Tri-County Triangle Trail Half-Marathon

Tri-County Triangle Trail Half Marathon 13.1 mi 01:3407:08 pace

No plan? No problem. I didn't train with a specific plan in mind, and I just hoped to get below 1:40 today. This morning I got to Frankfort in plenty of time and picked up my packet. I got the wrong size shirt, and they didn't have any more (they asked if I signed up late - let's just say, I was #17, meaning I was the 17th person to register). So they gave me an extra t-shirt from last year's race as an apology for giving me the wrong size. I mostly stayed in the car to keep warm; it was cold and windy out there! I kept second-guessing what to wear, and I ended up with shorts (of course), long sleeve tech shirt, run DMC jersey, hat, gloves, compression sleeves, and Sketcher GoRun shoes.

When the race was ready to start, I made my way toward the front... expecting to find fast runners and tuck in behind them, I was kind of surprised to see nobody up there. I had seen some guys who looked fast hanging around, but I guess they were running the 5K (which started 5 minutes after the 1/2). After observing a moment of silence for Boston and everyone affected (NOTE: even if you're a spectator, when the announcer announces a moment of silence, SHUT UP. Tell the person on the other side of the cell phone that you can't talk. You can wait the 30 seconds. How rude), the starter gave us a count down and the race was on.

I stepped out quickly - my feet felt extremely light and we were going downhill and there was a stiff wind at our backs. One runner went out faster than I was, and he looked strong and I knew I couldn't try to stick with him. So I tried to find my pace and just run. I was thankful that I'd brought my iPod - my hard running playlist was really handy, especially since I didn't see another runner until after the turn-around.

I would bore you with my mile splits, but just think "somewhere around 7" for all of them. I was right on pace. In the first few miles, I was second-guessing my clothing; I was too hot pretty quickly. But would I need the extra clothes on the return run into the wind? During the fifth mile, I took off my shirt (yes, Dave P., I ran shirtless for a while) and just put the short sleeve shirt back on. A little tricky to maintain a 7 minute mile pace while changing clothes, keeping an iPod on, etc. I dropped the shirt, my hat, and my gloves off at a water stop, and they returned them to me after the race.

At the turn-around, I was at 46:22. Then came the wind. The first mile after the turn-around was brutal. the wind was straight in my face. But this was the first time I got a view of the competition... they were far enough behind that I knew I had 2nd place wrapped up. Kind of a scary thought - with that far to go. So this became more of a mental race than physical.

The wind wasn't bad for the next few miles, until the last mile, when it was brutal again. I kicked it as much as I could, knowing that a PR was possible. At some point, Duke got confused and was reading the miles a little long. I'm not sure when, maybe mile 8, but it said 13.26 instead of 13.1.

The finish was rather uneventful, as I had 2nd wrapped up. I got a medal, a coupon for a free Road ID (nice, since my old one is outdated with my old information on it), and a coupon for a free Subway sandwich. I made my way back to the picnic shelter, where a three-piece bluegrass band was jamming and they had a whole bunch of bean soup (not much cornbread left, but it was really good) and cookies. I went out and cheered for other runners and waited for the end of the run, when the water stop people came back with my gear.

It was a good run, and I was extremely happy with my result!

Boston Marathon Thoughts

In 2006, I ran my first marathon, and I got the bug. In 2011, I decided it was my year to qualify for the Boston Marathon. It's like the holy grail for many of us. If you aren't "in the know" - there is a certain cut-off time you have to achieve to qualify to run the Boston Marathon (graded by age and gender). As I improved my race time, I determined that I had to qualify in 2011. Why? Because of two factors: #1: they were changing the qualifying time, subtracting five minutes from each group, meaning the next year, qualifying times would be five minutes faster; and #2: because I was turning 40, one of those age group changes that meant I was gaining five minutes... so 2011 seemed to be my window, my once-in-a-lifetime moment.

I missed qualifying by four minutes, but the Boston Marathon, for me and for so many, is like the Holy Grail of running. So that is part of the importance of Boston.

Now, if you know me, you know I usually run alone. I trained for four marathons almost exclusively by myself. I relish the group runs (and once drove 100 miles one way for a group run at Highbanks, a park on the north side of Columbus), but because of where I live, I run almost all of my runs by myself. All of my 20 milers... on my own. There is a huge aspect of long-distance running that is solitary.

But running is a team sport. That team is my family; my wife, who walked probably ten miles with two little kids to support me at the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon in 2007, my sons, Jonathan, who ran the Ken Keener Classic 5K with me a couple of years ago, and Andrew, who always wears my race bibs after the races.

That team is someone like Nathan H, my seminary buddy, who ran with me and my dog daily for a long time and who ran the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon with me in 2007. That team is Dave P, who I first met in person when he came and ran with me on my worst training run ever (I think I walked more than ran). Dave also ran me in when I did the Erie Marathon in 2011 when I had nothing left in the tank (that so-close-to-Boston-qualifying time). That team is all of my Run DMC buddies who I hadn't met yet who were the most awesome water stop on last year's Cap City Half Marathon course. But that team is best seen in that Run DMC team's performance at the Xenia Marathon recently. I wasn't even there, but reading their stories inspired me, how many of them showed up just to cheer on their teammates and friends, and the most awesome scene of all, a whole group running in a friend to her first marathon finish.

Runners are awesome. Runners are family. Which is why the bomb attack on the Boston Marathon hurts so much, why it seems so personal. Yes, I have personal friends who were there. Yes, I have personal friends who were there there, who were so close to the bombing, who had just been there at that spot, who are safe. But it's more than that, because runners are family. That's my family you just bombed. The 8 year old victim could have been my son, there to cheer for his Daddy, who worked his tail off to get there. This hurts because it is personal.

