Boston 2013

(Boston Local 103 IBEW)

My heart got ripped out during the 2013 Boston Marathon. Although we have all anguished over the dead and injured many times after similar, senselessly tragic events, I always had a sense of detachment. They happened somewhere else. I didn’t know anyone directly involved. I’ve never been there.

But having grown up in the Boston area and run The Marathon just last year, the bombings this year became personal. I had been in the crowds and experienced the joyous electricity among the spectators as a kid, and I was finally able to fulfill a lifelong goal of being the focus of that excitement as a competitor in 2012. I can say the commitment and multiple years of training and preparation it takes to get to the starting line as a runner is matched only by the years of commitment and encouragement provided by a runner’s friends and families. Friends and families that were ripped apart for simply offering encouragement – 26.2 miles of beautifully loud and raucous encouragement - where it is needed most.

I keenly understood many aspects surrounding this event, and when I first heard of the bombings, my response was intensely furious. I’ve got to do something! Instinctively, I wanted the perpetrators brought to justice. If I were being honest, I wanted an eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, severed limb for severed limb. But, honestly, what could I do?

In 2 Chronicles 20:1-30, the king of Judah, Jehoshaphat, is faced with disaster thanks to an impending invasion by overwhelming army, and he’s wondering what to do. “Alarmed, Jehoshaphat resolved to inquire of the Lord” (v3), and he prayed intensely before concluding with this appeal to God: “For we have no power to face this vast army that is attacking us. We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you” (v12). 

The Lord answered “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out and face them tomorrow, and the Lord will be with you” (v17). The next day, as the people of Judah “began to sing and praise, the Lord set ambushes” against the invaders (v22), and the armies completely annihilated each other (v23). There is no mention of Judah’s people lifting a finger during the battle, only their voices. 

Whether it’s an invading army, mad bombers, natural disasters, a cancer diagnosis, bullies, or a host of other things that make hearts quake with fear, what can you do? We cannot control what might happen to us. As Jehoshaphat said, we don’t have any power over those things, and we should acknowledge as much by praying to the One who does.

The only control we have is how we respond to the situation. And if you are searching for victory, that response should include prayer, praise and perseverance, as the Lord does His work.

Litton

The story of Kip Litton is amazing. In the August 6, 2012 issue of The New Yorker, Mark Singer details just how amazing, as this dentist went from overweight to running marathons. Inspired, he set out to finish a marathon in less than three hours in each state. To cover 26.2 miles in under three hours, while not utilizing transportation with wheels, is a difficult and significant accomplishment. To do it repeatedly is astounding.

www.writingaboutrunning.com

Litton started and maintained his own website to chronicle his feats, which initially went unnoticed. However, for about a year when he was 48, he averaged about one marathon per month, and traveled all over the country to race. In many of these races, he finished near the top of his age group. Incredibly, he actually won the West Wyoming Marathon outright.

And people did begin to take notice of Litton’s performances. People like the overall fourth-place finisher at the Deadwood Mickelson Trail Marathon. Litton’s time put him in third place overall. But the fourth place finisher was actually in third place at the halfway point, and he swore he did not get passed during the last half of the race. He would have noticed, too – the last half of the course consisted of a six-foot wide trail.

Other runners, bloggers and race directors failed to find Litton in the myriad of photographs taken during races, except at specific timing checkpoints. People sleuthing the internet eventually figured out Litton fabricated the entire West Wyoming Marathon that he supposedly won, from creating the event website, to inventing the names of the other “participants” and their times.

Litton was exiting each course between timing checkpoints, utilizing transportation with wheels to travel to the next checkpoint, and then re-entering the race. Once he crossed through the checkpoint, he repeated the process. He was cutting the course, which is a running term for “cheating.”

As Singer concludes, “Litton’s story could have been a small but admirable one: an out-of-shape Midwestern dentist who transformed himself into a competitive marathoner. But he had insisted on transforming himself further, inventing a heroic avatar, ‘Kip Litton,’ that couldn’t be sustained.” Singer continues, “But whatever glory he felt was surely short-lived” as people exposed him as a fraud.

What stories are we spinning to impress people, stories based on deception and cheating, which only require more cheating and more deception to maintain? What front or what mask are we putting up for people to see, when the truth is actually very different? Whether stories or facades, they are still lies.

