The Bad Patch

Life is often a hilly course. Sometimes in the valleys, looking up at the steepness of the hill and the distance to the top, our resolve weakens, our courage softens, and dreams can give way to the urge to avoid any more discomfort.

Last week was overcomer's week.
Monday was a brutal day of four disciplines leaving residual fatigue for the Tuesday 40 mile ride and brick run.
Tuesday , tired already. Out on the ride as early as mile ten, I started to sag. I didn’t want to go on. Maybe I will just do twenty and rest up? When I get back at the truck, do I quit or hang on? It is a ten mile out and back course and the ride back to the truck seemed to take forever. I was so tired; tired of being on the bike. My thoughts went continually went back to a nice shower, a soft recliner, and rest. Finally back at the truck, I got something to eat, lots to drink, and began to feel better. Maybe?
Isn’t this is where it is at? I am training for an ironman, for goodness sakes. Did I expect to feel rested all the time? I am training to endure fatigue, and here I have a massive dose and I want to take it to the house and rest? Do you want to be an ironman or a recliner jockey ? Which one do you think God is calling you out to be? Maybe I will just do the 40 miles and just skip the run? I am not sure my injured knee will hold up anyway. Whatever ! Just get back on the bike and get out there!

The legs soon found a rhythm, a good spin. The bike moving very well. Energy was returning. The wind was in my face; turn-around, the wind is at my back. I was soaring. And I was a little surprised it was over so soon. Having forgotten all about hedging on my workout, I grabbed my cap, a fresh water bottle and was out running on the road. It hurt some, but at the same time, there was a certain rush to enduring into discomfort. And, I ended the run with a smile. Thank you God!

Two days later, I had a 70 mile bike ride scheduled, but the first twenty really took it out of me. This time, though, I did not consider hedging my workout with a retreat to the recliner. Instead, I thought of ways to work through this bad patch. And I did. There was another bad patch at miles 45-50 more or less, but I got through that one too. It was almost as if I were training in bad patch intervals. For once, I had the sense that I was indeed, I am training for an ironman.

Two days later was my dreaded long run. Previous knee problems had me timid and afraid in the face of this long run. The bad patch was right at the beginning. Everything seemed to hurt. I was so tired, already. I almost called it quits the first quarter mile.

Keep moving, you are training for an ironman. This is just a phase; a mood. Keep moving. Learn to endure more, then endure more. You said you would try. You said you would train. Is “your honor greater than your moods. Yes!

And the running got better. The discomfort got stowed away. I was into the moment. I was enduring. I was totally alive. Thank God.
And today, I am mentally, personally, and spiritually closer to being ready for my ironman attempt than I have ever been. But today, I am also terribly tired. Ironman training seems to be a series of hill repeats in fatigue tolerance.
Life is a hilly course. What applies to ironman, applies to life. There will be fatigue, self-doubts, discomfort: there will be bad patches in everyone’s life. But, in pushing through to the other side, in going on, confronting the bad patches, the fears , and failures, we can become the persons God called us to be, and live out our faith in the promise of that great finish line for all those who believe.

"Behold, we count them happy which endure.---------------"
James 5:11

Waiting For My New Blessing

I have been injured for most of this year. Can't remember the last time I ran without at least some pain. Running once was my passion, my get-away zone, my freedom-feeling time. But now it has been reduced to something to be endured. Once a good friend; now, often feels like and overwhelming enemy. Yesterday photos of me running have been taken down from my wall. I just don't want to remember; just don't want to go there. It breaks my heart to see photos of others striding out. I would so love to do that again. Yes, I appreciated that ability when I had it, but not nearly as much as I would appreciate it now if I had back.

Life is like that too. Amazing how endurance sports easily becomes a metaphor for life. Blessings come into our lives, stay awhile, then they are gone, no matter how much we want them to stay. But, life resupplies. The empty space left by the departure of one blessing, can be filled with another one. God is faithful. Who knows how this will flesh out? Who knows how that empty spot of present heartache will be filled. Adventure can be right there on the dawning of the new day. So, I wait patiently, expectantly, hopefully, and prayerfully for my new blessing, or my new quest, or the restoration of the old blessing I love so much and so long.

"You Made My Day"

"I hope I can be doing this when I am your age." That is something I get all the time when I am being passed on the run of a triathlon. Perhaps, it is inspiring? Perhaps it is a testament to the fruits of long-term perseverance? Perhaps seeing some old dinosaur plugging along at turtle's pace lifts the spirit and brightens the hopes of others? Perhaps, it helps make their day.

The other night I visited my 99 year old mother in the nursing home. Upon leaving, as we hugged, she patted me on the back and told me she was so glad I came. "You made my day." What a great thing to consider that my meager love offering of time could make someone's day. My, what power for good, for engendering hope must we possess to make another's day better. Yet, how many days in the lives of others have I left unmade. How many times have I neglectful, consumed with my own race; making my own day; my own ego? How many opportunities to impact for good have I squandered? I pray that at the end of it all, I will have made more days in the lives of others than I have neglected.

