Why I Run: I Get To Run With Him

Kyle and I had a conversation at some point about giving some quality yearbook-style smiles for the photographers during our last race.  The photographers are spread throughout the course and capture lots of photos that end up being as much a trophy to a racer as the finisher's medal.  Well, you might say that I received quite a reward when looking at my sweet hubbies race photos...

I love how he spots the photographer, totally commits to his crazy face, and gets more demented with each frame.  Thank you Lord for these; I laugh out loud every time I look at them.

 Oh how I love him!

It's like I'm married to Calvin.

Why I Run: Anxiety & Forgiveness

I started running in autumn 2004.  At the time I was in my third year at Georgia Tech.  I would say it was the time in my Christian life when I started really living; I was making choices to be obedient to God.  I determined to be a better student (much easier when you FINALLY get past the requisite general education courses and into your major), date a Christian (though I was very ill-equipped for dating at all), and be involved in my campus ministry.  Though there were many bumps along the road, this was the first time in my life where I decided that life wasn't going to be about things happening to me and how I reacted to them.  I was going to be proactive in becoming who I wanted to be. 

What triggered this change?  The preceding summer something happened that altered my life entirely.  I was studying abroad in Lyon, France with a small group of students.   This was in an age before skype and widespread use of wireless networks.  With the exception of trips to an internet cafe or using calling cards purchased from a tobacco shop, I was completely cut off from home in the U.S.  I didn't live in the dorms with the other students.  I had opted to do a homestay with a French lady to improve my French language skills.  Though I had a few friends in the group, I felt very alone.  I remember spending so many evenings wishing I had more homework to do or a good book to read because it seemed to take hours for the sun to set and the day to end.  It was a sad season.

A trip to Lyon with Kyle and friends in 2010

Not long before I was to return home, I joined a few girls for an evening out.  I decided I might as well enjoy one night out in this beautiful city before it was all over.  Our plans for the evening were to enjoy a bottle of wine on a boat docked on the Rhone river (if you've ever been to Europe, you know many restaurants operate on river boats; it's quite a treat for outdoor dining). We were surprised by the appearance of our professor who wanted to join us in our outing. Unfortunately for us, he had bigger designs for our night.  To keep the story brief, he and his friend offered to drive one of my friends and me back to the dorms after a long evening of going to every restaurant & bar in town he liked.   Instead of taking us home, they took us to a very secluded place.  There my professor's friend molested me.  At some point, the professor came to his senses and drove us home.  The aftermath of this event was quite complicated; I returned to the states accompanied by the dean of students and completed my course work for the semester in Atlanta.  The school conducted an investigation that resulted in my professor losing his job.

Phew... that's never easy to share.  Before the study abroad trip, I had struggled with anxiety and stress.  Being rebellious in my pre-Christian life stressed me out.  I always worried about whether I'd get caught acting out and what the consequences would be.  I guess you could say I made a hobby out of worrying.  When I became a Christian (which happened in August 2003) I experienced forgiveness from God for all the wrong I had done.  I literally felt relief like the weight of many burdens were lifted off my shoulders.  Of course the Bible teaches that Jesus bears our sins on the cross, but I guess I hadn't fully believed it until I felt it for myself.  I lived that year leading up to my study abroad in France with so much joy and zeal for the Lord.  I can tell you more about that some day, but to go into too much detail on that season would detract from what I want to share today.  This entry is supposed to be about running, right?

Well, after that bad night in France all of those feelings of anxiety and stress came back with so much force that I didn't feel like I could stand up under it.  I was so overcome with fear that I could be attacked again, with hate for these men responsible for hurting me, with worry about which professors would find out that I was the girl who got the French prof. fired, with feelings that I was irreparably damaged, and with shame about sharing what happened with my friends and family.  If I thought I had been lonely before, it was only a glimpse at what came to be.  Though I must tell you, I felt the presence of God with me strongly from the moment I was riding in the back seat of that car in France going away from places I recognized.  Each time I called out to God, he was there.  He kept me afloat and hopeful because he had brought me through tough times before and this experience wasn't going to be any different.