Maybe we’re fooling those people now, but we can’t sustain it. Frauds do ultimately get exposed. As it says in the Message translation of Numbers 32:23, “You can be sure that your sin will track you down.” 

And then the story won’t be so amazing.

Boston

“It. Was. So. Much. Fun.” That was the first response – with an emphatic, whimsical pause between each word – when I asked runners what the Boston Marathon was like. I started asking about two years ago, before I had fully dedicated myself to the months of preparation ahead. I wanted to know what one of the most prestigious, challenging and demanding marathon courses in the world had in store for me.


I expected to hear about the hills on the course (the most famous one isn’t called “Heartbreak” for nothing). I expected to hear about how much their legs hurt after enduring the race. I expected to hear about how terrible training through a Montana winter to be race-ready in April would be.

But no.

The initial and immediate response from the Boston veterans uplifted and encouraged me.

When I finally participated in the 2012 Boston Marathon, my legs screamed in pain because the hills were brutal, and the withering heat near 90 degrees made me wilt, and I ran my worst race since junior high.

And yet when people started asking me how the race went, I found myself echoing that happy first response. Running through the midst of a 26.2 mile tailgate party, with thousands upon thousands of people cheering and encouraging you on, mile after mile, affects you like that. I think if I had smelled even a whiff of negativity when I first starting asking about Boston, I would have given up on the marathon idea, and therefore, would have missed out on pure joy, in spite of all the difficulties.

It probably shouldn’t be surprising, then, that Jesus did not mention the potential troubles, pain, and suffering the disciples could be in for when He first asked them to follow Him. After all their time together, Jesus did not say “In this world you will have trouble” until His last day on earth (John 16:33). Up to that point, I would think the disciples had been a fearful mix of awe, wonder and amazement. But initially, I think “Follow me” probably sounded joyful, playful, and even whimsical, the same way runners told me about Boston.

So the next time I find myself on the verge of discussing my Christian faith, I’m going to try and start with some version of “It. Is. So. Much. Fun.” Because I don’t want someone else to miss out on all the fun.

Sour Cream



www.bonappetit.com

The sour cream never had a chance. Never knew what hit it. Innocently it waited in my refrigerator for the next potato- or nacho-based meal, which as a bachelor happened frequently.


This particular day, I staggered into my apartment after running 22 miles while training for my first marathon. Drenched with sweat, vision blurred and legs wobbling, I lurched toward the kitchen, ravenous after burning so much energy. Flinging open the door to the fridge, several tumbleweeds blew out, exposing the unsuspecting tub of protein and fat. Hesitating briefly, a small voice of reason pleaded to not make meal out of a condiment. I shrugged, and attacked the sour cream with primal gusto anyway.

Even though I had changed my physical regimen over several months to prepare for running 26.2 miles, I hadn’t changed my eating habits – burgers, fries, fried chicken, and now apparently, a foray into the fattier condiments. No wonder my body always felt so broken down, and I was zombified by the need for sleep.

Call me crazy, but a food-ish product that contains 10% of my suggested daily allowance of saturated fat in a mere 2 tablespoons couldn’t possibly replace all the carbohydrates, potassium, sodium, vitamins and minerals I burned off in mass quantities. And it certainly could not provide me energy for the next training run. So I lost weight and remained sluggish throughout my training. I bonked during the actual race. My legs turned to mush, and I slogged through the last 2 miles like I was shuffling through waist-deep wet cement.

In the second half of 1 Corinthians 10, Paul writes about bad food. Bad because it was sacrificed to idols, not bad because of its fat content. These days, we do not have to worry about whether our food participated in pagan temple rituals. But we should be concerned about what food we put into our bodies, and how it affects our moods, our energy levels, and our focus because it relates to how well and how actively we can serve God.

When speaking of food, Paul said, “Everything is permissible – but not everything is beneficial. Everything is permissible – but not everything is constructive” (1 Corinthians 10:23). The items on my bachelor menu were all readily acceptable to eat, but they were not helpful for me. I hope you do not have a sour-cream-as-a-meal habit, but what other food-ish item(s) are on your regular menu that may not be beneficial for you in the long run?

The Last Mile

I was running out of time and ready to give up. Coasting easily to the finish sounded so tempting, and after 12 miles of a 13 mile race, my legs pleaded to just stop. But that guy several hundred yards in front of me . . . my little competitive voice kept drifting up through the pain: “Go get him.” I had been trailing him for several miles, near the completion of the Missoula Half Marathon. Even if I didn’t pass this guy, I would have been satisfied with my time and effort.