Service is the virtue that distinguished the great of all times and which they will be remembered by. It places a make of nobility upon its disciples. It is the dividing line which separates the two great groups of the world—those who help and those who hinder, those who lift and those who lean, those who contribute and those who only consume. How much better it is to give than to receive. Service in any form is comely and beautiful. To give encouragement, to impart sympathy, to show interest, to banish fear, to build self confidence and to awaken hope in the hearts of others, in short –to love them and to show it---is to render the most precious service.
Bryant S. Hinckley

Again Trusting

It seems I have been injured all year. Looking back over my log and journal, there aren't many painless days. This blog spikes with one resolution to continue after another. Sometimes, I really wonder. Sometimes, I fade in my faith. But, all times thus far, I have pulled up, found the faith, the trust to continue. It has been worth it. Even the bad workout have been good. Even the pain and disappointment have become an endurance effort of their own, like a big hill in every workout.

I know not what lies ahead in the fruition of my efforts. Four complete days off from training did absolutely no good at all. Stuff still hurts. Time to just move on into the half-light of my future capabilities...again, today---trusting.

Brutal Brick

Tuesday got out the door hoping that perhaps the assertion to continue on would somehow prevail over the hurting leg. Perhaps, something special would happen because I just went on with it. It has happened many times before when I was beaten down, injured or discouraged: just move; get out there; things get better on the road.

The bike ride went well. The legs felt strong. Hope opened a blossom. The run was a nightmare. Each foot strike was a smashing pain. I changed the stride. I quickened the gait. Slowed the gate. Landed midfoot, forefoot, heel: pain. I was sweating profusely, not sure if it was because of the activity, the heat, or the pain. And, I had only gone about a quarter mile. Why I am torturing myself?

Oh, it felt so good to stop and just be still a few minutes. I was done. It will be a while before I have the guts to try to run again. I have no idea what the future holds but I know Who holds the future. Now I look at pictures of people running smoothly and I so wish I could. I see pictures of myself running and so wish I could do that again. Perhaps never again; perhaps I will somehow recover. Whatever -- I will be found trusting still.

Staying Loyal - Getting Out the Door

"I Can't Get Started" is the name of an old song. And, the title and the tune pretty much embody how I feel starting this week of training. Where did the "want to" go? My knee is much better, thank God, but I seem lethargic in using and enjoying this gift. Perhaps the new car smell has left the ironman effort and now it is down to the day-to-day, grind it out, ironman training: accolades, no cheering section, no high-fives, just me and the struggle. There is no where to go to blame this on or hide behind. I "have met the enemy and he is me." After all the down time with the injury, I think I have an inertia problem.

"A body at rest tends to stay at rest and a body in motion tends to stay in motion with the same speed and in the same direction unless acted upon by an unbalanced force." ~Newton's First Law of Motion

Write these last lines. Hit "Publish." Get out the door. Just begin because: “It’s difficult to follow your dream. It’s a tragedy not to.”


Commitment means staying loyal to the what you said you were going to do long after the mood you said it in has left you.

The Journey Continues - Trusting More

Trusting doesn’t come easy. When I began this I said I would trust and thus far I have: hanging in; hanging on. It seems I have been injured all year. For a couple months now I have been dealing with knee pain when running, and to a lesser degree, when biking. Afterwards, the knee becomes swollen back and front. It gets better; it gets worse. But it doesn’t go away. The question I never like to seriously ask: is this the end? Is it time to sell my bikes, trash my running shoes and become seriously sedentary until safety, comfort, indulgence and ease kills me? Sounds pretty much like a cure the appetite for life than for a sore knee. The shallow side of me says, lay it down; take it easy. You have done enough. My goodness, Marv. You will soon be 70. You have ran the equivalent of three times around the world . You have biked thousands of miles each year. Look at all the events you have done: all the hard gut checks you had. You deserve it. Eat, drink, and be merry, and when you gain weight, just buy bigger clothes; no problem. All this sounds good sometimes, especially when I am very, very tired or when injuries just come and move in with me or when I just can’t find the right reason right away to pick myself up off the canvas yet one more time. At times like these the easy, good life sounds appealing.

But I wasn’t called to the good life. I have been called to the best life; the best life, to be the best meto be all I can be to utilize the abilities and opportunities God has placed before me, to be all He has called me out to be. And besides all this He said, “trust me” and I said I would.

Did I think this was going to be easy? The orthopedic surgeon said I have some wear on one side of my left knee which could be creating some of the pain and swelling, but I think there is more to it than that. The first run in his brace was a torture tour.
This morning I got up in the dark to prepare for my run. I dreaded what I knew would be a pain fest. And I want to do this? It doesn’t make sense. Trust me. OK, got it. I strapped on my brace on the knee and this time put on a compression brace on the lower leg as well. Very little pain. What? This feels good . I can stride a little bit. I am losing my fear of the next step. I am wearing my wife’s brace. What? Yes, somehow in the dark I had put on the wrong brace and it all “worked together for good.”

Tomorrow, I will still be moving forward and God help me, I will continue to do so until He breaks my legs or brings me through. Whatever – “I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound: everywhere and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” (Phil 4:12-1)

Though he slay me - I have no dependence but God; I trust in him alone. Should he even destroy my life by this affliction, yet will I hope that when he has tried me, I shall come forth as gold.
Job 13:15