Rain Rain go away
come again another day
I've cried and I've prayed
Father wont you come again
Rain Rain fallin from my face
fall again into your place
this seed falling from my eyes
it will fall and it will die
You've turned my morning into dancing
You've turned my sorrow into joy
You've started my heart again romancing
I've sown in tears now reaping songs of joy
Rain Rain you can come again
I never new that you're my friend
The pain and fear that held me tight
I release and give you back your fight
Where do I get my inspiration from?
How does the spirit teach this hardened heart to hear?
A skinned knee
Your rod and staff that comfort me
The release as your loving discipline helps me
Pry my fingers loose
again
You've turned my morning into dancing
You've turned my sorrow into joy
You've started my heart again romancing
I've sown in tears now reaping songs of joy
Rain Rain I don't mind
If you show your face tonight
Neither way will or shine
change Jeremiah 29
Friday, December 4, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Embraces like Bullets
A Friend from place speaks destination,
From city creates fantasy,
Their home, our dream.
Time and conversation
I have food you do not know about...
To do the work of my father.
Love revealed in her.
Dorm of acquaintances,
Barracks of brotherhood,
Home is family,
Friend in fantasy.
Dreams compel hearts and hands
To leave father and mother
Become one flesh
To make home anew
One step closer to heaven
Your kingdom come
Man, master, mission, mate
Genesis as thesis
Jesus the argument
Spirit like breath
GOD as GOD
Father make my destination you
The city on a hill
Not Portland, Nashville, or Paris
My dream, Love is you.
You and I and her
Freedom in labor
Mission minded dreamer
Adrenaline in embraces like bullets,
Grace tangible, the cross
My gun, my books, running shoes.
The resurrection life
Time and conversation
Love revealed in him
For her….my flesh.
From city creates fantasy,
Their home, our dream.
Time and conversation
I have food you do not know about...
To do the work of my father.
Love revealed in her.
Dorm of acquaintances,
Barracks of brotherhood,
Home is family,
Friend in fantasy.
Dreams compel hearts and hands
To leave father and mother
Become one flesh
To make home anew
One step closer to heaven
Your kingdom come
Man, master, mission, mate
Genesis as thesis
Jesus the argument
Spirit like breath
GOD as GOD
Father make my destination you
The city on a hill
Not Portland, Nashville, or Paris
My dream, Love is you.
You and I and her
Freedom in labor
Mission minded dreamer
Adrenaline in embraces like bullets,
Grace tangible, the cross
My gun, my books, running shoes.
The resurrection life
Time and conversation
Love revealed in him
For her….my flesh.
All you need is Love… and a French press.
I have become convinced through the many hours of study, thousands of push ups, and hundreds of songs this season has provided that there is are only a few things needed to be genuinely happy. Love… and a French press.
When I moved away from home 5 and a half months ago I started writing a list of things I am thankful for. As I wrote I realized more and more the value of a dollar and the irreplaceable currency of time. I began to grow in the revealed value of simplicity. I remember distinctly one specific chilly morning in my small cement room where I sat wrapped in shirt upon shirt upon sweatshirt with my French press brewing. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness! I was in new territory…
Back in Bend and only a month before, I had opened my first bank account and dumped all my pennies and dimes in. The day after I joined the ranks of those packin checks and debit cards I needed to make an initial payment for an internship with The City Church in the amount of 1075 dollars. The only money I had been successful in bringing in was from singing songs in a breezeway downtown. Our family has been fighting waves in a financial storm that seems to never end its climb to climax. My parents had been supportive but not gung ho about me moving up to Seattle early. The money was not there to send me but after praying for months about this summer the internship returned over and over again to my heart. I knew it was what God wanted me to do and continued to believe that he could provide. My first little white receipt reporting the sum in my account proclaimed that he did. I had 1086 dollars.
A few weeks later and only days before I was to leave, I had my graduation party and released my little CD needing to make 650 dollars to cover the second payment for the internship. After the songs were sung, food was eaten, and hugs were liberally distributed the party came to a close and I counted opened the gifts. Bill after bill came in and I counted, 100 to 200 to 300…. 656 dollars total! This confirmed it for my Mom and she proclaimed, “God provided and even gave you change for coffee!”
