"That Our Flag Was Still There"

Probably the approach of Memorial Day got me thinking of some words of "The Star Spangled Banner." In fact, I looked up some of the details of that battle which inspired the words to the song.

The British had taken Washington D.C., burned the White House, and destroyed other government buildings. The President and government were on the run for a while. Then the British took Alexandria without a scuffle as the defenders ran off. They sacked Alexandria, and moved to take Baltimore and its port. But first, there was Fort McHenry in their way. Then for twenty-five hours, the British Navy bombarded the fort with 1500-1800 cannonballs. This bombardment was what inspired Francis Scott Key to pen the text to the song. Through the night he could see the flag still standing only by the light of the artillery assault. The fort held. The men held. The British sailed away. The tattered flag was replaced by another one - an oversized one.

What made these men stand against the momentum of defeat? I submit that the fabric of this young nation was woven under fire. And, I submit that the fabric of our own lives are woven under fire, as well. Perhaps, our own characters have been shaped and molded by what we have endured, and what we have stood for, and what we have stood against. Perhaps, endurance sports is sort off our own personal battle without bombs, wherein we place ourselves under fire, maybe only to see, and be reaffirmed "that our flag is still there."

Chase the Man on the Bike

The little dog did his best. On my way out this little poodle-type house dog had hung tight. The little legs got him up over 20 mph: amazing! I could tell he loved the challenge. When I came back by he gave chase but all the little guy could manage was 18 mph. He'll get there. Good workout.

How many house men and women are waiting in the yard for something to get them out of the yard; off the couch, into active life. I guess we just need something that makes us want to give chase. Perhaps, we need the man on the bike to come by, a crazy idea;chasing something simply for the joy of the chase. Ah, and we keep up with the man on the bike, finally, we might just look over and see the man on the bike was ourselves.

Life Is Good, Rocks and All

Those little rocks can hurt. I had been doing almost an hour of open water swimming. What had started off tentatively, was ending in a melody. Open water swims can be like that for me and this time I really didn't want to leave the water. But, since I must, why not simulate a triathlon swim exit, and run out of the water to the transition area? Into it! Ah, those little rocks on the parking lot. Need to practice running through those too.

Courses don't always have the magic carpet from water to transition. Sometimes in triathlon and in life, we have run over the rocks. Might as well be prepared: there will be rocky exits. Stepping gingerly, navigating the pebble-strewn course, I could not but smile. Life is good; rocks and all.

Days in the Shade on the Side of the Road

That dog that has been on my bike and run course for years, was strangely missing for a few days. I have written about my canine friend here before. He is sort of my dog too and he seemed to be missing. A little more absenteeism and I was going to ask the residents what happened to our dog.

Out on the bike a couple days ago, I saw my old friend, not barking or charging out upon the road to demand attention, but sitting in the shade on the side of the road, wagging his tail. How strange, I thought. So, I got off the road, and gave my old friend some TLC, after which he slowly walked back to his yard. Strange again. Perhaps, he is finally too old.? He does have the gray muzzle and has been on this road for about a decade. Perhaps, he has heartworms, or something else that doesn't let him feel good?

Some days I am like that myself, though. People see me beat up, burned down, and probably wonder if I am finally too old. Do I have some disease or whatever?

But wait! Today, I rode by that house several times and each time, the dog met me with that barking, tail wagging charge, onto the road, I have grown to expect and appreciate. Each time, I stopped and gave him the TLC he was holding me up for.

Today, I had a great ride, I bore into the gusting winds, and charged the long hills, surprising even myself. And this comes following several days of lethargic training. I guess I have had my day in the shade on the side of the road as well.

Today, we are still standing, still charging, and the passion of life still courses through our veins. I know this can't last forever for us, but this day, ah! this day, we lived well.

Hope Looks Up

When really tired, I run like someone boxing a very short person: all hunched up, looking down. Lately, I have been trying to improve my fatigued running style. Bad part of that is: I have to get really fatigued to work on it.

It is taking extreme measures to overcome this awful running style, so I play games upon myself. When I feel my body start to creep into hunched position, I fight back by pulling my cap down low over my eyes. No, I can't see where I am going unless I look up. But my head must tilt back to view the road. When I do, I seem to feel an imaginary string pulling my head up. My other body parts then seem reminded and inspired. The shoulders go back, the hips go forward, and the scuff, scuff is taken out of my step. And it all started by looking up.

Sometime life gets as tiring as the last miles of a long run, and we might be slogging along on a scuffing survival march, looking down, hardly aware of where we might be going. But, hope looks up. Perhaps we were made and set here to give expression of this Hope, so that others may feel reminded and inspired to become part of that Hope God has set within us. Hope looking up may just take the scuff-scuff from our journey.

Finding the Defrag Zone

It happens sometimes. Something just seems to click. The mind, body, and Spirit seem to sing the same tune in harmony, and training just goes into a zone. This week, there have been two such sessions. Out there alone on the road, with minimal traffic, it all seemed to come together.  like I hit that special button and life does a defrag. I was blessed and I keenly felt it. 

Sometimes I think the miles of this journey are as much about finding that button, finding that defrag zone, as it is about the events themselves.  Thank you God for those perfect moments.

The Stone Was Rolled Away

The same winds that have been pushing the Texas wildfires, pushed against my bike and I this morning. For a couple weeks now my training has been less than mediocre. My rides have been short, mostly on an indoor trainer. Sometimes, in times like these, I wonder if I have anything left, mentally or physically. Oh, I have been doing enough to maintain fitness and well-being. It is a signal of serious slippage, when I start thinking of only doing enough training for fitness.

I went to the course with the hills this morning, and rode generally south, mostly into the gusting winds. Today will tell, I thought. About two miles and the hills began. The first one wasn't all that bad. There were several more, and the wind is rocking the pine trees all around me. I can't hear much but the wind. The next hill, the next and I am smiling some. The last hill and I know: it is still there! Yes, thank you God! It was as if on the eve of Resurrection Sunday, when we celebrate that "death has lost and Life has won," that I had been resurrected myself. The stone to the tomb my training had been in, was rolled away on that windy, hilly course.

Tomorrow, we get up early to watch the sunrise, to praise, to worship, to celebrate, that the stone was rolled away for us all.