Blessed Runs

Every day is a gift and a blessing from God, though I often forget that until God reminds me...like he did several times over the last week.
I ran six miles last Saturday, stopping only to gulp down more water as it was hot (this is Virginia after all and it was about 80 degrees at 7:00 p.m., as I recall. And I can walk and drink, but I'm too uncoordinated to run and drink.) I felt well and was running well, up the steep hills to Gypsy Hill Park, three times around the track and up one more hill before home. About 2/3 of the way up that last hill, my legs went rubbery.
"Hmmm, well I'm not flat on my face so I must still be running," I thought. "It doesn't hurt, so they must be okay. Hmm, seems the legs know what they are supposed to do even if I don't know what they're doing. Guess I'll keep going."
And I did, doing 6 miles in 1:07:18 -- my last six mile run was Easter Sunday, March 27, 2005. And I thanked God.
Two days later, on Monday night I did a 5K in 34 minutes -- two minutes faster than the last record setter. I thanked God again. There's been immense improvement since that "Mind Over Matter" run where I forced myself to slog on. Apparently that's what I needed to do -- force myself through a psychological barrier.
Then last night I ran 1600 meter repeats on the college track at an original goal pace of 2:30 per lap. After a warm up mile under ten minutes, I upped my goal a tad. My fastest 1600 was 9:38. I was so pumped! And it felt good. But the real blessings poured in near the end of my workout.
A walker on the track repeatedly moved far right when he heard me come up so I "could have the inside track." On my third 1600 he shouted, "Aren't you close to 5 miles?"
Working hard I smiled and, between gasps for breath, said, "Almost".
While I gulped some water before my one mile cool-down, he stopped walking and gathered with a group of people taking a break on the opposite side of the track at a bench there. I began my one mile cool down, and then two laps before the end, he interrupted his chat with the group.
"You gotta be at 5 miles," he said.
I held up two fingers and said, "two laps."
I finished the cool down on the opposite side of the track from him, finished my water and headed toward home. He matched my pace on the opposite side and caught up to me at the end the track.
"You did great," he said. "That takes a lot of discipline, what you just did. I watched you -- you were timing yourself, pacing yourself. I am proud of you."
And I answered, "Thanks be to God. About ten years ago I was walking with a cane and never dreamed I'd really walk again, let alone run. And then I had a fall almost two years ago that set me back a bit. But God has healed my legs, healed deformed hands, and even let me run."
And he said, "And let you be a witness through your running. You do know your running IS a witness."
And then he started "preaching" -- working his way from Job through the New Testament. He's a parole officer who thought he would retire at 55, but "God had other plans. God wants us to question...not whine and moan, but He does want us to question because that's how we learn...Parents tell their kids to ask the teachers questions, but then when the kid questions the parents they get mad. Get mad at the attitude, I say, not the kids' questions....Folks say life is hard, and it can be. But our reactions don't have to be...It's the way we react to life that builds the future and our character."
"Exponentially," I said.
"Amen," he said and continued even more enthusiastically.
"When the women (I'm responsible for) tell me that their men have told them, 'You're nothing but a whore,' I tell them that the statement WAS meant for harm, meant to insult. But don't react. Turn that statement around and make it a complement....Just think. Your man thinks you still got it...No matter what the struggle, just keep on a going."
There was far more insight paralleling the disciplines of a runner with the discipline for maintaining good character, all interspersed with scripture. And was I ever pumped when he finished. His enthusiasm for life, for his work (his second job), for those for whom he's responsible, for his family, for His God --- all that enthusiasm poured out of Him and into me. His "first family," he said, is raised and on their own, but now he and his wife are raising a "second family" of kids he and his wife adopted ("They didn't have good parents," he said.) And one of those kids was the reason for him being at the track. He was watching one of those kids play ball on the field alongside the track.
I was getting cold, as the breeze on my sweaty self was too much and I hadn't brought a jacket (yesterday was much cooler than it's been for weeks). But I listened as long as I could and then during a break, I said, "Hey...thanks! you've been a real blessing to me and encouraged me a lot. Thank you so much!"
I am STILL pumped up today after that visit. I have had plenty of opportunties to share my faith when I run, but never thought that the very act of running itself might be an encouragement and a blessing to others; that my discipline, my pacing, my continuing on would be an encouragement to others. And THAT gives a whole new meaning to my runs.
And God wasn't done blessing me through the week's runs. I called my buddy Nelson (about my age) today at lunch; he's thinking about a mini-triathalon (I'm not sure of the technical term). He's an avid cyclist and swimmer; he ran track in high school, but hasn't run regularly since. If he does, it's usually sprints. That's what the running he likes. But he had already done a mile, mile and a half earlier in the week.
Today shortly after putting his cellphone earpiece in his ear, he asked, "Got your watch handy?" I grabbed it and he said, "Say 'Go."
"One, two, three, go!"
I could hear the slap of his feet hitting the track and the deep, but steady breathing of a runner.
"I think I started out too fast," he said.
"That's okay. Slow down till you catch your breath and then adjust your pace. It's just the excitement of knowing you're being timed," I said. Like life, I thought, running is all about pacing and adjusting the pace. Endurance running, staying steady over the long haul takes a whole different set of skills from a sprint. I was too quiet and Nelson, 9 hours away by car, said, "Keep talking...I can listen."
How was I supposed to maintain a conversation when, on the other end of the line, someone was on their way to a new victory? It was much easier to listen for steady breathing, a steady pace, to know my friend was doing okay. But without actually seeing him, I didn't know what to say, how to encourage. So I asked how it was going.
"2d lap, starting the third."
Whoa! Just 4 minutes had passed.
"Nelson, you're doing better than an 8 minute mile."
A couple minutes later, he said, "I don't have a kick"
"No matter...you're doing awesome." And then suddenly it was over, the first timed mile on a journey to a possible triathalon, and between 7:50 and 7:55 (Not bad for an "old man" new to running! I was so excited I missed his first "I'm done.")
And I was blessed again -- this time by someone else's victory and someone else's runs.
God is good! and sometimes we even get to see it. The rest of the time, we live by faith.