tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57688644840249435172024-03-15T22:48:57.199-05:00Miles of the JourneyThe miles of the journey in life, to include the discipline of endurance sports, and the struggles to live out my faith, have often provoked and provided spiritual and inspirational revelations, as well as a heighened awarenesss and appreciation for my many blessings. This work is my attempt to share those miles in hopes others might be blessed as well. https://booklocker.com/books/12152.htmlMiles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.comBlogger734125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-45555450661517836352024-02-23T07:53:00.005-06:002024-02-26T10:03:48.280-06:00To Die as an Athlete<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Yes, I am old by most standards. The call is to stay down. Life can really beat you up at this age. Hide out, take your meds, and take it easy. Live out your life quietly. But I don't take any meds. Am I going to have to get sick and go to the doctor and get on meds to be normal for my age? How else can I live a camouflaged old person's life? Isn't this the American dream: to work all your life to build a comfort nest in which to have nothing important to be or do and rest yourself to death? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am an old athlete. It is not important but it is what I do and who I am. God led me to this and I haven't heard Him holler, "Quit, stay down, too old." I still feel like an athlete. given my choice I want to die like an athlete as an athlete. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I guess I will never grow up. I still love the labored breathing of a hard effort, the sweat dripping off my forehead, the euphoric feeling moments after you have done your best. God willing, I can continue to do this until I die, - as an athlete.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-60534331708839029892024-02-18T12:00:00.003-06:002024-02-18T12:00:35.223-06:00Get Up and Be <p> <span style="font-size: large;">Done a lot of doubting lately. Worst of all is that I start doubting myself, whether I have it anymore to pick myself up and face again, the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." I would imagine it was that same heartbreak that Lee suffered when he surrendered, or Santa Anna had to surrender to Sam Houston. Short version: surrender is a heartbreaker. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What about those who didn't surrender in the face of overwhelming odds? The men at the Alamo didn't surrender and died deaths true to their school. They "died with their boots on" so to speak even if their boots may be stolen after they were dead. And they were all dead, literally a dead end. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Texan at Goliad were a lot smarter. They saw how fruitless and futile it would be to try on so they surrendered. They were killed anyway. Surrender was a dead end too. I have often wondered if those poor Texas as they lined up to die, wished they would have fought on even to death </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"> So do I do an Alamo or Goliad? The result will be the same, but in the meantime, it won't be the same and in those last moments, it won't be the same either. Today, I hear the call that I surrender to age and circumstance, to give up triathlon and serious training. Today, this moment, I will answer with a cannon shot from my walls. Today, this moment, I want to make life climb the wall and come and try to take me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Proud words. Now to get up from this table and fight the good fight. </span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-33100808320718956012024-02-16T12:53:00.000-06:002024-02-16T12:53:06.404-06:00Finding Oneself in the Garden<p> <span style="font-size: large;">For years I had a garden. Every year was a process of pulling up all the old plants, taking out the weeds, tearing up the soil, and row up to plant new seeds for the new crop. I have found that life is a lot like that. Sometimes the old and bug-eaten variety of ourselves is not bearing fruit and the only rescue is to pull up the old and plow for change in the new. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I tested positive for COVID-19 again today. This is 10 days, now. I feel good but it's not enough. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What about my quest? What about the half-ironman? What about serious training? I don't like going through this, can you tell? I haven't had a cold in 25 years and this hasn't even had the symptoms of a mediocre cold. I am so blessed to have it this easy but I can still search diligently and find a reason to complain, I guess. Yeah, I am so human. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My self wants to complain. My faith says "All things work together for those that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose." Romans 8:28. God seems to intimate to me that like the torn-up old garden being replanted for spring, something will grow from what you are going through, and it will be you.</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-72597796807957148922024-02-09T09:50:00.001-06:002024-02-09T09:54:29.029-06:00If You Want to Make God Laugh----<p><span style="font-size: large;"> There is a saying: If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans. Now about 4 days into a light case of COVID and with training derailed, the phrase gives pause to ponder. Another big push, another quest, doesn't hold the same value it had even a few days ago. The cause isn't certain, but the miles of the journey have brought me to this location in life attendant with all the lessons this recent situation can teach.