Moving Forward… Again

I love to write and I have a story to tell. We all do. Over the years that I have been maintaining this blog I have written about teaching, politics, and religion. I have included running race reports and personal experiences. It has been a place for me to include some original poetry and a place for me to share my hurts and frustrations. One area in which I have tried to be consistent is in sharing what I have learned from these experiences in the hopes that others may learn from me and find strength and encouragement if they are facing some of the same issues. I also hope that those who feel alone in their struggles might feel a little less so. I keep threatening to write a book, but I have, thus far, found a reason to stop shortly after (or before) I start.

As I start again, after a significant break in writing, I hope for three things. First, that this avenue provides a medium through which I can voice my story and that it helps me process my own situation. Second, that there will be some readers who, because of my writing, gain a better understanding of their own, or their loved ones, struggles and are better equipped to seek out the help and support they need. Finally, that there will be those who feel less alone in their pain. Isolation is the single most detrimental factor of depression and realizing that we are not alone in our suffering frees us to seek out the help and support we need.

I have to clarify that I am not a doctor, nor a psychiatrist, psychologist, nor any other kind of therapist or medical expert. I am speaking from my own experiences and one who suffers from any of these, or similar symptoms, should contact their personal physician and care team to get the treatment specific to their own needs. I am not offering any medical advice of any kind. My experiences are specific to me and my situation. What works for me may not work well for someone else and what doesn’t work for me may be exactly what someone else needs. Treatments for mental health issues are based on biology, psychology, chemistry, and statistics. Some “guess and check” is involved. If you start a treatment that doesn’t work well for you, has adverse effects, or no effect, contact your care team immediately. If you have serious thoughts of suicide or self-harm, please contact your care team or call 1-800-273-8255. Regardless of what you tell yourself in the moment, there are people who need you. There are people who love you. There are good days ahead of you. Your last good day was not your last good day.

Two things stop me from writing, maybe three, prevent me from telling my story. One; the self-thought that no one cares or would read what I have to say. Those who have seen me speak, or read my writings, probably do not realize that I have the constant thought that what I have to say is not interesting to anyone else, so why say it? Second; I’m not sure how to find and reach the right audience. I’m not really good at self promotion and (see reason one) it seems somewhat narcissistic to go about telling people who may not be interested about my story. Finally; I’m a fairly private person and telling my story in a public forum seems a lot like airing my dirty laundry in public and I, generally, prefer to deal with things on my own and in private. This is something that, again, may surprise those who know me well because I have been trying, in recent years, to be transparent and to share my experiences in order to help others work through their own.

In order to push myself forward, I have to answer these. First; all I can do is tell my story and hope that it reaches someone who needs to hear it or finds comfort/encouragement/ motivation in it. We have all heard the story of the kid throwing starfish on the beach into the sea. A passerby points out that he can’t possibly make a difference in the huge numbers of starfish on the beach. The boy picks up another and throws it into the sea. “It made a difference to that one.” He states. I’ve often recalled this story throughout my teaching career in realizing that I can only have an effect on those in my locus of control and I cannot affect anyone if I do nothing. I have to remind myself of this again and again in my new situation. Second; I’m relying on social media and word of mouth to reach those that I can reach. I may learn more about marketing as I go. I may make connections with people who are more expert in that arena and will help me to reach more, but I cannot let this stop me from sharing. Even if I only reach one, or a few, I may be the only, or the first, who touches one who then gets the help they need. Finally; if I am to be who I believe I am created to be, I must set aside my privacy and step around the doubters and the naysayers who would, inadvertently or not, be obstacles to me. In addition, this forum is a processing tool for me. If you are reading this and you need to process, I am available. I am a personal mentor (life coach) and I can work with you to make progress in whatever you need. I also know full well where my strengths lie and where they do not. If you need a doctor or a therapist, I encourage you to reach out to your personal physician. if you need a mentor, you can reach out to me here or visit my website.

Truth be told, this is a first step. You are invited to take it with me. The last couple of years have presented us all with new challenges. Yours may be bigger than mine, they may not be. It doesn’t matter. Your challenges are uniquely yours. If my experiences can help you through yours then I am glad I was able to provide you some of what you need. If we can encourage each other, all the better. We all need a reason to move forward. Find yours. Here are some of mine…

I will try to write more often. Eventually, I may turn this into a book. If you know of anyone who needs this type of support or encouragement, please forward my blog and/or my website. I can be your personal mentor/coach for career, school, life, and running. I am also a wedding officiant and can work with you or your wedding planner to plan your special day, from premarital classes to the license and post wedding support.