Side note: Listen to your moms! If they are anything like mine they are wise ladies!
Through this process of learning to trust God with finances not only for a family but also personally, I began to realize the importance of thanksgiving. Hence the thank you list! This new territory opened my eyes that morning to remember where God had brought me from and the value of my family. Now I sat where God had brought me and looked at my French press. Steam rose piercing the cold air in my little room with a robust fragrance!
I am not just a lover of coffee and its culture! It symbolizes for me the extravagance of God provision. Coffee is expensive and I cannot afford to do all my studying in the nooks and crannies of coffee shops but even now in my dorm here at SPU, I have my French press. I have the extravagant love of God and he has provided for the big things like school and the little things like coffee. It is a beautiful simplicity that has been revealed freshly in my life. My coffee may be black, I may be in need of a car and a job, but God knows my needs and he provides more than enough! I can trust him with my heart. Big and small issues have become my vehicle for growth. I find that often I could believe for the big stuff like provision to intern but then when I need a power strip I figure I need to find the finances in my own efforts. It got to the point that I needed a spatula and a power strip and prayed. Like ten minutes out of prayer I walked to the trash room and found a spatula, power strip, and a sweat shirt I forgot to ask for. :)
We have no need to worry friends! We have a good dad who is not affected by any economic downturns. He is not even fazed by our lack of faith. He teaches us lovingly and patiently. How beautiful is the simplicity of the Gospel! All we need is Love…. and to respond with a life laced with thankfulness.
When I moved away from home 5 and a half months ago I started writing a list of things I am thankful for. As I wrote I realized more and more the value of a dollar and the irreplaceable currency of time. I began to grow in the revealed value of simplicity. I remember distinctly one specific chilly morning in my small cement room where I sat wrapped in shirt upon shirt upon sweatshirt with my French press brewing. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness! I was in new territory…
Back in Bend and only a month before, I had opened my first bank account and dumped all my pennies and dimes in. The day after I joined the ranks of those packin checks and debit cards I needed to make an initial payment for an internship with The City Church in the amount of 1075 dollars. The only money I had been successful in bringing in was from singing songs in a breezeway downtown. Our family has been fighting waves in a financial storm that seems to never end its climb to climax. My parents had been supportive but not gung ho about me moving up to Seattle early. The money was not there to send me but after praying for months about this summer the internship returned over and over again to my heart. I knew it was what God wanted me to do and continued to believe that he could provide. My first little white receipt reporting the sum in my account proclaimed that he did. I had 1086 dollars.
A few weeks later and only days before I was to leave, I had my graduation party and released my little CD needing to make 650 dollars to cover the second payment for the internship. After the songs were sung, food was eaten, and hugs were liberally distributed the party came to a close and I counted opened the gifts. Bill after bill came in and I counted, 100 to 200 to 300…. 656 dollars total! This confirmed it for my Mom and she proclaimed, “God provided and even gave you change for coffee!”
Side note: Listen to your moms! If they are anything like mine they are wise ladies!
Through this process of learning to trust God with finances not only for a family but also personally, I began to realize the importance of thanksgiving. Hence the thank you list! This new territory opened my eyes that morning to remember where God had brought me from and the value of my family. Now I sat where God had brought me and looked at my French press. Steam rose piercing the cold air in my little room with a robust fragrance!
I am not just a lover of coffee and its culture! It symbolizes for me the extravagance of God provision. Coffee is expensive and I cannot afford to do all my studying in the nooks and crannies of coffee shops but even now in my dorm here at SPU, I have my French press. I have the extravagant love of God and he has provided for the big things like school and the little things like coffee. It is a beautiful simplicity that has been revealed freshly in my life. My coffee may be black, I may be in need of a car and a job, but God knows my needs and he provides more than enough! I can trust him with my heart. Big and small issues have become my vehicle for growth. I find that often I could believe for the big stuff like provision to intern but then when I need a power strip I figure I need to find the finances in my own efforts. It got to the point that I needed a spatula and a power strip and prayed. Like ten minutes out of prayer I walked to the trash room and found a spatula, power strip, and a sweat shirt I forgot to ask for. :)
We have no need to worry friends! We have a good dad who is not affected by any economic downturns. He is not even fazed by our lack of faith. He teaches us lovingly and patiently. How beautiful is the simplicity of the Gospel! All we need is Love…. and to respond with a life laced with thankfulness.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Poetry, Prose, and a Prince in Process
"Sometimes you have to feel the fear and do it anyways."
