Title not to be confused with the ever famous blow off college course titled Walk, Jog, Run (especially when taken by cross or track athletes, not pointing fingers or anything, but really, really....)
"Run when you can, walk when you have to, crawl if you must." - Dean Karnazes
If you are like me, you have no idea who Dean K is...guess it doesn't matter b/c he has a kick butt quote that pretty much sums up the attitude of any endurance athlete who has the inner drive to make it across the finish line (whether tangible or just one set in one's own mind).
And it's pretty much how I feel about life at this point. Might as well 'go all out...beyond any doubt. I want my life to shout that God is alive in me' sorry got carried away with UW lyrics...those songs, man they apply to all life situations. we are equipping those kids for life, not just sports camp by golly!
let's talk about my next project...after the completion of intramural b-ball season of course.
it's called, how many times in ones life can a person coerce the muscle fibers to act more type 1 or type 2, this time leaning more toward the type 1 of course for my tri career... love it, let's see if all those peer reviewed articles are correct or not, wahahaha.
now let's discuss how i just had the realization that i never want to be a long distance coach, not head coach anyway b/c then I'd have to deal with all that jazz of making up killer workouts to specifically target certain systems like the Krebs cycle, electron transport chain, mitochondria ahhh!!! make it stop! Let's stick to pole-vault: hold this, run as fast as you can, get your plant high and don't let your arms bend, flip upside down as fast as you can, and the rest is cake...oh yeah and don't forget to throw the pole back so you don't miss on account of that silly mistake.
how much more simple can it get? *she says sarcastically*
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Promiscuous
What does it say about a girl when her friend calls her each time this song is played on the radio? Well, it could say a lot of things, but mostly it says there is a very good memory attached to that particular song and we won't go into the details. Oooo I love leaving it hanging in suspense. If one is not familiar with the song, feel free to ask for a play by play, but the title pretty much says it all.
Then I got to thinking how I am definitely the antonym, not the synonym to promiscuous by terms of how the world defines it. Which then led me to compare and contrast quickly in my mind how the Lord views this word, promiscuous. Would Christ share that assumption? I think, in fact, I am probably very guilty of promiscuity. After reviewing the files and finding the example that: If a man even looks at a woman lustfully, then he has committed adultry in God's eyes. Welp, there you have it, my heart is a wayward one and my mind even more difficult to direct on the right path at times. In light of this first I ask God, Jesus Christ to forgive me once again and again, and again. Then, I resolve and remind myself of how important, critical, necessary prayer is...at all times.
Lastly, I accept the reminder of the pop tune Promiscuous as a theme song for great dancing and laughs. and if it is late at night, as it is now, then I will let me mind think on the deeper things, and try to make sense of it all...and dwell on how Good our God is for giving me a way out, for forgiving me for a wayward heart, for loving me despite my shortcomings, for being strong where and when I am weak...O gosh, He's sooo good! (double fist shake and pump b/c I can't express it all any other way)
Then I got to thinking how I am definitely the antonym, not the synonym to promiscuous by terms of how the world defines it. Which then led me to compare and contrast quickly in my mind how the Lord views this word, promiscuous. Would Christ share that assumption? I think, in fact, I am probably very guilty of promiscuity. After reviewing the files and finding the example that: If a man even looks at a woman lustfully, then he has committed adultry in God's eyes. Welp, there you have it, my heart is a wayward one and my mind even more difficult to direct on the right path at times. In light of this first I ask God, Jesus Christ to forgive me once again and again, and again. Then, I resolve and remind myself of how important, critical, necessary prayer is...at all times.
Lastly, I accept the reminder of the pop tune Promiscuous as a theme song for great dancing and laughs. and if it is late at night, as it is now, then I will let me mind think on the deeper things, and try to make sense of it all...and dwell on how Good our God is for giving me a way out, for forgiving me for a wayward heart, for loving me despite my shortcomings, for being strong where and when I am weak...O gosh, He's sooo good! (double fist shake and pump b/c I can't express it all any other way)
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Dear Lord,
This is to you. I sit here in a supposedly sunny south where I have yet to feel the humid heat they so oft brag about. God I feel like I'm healing. I recognize this as yesterday we went to workout...first lifting with weights more than 10 lbs in 8 weeks time. First shooting hoops in more than 28 weeks plus. First time in a long time since I've felt the feeling that your leg won't hold you up if you try to jump on it anymore. God, what a good feeling, to know you reached total fatigue. Then, as you know better than I, the muscles are inflammed, swollen, they will grow sore hour by hour. The little guys will come in to try and clean up the damage. The phages will clean up the garbage, new cross bridges will be built, stronger than before, never to be the same.