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First official race back!

Turning right from highway 99 onto highway 32 and heading up the hill from the valley I feel the stress and anxiety of the past week or so start slipping away as the pine trees slip past me. The trees, streams, and trails in the foothills above my old hometown of Chico are some of my favorite places to visit. Although I am not so much looking forward to tent camping (something I thought I had left permanently in my past) I am looking forward to visiting with people I haven’t seen for a while and to doing so with my son, Sean, and wife, Alessandra, for the first time.

I am also excited to be racing again. Not that I do anything close to what most people call racing. My races are more supported slow runs then they are actual races. However, Alessandra is doing her first 10k and Sean is running his first half marathon.

In April I traveled to Forest Ranch to help with the Forest Ranch 4 and to support my friend and race director, Karey. Karey puts on a great race festival! I first met Karey through some of my local running friends and immediately joined up as a Loco Ambassador and regular participant. I have made two failed attempts at the 100k distance and I ran the inaugural FR4 50k (where I earned 1st in age group, 3rd overall, and DFL all at once). Between helping to cook breakfast and helping with an aid station, I ran some of the course.

When I was lying in the hospital recovering from being hit by a train, I decided that I would run and race again. I had no idea it would take this long to get to it. My goal was to run the St. George Marathon, 1 year and 1 week after the accident. I had a backup plan to run the California International Marathon 2 months later, in December. Little did I know that the world was going to collapse. As it turned out, I was not ready for a marathon in October. St George was cancelled. Then my whole family had Covid and I wasn’t going to be ready for CIM either. That was also cancelled. St. George issued a refund and CIM gave me a deferment. So my plans for 2020 have been moved to 2021.

Loco will be my first actual race since being #trainwrecked and the half marathon distance seems like a good choice. I had gotten up to that distance last summer in my training, but then tapered off with training difficulties and Covid. Then I had an unrelated surgery and had to wait for that recovery. Finally! I’m ready to run 13.1 miles on my favorite trails. Or… maybe not.

One week prior to the race everything came to a halt because of a kidney stone. If you haven’t had one, I hope you don’t. If you have, you know what I mean. Miraculously, the stone seems to have dissolved and the pain went away. Still, in the back of my mind, I’m wondering if the pain will come back while I’m on th course. All I can do is drink a lot of water and hope and pray.

Our original plan is to camp at the start line. We drive up and see that the only available spots are along the side of the road. There is no water, no bathrooms, no fires, and no room. We drive a little further and pull into Butte Meadows Campground. I’ve stayed here before and my Sacramento Area running friends have already set up camp. There is an adjoining space and Sean and I have the tent up and air mattresses inflated in short order. Soon we are sitting around the campfire laughing and talking like it hasn’t been months since I’ve hung out with these friends.

Sleeping on the ground is just as much fun as I expected, but we wake up when the ultra runners are getting ready to leave and half sleep until it is time to make our way to the start line. It’s close enough to walk and we get there with enough time to realize that I had forgotten my full water bottles at camp. I grabbed a Loco bottle (Karey, I still owe you for that) and fill it up and head to porta-potty line. The race starts a few minutes early and I am still waiting when the go past me, Sean starting strong on the road portion of the course. The 10k is a straight out and back and Alessandra is on her way with her favorite running partner, Sasha.

I did what I had to do and started down the road after the other runners. I caught the back of the pack as the course turned from pavement to gravel to dirt and joined the 10k on the way to their turn around and aid station. I see Alessandra and Sasha there and fill up my water bottle (I’m not risking any lack of hydration). She is headed back and I continue to the turnaround. Soon I see my friend, Tony, coming back in the lead and, soon after, I see Sean in 4th place of his first ever half marathon. I reach the turn around and continue gaining on people that I had given a head start and catch up to a few running friends and run with them for a while. We leave the 10k course to take the Coyote Butt trail. This is a beautiful part of the course that is slightly less maintained and runs along the edge of the canyon. I’m still feeling pretty good so I keep up my pace on this gradual descent.