Still, anxiety persisted to eat away at me.  I was having panic attacks frequently.  I prayed that God would take them away, but he did not.  One night some friends invited me to the gym.  I used the elliptical from time to time but wouldn't necessarily say I was into fitness, but I could get behind some social time while burning some calories.  We did our time on the machines; during the gym's busiest hours you only get 30 minutes before it's time to give it over to someone else.  One friend said she'd like to work out a little more and asked if we'd mind doing a few laps around the track.   Miraculous moment, I felt unleashed and didn't want to stop running even after our group had decided to retire.  I felt good and looked forward to doing it again.

I started to develop the habit of running.  During these times I would pray and practice memorizing scripture.  God and I would talk about how I couldn't go on hating these men; I needed to forgive them.  So I prayed for them by name while I moved.  I prayed that God would forgive me for not using better judgment that night.  I prayed for the other students who may have been mistreated by the professor.  I thanked God for my friends and family who encouraged me.  My most personal conversations with God occurred while I ran.  I believe running was a gift from God because I was physically exerting my stress while expressing all my feelings to him.  It was a gift because through it he was healing me.

Today I still have great time with God while I run.  Most recently, I had a wonderful time with God during the Publix half-marathon in Atlanta.  I praised God that I was able to run and enjoy such a beautiful morning with so many people.  I prayed for the other runners.  I prayed for the city as I worked my way through so many different neighborhoods~ the 4th Ward, Little 5 Points, the Highlands, Midtown, State & Tech's campuses.  When I finished the run, I thanked him for sustaining me. 

        

I guess the thing I've learned most through running is grace.  First it was grace for other people.  When I'm mad or harbor unforgiveness in my heart, I really need to lace my shoes up and hit the street.  Now I'd say that I'm learning about the grace God shows me.  I'm so limited and have to be willing to accept that where I have shortcomings, God can provide what I lack.  It can be things as silly as the energy to get up a hill (God, you have all the power in the world.  Could you impart a little on me?).  It can be serious things (God, I want to be a good wife and mother.  I feel like I'm failing today.  Teach me not to hurt the sweet guys you have put in my life.  Please show your love for them through me & help me forgive myself when I feel guilty or bad about myself in these roles).  Even though very few things are resolved by the end of a run, it is good for my heart (a double entendre). It may be the most valuable lesson God has taught me and is still teaching me.

In the Bible there are many examples of believers presenting their prayer requests to God after a period of fasting.  I guess for me running might be my fasting substitute.  Ezra 8:23 reads So we fasted and petitioned our God about this, and he answered our prayer.  My version would read So Leah ran and petitioned her God about this, and he answered her prayer.  It's a true story and I'm grateful for it.

Why I Run: Every Girl Wants To Be A Princess

Once upon a time I dated a boy who was an adventure nut.  He loved exploration, drawing, different cultures, fitness, and momentous experiences.  Though he was not suited for me, he planted in my mind an enthusiasm for running and destination races.  He encouraged me to run more with great determination to the point where I felt like he was my coach or trainer.  I struggled to keep up with this fellow who was built for running; seriously, he's a 6-foot-something lean young man with energy to spare.  He inspired me because he intended to run a marathon in Disney World.  Who knew one could do such a thing?  I thought he was a crazy dreamer.
 

The running fellow demonstrating his explosive energy

Well, some years later I had a friend post photos from a Disney half-marathon for women.  She sported a cute tutu because it was a princess-themed race.  She certainly looked cute, but I was definitely too old for that business.  A year later another friend completed the princess half-marathon sporting a great tulle skirt.  She caught my eye because she was my age & a young mom.  Super impressive; she had time to train with not one but TWO little boys under the age of 3!  Okay, so not only am I young enough to do it,  I also have no excuses for figuring out travel logistics with just one little one.  Plus, I think Kyle is eager to encourage me to do a race on my own.