I feel the fear of team mates more prepared,
drive to win
terror to fail.
My pride, my pride!
I have heard and now believe, "perfect love casts out all fear." I am a fish once large in my bowl now tossed into the sea. What adventure! What unknown! The decision to feed my heart from fear or excitement is in a waltz with the fickle verdict between pride and humility.
Freshmen once again. My choice meets me face to face, moment by moment, day by day.
Will it be Daniel today? The Angelic voice picks him off his face to say.. "Fear not, Daniel, for from the first day that you set your heart to understand and humbled yourself before your God, your words have been heard..."
Is my silence heard? That which is done in secret? Or shall I market my skill? Tell the world what I have done in my little bowl?
Listen here! I was once a big fish!
Times, grades,
height, and weight,
I will sing you my songs!
It is a clean slate.
Terrified by innocence
years since Mind raped Dream.
Forceful terror
exclusive motive.
My Virgil asked me if it was for grade...
or fear...
or for love that I study...
My Dream answers LOVE!
Resume says under its breath... Grades!
And still, Truth makes known to my heart the resonating answer,
it is fear.
I awoke from a dream and knew it was time to run again. After a year off of track and the decision not to run XC this fall at SPU, it was a dream redeemed. To add to the dreams recovered from my passionate youth I have also seen special operations resurrected. The success of these pursuits is tied to the grace of God that allows me to "humble my heart to understand."
The opponent that has proved itself most formidable is that of pride. I find my self set in a new city, a new church, a new school.... no longer in the town of 80 thousand. I had 18 years of tears planted, relationships watered, and respect earned in Bend, Oregon. Now in Seattle, about 3 million strong, with my leadership now caught by the pack.
In the past I have tried to distinguish myself in running with a guitar, in music with a mile time. I don't know if you can sympathize, but that is the truth of my pride. Now that I am in a place where my running is mediocre and I am chasing the team rather than being chased... I have the opportunity to grow. The limiting factor is no longer time, but pride. I find myself afraid to be behind... afraid to feel the pain of the climb. If I could lay down my fear of failure, this pride, I will have growth.
Once again comes the question of motive... why run? For Love? For Grade? For Fear? I believe I can defeat fear as I assault my pride with every race towards Love. In that pursuit I cannot lose for Love is my goal but also my teammate, my coach, and brilliant redeemer.
The character of an endurance person is what I am after. He who endures to the end...
The discipline of embracing restraints to bring freedom is my radical revelation, and my conclusion is that these growing pains are worth the growth. Conscience to creativity! Zeal married to knowledge, and Love that has lost its blindfold!
I have so much I would love to share but my eyes burn with tiredness. The prospect of my Thanksgiving coming to a close causes me to remember the dead lines that rudely continue their request of my time. I love you all and pray that you all seize your opportunities for growth.
Grace and peace!
I feel the fear of team mates more prepared,
drive to win
terror to fail.
My pride, my pride!
I have heard and now believe, "perfect love casts out all fear." I am a fish once large in my bowl now tossed into the sea. What adventure! What unknown! The decision to feed my heart from fear or excitement is in a waltz with the fickle verdict between pride and humility.
Freshmen once again. My choice meets me face to face, moment by moment, day by day.
Will it be Daniel today? The Angelic voice picks him off his face to say.. "Fear not, Daniel, for from the first day that you set your heart to understand and humbled yourself before your God, your words have been heard..."
Is my silence heard? That which is done in secret? Or shall I market my skill? Tell the world what I have done in my little bowl?
Listen here! I was once a big fish!
Times, grades,
height, and weight,
I will sing you my songs!
It is a clean slate.
Terrified by innocence
years since Mind raped Dream.
Forceful terror
exclusive motive.
My Virgil asked me if it was for grade...
or fear...
or for love that I study...
My Dream answers LOVE!
Resume says under its breath... Grades!
And still, Truth makes known to my heart the resonating answer,
it is fear.
