Two weeks in and I'm still running. Working my way up to 40 minutes of running 4 days a week. I had to start slow because you can't just start running 40 minutes a day after years of nothing. So I started running 30 minutes. Well, actually, 15 minutes. Not in a row, either. I ran 3 minutes, walked 3 minutes, 5 times over. That was 15 minutes of running and 15 minutes of walking in 30 minutes. It's not fantastic but at least I can say I'm running.
Now I'm running 5, walking 2 and a half, 4 times over. That means I'm running 20 minutes a day (and wallking 10). Not 20 minutes in a row. Not 30 minutes yet. Not nearly 40 straight minutes of running. But I'll get there. Hey, 2 weeks in I'm still running!
That's what I'm learning about being a runner. "I'm still running!"
"I could run 40 minutes today if I decided to." That would not mean I'm a runner.
"I ran 40 minutes today." Even that does not make me a runner. A 40 minute run one day, even today, does not make me a runner. A runner is someone who runs everyday. A runner is someone who runs. Not just because they can, or they did once, or they will when they have to, but because they do.
Two weeks in and I'm still running.
I'm not sure that makes me a runner yet. But if it continues this way, yes, I'll be a runner again.
My faith is like that, now that I think about it...
"John, do you believe in Jesus?"
"Yes I do." Not just that I believed in Him once. Not that I believe in Jesus now that you ask and I have to choose yes or no. I believe in Jesus everyday of my life. I'm a believer. Some days my faith is stronger than other days. I'm working my way to having deeper faith. I'm not there yet. But everyday I'm-a-believin'. It's not fantastic but, hey, I'm still believing.
Two weeks in and I'm still running.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
I Hate Running!
I hate running.
More specifically I hate running just for the sake of running. The fact is I will gladly run for hours at a time playing floor hockey or soccer because I love those sports. I enjoy the challenge of chasing down someone on the field of play, winning a race to the ball or outrunning someone on the way to the goal. Sadly, I don't play these sports much any more. But I've started running. And I hate it. Running every day (or every other day, at first). Running regularly for 30 full minutes. Hoping to stretch that into 40 or 60 minutes. Just running. No ball, no teammates, no goal, no rules of the game, no race to a finish line, no reason it seems, just running. Well, there actually is a reason why I am now regularly running (for what seems like no good reason). I want to be a runner. It so happens that being a runner requires me to be running.
When I was young I was always a runner. When I went somewhere outside and I was not going with someone or carrying anything, I ran. The campus of the private high school where I lived most of my teen years was a conglommeration of classroom buildings, dorms, a cafeteria, rink, gym, chapel, student center, staff residences, bus barns and some other vacant buildings. I ran from one to the other. When anyone proposed we play a game in the gym or shoot baskets outside or kick a ball in the field, I gladly joined in and I ran my little legs off. I ran for miles most days in all of these activities and loved it. I was a frequent, maybe even a constant, runner. But I hated running even back then. I never went out to the track or anywhere else and just ran for the sake of running. I hated running and still do.
But, alas, I am no longer a runner. I try running from one building to the next when I am not with someone or carrying anything and it feels awkward. My heart and lungs and legs and back and feet are so out of shape. I want to be a runner again. And so I am running. Hating every minute of it, but running.
Don't feel sorry for me or try to stop me. Don't give me any advice or compliments. Don't invite me to run with you or register for a race of some kind. I just want to be a runner again and I will be. And I understand that to really be a runner at my age means that I will need to regularly, even religiously, be running. Day after day, running. Logging my minutes, counting the miles, measuring my waist, watching my weight, warming up and cooling down, running, running, and more running.
I hate running.
"Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us" / Hebrews 12:1
More specifically I hate running just for the sake of running. The fact is I will gladly run for hours at a time playing floor hockey or soccer because I love those sports. I enjoy the challenge of chasing down someone on the field of play, winning a race to the ball or outrunning someone on the way to the goal. Sadly, I don't play these sports much any more. But I've started running. And I hate it. Running every day (or every other day, at first). Running regularly for 30 full minutes. Hoping to stretch that into 40 or 60 minutes. Just running. No ball, no teammates, no goal, no rules of the game, no race to a finish line, no reason it seems, just running. Well, there actually is a reason why I am now regularly running (for what seems like no good reason). I want to be a runner. It so happens that being a runner requires me to be running.
When I was young I was always a runner. When I went somewhere outside and I was not going with someone or carrying anything, I ran. The campus of the private high school where I lived most of my teen years was a conglommeration of classroom buildings, dorms, a cafeteria, rink, gym, chapel, student center, staff residences, bus barns and some other vacant buildings. I ran from one to the other. When anyone proposed we play a game in the gym or shoot baskets outside or kick a ball in the field, I gladly joined in and I ran my little legs off. I ran for miles most days in all of these activities and loved it. I was a frequent, maybe even a constant, runner. But I hated running even back then. I never went out to the track or anywhere else and just ran for the sake of running. I hated running and still do.
But, alas, I am no longer a runner. I try running from one building to the next when I am not with someone or carrying anything and it feels awkward. My heart and lungs and legs and back and feet are so out of shape. I want to be a runner again. And so I am running. Hating every minute of it, but running.
Don't feel sorry for me or try to stop me. Don't give me any advice or compliments. Don't invite me to run with you or register for a race of some kind. I just want to be a runner again and I will be. And I understand that to really be a runner at my age means that I will need to regularly, even religiously, be running. Day after day, running. Logging my minutes, counting the miles, measuring my waist, watching my weight, warming up and cooling down, running, running, and more running.
I hate running.
"Let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us" / Hebrews 12:1
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Ponderfill Begins
What are some meanings for ponder... think, reflect, meditate, mull over, consider, dwell on, ruminate. The list could go on and on. Even longer a list is upon what one might ponder. That I can narrow down for the purpose of this ongoing blog. Let's ponder on those things that fill our lives with meaning. Okay that might be a long list, too. So let me just lay it out there. I believe that the words of scripture (the Bible) are capable of providing meaning to life. Not everyone believes the Bible (and believe is the operative word). I could spend time and space blogging what is intended to be evidence that this is true. Someone is probably doing that, perhaps even doing it well. Nevertheless, I seek not to convince anyone that the Bible is true by overwhelming proof and indisputable evidence. My own faith, deep as I like to think it to be, did not come about that way. I have spent over 50 years wrestling with bits and pieces of scripture which sometimes challenge, sometimes comfort, sometimes confuse and sometimes infuriate me. Reflecting back (dare I say pondering) over all of it I have to say that this has done everything to help me come to grips with the realities of life and, I must say, fill my life with meaning. Am I always at peace? No. Am I convinced of everything I have come to believe? No. Do I find huge gaps in my understanding and even conviction about statements in the Bible? Most certainly! But the benefit of asking, answering and sometimes abandoning my many questions about life as addressed in scripture has become to me most Ponderfill.
Check back in on a regular basis and you will find me blogging about realities that scripture addresses. Does the ancient Word of God have anything relevant for me amidst my texting on a cell phone, shoveling snow from my sidewalk and trying to do right by wonderful family? Chances are others will ask questions that are for more interesting than mine. I look forward to that as well. Please join me often right here for an experience that I hope we will always find Ponderfill! (How cheesy is that?!)
I suppose I should have a verse of scripture for this. How about...
Hebrews 4:12 (NRSV) / Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides the soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Check back in on a regular basis and you will find me blogging about realities that scripture addresses. Does the ancient Word of God have anything relevant for me amidst my texting on a cell phone, shoveling snow from my sidewalk and trying to do right by wonderful family? Chances are others will ask questions that are for more interesting than mine. I look forward to that as well. Please join me often right here for an experience that I hope we will always find Ponderfill! (How cheesy is that?!)
I suppose I should have a verse of scripture for this. How about...
Hebrews 4:12 (NRSV) / Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides the soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
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