             

The one thing that put me over the top was my friend Andrea.  She ran this race just last month wearing the most adorable Cinderella running costume complete with reflective trim.  Merciful heavens, I want to run dressed like a princess!

Seriously, could she be cuter?

So I happened to mention to my mom that I had aspirations to run like a Disney character .  Gift of all gifts~ she shared two blessings in my life I hadn't considered.  First, my parents' home in Florida is a relatively quick drive to Orlando.  No dispensing senseless sums of money on hotels!  Second, my little sister is a talented seamstress who happens to specialize in princess-wear.  I kid you not.  The stars are aligning so I can (hopefully) run a royal race next year at the happiest place on earth.

Exhibit A: Princess Peach of the Mushroom Kingdom

Exhibit B:  Princess Serenity (aka Sailor Moon from her Moon Kingdom days)

Exhibit C: Rapunzel~Official Disney Princess as of October 2011

Some may say she has a thing for blond princess, so I may use that to my advantage.  I've chosen Aurora to be my regal running alter ego.  She's probably my favorite princess because she has a knack for sleeping like I do.  I've commissioned my little sister to make something in the likeness of her color changing ballgown, and she's shopping iridescent fabrics in blue & pink.

Making tracks + catching Z's + flaxen hair = Aurora warrior

The final bonus for the Princess half-marathon is that both my big & little sister are interested in training for it and running it with me!  My big sister already runs regularly, but we've never run together before.  My little sister can't resist an opportunity to make & wear princess gear (hello, Exhibit A-C!), and she's been meaning to get more active.  Joy of all joys~ some of my favorite things are culminating to make for a very happy day in February 2013!!!

Glam trainers

Why I Run: Crazy People Should Own Treadmills

I asked Kyle what I should write about first without any parameters.  I have dozens of ideas recorded on a list which he was not allowed to see before hand.  I also didn't tell him I'm moving away from writing about my day to day life.  Oops~ the man said, "why don't you write about running with the baby?"  How could I refuse sharing something that means so much to me?  On any given day, it's the only reason I leave our home.  After Christmas I picked out some new work out clothes to motivate me to get out.  Kyle also signed us up for our now traditional March half-marathon.  Ages ago we shopped like mad to pick out the perfect jogging stroller in our price range.  Conditions were perfect to get moving.

Running with the baby is different.  It brings up opportunities to meet new people.  A couple of weeks ago I made a huge gaff.  I was having a really bad run.  Earlier in the day I gave the babe his vitamins which abruptly caused him to toss his cookies; not cute baby spit up, but serious vomit.  All. Over. Me.  I was thoroughly grossed out and even more ashamed of myself for giving the tot something that literally repulsed him.  I thought hitting the street to get some fresh air would maybe clear the air for baby and for my bad-mom-shame-fest.  I was really in my head going at a turtle's pace through the neighborhood when a sweet lady asked if I had a doll in my stroller.  Caught off guard by the question, I glibly replied, "No, it's my baby."  As she approached, a normal human response would have been to slow down (not hard to do when I'm running 13 minute miles).  I did not slow down.  Rather, I apologized and behaved as if I couldn't stop my workout for something as lovely as baby admiring.  In a sweaty heap of chagrin, I regretted my actions with each step home until I finally made it back to our place to hide from any new opportunity to repel any other gentle passerby who may be unfortunate enough to cross my path.

I prayed for forgiveness and told the Lord that no matter where I was running or how much I wanted to do well, I'd take time to get to chat with friends especially if they wanted to praise my offspring.  With my new convictions and positive attitude, I've been hitting the streets in the hope to be kind to fellow fitness friends.  Though I don't know exactly what God is up to, I have yet to remedy the situation with that one lady with an apology and proper introduction.  I haven't seen her in days.  Additionally, I missed a chance to befriend another young mother who lives nearby yesterday.  It's as if I am not to be trusted with sweet encounters.  Oh Jesus, I promise not to let vomit or any other nasty situation rule how I interact with others.