I lost sight of him as he rounded the next corner a block away. Crowd noise and an announcer’s voice wafting through the trees meant the finish line was close. I inhaled deeply and looked down, beginning to accept the fact I would not catch the guy and could coast to the finish.

As I exhaled and looked back up, there on the corner stood a lone woman, clapping.

Now, most spectators along race routes say encouraging, yet banal, things as you run past – “Way to go,” “Nice job,” or “You’re doing great.” This woman, however, made eye direct contact with me as I rounded the corner, cocked her head toward the other guy, and said excitedly, “Oh yeah, I think you got him.”

As I rounded the corner, the guy came into view, no closer than before. But in that instant, I knew the mystery woman was right. With her encouragement, I felt suddenly energized, and began to pick up the pace. The guy got closer and closer and closer as I chased him down, eventually churning past him without letting up until the finish line. I didn’t win the race – not by a long shot – but it sure felt like I had. All it took was a little encouragement.

We feel run down at times. We just get tired. We know plenty of people in the same condition. But targeted and meaningful words, more than the usual trite words, delivered at the right time can be uplifting and invigorating. “Gracious speech is like clover honey – good taste to the soul, quick energy for the body” (Proverbs 16:24, MSG), energy for us all to push on a little farther than we think possible. “Therefore encourage one another and build each other up” (1 Thes. 5:11, NIV) so we can all finish strong together.

Training Tips

Those of you who read this blog back in February might remember something about me running a marathon. That was 5 months ago, so here’s an update: the race is still not until July 11th. It’s been a long time coming. But in the time I’ve been training, I’ve learned a lot, not only about how to be a better runner, but how some of those same lessons apply to my journey as a Christian.

I’d like to think the changes in my life over the past 5 months are a little more profound than burning so much energy that I eat like a teenager again and doubling our food bill. The preparation and training for this long distance race are similar to how we should all be practicing as Christians to meet our ultimate goal of crossing the finish line into heaven. So here’s a list of some training tips I’ve learned:

1. Verbalize your goal, out loud and by yourself. Then tell someone else, and then someone else. After a while, even the craziest sounding goal begins to seem reasonable.

2. Find people who understand your goals and will encourage you along the way.

3. Plan your life around what you need to do to meet your goal, not vice versa.

4. Accept the fact that there will be setbacks, and you probably will get hurt. See #2. And keep going as best you can.

5. Pace yourself. Burning out makes it 10 times harder to get going again.

6. How well you do is based entirely on your effort, commitment and perseverance, not somebody else’s.

7. If you want to get better, you’ve got to struggle up some steep hills.

8. You won’t get to the top of the hill by coasting down. See #7.

9. Don’t compare your results to the results of others. It’s your race. See #6.

10. Celebrate your accomplishments along the journey. Even if they seem minor, they are steps toward something major.

OK. Maybe my list seems obvious, slightly corny, or both. But I have come to believe that Roger Banister, the first person to run one mile in under 4-minutes, was on to something when he said “Running helps us do other things better.” Maybe running isn’t your thing, but we are all on a long journey. Even if you never plan to run a marathon, you are still in training for that journey, and need to “train yourself to be Godly” (1 Tim. 4:7).

Qualifying

Kristin arched her eyebrow when I told her. Now, I’m telling you, too: I’m going to run a marathon this year, which by itself is a lofty goal. But, I don’t want to just complete the 26.2 mile race. I want to run it fast enough to qualify for one of the most prestigious marathons in the country, the Boston Marathon. There. I said it.

My wife remembers my last marathon all too well. Eleven years ago, my friend Jeff convinced me to run in the Rock n’ Roll Marathon in San Diego. As I staggered across the finish line, my legs felt like I was dragging them through wet cement, and my skin color melded seamlessly with my soaked white shirt. My legs hurt so bad, I walked backwards for three days, and I avoided stairs like the front pew in the Sanctuary. Whatever I had done for training did not prepare me for the actual race, and I paid dearly for it.

But as Paul said in several references relating the similarities of physical training to spiritual training, I am starting by “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead” (Philippians 3:13). I’m ready to go into strict training, preparing to “run in such a way as to get the prize” (1 Cor. 9:24).