It feels like I’m done when I reach the start/finish line, but I’m not. I fill up my water bottle. I see Sean (who ended up in 5th with a sub 2 hour half marathon… not bad for his first one and longest ever) and Alessandra resting with Sasha after completing her longest run ever. We think it might be a good idea to take Sasha for my last 2 miles, but it takes her all of 100 yards to decide she wants nothing of it and I send her back. Coyote Head loop runs steeply down for 1 mile and I keep thinking, “I’m going to have to go back up!” Sure enough, the last mile is not runnable for me and I end up hiking the climb back to the finish. Still, I finish in just under 3 hours and, all things considered, I’m pretty happy with that.

Truth be told, the best part of running Loco is the people. The runners. The volunteers. The race director. All of her staff and family. I won’t list them all because I am sure I would leave somebody out, but Karey makes sure that everyone feels like family. I know I do and that’s why I keep coming back. And the grilled cheese Sammie made with waffles are pretty awesome too.

My favorite view
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No Matter Where You Go…

There you are.

Sometimes we find ourselves in a place without being absolutely sure how we got there. I’ve considered how and what to write about this for the better part of the last year. Even now, I’m not absolutely sure what may end up on this page. I think my readers may fall into at least three categories on this. First, are those to whom I would likely give an explanation of the events of the last couple of years anyway. Some have asked and already know. Some have not asked, or said that they want to and, for various reasons, just haven’t. Second are those who may crave the gossip and have no other reason than to simply want to be in “the know.” Third are they who, like me, have found themselves at a place in life that looks very different than where they expected to be and they are not sure how they got here. To them I say, “welcome to this strange club.” I hope that, as I learn to navigate these foreign waters, my experiences will help you navigate yours as well.

There have been times that I have gone on a run that, although I have started on familiar trails, I have ended up exploring new trails and wondering where I am and how I got there. Each turn and fork in my journey seemed like the best decision at the time, but led me further and further off of my intended trail. Thus far I have always found my way, but there have been times that it took me much longer and further than I had intended.

Like those trails, I have managed my life by choosing what seemed best, at least most the time. My tale includes family, friends, career, trains (at least one), a lot of emotional and physical pain, a lot of time, and some professional help. You’ll have to buy the book (when I finally finish it) if you want the whole story in one place, but some of it will be here and I hope it helps.

As the song by Dawes says, “things happen, that’s all they ever do.” Some people say that “everything happens for a reason,” but sometimes the reason is that we made a decision, or (more likely) a series of decisions that led us to the place where we are now. For good or bad, wherever we are is a result of decisions we have made to get there. Further, WHO we are is well defined by the sum of all decisions we have made up to this point in our lives.

It was not too many years ago that most who know me would have described me as a person of integrity; a person who, when I was falsely accused of misconduct, it was automatically not believed. I have experienced that more than once. In the last few years, however, I have found myself on the other side of that, and I have to ask myself why that is.

A good friend made the observation that, although we tend to jump to defending ourselves, it is often helpful to examine what part we may have played and what responsibility may fall on our own heads. That is where I have been focusing recently.

Truth be told, there is no greater factor in determining where we end up, than the decisions we, ourselves, make concerning the direction in which we are heading. I invite you to join me in this discussion about recovering, redirecting, and reestablishing the direction of our lives towards where (and who) we want to be. My goal is to do so for myself and, in so doing, help others to do the same.

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Running Through COVID

Last week I discussed reasons I have quit running over the years and the confidence I have that I will get back to it. One of those reasons was that my family and I caught the COVID virus and shut down for a couple of weeks. I have seen some people’s experiences concerning COVID and realized that, while mine is similar in many ways, there are some differences that may help people going through it understand what to expect.

Of the 5 of us living in at home, 3 are runners. I started several years ago and progressed up to marathons and ultra marathons and spent most weekends out running 20 miles or more on the trails. I built up a pretty solid base and, although my conditioning faded in the last couple of years, I still had pretty decent conditioning over all. My wife started running with me and, in recent months ran more consistently up to 5 miles and had a solid base as well. My 16 year old son, Sean, joined the cross country team at school and was running consistently as well. My 16 year old daughter has been involved with dance and maintained a high level of conditioning also. My 19 year old daughter thinks of running as punishment, but she will exercise occasionally. I have a tendency to get a bad flu and/or pneumonia during the season, but have not since I started running regularly. Even though I had stopped running for several months after my train wreck, I had begun training for a marathon to run one year after the accident. The point being that we are a fairly healthy family. We had been staying home, socially distancing to the point of near isolation, and wearing masks out in public as recommended. Except…

It was Friday, October 16 that I went over to help a friend with a remodel job he was doing. There were three of us there, plus his daughter and son in law, the homeowners. At the same time, the wives were all together at another house. As far as I am aware, all of us have been doing all the things that the doctors say we should do to flatten the curve and slow the spread.