I awoke from a dream and knew it was time to run again. After a year off of track and the decision not to run XC this fall at SPU, it was a dream redeemed. To add to the dreams recovered from my passionate youth I have also seen special operations resurrected. The success of these pursuits is tied to the grace of God that allows me to "humble my heart to understand."
The opponent that has proved itself most formidable is that of pride. I find my self set in a new city, a new church, a new school.... no longer in the town of 80 thousand. I had 18 years of tears planted, relationships watered, and respect earned in Bend, Oregon. Now in Seattle, about 3 million strong, with my leadership now caught by the pack.
In the past I have tried to distinguish myself in running with a guitar, in music with a mile time. I don't know if you can sympathize, but that is the truth of my pride. Now that I am in a place where my running is mediocre and I am chasing the team rather than being chased... I have the opportunity to grow. The limiting factor is no longer time, but pride. I find myself afraid to be behind... afraid to feel the pain of the climb. If I could lay down my fear of failure, this pride, I will have growth.
Once again comes the question of motive... why run? For Love? For Grade? For Fear? I believe I can defeat fear as I assault my pride with every race towards Love. In that pursuit I cannot lose for Love is my goal but also my teammate, my coach, and brilliant redeemer.
The character of an endurance person is what I am after. He who endures to the end...
The discipline of embracing restraints to bring freedom is my radical revelation, and my conclusion is that these growing pains are worth the growth. Conscience to creativity! Zeal married to knowledge, and Love that has lost its blindfold!
I have so much I would love to share but my eyes burn with tiredness. The prospect of my Thanksgiving coming to a close causes me to remember the dead lines that rudely continue their request of my time. I love you all and pray that you all seize your opportunities for growth.
Grace and peace!
Earshot Jazz Festival
There are times when I am convinced that jazz in the only methodical madness that can effectively outdo my own mind, will, and emotions. This last Tuesday night was one of those times and I was once again overtaken by the power of good live jazz. I received an unexpected invitation to Earshot Jazz Festival and accepted not knowing Earshot is praised as “one of the best Jazz festivals in America” (Seattle Times). After spending 3 and a half hours attempting to count the complexity of rhythms and being consistently surprised by the beauty of melody lines laced with in, I would whole heartedly agree with the praise.
Not only was the music superb it had a tasteful accompaniment with the atmosphere of the club itself. In my limited experience with jazz clubs it has been rare to find a classy joint without overwhelming smoke and the strong aroma of wine. This was good clean, classy, fun, without compromising the character of the atmosphere. And I must say the fun was aided by the musical and intellectual competency of the young lady I went with. Jazz, Atmosphere, and good conversation...
It was swingin!
Not only was the music superb it had a tasteful accompaniment with the atmosphere of the club itself. In my limited experience with jazz clubs it has been rare to find a classy joint without overwhelming smoke and the strong aroma of wine. This was good clean, classy, fun, without compromising the character of the atmosphere. And I must say the fun was aided by the musical and intellectual competency of the young lady I went with. Jazz, Atmosphere, and good conversation...
It was swingin!
Friday, October 23, 2009
Friend, Fantasy, and Allegiance
With a to-do list the size of Texas and my heart constantly desiring to love anything shinny I find myself a wee bit busy. It is a new busy for me but I still do not have free time enough to do the kind of blogging I have dreamed of. This new busy I would like to describe to you in the first of what I am hoping will be a three part series describing the newness of life. Part 1. Friend, 2. Fantasy, and 3. Allegiance which will be my focus tonight.
When I wake up at 4:30 am after a night of trying to hide away from the traditions of a scandalous floor I wake to the darkness. This darkness I have known before and I have charged into it morning run after morning run as I strained towards my dreams in high school cross country. This darkness and I have become the sort of friends where silence has become the best solace.
When I need to vent my frustrations I beat the air and the pavement, I throw my heart out to the Wind and I bring my body to an endorphin stimulated attention.
In this attention whether prayer be my vehicle, the power of the darkness my cloak, or the breaking of silence my release I come into fellowship with revelation. You know that place, that state of being where human understanding is at its hight yet still you are left with desire? That place I find regularly in philosophy, theology, art, and all the things I love but at that moment of weakness comes revelation.
