those "Good Ole Days" events.  In fact, he was good then, and only improved with age.  You may not like his style, but I can't imagine anyone disputing the quality of his voice.

And those guys at the concert with me?  There is no dispute about the quality of those friendships.

OWN the NIGHT

Front of Bookmark

Back of Bookmark

Our Sarah entered a bookmark contest at the Greenwood Public Library in Greenwood, DE.

When I got home today, she came to me and said "Mommy told me to show this to you."

Sarah did not inherit one single ounce of drawing talent from me.  But it must have been hibernating in my blood, as my brother Buddy is equally talented.

Simple Pleasures

I stumbled upon a runner's blog today by chance, and thought to myself  "This is really boring to read."  And I'm a runner.  Note to self:  blogging about running is boring.


It has been exactly one week since the terrible calf strain (see previous post).  I have been diligent to ice the leg a few times a day, and to rest it from running.

Yesterday, I was traipsing around Lowes  (well, I wasn't exactly traipsing - I was on a mission - but traipse is a good word, and should be used more often, even if inappropriately).   I was eager to test the leg, so I ran for short distances... down an aisle or two, and from the exit door back to my truck.  I felt no pain whatsoever.  In fact my injured left leg felt better than my right.

This morning, I did notice some soreness in the leg.  But that disappeared later in the day.  So before dinner, I took a very cautious slow run of just over a half mile.  I have never run so anxiously.  Again, no pain.  I stretched afterwards, and iced the calf.  We shall see how it is tomorrow, but I fully expect to feel some soreness.

Once I get back on track, I think I will be more grateful than ever for the simple pleasure of running.


Note to the reader:  The above is not a blog entry about running.  It is a blog entry about not fully knowing what you have until you lose it.

The Arts

Some very good friends of ours invited us to attend an outdoor showing of the movie "Homeward Bound" beside the Riverwalk in Salisbury, MD.  The event was put on by the Salisbury Wicomico Arts Council.  There is something irresistible about outdoor events in the summer.

Roma Old Bay Sausage

We shared dinner together beforehand in our friends' new home.  The old bay sausages expertly barbequed on the grill were a huge hit. 

We were handed a pamphlet at the movie by someone from the Arts Council.  I noticed a quote at the top of the page, which said:  "The arts are a gift to our souls, that we may achieve gladness in the midst of tedious living.  The arts are our entitlement to lift ourselves to higher ground, simply for the asking." 

Finally, someone has put into words why I listen to music, why I drag my family to concerts in the summer, why a good book is a thing to ponder on for weeks, why every dollar spent towards ballet lessons for our girls is a dollar well spent, why the sound of the clarinet and saxophone are music to our ears in our home, why I mix the sound for the family who leads worship at our church, why I badly attempt to accompany that family with the djembe, why I love to see our Sarah draw, why I am fascinated by architecture, and why I write.

Food may actually be a fine art as well.  Maybe that's why I enjoy eating so much.

What Pain Makes You Think About.

I knew from the beginning that there was going to be a risk of injury in training for a half-marathon and a marathon.  So I have been diligent to keep a watchful eye for shin splints, which come from increasing mileage too fast.

Last week involved an 8 mile run, which I bumped up a day to Friday , following a 4 mile Thursday run.  At about mile 6, I noticed some soreness in the back of my left calf.  But it was tolerable, and I attributed it to muscle soreness.  No big reason for concern.  We helped some friends move on Saturday, and I did a short 3 mile run on Sunday.  Monday was a scheduled day off.

I knew I couldn't run after work on Tuesday, so at 6:30 a.m., after a cup of coffee, I set out for an easy 3 mile run.  I was thinking of the song "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman.  I had just been discussing a 3 beat drum part with the worship leader of our church, and had the song in my mind.  At the end of the first mile, the pain in the back of my calf started to increase, and in about the next 3 steps, it increased to the intensity of a cramp, and brought me to a wincing stop.

I debated as to whether it was actually a cramp.  But cramps are usually accompanied by a sensation of the muscle tightening and pulling. There was none of that.  It let up some, and I continued walking, thinking I could walk it off.

When I was certain it wasn't a cramp but most likely a pull,  I did what all good Christians do, and began to talk to the Good Lord about my injured leg.  "Lord, this is a good thing I'm doing, isn't it?  I just did ponder on the idea that my body is made for marathon running.  And I'm doing it.  But apparently I screwed up, and I would appreciate it if you would take care of this leg, even though I brought on this injury myself."  Often prayer is an effort to convince God why He should do what you want Him to do, and to get rescued from your own stupidity.