Sunday I went for a 16 mile trail run and noticed my sinuses closed up and my nose started running like a faucet. I assumed it was allergies. Monday morning I had a slight sore throat that seemed like typical post nasal drip from allergies. Later that week, both of my friends, their wives, and the homeowners started having symptoms as well. Some had low grade fevers. One was sent home from work with a higher fever. My wife developed a fever and had some body aches. My friend, who is immune deficient, started having difficulty breathing and went to a clinic a couple times. Thinking it was allergies, he attempted to work through it (he works socially distanced), but couldn’t and it set him back. Honestly, we were all pretty scared for him.

Originally, I did not intend to get tested. My thinking was that, if I had it, I would quarantine and get better, so I planned to act as if I did. One of my daughters needed a test for work purposes and all of my friends had tested positive (except for the one with the fever, go figure). Suddenly, and I mean like someone flipped a switch, my senses of smell and taste disappeared. By the time I got tested and got my results back, it had already been beyond my 10 day isolation. My 16 year old daughter tested positive, as did my wife. My wife and I had mild symptoms. She had a fever, I did not. My daughter had no symptoms at all. My wife was working from home and, except for increasing the nap breaks, she continued to do so. My 19 year old daughter works as a sub in a day care, so she took two weeks off. She came down with mild symptoms the same time as my son. He stayed home from cross country for two weeks and her two weeks off became three (she still has not gone back to work – its been 5 weeks for her). My 16 year old daughter has just returned to work this week.

Back to the running recovery…

My symptoms were fairly mild by comparison. Sore throat. Headache. Coughing, sneezing. Mostly, I was really, really tired. After all the other symptoms were gone (except the residual cough and the loss of taste and smell – which seem to be returning, gradually) I was still tired and lacked motivation. My wife would ask me to go for a run and I would decline. My son was back running with his team and I was sleeping until 10 and taking a nap in the afternoon. The first time I felt I could do anything was three weeks after symptoms. I “ran” 1.6 miles. Four days later I mustered a 3 mile bike ride to Starbucks. Four days after that I slogged 5 miles on the trail at 13 min/mile. Five days later I managed 3.5 miles at a decent 11:41 (for me) pace. Finally, today I ran 5 miles on the trail again at 12:36 average. For the first time since COVID, I was able to run without getting winded. Now my conditioning has suffered, but I think my base will pull me back fairly quickly.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my original plan was to run a marathon one year after my accident. Fortunately, that was cancelled because I was not recovered enough to do that. My back up was to run the California International Marathon in December. Also cancelled. I would not be ready for that because of COVID.

Truth be told, this has forced me to slow down. I have to accept that my body needs more time to recover. I need to let myself heal at a pace that is not dictated by me, but rather, by the physical and emotional need my body and mind will determine. These things are completely outside my locus of control. What is in my locus of control is to get up and do whatever I am capable of doing each day… and to forgive myself for falling short of my expectations. I’v always wanted to “run free.” I got this tattoo to remind myself of that several years ago. I guess it was more of a goal than a motto. I haven’t achieved it yet. Sometimes we have to realize how little control we actually have over circumstances and situations in order to let go. What we do have control over is our reaction to those circumstances and situations. We need to embrace that.

Corre libre - run free
Corre Libre – Run Free and the ; reminds me to just keep running
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I Ran Today

But this a “not running” story. Which is different than a post about running, or a post that is not about running. This is, specifically, about not running.

I was thinking about it this week: about why I haven’t been running and why I had stopped running at various times in my life.

I ran in high school and took the summer off. When I started up again I did too much too fast and injured my knees. That was it for almost 15 years. I ran a little before taking a softball team on Bay To Breakers (that’s a whole other story), but then I was off running again for a while.

I was busy. I was not really interested. I forgot my love of running.

Ten years ago I started running again. I started to lose some weight and feel healthier. Walking turned into running. 1 mile became 2 and then 3. My first 5k grew to a 10k and a half marathon and then a full marathon. I discovered the trail along the way and soon ran my first 50k and then my first 50miler. I ran several 50k races and a couple of 50 milers after that. I never had the desire to go further… until I did.