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Time will tell if I want to get back on this horse again and do another ride. Back in my drinking days, I had a practice of not making any serious decisions on a Monday. So, no new announcement. I am circling the airport waiting for instructions from the Life Traffic Controller.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"One of the hardest decisions you ever make in life is choosing to walk away or try harder."</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-62219272041624313832024-02-06T10:56:00.004-06:002024-02-06T10:56:53.765-06:00Go Die on the Mountain<p> <span style="font-size: large;">My 80 years have not been lived without learning something. I haven't been asleep in my recliner all these years, you know. Now, to add to advanced age, snail-like run pace. Unstable and often painful knee, no road experience in over a year on the bike, and on and on, ad nauseam. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now, to discourage me further, and send me off to permanent retirement in reclinerville, to become and a fearful follower of the media, here comes COVID. My wife and son are down with and having been exposed, I wait my turn for a little more misery. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">While it is early in this quest that I haven't even explained yet, this certainly is a hope dasher, taking away a lot of the rah-rah that great beginnings often have. Whatever is trying to stop me is surely making it easier to quit. But I have found that easy roads seldom lead anywhere really worth going to. It's the climbs that make the course. So, when and if I get COVID and, God willing, I recover from it, I'm still going for the climb. One can die on the mountain, or melt away like ice cream on a hot day in a recliner.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-83562122673338240672024-02-03T13:05:00.002-06:002024-02-03T13:05:47.716-06:00Share My Journey<p> <span style="font-size: medium;">I hope this lasts. The feeling keeps coming back: God is not finished with me yet. This is just going to be an exercise in faith but I am hard on the trail of "going to be." I don't see how I am going to do this but with God all things are possible. The plan is just to give God my best and leave results to Him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">I haven't even been on a road bike in a year and a half, and I have signed up for a half-ironman event. I have swam in 8 months. But there is a peace about it. There seems no good alternative but to try, to train, to believe.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">There will be more in the vein of a formal announcement where I lay out my plans and my hopes and dreams. Such an announcement will sort of burn my bridges behind me so I don't think losing heart and slinking off will be easy. I am just a man, subject to all the frailties of our species. Share my journey. God bless.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-64341192249280971972024-01-16T18:11:00.006-06:002024-01-16T18:11:45.739-06:00You Can Do This<p> <span style="font-size: large;">There never was a better time. You can do this. Don't look to the right or left. Put all force forward, one step ahead of the other. Don't quit; don't make excuses to retreat to ease and comfort. Embrace the pain. It's part of life. Grit your teeth. Deal with it. Don't be humbled by it. Be humbled only by God and all He can do with even poor material like you. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Move on, keep moving on; forward. Accept His help. Depend upon His promises no matter what today looks like. Live out your faith in trust in Him to get you through this no matter what happens. Nevertheless. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You are tempted for lesser days on every side by family, friends, social media, and mostly your own lack of courage and laziness. Get over yourself and your comfort and conformity addiction. Move on. Your prayers have been answered with "Trust me." You can do this. Praise God and keep moving forward.</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-28692189008720763422024-01-15T12:31:00.001-06:002024-01-15T12:31:06.846-06:00Cold Thoughts- For the Good Days<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Ice on the steps and I am wondering when the power will go off. With all the high-tech new and improved plastic everything, I wonder why, more than ever, we have trouble keeping the power on. So, I am stuck in the house, thankful for a fireplace and the hope that winter won't last forever. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I did a couple hours on my trainer bike last night which left me hopeful. Today, I am living the old man in me, and need to get moving. I haven't done much but read, check my phone, and take a nap. If this is a normal day for an 80-year-old, I really won't make that turn in life well. I don't know how people do it. Maybe they just feel worse than I do? Maybe illness and disability over time have taken the stinger out of the bee in their lives.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And two, I don't see how folks live up north where this weather as normal winter fare. So I have sat here, thought about it, and written myself into feeling blessed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I am blessed I have that hot coal in my heart that wants more, that is intensely dissatisfied with lethargic living. I am blessed to live where I do, where this kind of raw weather will pass into beautiful days; days for good training; days outside with good people who care for me. God thank you for the hope within in me - for the good days, now and every more.