Nothing much to speak of happened. I kept walking through about the 2nd mile, and was able to run gingerly most of the last mile.

A quick self-diagnosis via the all-knowing internet revealed that I most likely have a "grade 1 calf strain" meaning that "the muscle is stretched causing some small micro tears in the muscle fibers.  Full recovery takes approximately two weeks."  (About.com Sports Medicine)  Running that last mile... not smart.
  
Geez.  This is going to wreak havoc with my training schedule.  I'm supposed to get in a 9, a 10, and another 8 mile run in the next three weeks before the half-marathon.  Not sure that is even a possibility now.  Even if after a week of rest the leg is good, you're supposed to ease back into your routine. 

While I was trying to walk off the pain, the whole question of why God answers some prayers and not others came to mind.  Admittedly, this particular situation rates in the negative numbers on the scale of importance, but the principle is true nonetheless.  I knew the answer to why God did not heal my leg instantaneously, but sometimes the answer isn't so clear.

The crux of the issue is that God doesn't seem to often intervene into the natural course of events.  He lets lots of things just happen.  In this case, when I run too much too soon, I risk injury.  Anyone would say that the appropriate response from God in that situation would be to let me get what I deserve.

But sometimes God does intervene despite a lack of good sense.  Perhaps the best example of this is what Christians call "salvation".  We believe that despite the fact we have failed and will continue to fail as the human beings we were created to be, we are nevertheless forgiven and put to good use because we accept the work of Christ. There are endless stories of men and women who, had they continued on the path they were on, would have led lives of waste and destruction.  God stepped into their situations and changed the natural course of events.  These people will tell you that it was not a superhuman effort on their parts to alter the course of their lives, but rather they cried out to God, and were snatched off one path, and put on another.  But even in these situations, the believer often finds that his life is changed in some areas, yet in others, he continues to struggle, his pleas to God for deliverance ignored.

A very common situation that most have experienced is a plea for God to alter an everyday situation - difficult financial circumstances, trouble in a relationship, issues our children experience.  We ask God for help.  Sometimes He does, but sometimes He seems to ignore what we desire.

And then there are the stories of events which God apparently stepped into and altered the natural course.  They are often situations which can be attributed to good luck, but the believer attributes them to the hand of God.  Healings fall into this category.  Generally, God seems to ignore requests for outright miraculous healings, and the claims of such healings sometimes seem questionable. 

These are just a few of the types of things in which God operates in a way that is difficult to understand.  The problem arises due to the fact that we don't know when God will intervene, and when He won't.  This is perhaps the most difficult aspect about faith.  The real test comes when God is silent in situations we think He should intervene.  Bad things happening to good people through no fault of their own is the classic example.

What God does and does not do is His prerogative.  And the essence of faith is that the believer chooses to accept that premise.  Sure, he occasionally questions God's choices.  That's only human.

But in the end, faith says "I don't know what God knows.  And if He can live with His decision, then I'll trust Him to make me live with it as well."

Like I've said before, there is almost always a larger point. 

Weakness or Asset?

Today I learned that one of my suspicions is actually based in some science.  I was built for distance running.  According to an article I read by Adam Cole of NPR, I may have inadvertently stumbled into where I am meant to be.

Cole says that people with a high center of gravity make the best sprinters.  This is because running is basically a controlled fall forward.  The higher the center of gravity, the more quickly the body naturally tends to move in the desired direction.  And tall runners naturally have a higher center of gravity.  This is partly why Usain Bolt is having such success.  On top of a tall stature, I suppose his large muscular upper body also raises the center of gravity even higher.

While I have the height, I was short changed in the upper body department, and instead God chose the minimalist approach when sculpting mine.  What should have been a high center of gravity was negated by my upper body.  The lack of fast twitch muscle fibers is another whole issue, and we won't even go there.

But all is not lost.  Cole goes on to say that the most efficient marathon runner has a different body type altogether.  His greatest enemy is heat build up.  He says a "small, thin, light body" is ideal.  There is less volume to produce heat, and more relative surface area to dissipate it.  Height can vary, as long as the body is light.

I knew I had a knack for running in the heat, and figured it had to do with my body type.  What I didn't consider is that if my goal was to run marathons (which it isn't, on a regular basis, but lets just say it was for the sake of discussion), then my lanky physique is actually a gift.

There is a larger point here (there is almost always a larger point).  It is this - those things we often view as a weakness may in fact be an asset for some yet-to-be-determined task.  This I learned from Owen Meany.