Life gets in the way and training takes a lot of time. My conditioning suffered as my mileage declined and I also had to recover from various running injuries including Achilles issues, Plantar Fasciitis, and occasional knee pain. I spent a few years alternating between resting and pushing too hard to get ready for a race too long for my preparation. A string of DNF’s and DFL’s and I began to feel less motivated.

Issues with work and like began to eat away at my running as well. I pulled way back from my training and struggled from time to time to get back to it. Then came the crushing (literally) train wreck and the decision to retire from teaching after 22 years.

And then COVID.

Not only did the pandemic change everything, including cancelling my intended comeback race, but my entire family caught the virus. Recovering from any respiratory illness is slow and frustrating.

Another month with fewer and fewer miles, and then a whole month of no running.

A friend once told me that the trails will be there when I am ready and they will always welcome me back. I find that’s true of the running community as well. When I “see” them on social media and mention that I miss them, they always respond with “miss you too, come back soon.” What they never do is make me feel bad for not being there. Neither do the trails.

So, today I ran. 5 easy miles at a slow pace along one of my favorite trails with my wife.

Truth be told, a lot of things in my life affect my running, but my running has an effect on a lot of things in my life. I will get back to running more miles and more time on the trails. I pushed myself to run a marathon a year after getting hit by a train. The pandemic decided it would take two years to do that. I look forward to running with some of my favorite people in some of my favorite places.

Whatever it is that you love to do, but have been denying yourself, you can go back to it when you are ready. No pressure. No hurry. Take your time and do a little at a time. Just do one thing each day.

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One year later…

Train v Truck

On the first anniversary of my accident I am reflecting on what I thought at the time was the bottom. “Nowhere to go but up,” I thought. It took a couple of days to process what had happened and to get past the feeling that I might not survive. Next came the hope that I could fully recover and that was followed by determination that I would do so. What I learned is that physical pain and healing is nothing compared to emotional injury.

Unfortunately, that was not the worst day of my life, or even the worst day of the year.

I don’t need to go into more details of all that, as I have posted much of that part of the story before. I need to delve into two things that I have learned. First, things can always get worse, and they often do. Second, if you count on people too much, they will let you down.

Second things first; all people have a limit as to how much they can tolerate. Their individual limits can fluctuate based on what is going on in their own lives. There have been many times when I was at, or near, my limit and have chosen to take my own stress out of my mind so I could help a friend with theirs. Often, I think, it is easier to deal with someone else’s baggage than our own. There have also been times when I have had to pull away from friendships because the weight of theirs was too much to add to the weight of mine and I could not off-load it without off-loading them. Some of these friendships never recovered from that and some of them were rekindled years later, but never to the same degree.

Reverse that and we find that putting too much strain on friendships will erode them until they completely disappear. When this happens suddenly you get two results. The sudden loss of friendships that you counted on leaves you with a devastating feeling of loss. Feelings of isolation and abandonment overwhelm you and you sink into feelings of depression, especially if you suffer from complex PTSD (which often comes about from small events throughout one’s life rather than one definitive event). Also, if you have put too much reliance on your support system, you find that you suddenly do not have one. This exaggerates the feelings of isolation and magnifies everything else that you are going through at the time.

Things can always get worse. I think of the old joke: “it could be worse; it could be raining.” And then, of course, it starts raining. It seems that asking what else could possibly go wrong is a self-fulfilling prophecy. It is a question that you are bound to get an answer to and it will not be pleasant. I recall lying in the hospital, grateful to be alive, and thinking about how I was going to work to recover physically, to run again, and how I would go from this place to new heights… somehow. However, I started dwelling on what else could go wrong and it did. Once you start spiraling through this, it becomes increasingly difficult to move up and forward.

I’m learning two things from all this. First, asking what could go wrong next and expecting things to go wrong are the same thing. Instead, ask where to go from wherever you are and take one step. If it doesn’t work out, start again, and again, and again. As many time as it takes, but focus on how to move forward from where you are and not on what might go wrong.

Second, people are fallible and they may let you down. It’s great to have a support system of friends and loved ones, but if you ask more of them than they are able to provide it will collapse. You have to be able to be your own support system or to be able to find another one. Most insurance will cover a certain amount of counseling or therapy and they are trained to help you through whatever you are going through. Don’t hesitate to get help from a trained professional before you put too much on your friends. Don’t be afraid to let people go. If they want to leave your life, you can’t chase after them. If they choose to be away from you, it might be that they need to. It might be what’s best for you as well. Your true friends will surround you with love and encouragement. That may come form places you don’t expect and it may take time to show up.