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-66139478489640277372024-01-01T20:01:00.005-06:002024-01-01T20:07:02.816-06:00Ironman Waco 70.3 - Silly Me I Think It Will be OK<p> <span style="font-size: large;">How can this be? A new beginning and the first fresh day of a new year and I forgot to do my strength and flexibility regimen. I also messed around until it was too late to do my indoor bike ride. So, the New Year's question is: am I really that committed to going all in for a half-ironman event. It doesn't look like it from here, today, no, not at all.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I don't seem all spun up over my negligent behavior. Maybe I really don't want this bad enough? Maybe I know I am over the hill and realize that this is all one big facade where I try to act like a younger man without significant injuries? But it is most likely part of the wisdom that comes with all this aging stuff. Silly me, I think it will be OK. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, I did run on my trails for the first time in a few weeks. Painful but tolerable, not bad. Glad I faced that one down for now. Plus, I did about 40 minutes of good mountain bike riding. I split firewood for a spell and worked with my tractor before coming in for the night. So, the day wasn't a complete waste. I ate clean today and feel good as I ready for bed. I am at peace about my half-Ironman 70.3 training, as it is months away. And I gave all this to God, win, lose, or whatever, a long time ago. Since it is essentially out of my hands, Silly me, <b>I think it will be OK.</b></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhkrKZahNyzAVJSsF7gq1MSQ3OCPTzEW4pkKCwX88jP5JZcT-B7Z8TRhDACNaEe9NtLnE74FUVexn_iWiXatk6o8eu3OeJs51aoGpVqOJ376AQdZeE3M7JuB1XcUb0ovi-bFfJDXgzE9C3ZqiwD0dh8T6hAeIN74bjx9UQGKh6dBzJUCZe15DashEgM8/s320/Sunrise%20again%20at%20our%20place.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="240" data-original-width="320" height="397" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivhkrKZahNyzAVJSsF7gq1MSQ3OCPTzEW4pkKCwX88jP5JZcT-B7Z8TRhDACNaEe9NtLnE74FUVexn_iWiXatk6o8eu3OeJs51aoGpVqOJ376AQdZeE3M7JuB1XcUb0ovi-bFfJDXgzE9C3ZqiwD0dh8T6hAeIN74bjx9UQGKh6dBzJUCZe15DashEgM8/w530-h397/Sunrise%20again%20at%20our%20place.JPG" width="530" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-86006756684362540912023-12-18T20:47:00.005-06:002023-12-25T11:38:26.907-06:00I Will Praise Him Even in the Storm - Ironman Waco 70.3 2024<p><br /> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1effQH8hWbLP4HLsmjRxcc4-w9PO5RG_l4p65wKNH_y60CshbQuwME46gcNM4czPzHgXKXOihIUdWNCY_wJOUkow8owj6Pr5Tp95BQ-GbYdkJliVEiM22Ct8hxM2D2sOVGhVvdVrbxdj3NVU3bKCYQwTEHyZT1JDWicpkPj94HqbYlhOO_gbDB04W5A/s640/IMG_6970.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv1effQH8hWbLP4HLsmjRxcc4-w9PO5RG_l4p65wKNH_y60CshbQuwME46gcNM4czPzHgXKXOihIUdWNCY_wJOUkow8owj6Pr5Tp95BQ-GbYdkJliVEiM22Ct8hxM2D2sOVGhVvdVrbxdj3NVU3bKCYQwTEHyZT1JDWicpkPj94HqbYlhOO_gbDB04W5A/w466-h466/IMG_6970.JPG" width="466" /></a><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">'</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here I go off onto the water of training for an event. From the photo you can see I don't have a rudder, and I don't have an oar. I am pointing to the source of my power upon this water. There will be storms and there will be waves. My boat will take on water, and I will grow weary from weathering the storms. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">But</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">There is no other place I would rather be than trusting God past my own limits; to see Him work miracles within me where before I could see only commonplace ho-hum purposeless existence. There is a certain peace with all this, a confident calm not with myself but within the sheltering arms of my God. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">If I don't live long enough to make the starting line, I will praise God that I had this moment to point to the sky with my life and surrender all to Him. If I make it to the starting line, I will praise God for letting me get to know that feeling of gratitude and accomplishment.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyJoWrb6URsGeXKSF9JYp1jAOOvItIBWRVGwkTiDadiLNWzESMnAnGKKdadl-gvoEYodkl7O4l_P9GfZNIynk0QwUatgL1MX14BeiikiTwKboLxZbYlKqq_Ml6_UqvDjLhuKJEVA_cnT7rfYIqJqVdG8CTT444WdbvIF13l252Oup2nSXcMdXuQixSH8/s640/Shirt%20waco%2070.3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="389" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSyJoWrb6URsGeXKSF9JYp1jAOOvItIBWRVGwkTiDadiLNWzESMnAnGKKdadl-gvoEYodkl7O4l_P9GfZNIynk0QwUatgL1MX14BeiikiTwKboLxZbYlKqq_Ml6_UqvDjLhuKJEVA_cnT7rfYIqJqVdG8CTT444WdbvIF13l252Oup2nSXcMdXuQixSH8/w292-h389/Shirt%20waco%2070.3.jpg" width="292" /></a></div></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whatever happens on the way to Ironman 70.3 Waco October 6th </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">I will praise Him</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">https://booklocker.com/books/12152.html</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-6958347701028435402023-12-01T10:37:00.001-06:002023-12-04T11:51:15.771-06:00"I Am In"<p><span style="font-size: large;"> T</span><span style="color: #1f497d; font-size: large;">he last few
moments before the start of a triathlon are the most tense. Sure, you are
trained. You are ready. You can swim OK. But even knowing all this, there will be an element of doubt and tension. The devil will bring
his worry to the party for you. But it's practically too late. He should have tried harder, and inflicted more doubt early because now you are in, no going back. The training, the waiting are over, and something big enough to scare you and inspiring enough to make you grow is about to begin. As they count off the minutes for your swim