My revelations have been sometimes to complicated to tell and sometimes to simple in their beauty that I must share them in person or keep them locked in the intimacy of memory and prayerful meditation.
One I will be free to divulge is that of a revelation of my allegiance specifically in the growth and process that Air Fore ROTC has instigated. Our first flight letter was sent out on the second week of SPU classes and I climbed through the thickets of antonyms I found the order to learn the Airman's Creed. I opened the attachment to read...
I am an American Airman
I am a warrior
I have answered my nations call
I am an American Airman
My mission is to fly, fight, and win
I am faithful to a proud heritage
to a tradition of honor
and a legacy of valor
I am an American Airman
Guardian of freedom and justice
my nations sword and shield
its sentry and avenger
I defend my country with my life
I am an American Airman
Wingman, Leader, Warrior.
I will never leave an Airman behind
I will never falter
and I will not fail.
This is a declaration that I found myself immediately judging. Thinking, "I am not a warrior. Would I give my life for this country? A nation? What is this legacy? I worked on memorization but my intellect fought my heart into a disposition that was less than amiable. I found myself in a tension caught between the dreams of my youth and the visions set before me and those laid behind. My struggle was not birthed by the Creed alone but was rather more grounded in years of questioning the military with the new testament.
These struggles came to yet another point where I needed Revelation to send aid badly. And aid came in the form of my uniform, a benefit concert, and a counseling appointment.
I received a text asking if I was available to play a benefit concert this last friday and in summery I was able to make it. Not only was I able to make it but instead of just playing drums for the main band I played my own music for an hour during the silent auction. This allowed for me to be able to grab time with the director of Stop Child Trafficking Now. He is a pastor of warriors and has been involved with special operations militarily and inside of criminal justice with the demand side of trafficking. He was able to draw out a specific passage in the gospels which describes a centurion who comes to Jesus and asks him to heal his servant. In the Jordish paraphrase Jesus offers to go with him and he says he is not worthy but knows because he is under authority that Jesus has authority to command healing and see it done. Jesus goes on to praise his faith as the greatest in all of Israel.
From this one account he fed me some thoughts. First, Jesus never condemned a soldier for his job or told him to change his profession. In fact in this instance he is praised for his faith and understanding of authority. My teacher then began to point out the obvious that the old testament was not meant to be apart from the new, nor do they contradict. Also that God told warriors like David and Saul to kill whole people groups even though the fifth commandment says we are not to murder. "There is a difference between kill and murder" he elaborated. "God does not contradict himself."
This was Revelation that confirmed what I felt God speaking to me but could not surrender to which is further solidified for me through my uniform.
I wore my uniform it for the first inspection of the year and was again given the instructions to know the Airman's Creed well. This time I spoke it out into my empty room as I prepared the night before. The louder and more sure I became with the words the more my heart was able to grab hold. My heart and spirit finally collided into alignment with my mind when inspection came and Detachment 910 yelled in unison our Creed. It became mine just as the uniform aided the revelation of my commitment. I stood at attention eyes just above the horizon proclaiming I am an American Airman, I am a warrior! It was not brian wash or fear that instigated Revelation but the realization of begin a part of a cause much greater than I, a proud heritage.
I was no longer in conflict in my mind and my heart was at peace even while begin inspected! I wish I could be dancing excitedly in front of you to add emphasis to my fresh joy. This joy was sealed in me during a counseling appointment with my teacher and captain who are one and the same. Capt. Morgan told me about the lounge of the special forces units she has worked with. She said the lounge was lined with books,their was often chess going on, and it was surprisingly calm. She told me that they are not looking for crazy people but normal people disciplined in doing crazy things.
That Revelation brought my heart to life and my childhood dreams claim to a hold in my practical pursuits once more!
Oh the adventure I have been lead to! I my pledge allegiance to God and he guides my steps some times in spite of my plans.
Signing out! Dream well and God bless you!
When I wake up at 4:30 am after a night of trying to hide away from the traditions of a scandalous floor I wake to the darkness. This darkness I have known before and I have charged into it morning run after morning run as I strained towards my dreams in high school cross country. This darkness and I have become the sort of friends where silence has become the best solace.
When I need to vent my frustrations I beat the air and the pavement, I throw my heart out to the Wind and I bring my body to an endorphin stimulated attention.