Is that how it is with all things. I reached a point of fatigue for sure probably Sunday. Traveling from one city to another by car, emotions sitting in the backseat, ripped apart from my chest b/c I didn't want to house such brokenness anymore. Lord, you speaking to my downtrodden heart, telling me it will heal once again. YOu will be the one to heal it. The next day jumping in a plane at the buttcrack of dawn, take that back, it didn't crack through until half way to the final destination. Too physically tired to even acknowledge the emotions riding along in my backpack. It was all erased though with the meeting of super friends for that is where you are. God I thank you for the way you provide people, places, situations where I can see clearly. In this case clearly into just how blessed I am to have loved and be loved in such a short period of time. Blessed immensely in comparison to all the crap out there and more devestating scenarios that happen every minute of every day.
When two or more are gathered in your name, you are here/there/everywhere. Lord if we gather in spirit, by phone are you there a well? Just a thought...
Anyway, sharing in the lifes, hearing of your goodness, witnessing your love being poured out on others to strengthen and encourage them in different cities, different places of work, school, seasons of the soul you might say. Bringing to light the beauty of your works in individuals. Praying and talking with your beloveds. Lord, that is my cleaning. That is where you are helping my heart and soul carry out the injured parts, make ready for the rebuilding phase. I think now, as I sit here, as Flash and I have some good talks, as I get to wake up to nothing but the rooster's crow (seriously, it happened today and I thank you God for the smile it put in my heart.) I am being rebuilt. My physical body, not so much, the legs feel yesterdays fun and the pending doom of immense and intense DOMS; yet, maybe as my body heals, so the heart will mend as well, huh God.? Yeah, I trust you with it. You have yet to leave me out to dry. As sure as I am that my body will repair, I am even more sure that my inner being will be strengthened as you have your way. My weaknesses brought to light all the more so that you will be glorified as your power works in and through me.
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
Thank you Lord Jesus. Praise you my God and King.
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
53:5...and by His wounds we are healed.
King Jesus, In your prescious name...by your blood...
This is to you. I sit here in a supposedly sunny south where I have yet to feel the humid heat they so oft brag about. God I feel like I'm healing. I recognize this as yesterday we went to workout...first lifting with weights more than 10 lbs in 8 weeks time. First shooting hoops in more than 28 weeks plus. First time in a long time since I've felt the feeling that your leg won't hold you up if you try to jump on it anymore. God, what a good feeling, to know you reached total fatigue. Then, as you know better than I, the muscles are inflammed, swollen, they will grow sore hour by hour. The little guys will come in to try and clean up the damage. The phages will clean up the garbage, new cross bridges will be built, stronger than before, never to be the same.
Is that how it is with all things. I reached a point of fatigue for sure probably Sunday. Traveling from one city to another by car, emotions sitting in the backseat, ripped apart from my chest b/c I didn't want to house such brokenness anymore. Lord, you speaking to my downtrodden heart, telling me it will heal once again. YOu will be the one to heal it. The next day jumping in a plane at the buttcrack of dawn, take that back, it didn't crack through until half way to the final destination. Too physically tired to even acknowledge the emotions riding along in my backpack. It was all erased though with the meeting of super friends for that is where you are. God I thank you for the way you provide people, places, situations where I can see clearly. In this case clearly into just how blessed I am to have loved and be loved in such a short period of time. Blessed immensely in comparison to all the crap out there and more devestating scenarios that happen every minute of every day.
When two or more are gathered in your name, you are here/there/everywhere. Lord if we gather in spirit, by phone are you there a well? Just a thought...
Anyway, sharing in the lifes, hearing of your goodness, witnessing your love being poured out on others to strengthen and encourage them in different cities, different places of work, school, seasons of the soul you might say. Bringing to light the beauty of your works in individuals. Praying and talking with your beloveds. Lord, that is my cleaning. That is where you are helping my heart and soul carry out the injured parts, make ready for the rebuilding phase. I think now, as I sit here, as Flash and I have some good talks, as I get to wake up to nothing but the rooster's crow (seriously, it happened today and I thank you God for the smile it put in my heart.) I am being rebuilt. My physical body, not so much, the legs feel yesterdays fun and the pending doom of immense and intense DOMS; yet, maybe as my body heals, so the heart will mend as well, huh God.? Yeah, I trust you with it. You have yet to leave me out to dry. As sure as I am that my body will repair, I am even more sure that my inner being will be strengthened as you have your way. My weaknesses brought to light all the more so that you will be glorified as your power works in and through me.
But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
Thank you Lord Jesus. Praise you my God and King.
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
53:5...and by His wounds we are healed.
King Jesus, In your prescious name...by your blood...
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Marriage
He told me last year he lost his wife of 64 years. He said if he had a heart attack right now it would be okay with him. We shouldn't try to bring him back. It makes sense; can't see why he would want it any other way. He's talking about his daughter. he is so proud of her; this is the third time this week he's told about her professional career. Another question is asked; doesn't matter, he can't hear a thing.