Truth be told, maybe it won’t get worse (but it might) and maybe the people in your life will hold fast and give you exactly the support you need you need when you need it (but they might not), and it helps to have a backup plan because if you don’t have one and you need one, it’s a hard fall. Worse than getting hit by a train.

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Time to move forward…

Many years ago my mother had a dream of my life. That dream is the inspiration for the painting pictured above. Although the path I take in the dream, and in my life, is often difficult and fraught with obstacles, I have always believed that I serve a higher purpose for which I have been designed and created. I believe we all are.

In recent months I have been unsure of where I am on my path. I thought I was climbing up the cliff to some unseen precipice, but recent events have led me to question that. I believed that I had a support system of family and friends that I could count on unconditionally. I have learned that there are conditions and limits to that and I, unfortunately, pushed the limits of those conditions.

I was let go from the part of my job I loved the most. At least I still had my job. I was falsely accused and then lied about so that I had to retire early and wasn’t sure where to go next. At least I had my health. I was in an accident in which I was hit by a train. I’ll recover and at least I had my human support system. Then, in one weekend, the entire thing came crashing down and I no longer have my friends, and my family is in jeopardy. I lost my faith and my trust in people, as well as myself. I am angry and frustrated. Once I got to the point that I was considering letting go of life, I knew that I needed to get help.

Two weeks into a six week therapy program I am finally able to find the words to begin to express what is going on in my head. I have three important reasons to write all this and to share it with those interested enough to read it. First, writing helps me process through my thoughts and emotions. Second, I need to record my thoughts while they are fresh so that I can recognize improvement and growth. Finally, and this (I hope) is the most significant, I have felt incredibly alone and I know that I’m not, so I write this so that others will know that they are not alone. I hope that this helps someone, somewhere, know that they are not alone and if you read this and think “I feel that way” I hope you reach out to someone for help and support. Call your doctor. Call a therapist or a counselor. Call a best friend. If you can’t call them, contact me and I will talk to you.

For the first time in several weeks, I feel that there might be a light at the end of the tunnel. Honestly, I can’t see it yet, but I am beginning to see a thinning to the darkness. After my accident, I was determined to get healthy enough to start running again and to run a marathon one year later. Because of the pandemic the marathon was cancelled. My training was not going as I had hoped and I backed off to regroup and redirect. Sometimes you have to know when to stop and change direction… or speed… or to simply reset.

This week I stepped back and redirected my efforts, physically and emotionally. I have no illusions about how difficult the road ahead will be. I still have some unfinished business concerning my accident and I don’t know what to expect. If it is anything like what the last year has brought, it will likely be worse than expected. My second intended marathon will reveal this week whether or not it will also be cancelled, but I’m doing my best to train anyway. I’m still mostly training on my own because I just don’t yet feel able to handle social situations. I hope I will soon be able to run with friends again. I’m trying to do some work to bring in a little income over my retirement, and I hope to be able to find work again by the beginning of the year, after the pandemic allows us to get back to normal… whatever that is.

As I looked at the painting today, once again reflecting on where I am on that path I took in the dream, it occurred to me that I had fallen from the cliff I was climbing. I am currently laying on my back on the beach, with the wind knocked out of me, gasping for breath. I am past the moment where I am certain I will die. I am beginning to catch my breath and realizing that I am going to have to get back up soon and start the climb once again. I still have a higher purpose and I don’t get to let it go. I have to go get it.

Truth be told, I have always been the one people come to for support, rather than the one needing so much. I am determined to be that support for others again. My new career will include public speaking, mentoring, and writing. I am certain that’s where I am going, but I cannot yet see the path to get there. My youngest daughter tells me that she knows I will touch more peoples’ lives in this new way. We all need someone who tells us that… who believes in us. Sometimes they are hard to find and we have to have a plan to get through when the people we count on can’t be there for us. I didn’t have such a plan, so I’m learning to make one. It will take time and effort. If anything I go through helps you, then I will have served my purpose.

I wrote what is below this morning using an “I Am” template I stumbled across. If you would like to use it for your own truth, take the first two words of each line and fill in the rest with your own. The last line of each stanza is the same as the first line of the poem. We all have our own story to tell. Tell yours.