In this attention whether prayer be my vehicle, the power of the darkness my cloak, or the breaking of silence my release I come into fellowship with revelation. You know that place, that state of being where human understanding is at its hight yet still you are left with desire? That place I find regularly in philosophy, theology, art, and all the things I love but at that moment of weakness comes revelation.
My revelations have been sometimes to complicated to tell and sometimes to simple in their beauty that I must share them in person or keep them locked in the intimacy of memory and prayerful meditation.
One I will be free to divulge is that of a revelation of my allegiance specifically in the growth and process that Air Fore ROTC has instigated. Our first flight letter was sent out on the second week of SPU classes and I climbed through the thickets of antonyms I found the order to learn the Airman's Creed. I opened the attachment to read...
I am an American Airman
I am a warrior
I have answered my nations call
I am an American Airman
My mission is to fly, fight, and win
I am faithful to a proud heritage
to a tradition of honor
and a legacy of valor
I am an American Airman
Guardian of freedom and justice
my nations sword and shield
its sentry and avenger
I defend my country with my life
I am an American Airman
Wingman, Leader, Warrior.
I will never leave an Airman behind
I will never falter
and I will not fail.
This is a declaration that I found myself immediately judging. Thinking, "I am not a warrior. Would I give my life for this country? A nation? What is this legacy? I worked on memorization but my intellect fought my heart into a disposition that was less than amiable. I found myself in a tension caught between the dreams of my youth and the visions set before me and those laid behind. My struggle was not birthed by the Creed alone but was rather more grounded in years of questioning the military with the new testament.
These struggles came to yet another point where I needed Revelation to send aid badly. And aid came in the form of my uniform, a benefit concert, and a counseling appointment.
I received a text asking if I was available to play a benefit concert this last friday and in summery I was able to make it. Not only was I able to make it but instead of just playing drums for the main band I played my own music for an hour during the silent auction. This allowed for me to be able to grab time with the director of Stop Child Trafficking Now. He is a pastor of warriors and has been involved with special operations militarily and inside of criminal justice with the demand side of trafficking. He was able to draw out a specific passage in the gospels which describes a centurion who comes to Jesus and asks him to heal his servant. In the Jordish paraphrase Jesus offers to go with him and he says he is not worthy but knows because he is under authority that Jesus has authority to command healing and see it done. Jesus goes on to praise his faith as the greatest in all of Israel.
From this one account he fed me some thoughts. First, Jesus never condemned a soldier for his job or told him to change his profession. In fact in this instance he is praised for his faith and understanding of authority. My teacher then began to point out the obvious that the old testament was not meant to be apart from the new, nor do they contradict. Also that God told warriors like David and Saul to kill whole people groups even though the fifth commandment says we are not to murder. "There is a difference between kill and murder" he elaborated. "God does not contradict himself."
This was Revelation that confirmed what I felt God speaking to me but could not surrender to which is further solidified for me through my uniform.
I wore my uniform it for the first inspection of the year and was again given the instructions to know the Airman's Creed well. This time I spoke it out into my empty room as I prepared the night before. The louder and more sure I became with the words the more my heart was able to grab hold. My heart and spirit finally collided into alignment with my mind when inspection came and Detachment 910 yelled in unison our Creed. It became mine just as the uniform aided the revelation of my commitment. I stood at attention eyes just above the horizon proclaiming I am an American Airman, I am a warrior! It was not brian wash or fear that instigated Revelation but the realization of begin a part of a cause much greater than I, a proud heritage.
I was no longer in conflict in my mind and my heart was at peace even while begin inspected! I wish I could be dancing excitedly in front of you to add emphasis to my fresh joy. This joy was sealed in me during a counseling appointment with my teacher and captain who are one and the same. Capt. Morgan told me about the lounge of the special forces units she has worked with. She said the lounge was lined with books,their was often chess going on, and it was surprisingly calm. She told me that they are not looking for crazy people but normal people disciplined in doing crazy things.
That Revelation brought my heart to life and my childhood dreams claim to a hold in my practical pursuits once more!
Oh the adventure I have been lead to! I my pledge allegiance to God and he guides my steps some times in spite of my plans.