wave to thrash water, it seems like it will never begin. </span></p><p><span style="color: #1f497d; font-size: large;"> Then, the
gun sounds and it is on. You are in! Water is splashing on your face. You are bumping and rolling against other swimmers in the forward motion to the first buoy. How great. It feels like it's where I should be at this very moment in time. Take another hard swim stroke. Yes! let’s go, I am in. </span></p><p><span style="color: #1f497d; font-size: large;">Thank you, God for this passion to follow, to be challenged, by and to ultimately enjoy, and grow from it. But, most of all thank you for the Faith journey I am on, for the passion, to be challenged by, and to grow from. And, when I cross my final finish line, I can look to heaven and say, "I am in." </span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-20771609399302039612023-10-21T12:25:00.005-05:002023-10-21T12:25:46.684-05:0080 Years Old 81 Push Ups ...God Has Been Good to Me<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Historic"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">God has been good to me<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 16.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Historic"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Historic"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Last year in September I had a bad
bike wreck, with multiple injuries. One was the right wrist. I wore a brace on
it for a while and eventually, I could use it a little. My morning exercise at
that time included 30 push ups and I gave that up as the wrist would not
support that activity. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Historic"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">But God was good and eventually I
managed a couple push ups on the wrist. I kept adding pushups as I could stand
it. On December 7th of this year, God willing I will be 80 years old. I had
this goal of doing 80 pushups before my 80th birthday. Well today, I did 81 -
one extra in case I won't be here next year. They weren't pretty but I got them
done. I have been trying without much success to lose weight and today I
certainly wished I would have had more success. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: "inherit",serif; font-size: 18.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Segoe UI Historic"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">Praise God.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size: 18pt;"> </span> </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-45108234599331460912023-08-25T16:37:00.008-05:002023-10-14T11:41:36.392-05:00Pray for Courage or My Song Will be Left Unsung?<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #666666;"> </span></i></b><span><b><i><span style="color: #666666;">The day before Labor Day</span></i></b> </span><span>, will mark one year since my bad bike wreck. During that year I have only been on a road bike once for about a mile. Seems I left something back there on that road: my courage. </span><span> The thought of riding on the road again makes me quite anxious. it was a long and painful journey to recovery. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yeah sure, I know the rah-rah and all the dialogue regarding this issue like, "All we have to fear is fear itself." The Bible is full of "fear nots" that I skim on by. Maybe now I have a better understanding of the fears other people, but it doesn't resolve my own.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some braver day I will have to do what John Blaise said to do on that Ironman video: "Face your fears and live your dreams." As I approach 80 years of age, most of my athletic dreams involve a road bike to some extent. Sure, I know, the memory of all the pain must be dealt with or part of life will go unlived. I don't have the time left to be weak of heart, to leave my song left unsung. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps my first real road ride could be planned for the day before Labor Day, the one-year anniversary of that bad wreck. Maybe that day can be as much a beginning as it was an ending. I'll pray about that. I'll pray for courage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-52423963174059422522023-08-07T17:46:00.001-05:002023-08-09T21:21:20.869-05:00 The Whisper Seems to Say<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Every fiber of reason in me tells me let this go. And I have prayed fervently about this and finished with "Nevertheless let thy will be done." Surely His will is for reason to prevail. "God is not the author of confusion." However, I am confused. So, who is writing this script; me or God? Even when not thinking about doing Ironman Texas, the possibility creeps into my thoughts like a siren song. I don't get it. I am not terribly motivated to do Ironman Texas anymore. There are all kinds of good things I have planned to do during that time, that seem good and satisfying. Why do these haunting thoughts continue to disturb my peace? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>The thought that keeps coming up is to do a "Give it to God" training campaign. That is, despite being 80 years old, haven't ridden the road bike outside in almost a year, haven't ran farther than 4 miles in the past six months, having a perpetual "train wreck" of a left knee, despite all this and more, </span><span>the w</span><span>hisper seems to say to go on, sign up and just let God handle this entirely. Give it to God. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The whisper seems to say this: "You are right. It is a mega-longshot, pretty much an impossibility. You are pretty well done before you start. So why not give up to begin with and give the outcome to God. Go on! Step out in faith. Let God carry you until He says enough. You could chronicle it for those whose interest might be peaked, who might be inspired and moved closer by what God can do with little or nothing. The worst that can happen is that you wear yourself out and fail for God."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I think: wouldn't it be better to pour yourself out and fail for God than to succeed for yourself? Now I am scared as well as confused.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-56506979394415508192023-07-26T13:39:00.001-05:002023-07-26T14:01:28.253-05:00Please Tell Me Again.<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Tell me again. Tell me again that I am too old. Remind me again that I have AFIB. Tell me again I have a train wreck of a left knee. Runing or even walking 26 miles on that would be a horror show. Oh Lord, Tell me again. I don't seem to get it. So, tell me again. Remind me again of the struggle I would inflict on my family. Tell me again I have not been riding my bike outside in over a year. Oh Lord, put some sense into me and tell me again to forget this triathlon stuff. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oh I need to be refreshed on all the good things I could be doing for God if I didn't bury myself to brain-dead in ironman training. I need that one word for God. "STOP" Or how about three words, "LET IT GO!!" But I haven't heard it and I go on sort of mentally disabled with "What if" thoughts. It doesn't do me any good to go on hungering for the opportunity to do an expensive self-destruct. Oh Lord quiet my heart. Tell me</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Tell me again. Maybe this time I'll get it</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-87716710835095377422023-07-18T11:50:00.003-05:002023-07-18T11:50:55.416-05:00When I Am Me Again<p> <span style="font-size: large;">The Miles of the Journey seem tedious and weighty at times. A departure to a rest stop seems soothing at first. However, there is a tension over time that builds and builds. The antidote to that tension, for me, seems to be vigorous exercise, letting go of worldly responsibilities and other people's issues, and just go out with your hair on fire, and start again on the Miles of the Journey. There is a sort of a peace that comes with that afterwards and it is like I know, beyond any doubt, that that was right. It was right where I belonged in that moment in time. I was truly alive in my life. I was me again. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This is crazy stuff, I know. And I could gloss it over with smattering of normalcy, but all the cover up won't make this any different. No apology; I am just this way. I must move and move regularly and purposefully to be at peace with myself in the long haul. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But age says slow down and I feel so out of place with others my age. I don't take any medicine. So I don't have that in common with most my age. I don't go to doctors very often or have procedures. Common ground is hard to come by with people my age. If I say to much about how I feel about things and what I do, the curtain ggoes up. How could I ever convey the joy of pouring yourself out in training to those who are disabled to greater or lesser degrees? And I don't think they really want to hear it. At my age, fitness and health can put you in a lonely spot. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">However, the end game is that I am grateful for my health and fitness. I am immensely grateful, grateful to God for given me this life and this health. And the lonely nature of my lifestyle pulls me closer to Jesus as a friend. "What a friend we have in Jesus," the song goes. Indeed, what a friend who has been my friend during these wonderful Miles of the Journey</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-39305391150508060512023-07-09T17:41:00.004-05:002023-07-09T17:41:59.360-05:00Born-Again Loser<p><span style="font-size: large;">I</span><span style="font-size: large;">s that me out there? Was I out there rocking and rolling in the water and waves with other souls of similar nature? Will I ever be in a crowd like this again? Do I REALLY want to be out there? Does it hold the same passion, the same challenge, the same adventure as it did in younger years? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This doesn't look as comfortable as my recliner does. This is a lot more tiring than visiting, sitting, and discussing how the world is going to hell in a handbasket or the latest in dietary considerations. Yeah, this looks like it could hurt and there could be a risk involved. Why take risks when you don't have to? Save your life from that distress. You are old and worn out. What are you thinking anyway? Do I really want to do this anymore? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The photo below stirs an old musty memory of being out there in the fray, feeling keenly alive. This memory is so unlike recliner and conversation duty where I feel somewhere between very comfortable and very tired, half alive and half dead and ready for bed. The comfort of going through life, even at my age, and just checking the "being good" boxes of life is obviously not going to be enough for this old and restless spirit. The Bible says, "Whosoever shall save his life shall lose it. And, whosoever shall lose his life for my sake shall find it." I will have to find this again or something else of similar passion and challenge. Yeah, maybe I am to be a loser for God and "run the race that is set before me." Praise God, I am a born-again loser. </span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLiYFJQJNfRzNi-TNx2r20kb9oe0QgVAu-eSObra-Fv6tzmzTF-tAfkkIHbcz4cXtXaBKw_pAx0bao_0nP2hPfExoYZwppvD7KmkFT-IOgBD2LVqQF4HO4EHZ_F2mNezsgl36FX-1ZhGtL9WU5yxfzfeyKsG2FWQFpbw6T9SrEjBkJbU6VIN9k7ugeVvI/s398/METRO%20JUN%2011.