To Know and Be Known
She sits holding his hand, knowing he escaped death. He is different since the stroke; yet, he's the same. He can understand us perfectly, but the words to express are not quite there. His personality, independence, fast-paced ways are still present; there is no hiding it.
'Will we make it to the golden anniversary?' she thinks.
To know him so well...she gets frustrated at all the ways things will be different, unsafe. He's the same; he won't listen.
Their hands are apart.
He's guarded; he leans back as they talk about how unsafe he is, like he's not right there.
She knows him, the tension is back, the tone in his limited words tell of his immense frustration, unsettled feelings. She remembers their first date, first time they held hands, first born, first time he left in anger...he came back. He's distant now, wrapped up in his basement den. When did it change? 'It was gradual,' she muses. That's what they say. How time flies. The silver anniversary was a good one. Something about his strong hands has always brought her comfort. he will get better; he's too stubborn not to.
We will hold hands again; our next anniversary is 43 years. Forty-three years is a long time. It's no 64, but then again neither are we.
They know, it's visible to the rest of the room.
She flashes a tight half smile to her husband and quickly diverts her eyes. The tears start flowing when her granddaughter gives her a tight hug from behind. She is a hard worker they say. She does all her homework in between sessions. She has made great gains; this makes the tears come harder. Not a dry heart in the room. Plans are discussed, decisions made...not really. More time, keep working. She gets that tight half smile again; no one can say for sure, but the whole smile should emerge again one day. Time. He will take her home only when she can go to stay, no day pass, no visit. His words are short, firm, heavy. Next week. Their eyes meet, they know.
To Know and Be Known
She sits holding his hand, knowing he escaped death. He is different since the stroke; yet, he's the same. He can understand us perfectly, but the words to express are not quite there. His personality, independence, fast-paced ways are still present; there is no hiding it.
'Will we make it to the golden anniversary?' she thinks.
To know him so well...she gets frustrated at all the ways things will be different, unsafe. He's the same; he won't listen.
Their hands are apart.
He's guarded; he leans back as they talk about how unsafe he is, like he's not right there.
She knows him, the tension is back, the tone in his limited words tell of his immense frustration, unsettled feelings. She remembers their first date, first time they held hands, first born, first time he left in anger...he came back. He's distant now, wrapped up in his basement den. When did it change? 'It was gradual,' she muses. That's what they say. How time flies. The silver anniversary was a good one. Something about his strong hands has always brought her comfort. he will get better; he's too stubborn not to.
We will hold hands again; our next anniversary is 43 years. Forty-three years is a long time. It's no 64, but then again neither are we.
They know, it's visible to the rest of the room.
She flashes a tight half smile to her husband and quickly diverts her eyes. The tears start flowing when her granddaughter gives her a tight hug from behind. She is a hard worker they say. She does all her homework in between sessions. She has made great gains; this makes the tears come harder. Not a dry heart in the room. Plans are discussed, decisions made...not really. More time, keep working. She gets that tight half smile again; no one can say for sure, but the whole smile should emerge again one day. Time. He will take her home only when she can go to stay, no day pass, no visit. His words are short, firm, heavy. Next week. Their eyes meet, they know.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Time Flies
Wow...December 4th...Where does time go? Lots to contemplate on this chilly (less than 20 degrees w/ wind chill factored in) winter evening.
Contemplation #1:
Living in the mid-west I have recently had my eyes opened to this less than hidden secret. I will share this with you dear world with the understanding that it go no further than your computer screen; we are never to talk of this again. Well, not never, but the suspense is killing you isn't it?!? Here you go. A woman's social status is partly determined by the number of chitlins she hath birthed. Oh yes, true statement. Since I've been out in the "real world" recently, the subject of babies, kids, grandbabies has come up a lot. I find myself asking about others kids and family as a means of generating conversation out of thin air with patients while they work or take a rest break, which happens very often for some of our more debilitated elderly population. It is interesting; it is a point to hold in high regard. I mean, I couldn't do it right now, those things take time, energy, your sleep, etc, etc. Moms are to be honored, revered even if they are of the kind that raise their children up even when the little monsters are less than tolerable (I speak of myself as a child; I've heard stories) and in high gear 24/7. It is just interesting to be in the age bracket now where I'm "expected" to have a "pregnant uterus" (class joke) sometime soon. I leave it at that and say thank you to all those who do not force the midwest tradition down my throat or even often hint at the same. I thank you mother for enduring the years of my stubborness, well, probably still got some of that, but you did earn the revered title "Mama". I might even have to start calling you that:) As long as it's not prefaced with "Big" huh?:) hehehe.
Contemplation 2:
Country music rocks! It all started on the drive back from Thanksgiving break...and it hasn't stopped. I take that back, it all started back in the younger years riding around with Dad in the truck, "helping him work" in the shed, and on the country roads of yesteryear; it's always a welcome companion in the journey of life. I just find it soothing as I sit here and cheers from Margaritaville drift in and out with the twang of guitars and sweet southern accents. Ahhh...music to my ears, literally.