Signing out! Dream well and God bless you!
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
In need of Vaseline
So my friends I decided to write a little training blog because I am terrible at keeping a log and I can both update you on my life and record at least some basics of what my training has been. Generation Interns ended about two and a half weeks ago and I moved yet again into the wonderful Russell household in the little country city of Monroe. As I drove the 40 minutes or so it took to get out there from Issaquah I decided I really want be a to runner again. The issue I had with running is that my whole has been a very inconsistent schedule packed with multiple moves, trips, camps, and late nights. (that were mostly out of my control due to the financial necessity of car pooling.) I had been running at best 20 miles a week and hitting the gym on average about three times a week when I was at the church dorms and had the Y accessible. I had been eating anything that was free so my nutrition was basically lots of barbeque that I tried to adapt into a salad by stealing all the condiments and throwing them around. All of this is the rough frame for my frustration the inconsistency I was hoping to kill while in Monroe.
The morning after I moved in I went for about 6 miles, it felt good to be out but slow. The next day I did three on the treadmill one of which was a five minute mile and then hammered some weights. The next week the Russell family went to the beach and I was house sitting so my plan was to rest, eat better, fast coffee, and get back into running shape. Then I got sick and was forced to sleep more and train less than I had wanted but I continued to run light miles non the less. After a week of sickness and sleep the Russells came home and I tried once again to regain a somewhat normal sleep and eating schedule.
On the Sunday of the 30th my room mate from the Plateau dorms told me that his buddy was putting on a 50k race and gave me the info. A couple days later after getting back into my normalish-mildly-crazy-running-self I posted a Facebook status asking if anyone would be willing to pitch in and help me run a race. Within about 20 minutes I had the race, new shoes, and some fuel paid for. I also sent an email to the race director asking for any sort of a scholarship and he knocked off five bucks. After that I immediately threw on the short shorts strapped on my shoes and did an hour and twenty minute run before I had to take off for worship practice. It hurt so good! For the first time since my last high school cross country race I felt adrenaline pulsing through my veins as my legs struck the pavement with new purpose and my mind ran wild pondering the pain and possibility of what this race in 20 days could hold. For those of you who are not runners and do not understand the joy released in the pain of endurance I encourage you to move beyond your mind and try it sometime. For those of you that are runners and are thinking me crazy for running a 32 mile race with only a month of solid training I would say move beyond your head sometime too and don't get caught by what is the supposed right way to things. Running is science but it is also madness and you need both to maintain the wonderful adventure of it!
The next day I sent my registration in, bought some electrolyte mixes, slim right drinks, and some disposable razors. Within about four days I had my legs freshly shaved, my spandex dug out of the back of my truck, and almost 50 miles fresh on my legs. The adventure begins!
So how do you train with under three weeks till a 50k, I don't really know... But I know the coarse has 6000 feet of elevation gain and 7000 feet of decent strung out over three major peaks so I decided I should do some hills. Now usually hills are a part of base training but remember I did not have time for that so I would have to depend on the weights I had lifted and a couple of quality hilly runs. It worked out wonderfully that two days before I knew I was going to race I did a workout I call the 800 of death on SPU's track. The 800 of death is basically 400 meters of lunges and then 4x100 meter build ups sandwiched in between a mile warm up and a mile cool down plus a few recovery laps here and there. I did this workout after meeting for prayer with two awesome guys Josh, and Stephen and I wanted to push myself and help them push themselves. Little did I know I was not in the fitness I was used to when I would do the 800 of death. It felt great while doing it but what was awesome is that we had an all church get together the next day and non of us could hardly move. We walked around laughing at each other because of or funny looking limp. That workout was fallowed by a rest day then I tried to run three recovery miles that felt as though I was running on two stick legs. The next day was when I was crazy excited and hammered out an hour twenty all jacked up with my head in the clouds. since then I have alternated usually a five to eight miler with a ten to fifteen miler. Two days ago I got the the ghetto Monroe middle school track and had my host bro Andrew time me as I did a little over a five mile tempo. I consistently ran under seven minute pace until my stomach decided to launch a revolt reminding me I still need to do better on my nutrition. I got onto runners world and used the pace calculator to figure out what it would take to finish in under 4 hours with the result being a 7:30 pace. Yesterday I plugged away at another hilly long run of about 12 miles with 4 hill repeats at mile 5. I managed close to goal pace but felt my legs lagging from the tempo the day before and the soreness of legs surprised by lots of miles thrown at them over a short period of time.
