Before I start, I may as well say my new laptop is driving me crazy. It seems to think I want to open new tabs or select all text or browse or whatever – as if I’ve hit Ctrl or Alt before hitting a letter. This makes typing emails or anything of substance full of interruptions, and the way my mind works I can ill afford such distractions. Oh, well.

I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted. I was getting tired of it because it seemed like I had nothing to say and as I had decided on yet another marathon for the same cause, talking about training seemed a bit pointless. But even if I’m not thinking about training I have things on my mind, so why not share them? Well, it’s not as though I’m forcing anyone to read.

I mention the new year because it’s February. I had skipped resolutions and even skipped thinking about the past and the future on my birthday. But it has become more and more apparent to me that I need to be in better shape. I have discovered that, surprisingly, you don’t have to be in excellent shape to complete a marathon. I’m in better shape as a result of the training, but not good shape.

In case I wasn’t sure, today I calculated my BMI. It was depressing. I would like to reduce my BMI and my weight, since I’ve given up being able to increase my height (sigh). It’s too bad, though, that the diet plans that are so heavily advertised are not as good as they seem – I would so love to lose weight and get in shape without actually changing what I eat or do. My preferred method would be a Star Trek transporter where they could just leave some molecules behind. But that could lead to all kinds of mishaps.

Okay, I could be completely off-base here, but I’ve been thinking about this for a while what with suicide bombers claiming to be martyrs for their cause. It seems to me that the word, with a root that means witness, has more appropriately applied to those who, throughout history, have been put to death or caused to suffer while refusing to renounce or change their beliefs. That is, they suffered because of what they believed, but they didn’t make others suffer (except, perhaps those who loved them).

I’m not saying that martyrdom is a good thing in itself, but it seems that in order to claim the status of martyr you have to choose to suffer or die instead of changing what you think. You don’t have to kill or cause suffering because others will not change what they think. Disagreement is a fact of life, and if you want to die for what you believe, that can be courageous. If you want to kill for what you believe, that’s just wrong. I’m not addressing killings in self- or other- defense, but that justification is almost as misused as martyrdom.

In short, if you die because you are protesting and the authorities kill you (such as Neda in Iran) or because you are living a faith that someone else does not want you to follow, you are a martyr. If you kill because you disagree with the authorities or because others are not following your faith, you are a murderer.

When the closest thing you have to a significant other is your dog, life can present more existential issues than you might be willing to handle. I mean, if you have no spouse/soulmate to share your innermost thoughts and dreams with, no children to pass on your philosophies and heirlooms to, what’s the point? I mean, I can share things with Ginger, but she’s more likely to appreciate ‘want a treat’ than ‘isn’t that sunset beautiful?’ 

I’m a big fan of the Westminster shorter catechism’s first question and answer, but sometimes the concept of my chief end being to glorify God and enjoy Him forever is a bit abstract for planning out life. I want my life to glorify God, I want to enjoy Him, but what does that really look like in this day and age?

This is what my frame of mind has been through June, which is probably why I didn’t do a report on the San Diego marathon (I finished) or blog about anything else. Some of the things I think I’d like to do seem kind of pointless – many crafts I might enjoy I’m not really good at, and others I just think, well, some day the finished product will either wind up in a yard sale or a landfill. Is it enough to create beauty for the sake of beauty, or is something more permanent desirable? And is passing things on to those around me sufficient even if they are not my children? Some times I just don’t know.

However, I am trying to set myself some challenges for the near (and middle) future. Some are of my choosing, some are not.

I want to change my shape. I’d say get in shape, but hust because my shape most closely resembles the Stay-Puff’d Marshmallow man does not mean it is not a shape. It is difficult to face down over 40 years of bad physical habits – I’d much rather stuff my face and watch mindless television than eat healthy and get out and move. But I will have to do that – particularly because I have signed up for the Goofy Challenge – which means that this coming January I will run a half-marathon on a Saturday and a full marathon the very next day (at least, that’s the plan).

