Facing Down "Can't"

Could barely walk when I got out of bed

What was I thinking in scheduling a 15 mile run today?
Why even try?
That knee hurts every step.
Why bother today?
You'll only make it worse and possibly ruin your knee
But I said I would try.
I said I would keep trying until I looked "can't" in the face.
<i>This IS "can't" bro.
Are you rum-dum or something?
You are hobbling badly here.
Take note.
Tell "can't" to meet me on the road. We'll talk there.

I got my hydration and nutrition together just as if I were going to make it, and drove out to the run course. Afraid of the worst, putting it off until the last minute, I stretched and stretched and stretched. Then it was time for the showdown; time to face down can't. The day was one pouring myself out unto empty, pleading with God not to let this day break me. It wasn't pretty, but as I slogged out the miles with only minor pain there came an underlying sense of joy, and thankfulness. It wasn't fast but a purposeful steady, three hour plod. Finishing, I raised my hands in gratitude for the blessing I had received: Fifteen miles done! "Can't" never showed up on the road for arbitration or conflict. Hope was present and accounted for. Praise God!

"Commit, Train, And Pray"

I wish I had a dime for every time I thought of quitting this ironman thing. This must be part of the process. To quiet those negative voices, a set of minimum standards for each month was determined. If I did not meet those minimums, I write in and try to get what I can of a refund; simple, direct, and it takes the decision out of my subjective hands, and puts the question into an objective format. Either I make it, or I don't; like making the cut-offs for the swim, bike and run of the ironman. So, as I my running is taking a serious hit from a very sore knee, I don't have to fret about whether it will take me out of the picture. The question is: with the bad knee, can I still make the cut-offs? A 15 mile run before the end of February is one of those cut offs. Tomorrow, I try it. There may have to be some walk and run with this, but that's OK. I will make it or I won't. Mainly, I am doing what was suggested in my ironman Bible, Going Long. It says, "commit, train, and pray." Sounds like a plan. May I continue to step our in faith, remain committed and train as hard as I can until I start Ironman Texas or it is certain I am defeated. And I will pray. Oh yes. Certainly I will pray, most of all.

Blessed to Dream Big Dreams

Wake at dawn and smell the great coffee. Stretch a little on the way to the kitchen to get those hamstrings loose a bit and then that first rich cup of special coffee. Sometimes there are deer outside to watch as they watch us. Besides all the training for an ironman, there is so much to do living in the country. It is different set of obstacles from most ironman competitors, I would imagine. But, something tells me that everyone who lines up for an ironman event has dealt with their own special circumstances to get there. Glad I have the garden tilled.

Now I replant the spinach and plant the kale. We plant potatoes on Valentine's day, so we need to get the seed potatoes cut. Hauled up some more cross ties to make that raised bed for things like lettuce and bell peppers. Then it will be a wheelbarrow and shovel gathering of cow manure for the bed. There is a porch rail for which I need to concrete a post in. The concrete is just laying there on the porch as if to say, "do me next, do me next." There are falling limbs strewn all over the yard from all the dead trees. I need to pick them up - mowing coming soon - but I really need to finish cutting up those other dead trees I felled.

There will be wood to be split, and an hour of that might be called a stength workout. There is something about the crack of an axe, placed well, sounding that true center was struck exposing new wood exposed sort of like placing your heart and energy in the right place to find a new and fresher self. There is something about the clean smell of evening here, the silence of the misty morning sunrises, the hard labor which must be done here to maintain the elements of this lifestyle here in the country. It is many miles to a gym or pool. I make the trip and swim long once a week until the waters in my pond warm enough to swim in.

I have been blessed; blessed by having enough problems, opportunities, burdens, and responsibilies. But most of all I think I am blessed in knowing, and realizing that indeed, I am blessed. And feeling so honored and so blessed, I can have the courage to live large and dream big dreams: dreams like completing an ironman.

Getting Lucky

To me, luck is the juncture of preparation and opportunity. Like someone wrote, "the harder I work, the better luck I seem to have." So I come to WEEK 13 of my Ironman training program. I am almost surprised I made it this far. Even after all this work though, sometimes I wonder if I am getting any better at this. Am I just wasting my time? My bike route is a 10 mile out and back on a hilly course. Superbowl Sunday afternoon, when I came to the turnaround at 10 miles, I saw another rider getting his bike ready to ride. He would be coming up behind me; can't let him catch me. Took a big drink of sports drink and hammer down. I was surprised. I was really rolling. Can I hold on? Looking down on my Garmin, I thought there was no way a rider was likely to catch me. On I rolled, faster still, almost with abandon, realizing that this was one of those special times when I am in the zone; moments I am into. Yes! On a straight stretch of road I looked back and the rider was nowhere in sight. Ten miles later I turned around and went back again. After going about 2 miles, I saw the rider turning around at the base of a hill he didn't want to climb. The rider looked like a friend of mine that sometimes rides out here, so down the hill I soar, an animal by now, gaining, gaining on my quarry. It wasn't my friend. Before I closed completely I broke off and went back the other direction. Sanity had returned, and my thought was that I didn't want to blow this guy out of the water. He had given me what I needed: a chance to test myself. Thank God for that rider. What I realized was that my training had put a lot more in the tank than I had thought. I have worked hard for it; I fought for it. I am getting there. Lucky me? NO! God had blesed my efforts, my faith, my obedience. Luck had nothing to do with it.