My qualifying race is not until July, but preparation starts now. To achieve my marathon goal this time will require sustained focus, dedication, determination, discipline, patience, perseverance, sacrifice and commitment on my part, not to mention the support and encouragement of others.

Sound familiar? If not, then maybe it’s time to pay closer attention to those sermons on Sundays, especially the parts about how to live like Christ. Being a Christian is not a spectator sport. God calls for active participation, and that participation requires preparation.

Come July, I want to be so prepared that I will be sure of qualifying for Boston. Physically, I need to start increasing the miles I run and my speed. In my spiritual life, I want to be so prepared that my eternal calling and election will be sure (2 Peter 1:10), and to do that, I need to improve my prayer life. Over the next four months, I plan on making strides to improve both physically and spiritually.

What about you? What are the goals for your spiritual life to draw closer to God? How are you going to “train yourself to be Godly” (1 Tim. 4:7)?

Midgets

“Cut them off,” our coach growled. “Cut them off, and intimidate them.” Intensity flashed in his eyes as he told Tommy and I what we needed to do right after the starter’s gun fired at our cross-country race just a few minutes away. “Make sure that you guys line up on each side of them, so you can jump out and form a great big wall in front of them.” Tommy and I were each 6-foot, 4-inches tall. “They” were two brothers who were the best runners on their team, and topped out in the low 5-foot range, putting Tommy and I about a full foot taller. And for several years, us tall guys had developed a fierce rivalry with these short guys, also known as The Midgets.

“Make them go around you. Catch them off guard. Break their stride. Don’t let them establish their pace right off the line.” Then the coach’s voice dropped for emphasis, and he slowly repeated, “Cut. Them. Off. And. Intimidate. Them.” Because most of our races with the Midgets over the years had been close, I originally thought that a few steps coming off the starting line of a 3-mile race might make a difference, but I came to understand our coach was really speaking of psychological intimidation. If we could throw the Midgets off mentally, we would gain a much more valuable advantage.

When the starter's gun fired, Tommy and I bolted off the line and quickly sidestepped in front of The Midgets, slamming together like barn doors. The audible gasps and grunts from behind us indicated their frustration.

Just when you seem ready to step out for God or move in a positive direction in your faith, don’t the stumbling blocks fly out in front of you from every direction? Suddenly, somebody makes a snide comment, the boss expects you to work late, a family crisis erupts, your car breaks down, or it rains. And that’s when the doubt jumps up, cuts us off and intimidates us, and from that point on, it’s a lot harder to get mentally motivated.

But God equipped us to handle any obstruction, distraction or intimidation so that we should not be mental midgets, “for God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7, NKJV). With God, there’s no reason to panic. Just stay focused, and keep going.

If you’re having any doubts, well, “who cut in on you and kept you from obeying the truth?” (Galatians 5:7, NIV)

1/4 Mile

To race for one-quarter of a mile is one of the toughest running events a member of a track team can be asked to do. Just a little too far to be a sprint so you can run as hard as you can for the entire distance. Just a little too short to be a distance race so you can conserve some energy and pace yourself.

In high school, the coach had us distance runners do many ¼-miles for practice, and after those practices, we all would collapse in near exhaustion. Before one particular practice started, I found a pair of football shoulder pads in the equipment shed, and slipped them on for a laugh. Then I found out practice for that day would be ¼-mile, ¼-mile, ½-mile, ¼-mile, ¼-mile, ½ mile. Ouch. Then the questions started: “Hey, Sean, you gonna keep those on or what?” “Are you wimping out?” “Taking off the pads?” Having a stubborn streak, the pads stayed on as we started.

I made it through the first ½-mile, but was obviously dragging. The workout would have been hard enough without the extra weight, but with it, my legs burned, my lungs heaved, and my heart pounded so hard I thought my ribs would crack from the inside out. So finally, I decided to get rid of the extra weight, and tossed the pads aside. The next ¼-mile run, I was amazed at how much quicker and lighter I felt. I guess you could say that I felt somewhat rejuvenated, even though I was racing for ¼-mile.

If it feels like you’re dragging, like you’ve got a weight on your shoulders or your heart, you might be carrying around some extra burden that you need to toss aside. It’s time to rejuvenate yourself because, as Psalm 12:25 says, “An anxious heart weighs a man down.” “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed” (James 5:6). Confessing our sins is liberating, like being freed of shoulder pads. The race we’ve all got to run is hard enough without the extra weight that sin uses to drag us down.