At the moment I am spending my day at my home away from home (Starbucks) and writing, resting, and reading away from the house for a bit.
Oh and the reason for the title.. ask a runner who has ever run long miles. Love you guys!
The morning after I moved in I went for about 6 miles, it felt good to be out but slow. The next day I did three on the treadmill one of which was a five minute mile and then hammered some weights. The next week the Russell family went to the beach and I was house sitting so my plan was to rest, eat better, fast coffee, and get back into running shape. Then I got sick and was forced to sleep more and train less than I had wanted but I continued to run light miles non the less. After a week of sickness and sleep the Russells came home and I tried once again to regain a somewhat normal sleep and eating schedule.
On the Sunday of the 30th my room mate from the Plateau dorms told me that his buddy was putting on a 50k race and gave me the info. A couple days later after getting back into my normalish-mildly-crazy-running-self I posted a Facebook status asking if anyone would be willing to pitch in and help me run a race. Within about 20 minutes I had the race, new shoes, and some fuel paid for. I also sent an email to the race director asking for any sort of a scholarship and he knocked off five bucks. After that I immediately threw on the short shorts strapped on my shoes and did an hour and twenty minute run before I had to take off for worship practice. It hurt so good! For the first time since my last high school cross country race I felt adrenaline pulsing through my veins as my legs struck the pavement with new purpose and my mind ran wild pondering the pain and possibility of what this race in 20 days could hold. For those of you who are not runners and do not understand the joy released in the pain of endurance I encourage you to move beyond your mind and try it sometime. For those of you that are runners and are thinking me crazy for running a 32 mile race with only a month of solid training I would say move beyond your head sometime too and don't get caught by what is the supposed right way to things. Running is science but it is also madness and you need both to maintain the wonderful adventure of it!
The next day I sent my registration in, bought some electrolyte mixes, slim right drinks, and some disposable razors. Within about four days I had my legs freshly shaved, my spandex dug out of the back of my truck, and almost 50 miles fresh on my legs. The adventure begins!
So how do you train with under three weeks till a 50k, I don't really know... But I know the coarse has 6000 feet of elevation gain and 7000 feet of decent strung out over three major peaks so I decided I should do some hills. Now usually hills are a part of base training but remember I did not have time for that so I would have to depend on the weights I had lifted and a couple of quality hilly runs. It worked out wonderfully that two days before I knew I was going to race I did a workout I call the 800 of death on SPU's track. The 800 of death is basically 400 meters of lunges and then 4x100 meter build ups sandwiched in between a mile warm up and a mile cool down plus a few recovery laps here and there. I did this workout after meeting for prayer with two awesome guys Josh, and Stephen and I wanted to push myself and help them push themselves. Little did I know I was not in the fitness I was used to when I would do the 800 of death. It felt great while doing it but what was awesome is that we had an all church get together the next day and non of us could hardly move. We walked around laughing at each other because of or funny looking limp. That workout was fallowed by a rest day then I tried to run three recovery miles that felt as though I was running on two stick legs. The next day was when I was crazy excited and hammered out an hour twenty all jacked up with my head in the clouds. since then I have alternated usually a five to eight miler with a ten to fifteen miler. Two days ago I got the the ghetto Monroe middle school track and had my host bro Andrew time me as I did a little over a five mile tempo. I consistently ran under seven minute pace until my stomach decided to launch a revolt reminding me I still need to do better on my nutrition. I got onto runners world and used the pace calculator to figure out what it would take to finish in under 4 hours with the result being a 7:30 pace. Yesterday I plugged away at another hilly long run of about 12 miles with 4 hill repeats at mile 5. I managed close to goal pace but felt my legs lagging from the tempo the day before and the soreness of legs surprised by lots of miles thrown at them over a short period of time.
At the moment I am spending my day at my home away from home (Starbucks) and writing, resting, and reading away from the house for a bit.
Oh and the reason for the title.. ask a runner who has ever run long miles. Love you guys!
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