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="298" data-original-width="398" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLiYFJQJNfRzNi-TNx2r20kb9oe0QgVAu-eSObra-Fv6tzmzTF-tAfkkIHbcz4cXtXaBKw_pAx0bao_0nP2hPfExoYZwppvD7KmkFT-IOgBD2LVqQF4HO4EHZ_F2mNezsgl36FX-1ZhGtL9WU5yxfzfeyKsG2FWQFpbw6T9SrEjBkJbU6VIN9k7ugeVvI/w477-h358/METRO%20JUN%2011.jpg" width="477" /></a></div><p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-91473634490424985432023-06-27T19:09:00.001-05:002023-06-27T19:09:05.025-05:00Trying to Give Up Who You Are <p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Stress
shouldn’t be a factor, but it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>living a quiet, comfortable life of retirement
from work and now from endurance sports…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I should be less stressed, but I’m not. Little things perturb me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People easily disappointment me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel tension in my body that I cannot put
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tension has no reason to be
there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is like I am frustrated from a
hunger that haunts me like a ghost.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">After months
now of countless doctor visits, and procedures, and operations on my loved
ones, I feel all doctored out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It a
push-pull thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I feel so blessed
to be able to be there for my loved ones; while it is a blessing to be of good
health to do all this, I know a lot of my health is due to my former lifestyle
in endurance sports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">About the
time I feel good about helping others, that selfish side of me raises its head
to say, “What about me? Do I get any perks here in this life or do I have to be
patient and wait for the next?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know
what to do for others, but what do I do for me, to keep me viable?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is wrong with me?<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It’s evident
to me that I am not taking retirement from endurance sports that well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far, it’s changed me not for the better
but toward the bitter. This skin doesn’t fit me that well at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With no more war to fight I fear I might get
sick if I can’t come out of this dead zone, I seem to be in.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Maybe if I
keep on with resignation and retirement, I will eventually adjust and adapt,
much like training adapts one to endurance sports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe I will eventually not feel my chains at
all and be at peace with a normal life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Somehow, I doubt all that because, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>praise God, I have tasted it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I got through all that and I will get through
this, thanks be to God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no matter
how hulled out, beat up, disabled, old and useless and pathetically normal I
get, I will always look back on who I was, smile, and be my own hero. <o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-69742844131767584282023-06-08T11:49:00.003-05:002023-06-08T16:54:40.853-05:00Give It Up; Move On?<p> </p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My triathlon life seems to be gone yet I can't quit mourning the loss. I see pictures of triathletes and read about events and such and still feel a part. I still feel connected like I still can and I could but. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wish God would give me a firm answer to my prayers about this. I seem to get more "give it up and move on" feed back than anything but I am just not sure. Maybe I just having trouble accepting that. However, every day there is a situation which provokes the "give it up for real, and move on" feeling. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Scary too is the "who will I be" question. It seems a sort of cowardice I can't accept of myself well, to just fall out of the sky and drift to earth. I know God put this passion for personal challenge and adventure within me. Does He want me to give that up? I can't believe He does. Maybe that is what I want to believe so I can keep on trying?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Others have harder problems, I know. In the larger scheme of things my piddling questions about whether or not to give up a sport, are way down there on the food chain of importance. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But endurance sports is such an integral part of my faith life. I prary a lot out there. I pray for those in much greater need than I. Sometimes when my prayer list of the suffering is long, I pray for each person, from one road sign or bridge abatement, then pray for another on a similar stretch of road. There has never been a shortage of people to pray for. There is so much need in this world and here I am whining because I can't do triathlons anymore...Or, maybe I can. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-152751117714032142023-06-01T12:11:00.005-05:002023-06-07T14:35:13.209-05:00It Hurts<p><span style="font-size: large;"> Embracing pain and the feeling is let go. Let the pain control you and your life. It's Ok. Everyone has to do that at one time or the other. Sooner or later it happens. In life sometimes, every step a sharp, painful reminder that it is just your turn to hurt and you are done for anything remotely approaching the activity level of your former life. It's all over for you. Time to just find a place to sit down and relieve the pain. Can I do that? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I could have a knee replacement, I guess. But with a knee replacement I wouldn't be able to run anymore. I am not really running anymore anyway. How can I call myself doing anything now remotely approaching what one would call running?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Running used to be my go-to sport. The easy gait for miles and miles was a wonderful experience. Now running is quite a painful experience; a regular painfest, sort of a test to see how much pain you can take for how long. Running is a dreaded pursuit. It hurts. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But it hurts to give up on this old friend even though this old friend seems to have turned against me and our relationship isn't the best right now. I want so bad to hold on to running, but it hurts. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And this has been prayed over many times and all I hear is the wind and all I know is that it hurts. So maybe that is my answer; not great words or parting of the sea or anything like that. Maybe my answer is that nagging, stabbing pain which may be saying move on. If that is answer from God, that will hurt too.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And, then again, the unanswered prayer may mean: suck it up, take another step, do it. I know...it hurts.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-67333912841238131762023-05-14T13:49:00.002-05:002023-05-29T12:25:28.051-05:0080 Years Old - Taking the Risk to be Myself.<p><span style="font-family: arial;"><span style="font-size: large;"> It seems that t</span><span style="font-size: large;">he older you get the more one is expected to conform to conventional wisdom about age. But what if they are wrong? Who are "they" anyway. As I approach 80 years old I find it hard to "stay down" and cultivate my old age like a garden. At almost 80 there is still a fire down there. As my dad used to say, "There is snow on the rooftop but there is a fire in the furnace." </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">The more I read and experience, and the more I observe those my age, the more I hear about how everything goes downhill with body and mind when you get this age. And, there is not much use in trying to fight it. It just is. Accept my fate and behave myself and die properly on time. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">Why? If I am on a slippery slide to death, what's to lose. Oh, you are old and you could hurt yourself, "they" may say. Goodness, but you can hurt yourself at any age. If all that's left to life is pain, and pills, followed by death, where is the scare in hurting yourself?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">And conventional wisdom says don't do too much exercise at your age. Again, you could hurt yourself. But, according to what I have read and experienced, it appears exercise is needed more in older ages, maybe more, than younger age groups. People stop moving as they accept the old age scripts someone else has written for them. They move less and worry more as they watch scare tactic media, reporting every day a new way that the sky is falling. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">So, if we are doomed because of old age and doomed because of things going on in the world, why not move more, risk more, create more, be more than you are expected to be. It's not to late for dreams but dreams don't work unless you do. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;">I want to take the risk to be myself. God give me the strength and keep me in your care. amen.</span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-81013940843973381432023-04-06T16:25:00.002-05:002023-08-19T10:37:18.713-05:00What Living in the Sloth Jacket is Like<p><span style="font-size: medium;"> Lethargy began by me taking my foot off the gas. That somehow seems to be what people do when they reach a certain state in life or age. Don't I want to be like other people? Aren't we hard-wired for that? We like to be loved and noticed but from the safety of camouflaged lives. Safety first. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Now, months into limited training, the sloth jacket fits me quite well. And the peace and comfort it brings me, makes me wonder why would I ever go back to living a life with my hair on fire? Life is easy, comfortable, quiet, not confrontational, and almost effortless. Wasted time goes flying by. Days pass and I wonder what I did with them except consume. How wonderful to be so disengaged with effort in life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">This has been going on so long I don't seem to miss the wars anymore. I am like a lion in a cage that had the door left open but never left. The cage is just too quiet, easy, and comfortable to leave. It all seems like a kind of peaceful death I don't regret anymore. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">But, in the recesses of what wilder spirit left in me, there is a spark of wonder. Could I start that fire again and make it blaze like before? And if I did that, would I be happy in it anymore. Or would I saunter on back to my cage to comfortably wait the end? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Lots of questions. No real answers. I think I will go for a trainer ride.</span></p><p><br /></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-54727436529289472202023-02-16T11:01:00.006-06:002023-02-18T13:36:33.458-06:00CHALLENGING THE DRIFT<p> We have done an intermittent fast the last couple of days. So far, not much change. It does add structure to life, that is, trying to figure out when to eat and still get all the other stuff in life done. But I would imagine, that that exercise is good for life structure as well. </p><p>Right now without structured training, some form of life-structure could be a real asset. I remember fishing far down the river and we broke the prop off the motor. We were left to drift with the current down the river, away from home. It is a helpless feeling at the mercy of the current swept along where you would not have chosen to go. Life seems sort of like that sometimes and I don't like it. And, I suppose when I don't like it enough, when I come to myself , I will do something to fight aimless drifting and challenge the drift. </p><p>Drifting powerless down river is a helpless feeling but it doesn't have to stay that way. The main thing is not to turn that momentary "helpless" into a full time "hopeless." </p><p>We picked up the paddles and made our way to shore. With each taking turns pulling the boat by the bow line, we waded tiresome miles against the current pulling the boat finally to home. I can do that. God give me the strength, the will, to pick up my paddle and make for shore. The way will be hard and tiresome but it is the only way to true home.</p><p>Never give up. God is still working. Are you?</p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-64118022965338298512023-02-12T10:19:00.002-06:002023-02-12T10:19:37.927-06:00Running the Last Lap Well<p> In the words of James Brown, "I feel good." For someone checking off this year to 80 years old, it seems out of place to feel this good. I think the fast had something to do with it, but I think overall lifestyle has something to do with it as well. I eat whole food, plant based and try to limit stress and aggravation as much as possible. </p><p> I know at this age that I don't have a long term lease on this apartment but I want to live as much real life as I can right up until the day my lease is up. So, I going all in on what I love, while I have health and ability. As I lean into life to wring its last succulent drop of nectar, these are the things I want to do:</p><p>I want to be active: <span> </span>doing hard physical work; tough mental work; training. </p><p>I want to be brave:<span> confronting what scares me like in triathlon and other endurance sports.</span></p><p><span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> confronting what disturbs my spirit and lessens my ability to live out my <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>remaining<span> </span>days<span> well. </span></span><br /></span></p><p><span><span><span>I want to be loving:<span> </span><span> Not holding back but expressing love felt. Leaving no love unsaid.</span></span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span><span>I want to risk more:<span> </span><span> I really have nothing to lose anyway. Why hold back? I am going to sign up <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>for<span> </span>a half Ironman at this time when I have trouble walking. I want to some <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>sprint triathlons before that. Tall order for a limping old man. But I have found <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>God in those struggles over the years and succeed or fail, I know I will find <span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Him in my efforts and --------------------</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span><span>I want to be closer still to God - As I am more or less packing for the trip to His house, I want to have an even more intimate relationship with Him. I intend to pray more and have cause to smile more, laugh more, and live more until I am called to my true home.</span></span></span></span></p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5768864484024943517.post-36096515121808646522023-02-10T10:43:00.002-06:002023-02-10T10:43:26.606-06:00 The Fast Continues - The Final Phase of Self-Denial<p style="text-align: left;">Only 7 1/2 hours to go on this 48 hour fast. Amazing how much easier it is when you have some time and experience in this. At first, I was looking for snacklets all the time. At first, I was thinking food at breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was supposed to be. The paradigm seems to have shifted a bit and a newer habit is in the works. It probably won't be enough time in to become permanent, but the effect surely can't be missed in modifying future eating habits. But this is good. However, I do notice that I get fatigued more easily from my morning exercise. There is an underlying shaky that I am not used to. </p><p style="text-align: left;">I think this is good endurance training. It trains the mind in the habits of foregoing present comfort for a future goal. It can teach sacrifice and self-denial, important in endurance sports and in relationship with others. Sometimes, love is going to cost something. We need to know we can pay that price. This can be the parent/child relationships, or an elder relative that needs that love and care that requires sacrifice and self-denial. That's what God wants of us. </p><div class="blogger-post-footer">Weary is the path that does not challenge</div>Miles of the Journeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00295194313811880472noreply@blogger.com0