Day 82 - Running Free

To the left is an icon making its way around Pinterest and other corners of the Internet that is an excellent tie in for what I want to write about today, a non-running rest day. It strikes a bit of a chord because running is something I regularly take for granted. Sometimes I go well beyond taking it for granted and complain about having to do it. I don't expect I'll ever arrive in a place where I gleefully leap out the door every day to head out for a run, but I'd like to practice a bit more intentional gratitude for being able to run. It is a gift to be able to run whenever and wherever I want.

A gift that is not extended to the estimated 27 million men, women and children who are held in slavery around the world today.

27 million. Let that sink in. Now, let's expand on that outrageous number. 27 million in miles is the equivalent of 192,034 Ironmans; 270,000 100-mile ultras; 384,068 Ironman 70.3s; 540,000 50-mile ultras; 1,030,534 marathons; 2,061,068 half marathons; 2,700,000 10-milers; and 8,709,677 5ks. (This is a running blog, after all.)


IJM - Introduction Video from International Justice Mission on Vimeo.
I could give you piles of data and numbers until your brain explodes, but isn't it enough to know that even one person is enslaved? Isn't it enough to know that somewhere a girl is being sold? Or that a little boy has never known a life apart from enslavement in a brick kiln? Or that an innocent man has been in jail for a majority of this life because of a corrupt system?

The thought of that one girl, one boy, and one man makes me want to cry out for justice. Multiply it by 27 million and you have one loud cry. But my voice alone would be small, so I'm joining the voice of 27,000 others. Will you be one of them?

International Justice Mission is inviting us to do so, calling on 27,000 Americans to urge President Obama to end slavery. They need 5,000 more signatures to reach the goal. That's all it takes from you -- a signature -- to advance the movement to end slavery. Maybe you'll be compelled to do more, too; but won't you at least sign? Go here to do so, or click the banner over in the sidebar.

Day 76 - The Day Running Broke Me

Distance and pace are insignificant here, just know that I didn't meet my goal for today. But something important did happen.

Today was a beautiful day in Baltimore, and I was excited to run. I headed out toward the airport, where there is a paved trail that circles the airport grounds. It's about 12 miles around, so I planned to run the full circle and then do an out-and-back on a portion of it to get in my full miles. I was excited, too, because I'd be running with GU for the first time.

Other than a few sore muscles from yesterday's Pilates class, I started off feeling good about running. Still, I was struggling to keep target pace. In fact, I was struggling to stay in the 9:15-9:30 range, which is a good 15-30 seconds slower than where I normally run for long runs. This was disheartening and compounded by some lower GI issues and some side cramping. I pressed on. Then, everything sort of fell apart.

I felt like I didn't know where I was or that I'd taken a wrong turn. I was winded. I couldn't pick up my pace. I was lonely. I didn't want to be running anymore. Eventually, the melodramatic side of my brain convinced the rational side that I was lost (on a circular trail, mind you) and that I would never make it home, or at least that the sun would set before I could make it back to my car. And I was despondent.

But only for a moment, because I soon realized how ridiculous (and wrong) it was that I was so upset about not getting in the miles I'd planned. It would be okay to be disappointed about that, because it's kind of a bummer; but I felt like a failure. Not just a failure as a runner, but a failure. That was when I knew that somewhere in the last few weeks, especially since I'd started upping my mileage, running had become something I didn't want it to be -- a priority above the rest, a god, an idol. It began to define me, and I began to derive from it a sense of self-efficacy that should only come from an identity sure in the Lord.

I sat down on a bench, regrouped and prayed, and continued on. I was still feeling directionally challenged, but I was able to pick up my speed a bit. I thought I might be able to make it the full miles I'd intended, but then I realized that the point of my miserable run's lesson was that my greatest discipline and obedience be rightly placed, not misplaced toward running. I'm not to be mastered by running, because in the end it's just another thing that I do.

So, I stopped. And tomorrow, with my priorities better placed, I will finish the mileage.

Day 56 - Trials

Today's scheduled run: cross-training

Today's completed run: 2.5 miles
Pace: 9:something (yes, I used my new Garmin, but I'm too tired to get up and read the actual pace)

I moved like a sloth this morning. I thought I might try and get four miles in, but I felt as though I was running through quicksand. Obviously, I don't know precisely what that feels like, but I can theorize. There are several contributing factors: going to bed at 2 am and waking at 8 am, not eating before leaving the house, and the emotionally exhausting trial through which I am currently walking.

Saturday morning brought with it a significant life change unrelated to running or baldness. I'm not trying to be over-dramatic or secretive by not telling you what it is; I'm trying to find a balance of sharing with you that I'm going through something really hard while not unsafely baring my soul. The point is: this is a season of trial and discomfort and growth with regard to interpersonal relationships. I am praying for great fruit to come of it.

Thankfully, in just 24 hours, I have seen some of that fruit in the form of a rallying community. I tweeted this earlier today: "We cannot walk the road of trial alone. Find someone to walk with you, or accompany someone on their journey." Even yesterday, I was blessed by two times of relaxation and conversation with two different friends. Today, as I looked into a lonely afternoon, I was prompted to reach out to exactly the right people. I was blessed by not one but two church homes - New Song in Baltimore and Grace DC in DC.

There is grieving and lamenting to be done, lessons to be learned, more mistakes to make, more grace to receive, and more fruit to bear; but this is a start. And I will take a start.