Do you ever have those times where it is easier to fess up to God in prayer than it is someone you live with?   When I recounted to Kyle my jogging misadventure, he laughed because he thought I was kidding.  Then he tried to make me feel better by pointing out what a weird lady our neighbor must have been to start a conversation with a jogger who had headphones on.  Clearly she's the one who lacks social skills...  Hard lesson in Christian living~ as sweet as my husband is, I had to insist that the wrong done that day was all me.  Not in some guilty, self-bashing sort of way.  It is too easy for me to accept some justification for some selfish thing I do.  On the occasions where I truly am repentant, I can't afford to be convinced that what I did was okay just so I can feel better (although, I do accept Kyle's consolation when it comes to baby's throw up.  I refer to it as the time I poisoned the baby with nutrition while he'd say it was a bad reaction to iron). 

Alas, all is not lost.  I'll need to work this out in my brain in the coming days/weeks/lifetime, but I'm pretty sure there is a good metaphor on progressive sanctification (i.e. living more like Christ each day) and running in here.  I think I'm verging on plagiarizing the epistle to the Hebrews on running our race with perseverance.  All I know is that sometimes I have days where I feel like Usain Bolt while on others I'm what the French would call "les incompétents" (only singular because the writers of Home Alone didn't know French).  Same with my faith; I definitely identify with David who was on track with God one day only to go off the deep end the next day with something wild like adultery or murder.  Thank God acting like a whack-o on a jog doesn't preclude having a renewal in spirit or the opportunity to get it right the next day.  That really is the beauty of running by foot or by faith; each day is an opportunity to commit more of your energy to becoming who you want to be.

Source

Speaking of who I'd like to be, in my next installment of "Why I Run" I'll be sharing a bit about an athletic dream I wish will come true.  Until then, happy trotting!  À bientôt!

Sustainability

Woah, before you judge my title and believe I've turned into an eco-buddy, hippy tree hugger, give me a minute before you move on to reading Suri's Burn Book or some other cooler blog than mine.  I have realized in the past few months that I love to write, but writing about being a mother or homemaker just isn't a renewable resource in my realm of creativity.  Good news for you is that mom-blogging is the fuel to the blogosphere fire (and politics... also, Apple products); there is no dearth of material in parenthood if that's what you are into. If mom bloggers are like an orchestral ensemble skillfully mastering their respective instruments, I'm sure I'd be the triangle player who was only entrusted a phrase worth of dinging 108 measures into the second to last movement.  For non-musical folks, I'd be low on the totem pole.  Therefore, it's time to take the blog in a new direction and stick to topics I can get into writing.  Sustainability!

After scrolling through a few previous entries, I realized how much I rely on my experiences and how I mentally digest them.  I thought I'd take a retrospective approach to writing and share some stories about my past with you.  Since I am a Christian and the most exciting and interesting thing I do most weeks is Old Testament Bible study (don't tune out now or let your eyes glaze over because it just got Bible-y), most of my stories will likely have some aspect of my faith included.  Perhaps like sitcoms of old where some mishap unfolds in the first two thirds of a show only to be resolved in the episode's final chapter with some moral element & classy saxophone music.  Cheesy, I know, but this is my dream.  Also, I was once a prodigal son-type (read: trouble maker extraordinaire).  So you are likely to read an amusing story from time to time.  Fun times for all.

In light of a new chapter, you'll see a new title to the blog.  Perhaps it's overdue, but I think it's high time we used the real name.  For now we're going with "Un Petit Truc" which means a little thing in French (really it's more like a little whatchamacallit).  Seems to suit my let's-see-where-this-goes direction.  I'll be writing soon.  À bientôt!