I Believe I Can

Never known been to be conservative, the first thing my son signed up for was an olympic distance triathlon. He could barely make headway in the water. I was no swimmer at all and even I was a better swimmer than he was. Now, he planned on swimming 1500 yards? No ! What was he thinking? He explained that all he had to do was swim a 100 meters, hang on the buoy until rested, and then move on to the next buoy. All he had to do was swim a 100 meters 15 times. I didn't like the plan at all. I prayed hard, really hard. His wave went off and and I watched him make the first buoy. Thank God. His wave left him and the next wave readied to start the swim. He didn't move. I could see his yellow swim cap still near that first buoy. The next wave went off and swimmers came to the first buoy and went on to the second, and my son still seemed to be hanging on that first buoy. What is wrong? I started pacing about the shoreline feeling like I am about to come apart. Long moments passed and I still could see, what looked like his yellow swim cap near that first buoy. My wife told me to calm down. But, it is my son out there. I want to go out to that first buoy myself but I'm wasn't that good of a swimmer either. A race official told me he didn't think anyone was on that buoy, but I had not seen my boy leave it. From the crowd of spectators on the shoreline a man stepped forward to talk to me. I told him my story abd he said, "let's pray." We joined hands and he prayed a simple, yet eloquent prayer for my son and my sanity. I gained a measure of calm and peace, I had not had before. Most of the swimmers were in except for three or four scattered about the swim course, plodding along. One of them came in, and it was the wife of the nice man I prayed with. It was easy to cheer her in. Then I thanked and shook my friend's hand before he followed his wife up to the transition area. I turned back to the lake and see a tired swimmer muddling along to the shoreline. Could this be my son. I think it is. I hollered out and he lifted his head from the water. He had a huge smile all over his face; so glad to be getting out of that water. I was so impressed, so proud of him, Wow! That spirit of adventure and challenge that my son exhibited was motivating, inspiring, and contagious. I can do that. I bet I can. Sure, I'm no swimmer---yet. I am no cyclist--yet. But, I believe I can. Four months later, on my son's birthday, I did my first triathlon. And we did it together. Forty triathlons later I am training for and awaiting my first ironman attempt. I'm not that good of a swimmer, not that good of a biker or runner, but I believe I can. Somehow, praise God, I can.

The Price of Admission

I wrote my friend that I had swam the ironman distance of 2.4 miles. Did I think I could do a 112 bike and a marathon run after that swim? Probably not, I wrote back. But, it is my prayer and my purpose to make myself ready to do those distances by the time the event is here. Can I do that? I honestly don't know for sure. What I do know is that I will keep moving forward, training every day. Pushing myself, denying myself, recreating myself into the person I want to be through experiencing the miles of the journey. The journey thus far has been most self-illuminating. Sometimes I don't like what I find protected back in the musty corners of my lifestyle. And, sometimes the revelations show me that I have much to be thankful for; much to feel blessed about. Sometimes I find that I am bigger than I thought I was, and can do more than I thought I could. What a great adventure it is just to embark and continue the miles of this journey for as long as it lasts. If it ends tomorrow, I will still feel blessed by this experience Doing the miles has been more than worth the price of admission.

I Have a Dream

Martin Luther King "had a dream." So do I. But, I have always been a dreamer. Most of my dreams went up in smoke,but some survived to fruition. But for better or worse, I lived with the hope, joy, and expectation that all these dreams engendered. I have been blessed to be a dreamer. I have been blessed because I have a dream. My dream in an earlier part of my life was to get a college degree. After twelve years of various jobs, schedules, and struggles, I live my dream. 

 My dream for the last 10 years has been to finish an ironman. Sometimes I wish I could put it down and move on a less risky, mundane way of thinking and lifestyle, but something keeps me restless for dreams. Perhaps, like Thoreau wrote, I want "to live with the license of a higher order of being." Perhaps that is some of what Martin Luther King wanted too; that we all might live as larger people unafraid to dream big, to plan big for achievement and betterment for ourselves and all our brothers and sisters. 

 My dream has staggered and fallen many times in the last 10 years, and in one of my fallen despondent moments, my sister wisely told me, "Marv, you are so blessed to have a dream even if you fail. Most people don't have one and you do." So in the falling and rising and the stumbling and succeeding; in my worst and best moments of this pursuit: I am still highly blessed. Praise God! I have a dream.