My other challenge is helping to co-lead an evening Bible study and participating on the Adult Education committee at church. This will be good to help with mental and spiritual stimulation. I am looking forward to it – I am considering studying the Sermon on the Mount with the Bible study. The toughest part might be choosing among the many good study aids available.

I’ll need a creative outlet, too – I just need to stop worrying about what happens when I’m gone and create for the sake of creating. I am hoping to get some good photographs during my upcoming trip to the UK (I can hardly wait!!)

Also, in the next several months my father will probably come to live with me. This will change some of how I’ve been living, and I will probably have to find a new place to live. Not that my current place is bad, but I’d like to find someplace where my dad wouldn’t have to take the stairs that much and could walk to interesting places in the neighborhood. That will be a challenge in today’s economy.

So, even though I had some down moments, I’ve actually got some good, challenging things to look forward to this year. I may actually have to learn to manage my time!

This is not going to be a coherent essay – the title really reflects two completely different trains of thought that have stopped at my mind’s station.

Yesterday was a good day to run – a bit windy, but the sun seemed to make up for that. So it would be great to mention that I ahd a great run and am well on the way to being ready for San Diego. Sadly, I have  been having stomach issues lately. I can’t figure out what is going on. I’ll skip the details for the squeamish, but I was unable to sleep well Friday night, and it seemed wiser to skip the run (a wisdom confirmed by the fact that even when I walked later, every step bothered my tummy).

So, I’m kind of discouraged but I will carry on. Since I have made this commitment, I will do my best to fulfill it.

On the other track, I was listening to some mini-biographies of Christians throughout the ages. One session was on slaves in America and the spirituals that came from that tradition. I couldn’t help but think what a miracle it is that any slaves became Christians, considering that they had been stolen from their homes, treated brutally, and forced to labor for those that often claimed the name of Christ.

It is the same miracle I saw when reading a book by a Native American Christian.  Many who claimed to belong to Christ took land, killed many (okay, some was in defense, but still), broke almost every treaty, and then forced the children to give up their own culture to live according to the European tradition and definition of civilization. That any Native Americans called on the name of Christ is amazing.

Come to think of it, when you think about the horrible, awful, or even merely stupid things Christians have done throughout the ages, it’s a wonder that the faith has lived on. This is true both in the corporate sense and the individual sense. What a wonder that God chose us to be His messengers – we are so bad and showing His love. And yet, this is His plan and it does seem to be working despite our many failures.

I have always enjoyed birds.  I’m not completely sure how the fascination started, but I can remember sitting in the alcove window of my bedroom when I was in high school and enjoying listening to the birds. Somehow hearing them sing made things not quite as miserable as my adolescent self was prone to view them – they were like little reminder’s of God’s love.

They also reminded me of God’s incredible creativity. There are so many different kinds of birds – huge birds and wee birds, tall birds and short birds, colorful birds and drab birds, soaring birds and flightless birds. I mean, if I had created the world, I don’t know if I would have come up with the concept of birds, let alone this great variety (to say nothing of the fact that people would all look like stick figures).

Even in college, taking a course on perception allowed me to see the wonder that we could hear bird sounds as songs – as music. Not just communications, although they are that, but the sounds are also something we can appreciate just for melody.

Yesterday, however, the group was training on the capital crescent trail. We had to go one way through a somewhat muddy area and then return to the more paved, civilized path. As the slight drizzle came to an end, the birds began singing more and more. While beautiful, this made it difficult to hear my interval watch beep to let me know when I could stop running (or when I had to start).  And I kept thinking certain tweets were beeps only to discover that I had still more time to run (yuck!).

So I was thinking about those darn birds. And then I realized how often it is we can turn God’s blessings into curses and distractions. Whether we are annoyed because a good thing is in our way, or we pay more attention to the blessing than the blesser, we are all too apt to twist the blessing.

But the wonder of that is how often God turns curses into blessings. Ravens were considered unclean animals, and yet God used them to feed Elijah in the desert. And some of the worst times in my life God has used to bring me closer to Him. So I have yet another thing to thank God for with respect to birds – to remind me that God provides so many good things.