Bold and Afraid

I am bold and afraid
I wonder how to move forward
I hear silence
I see darkness
I want light
I am bold and afraid

I pretend to be strong
I feel like hiding
I touch nothing
I worry nothing is all there is
I cry aloud
I am bold and afraid

I understand life goes on
I say I have hope
I dream of a future
I try to take a step
I hope I don’t fall
I am bold and afraid

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One More Step

I wanted to quit today.

I went for what was supposed to be an 18 mile run on one of my favorite trails. It was hot. My hydration pack wasn’t working correctly. Honestly, although my training schedule says I’m ready for 18 miles, my conditioning doesn’t seem to be. Anything beyond 12 and I fade fast, especially if it’s hot.

So I went out the 9 miles and turned around. I finally figured out why my hydration pack wasn’t working and fixed it. At least I wold have water for the run back. The temperature started rising and I felt the heat taking a toll. I missed a turn somewhere and found myself on unfamiliar trail. Legs started aching and I could feel the commitment to my run drain from me. I found the trail back and made it to a park 4 miles from the park I had left my car at. I saw a ranger and asked if it possible to get a ride to the other park. I had quit.

After a few moments, however, I couldn’t do it. I had finished 14 miles. I could do 4 more. I was already down to hiking, but I could still put one foot in front of another. One step at a time. As the saying goes, “Relentless Forward Progress.”

As it tuns out, this is an accurate metaphor for my life right now. I’ve been fighting an uphill battle of late. I was falsely accused of a litany of things at work and decided that the best move was to retire Early. As I struggle with my new found extra time And loss of income, the support of my friends and family have literally held me together. Recently another accusation came out, it wasn’t actually aimed at me, but my name was mentioned and several of my friends seemed to believe it and no longer want to be in my corner.

Truth be told, I’ve thought about giving up the fight. I don’t know how. I know there are times, for some of us, when the anxiety takes over and we just want to stop fighting. We get tired. It may be that we have to change the target of our fight. It may be that we have to regroup and change who is on our team. Whatever it looks like, the future is worth getting to. The future is better. Your last good day was not your last good day. Neither was mine.

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16 Miles

16 mile run summary using Run Photo app

A few years back I would happily get up early on a Saturday morning to go run 16 miles (or more) and not think twice about it. Last year I backed off from my running quite a bit. I just sort of lost interest. I participated in fewer races and in fewer long runs on the weekend. Consequently, I found those long runs to be more difficult as my endurance base slowly faded.

By the time my father called me and suggested I make St. George Marathon my comeback race, I really was not considering running races anymore, and, probably, nothing longer than 5 or 10 miles on local trails. In fact, my leanings were towards hiking rather than running and maybe spending more time on my bikes than on my feet.

But there I was; lying in a hospital bed after being hit by a train. My elbow had been surgically put back together and my back and ribs were fractured in several places, but my legs seemed ok. The doctors said I would have a full recovery, but it would take time and my internal injuries would likely heal without any further surgery. So, when my father called and said he was looking out his front window of his home at the marathoners running towards the finish line, and he thought I should make this my goal for the next year, I committed to it.

As soon as I was able, I started walking up and down the stairs in my home and then around my neighborhood. Walks got longer and, once the doctor said I was able, I started running a little. I ran my traditional New Year’s Day race. I probably should not have, even at the shorter distance I chose, but I made it through the 5k distance and then paid for it for several days. I was forced to back off a little and walk and run (slowly) on flatter terrain until my internal injuries were more healed.

In case you are not familiar with a typical marathon training plan, it is comprised of shorter base runs during the week with increasingly longer runs on the weekend. The weekday runs are fairly consistent, but they do gradually increase a little. It’s interesting to see the progress made when the weekday runs are now as long (or longer) than the weekend long runs were at the beginning. In most cases the Saturday long runs increase a little for a couple of weeks and then decrease one week and then back to increasing to surpass the last longest run a couple of weeks later. This past week I was scheduled to run 16 miles (15.9 – close enough). Next week I will drop to 12 and then increase to 18, then 14, then 20. 20 is the furthest I will run in preparing for my 26.2 mile marathon distance.

My plan for my 16 mile run was to park my car at a good access point And use it as an aid station along the way. After loading up my Orange Mud Dual Quiver with two water bottles I headed out. I ran in one direction along the American River Bike Trail for 4 miles and then headed back on the other side of the river. I was going to cross the bridge to my car and grab two full bottles. They had been sitting in ice; one with water and the other with Gu Roctane. I also had an apple and a couple of snack choices for some calories, in case I needed them. However, as I approached the bridge at the 8 mile mark, I had used less than half of my water and I didn’t feel the need for any calories. So I continued without crossing to the car. Big mistake!