Contemplation 3:
Be content. Do not plan the future selfishly. - James, paraphrase. Makes me think everytime I read it, everytime God chooses to present it me on a new day as I sit unaware of how my mind needs to be redirected. Or maybe I am aware, just unwilling, or unable to change it myself. Either way, as a friend, JDizzle himself, shared with the congregation yesterday night, live each day in His will. How can i attempt to plan the future, when the future is left up to His leading? Impossible. How can I say in a year I will be here or I want to do that, when I really want to do whatever He wants? No Way Jose! Once again i resolve to surrender, to crawl up on the altar, a living sacrifice. I'm certain to inch my way off slowly, one wandering thought at a time, but I repent. I submit to the fact that I will do my best and rely on Him for the most of it. His power is made perfect in my weakness (good verse, can't tell you the location). I resolve to plan my future by the mantra of "whatever/wherever/however you want God". I give you permission to throw this back at me whenever you hear me talk of selfish ideas that benefit no one but myself. i.e. completing a 70.3 Ironman triathlon. Sure, i can do triathlons, I can train and enjoy the abilities God has gifted me with, but that shall not be my sole focus, my thoughts shall not revolve around those goals. No, my first and foremost is to help others, to venture to the places where i am most able to serve. If God chooses to use me to serve triathletes, you better believe I will be in there with em, but if God chooses to send me to the children of Managua, you better believe I will be in those slums with em.
That's enough contemplating for one night;)
until next time, stay warm
Contemplation #1:
Living in the mid-west I have recently had my eyes opened to this less than hidden secret. I will share this with you dear world with the understanding that it go no further than your computer screen; we are never to talk of this again. Well, not never, but the suspense is killing you isn't it?!? Here you go. A woman's social status is partly determined by the number of chitlins she hath birthed. Oh yes, true statement. Since I've been out in the "real world" recently, the subject of babies, kids, grandbabies has come up a lot. I find myself asking about others kids and family as a means of generating conversation out of thin air with patients while they work or take a rest break, which happens very often for some of our more debilitated elderly population. It is interesting; it is a point to hold in high regard. I mean, I couldn't do it right now, those things take time, energy, your sleep, etc, etc. Moms are to be honored, revered even if they are of the kind that raise their children up even when the little monsters are less than tolerable (I speak of myself as a child; I've heard stories) and in high gear 24/7. It is just interesting to be in the age bracket now where I'm "expected" to have a "pregnant uterus" (class joke) sometime soon. I leave it at that and say thank you to all those who do not force the midwest tradition down my throat or even often hint at the same. I thank you mother for enduring the years of my stubborness, well, probably still got some of that, but you did earn the revered title "Mama". I might even have to start calling you that:) As long as it's not prefaced with "Big" huh?:) hehehe.
Contemplation 2:
Country music rocks! It all started on the drive back from Thanksgiving break...and it hasn't stopped. I take that back, it all started back in the younger years riding around with Dad in the truck, "helping him work" in the shed, and on the country roads of yesteryear; it's always a welcome companion in the journey of life. I just find it soothing as I sit here and cheers from Margaritaville drift in and out with the twang of guitars and sweet southern accents. Ahhh...music to my ears, literally.
Contemplation 3:
Be content. Do not plan the future selfishly. - James, paraphrase. Makes me think everytime I read it, everytime God chooses to present it me on a new day as I sit unaware of how my mind needs to be redirected. Or maybe I am aware, just unwilling, or unable to change it myself. Either way, as a friend, JDizzle himself, shared with the congregation yesterday night, live each day in His will. How can i attempt to plan the future, when the future is left up to His leading? Impossible. How can I say in a year I will be here or I want to do that, when I really want to do whatever He wants? No Way Jose! Once again i resolve to surrender, to crawl up on the altar, a living sacrifice. I'm certain to inch my way off slowly, one wandering thought at a time, but I repent. I submit to the fact that I will do my best and rely on Him for the most of it. His power is made perfect in my weakness (good verse, can't tell you the location). I resolve to plan my future by the mantra of "whatever/wherever/however you want God". I give you permission to throw this back at me whenever you hear me talk of selfish ideas that benefit no one but myself. i.e. completing a 70.3 Ironman triathlon. Sure, i can do triathlons, I can train and enjoy the abilities God has gifted me with, but that shall not be my sole focus, my thoughts shall not revolve around those goals. No, my first and foremost is to help others, to venture to the places where i am most able to serve. If God chooses to use me to serve triathletes, you better believe I will be in there with em, but if God chooses to send me to the children of Managua, you better believe I will be in those slums with em.
That's enough contemplating for one night;)
until next time, stay warm
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