I have now, sadly, discovered that there are worse things than training for a marathon. And, yes, even what I’m about to talk about is nothing compared to the tragedies that people experience around the world – nothing that I have gone through can even begin to compare to poverty, warfare, or similar circumstances.

At any rate, yesterday I helped out with some yard work at the church. Some people had jobs such as rolling the fertilizer/seed spreader around the grounds. Not me – I got to dig up edges around various places and trees to hold the mulch and water in. This digging involved the hard Virginia clay – made more difficult by large rocks, intertwined roots, and the occasional random piece of wood (yes, they were bigger than normal mulch wood pieces).

As I was doing this, there was a voice in the back of my head saying that this was not the wisest course of action considering that I was supposed to do 12 miles in training the very next day. This voice was backed up by twinges and groans from various body parts – many of the same ones usually involved in running. Of course, I ignored those sensible thoughts and kept going.

It was difficult to get out of bed this morning. And even more difficult to run at training. I wound up walking after three miles (the various twinges and pangs were getting to me). I wound up completing 8 miles, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

You’d think after doing two marathons I’d realize that big events take training and training takes preparation, but sometimes we have to relearn lessons. I thought about this when I heard some guy on the radio say that he had to pay $5 million in the Madoff swindle to relearn the lesson he learned in kindergarten that if something seems to good to be true it probably isn’t. (I must admit I momentarily thought that, well, of course everyone knows that, but then I realized that the one of the things protecting me from losses in the stock market is that I long ago determined that I was so clueless about it I should avoid it altogether).

Anyway, training for the San Diego marathon started several weeks ago. Three weeks or so before this it was a four mile run, where I learned that it is much quicker and easier to get out of shape than it is to get in shape.

Two weeks ago, I was in Florida visiting my father. I was on my own to do a six-mile run. I managed to complete almost two (if you want to hear my whiny list of excuses for that, feel free to ask). One week ago, I overslept and missed the training completely. I could have done it on my own, but didn’t. I’ve been even worse on my mid-week training activities – in all those weeks I think I managed to do one quick walk for just over 2 miles.

So I was more than a little daunted by yesterday’s training – we were supposed to be doing ten miles. I mean, how do you go from 0 to 10 in 1 week? Determination and stubbornness will only take you so far. Somehow, I did manage to complete all ten miles. I even did my 2-minute run/2-minute walk ratio for 6.5 of the miles. After that I walked the rest of the way (and had to – that was the only way to get back to the car).

So, I have relearned that it is better to keep up with the training. It is better to be prepared.

Okay, I know it’s been a while since my last post. I have excuses – really. There was a really busy time at work – I put in some ten and twelve hour days.  The sad part was that it was redoing something I had already done, but then the new boss wanted it done in a different way, and by that time the deadline was much closer. Sigh. I was pretty happy with it, though, until the ultimate users said they didn’t need all that detail.

After the work, there was the devotional I was helping with for church. That could have taken less time if I had done more about it before the work crisis, but that would have gone against my procrastinating personality.

Then I drove to Florida to see my dad. That was fun, but the return trip was somewhat more hectic since it involved an all-nighter and a snowstorm (but God protected me inspite of my foolish decisions).

So now, I had decided to run another marathon – this one is in San Diego on May 31. I have discovered that even though it took me four months to get in shape for my first marathon, it took less than four weeks to get out of shape from my last marathon. I have been very lax in keeping up with the training schedule (for the same excuses I haven’t been posting here).

The challenge will be to see if I can overcome my self in the next few months. I do intend to post somewhat more regularly.

The other day I was waiting around and wanted to use up some time. After looking at various storefronts until I was sure someone would report me for suspicious behavior, I turned to the only reading material I had on hand. Unfortunately, that turned out to be the prescription information insert for my recently obtained antibiotics.

I was okay with the standard side effects – nausea, diarrhea, bad taste in mouth. I thought they were fairly typical and usually easy to cope with. But when I reached the ‘You should call your doctor as soon as possible’ side effects, I began to wonder if perhaps the cure could be almost as bad as the disease.