Throughout the years of running I have learned that I need about 20 ounces of water per hour (approximately every 5 miles cuz I’m slow). At 8 miles I had used almost one bottle of water and figured I could knock out the other 8 miles with one bottle of water. It had been 75* at 6am when I had started and it was starting to warm up quickly. The second half of my run was also more exposed than the first. I finished the 4 miles out in the opposite direction without any problem, but I could tell the water was not going to last 4 more miles. The temperature continued to rise and it didn’t take long before I was regretting the skipped car stop at the half way point. More walking. Trying to conserve water. Finally deciding that finishing the water with 2 miles to go was a better choice since I knew I could get some in 2 miles. I had passed a water fountain at mile 8, but had thought I could make it from there.

Obviously, I did make it, despite the now 95* heat at 9am. Legs cramping. Dehydrated. Tired. It’s not like I almost died. A lot of my life is looked at that way now. I mean, I was hit by a train and I should not have survived, but I did. I’m struggling with being retired now and not sure what to do with the rest of my life, but I am well. I get to run every day (or so) and I have the health and the physical ability to do it without (much) pain, so I do.

Truth be told, I was going to wait until I had run the St. George Marathon to write most of this, but the St. George marathon was cancelled (thank you Covid) this week. I’m still running. I’m still training. I will be running a marathon distance on October 3rd… somewhere. I am hoping to run the California International Marathon on December 6th. I’m not too concerned with how fast I run. I will get there. I’m just happy I get to do it.

It’s no longer the trainwreck, directly, that is slowing me down. I have pretty much recovered (which is miraculous). I lost a good year or two of condition in those seconds. One stupid decision set me back a year or more; and that’s just in my running. A friend of mine told me “the trails will be there when you are ready to come back to them.” I’m ready. The slower I run, the more time I get to enjoy them.

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A Limp

Similar to the Thorn in the Flesh, the Limp is a reminder of our relationship with God. The idea comes from the story of Jacob. After sending all of his caravan on without him, Jacob was alone in camp. A man showed up and they wrestled all night. As dawn broke, the man told Jacob to release him, but Jacob would not until he received a blessing. The man touched Jacob’s hip and left him with a limp. The man then blessed Jacob and changed his name to Israel, saying that he had wrestled with God and lived. It was the limp that established a reminder for the path he would be on for the remainder of his life.

I am struck by two things in the story. First, the reaction of Jacob when he discovers he has been wrestling with God. Jacob thought he was wrestling with an angel (a concept which, in itself, boggles the mind), but then realized he was wrestling with God. Jacob had to be completely awestruck. This came at a time when the common belief was that if anyone saw the face of God, they would die. The second point that strikes me is that God was willing to wrestle with Jacob (at all) throughout the night. When they appeared to reach a stalemate, God simply touched Jacob’s hip, leaving him with a tendon injury resulting in a limp. It has been theorized that Jacob (Israel) had that limp for the remainder of his life.

If you have experienced a significant interaction with God in your life, you may have a limp. It may be a physical, emotional, or mental scar that reminds you regularly of your interaction with God. Jacob would have been constantly reminded, every time he walked with his limp, that he had wrestled with God in order to receive the blessing he sought.

Unlike the thorn, which is a reminder of our weakness and our need for God, the limp is a reminder of an interaction with God that has left us scarred in a way that we are acutely aware that God is ultimately in control. As we go through our lives, we may have different limps (or thorns) for different stages of life. We are reminded of how God has brought us through some significant event, whether it be traumatic, growth, or spiritually awakening. Whatever it was, it has been life altering and has brought us to a new level of understanding our relationship with our Creator.

My left elbow will never be the same. I can feel the metal plate that is holding the pieces of bone together and my arm doesn’t straighten to its full extent. I can function, but it is a constant reminder that I was changed by an event that God brought me through and I will never be completely the same. Yours might be less literal. 

Truth be told, we all have a limp. It may be to differing degrees. It may be that we don’t recognize it. At some point in our lives we experience an interaction with God that changes who we are and how we look at things. It may happen more than once. It may be happening right now. It will leave a mark. It may leave a scar. 

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