The insert mentioned severe mood swings and depression – not so bad as I’ve experienced those before so I could probably handle them. The one that bothered me was the potential for hallucinations.

Sure, that’s not the worst side effect to have, but as I live alone I wondered how I would be able to tell if I were hallucinating. My dog couldn’t help – she already barks at what appears to me to be invisible threats. Of course, if I saw a giant cow eating the townhouses in my neighborhood, I would hope that the remaining rational part of my brain would tell me that it wasn’t real. But what if the hallucination were more realistic? How would I be able to tell if no one could tell me?

Of course, those side effects were followed by the ‘You should call the nearest health professional yesterday’ side effects. Such as, you know, possibly fatal reactions . . .

Sorry to anyone who was dying to know how the marathon went. Between recovering from running 26.2 miles and the bitter cold that I’ve returned to, I haven’t been up to sitting down long enough to update the blog – but here I am at last.

Yes, I did finish – I believe the time was 7 hours 8 minutes. There were some seconds after that, but I’m rounding down. It was definitely less lonely in Disney than in Anchorage – there were around 20,000 runners, so there were always people around me. Not all of them finished before I did, and I liked a shirt I saw: Dead last finish > Did not finish > Did not start. That’s a good attitude to have in this kind of circumstance.

At the beginning of the race, there were people starting that were obviously on high doses of caffeine, or naturally high on somehting, as they had way too much energy and perkiness for 5 in the morning. Of course, I think Disney does hire based on perkiness, so maybe it’s natural selection.

One thought I had at first – guys are kind of like very young children. The kids at the age where they think if they can’t see you, you can’t see them. I say that because a significant number of men relieved themselves by the side of the race course apparently thinking that because they had their back turned to the racers it was sufficiently private to perform this function. I wanted to beg them to get behind a bush, but I decided to preserve my energy.

I heard the winner finished the course at 2 hours, 23 minutes. I don’t think he can match the endurance of those of us out in the sun for way more hours. I think I wasn’t even halfway by the time he finished. Oh, well. I had more fun – I bet he didn’t stop to get his picture taken with Mickey (and Capt. Jack Sparrow, although I was quite disappointed that Will Turner wasn’t there).

We started going through Epcot, then the Magic Kingdom (through Cinderella’s castle). By that time, the park was starting to open, so Disney had employees who were responsible for making sure the tourists didn’t cross the marathon course at the wrong time (and maybe to make sure none of the runners tried to sneak in a ride!).

From Magic Kingdom it was down a fairly barren expanse to Animal Kingdom. At least Sharpie, one of the sponsors, had some election-size lawn signs scattered around this passage. They had jokes and trivia that helped distract us from what we were doing. There was one sign that said “Down with Gravity” – it was the only sign that had succumbed to gravity.

At the entrance to Animal Kingdom, a number of employees were standing with various animals – it was neat to see the goats, owls, hawks, snakes, and donkeys. Sadly, they would not let me borrow the donkey.

After Animal Kingdom, there was another dull expanse and this time there were no signs. This was where Coach Rich was, and he helped me deal with the fact that my legs were wanting to quit (plus he gave me goldfish). A bit later, I came across Coach Colin. Colin ran with me to the finish and really helped me keep it up. I also saw Keri and Martin cheering (oh, and at various places saw Bobbi and Monique and some others from the team – that was so encouraging).

When we got to Hollywood Studios, Coach Jim joined us for a little while before going back to help others behind me. In this park, the theme from Chariots of Fire played – that song always makes me feel I should run in slow motion, but there was no beach around (plus, I think if I had run any slower I would have been in reverse).

Then it was on to Epcot and the finish. Colin had to leave me before the actual finish line, but because of all the help from the coaches, I was able to run across the finish line (okay, it wasn’t exactly a sprint, but it wasn’t walking!). I now have a new personal record.

As for what’s next, I don’t know – I have been asked if I want to do a 100-mile bike ride. I am considering it – I’d need a bike, but I have so much padding in my rear that it couldn’t hurt too much, right?