But because runners are family, you know we will band together. You know that the team will overcome. But for the moment, I will enjoy every step of my runs.

One Thing

What is one thing you feel you can't say in the church?

Please be as specific as you want. And please feel free to comment anonymously.

Excuses, excuses

I would set out all of the excuses why I haven't updated the blog lately, but the reality is, it hasn't been important enough for me to do so. I haven't had anything interesting to write about, and I've been busy, and I haven't felt like writing. Honestly it has been enough to keep the Facebook statuses up to date (is statuses a real word?).

So I will continue to sporadically write a restaurant review, a race recap, or something interesting, but, in case you were trying to keep up with my life solely based on this medium, well, sorry. Call me or drop by instead ;-)

Race Recap Jackson YMCA Y Run

For the past four years, Labor Day weekend has meant Sweet Corn Festival, and my favorite activity, the Ken Keener Classic 5K. I always love running that course - I know it backwards and forward. Who knows how many times I ran it? This year I contemplated making the trek to Millersport for the run, but I decided not to - a 1 1/2 hour drive one-way for a 3.1 mile race made me decide against it. And then I heard they had to suffer through a thunderstorm (which didn't dampen the crowd - according to official results, over 400 runners and walkers completed the course).

Since I didn't get to race, I ran my own 5K on the Wellston Bike Path around Lake Alma. I ran 5K in 20:39, which I found out later would have been fast enough for first place in my age group at the SCF. But all was not lost, as I found out there would be a race in nearby Jackson on Labor Day itself.

I got everything ready to go, but when I was halfway there, I realized that I had forgotten my Garmin. I could either turn back and not get enough time to warm up or I could run "naked" (without a watch or iPod). I chose naked.

I don't remember ever having an easier sign-in for a race - there were no bibs or numbers or anything. I "paid" for my race with new clothing items to be given to area school children.

After warm-ups and stretching, we made our way to the start line. There weren't many who toed the line - everyone was hanging back a bit. I quickly found the kid who would eventually win - it wasn't hard to guess... the fit kid in the current year cross country t-shirt is probably a good bet for the winner. So I started by him.  At the start, I wasn't surprised that he jumped out fast. After about 20 yards, I knew I couldn't stay with him, so I settled into my pace. One more guy was out in front of me, and another caught up to me right away. I stayed calm and just ran (and stayed on #3's shoulder). It was actually nice to not know my pace; I just ran this race for fun.

Somewhere along the first mile was a long, steady hill - not very steep, but enough of a hill to kill the #2 runner, and #3 and I ran him down. Not long after that, I passed #3 and though he was game enough to try to stick with me, that was the last I saw of him.

For an inaugural race (I refuse to use their "First Annual" terminology), they had marked the course extremely well and for a low-staffed race team, they had a great number of volunteers pointing the turns. Along the course were a few hills, nothing too steep, just enough to keep it interesting. Some of the course was through residential tree-lined neighborhoods, and though the roads weren't closed, traffic was minimal enough.

I never had any more competition, and #1 guy was gone (he finished nearly a minute ahead of me). I probably had 30 seconds on runner #4 (yellow shoes - he was the only other guy I had thought might be competition), who passed #2 and #3 somewhere back there. My finishing time was 20:06, my best time this season, enough for 2nd place overall and 1st in the 40-44 age group.

When I got home, my 6 year old was excited about my ribbon. My wife was just glad I didn't get a trophy ;-)

Move-in Excitement

If you are a United Methodist Pastor, you start to find is that the one thing constant is change. No, not that most of our United Methodist Church people love and embrace change (most of us humans don't, for the record - this isn't by any means a slam on the UMC), but it's inevitable as an itinerant UM pastor (and for the congregations we serve) that change is gonna come.


Back in February I got the news that I would be moving. Four months is a long time to transition, especially when the chance to make the transition is severely lacking (long story, and this is not the place to go into it), but the end of June finally came and it was time to move.


Herlihy Moving Co came in on Wednesday and took very good care of us. They were extremely hard-working and very professional - it was the best move we've experienced yet. We had more stuff than they thought we would, yet they got it all packed into the truck.


Thursday was move-in day in Wellston. Did I mention that it was 100* out on move-in day? The house heated up fast. There were several people from the church who came out to help move us in - they seemed to expect to be moving boxes but were instead put to work helping us move out of the boxes. Our dear friends Steve and Rita from Millersport came down (they brought our instruments so they didn't end up in the moving truck under all the furniture) and spent the entire day with us; Steve painted the closets for us while Rita spearheaded the "get the kitchen in order" project.


Food was provided, and the kids found friends to play with. In fact, the boys were at the neighbors' house all day playing with their kids! That night I ended up sleeping in the boys' room, because there's a window air conditioner in there (lucky!!).  


Friday came and so did more heat. And then, while we were out for dinner (we hadn't yet bought any groceries), a huge storm came through (70+ mph straight-line winds) and knocked out power to, oh, pretty much all of Ohio. Including us. So our second night in Wellston was without electricity. As was our third. And it was still around 100* every day and very humid.


Sunday morning was my first service at Wellston Hope, and we still had no electricity. That's OK; in New Knoxville, I got three years of practice preaching in a church with no air conditioning! Service went pretty well - the lower attendance actually was helpful to me in trying to learn names. It'll still be a while until I know them all and even longer until I know who is related to whom. 


Sunday evening's excitement came in the form of a fire. A landmark business caught fire as the power came back on, and it was a doozy. Pretty much the whole town came out, as well as 12 fire departments. Unfortunately the building was a total loss. According to the paper, however, it was insured. It always stinks when a local business suffers like that.


That was enough excitement for me. To top it off, we lost electricity again on Tuesday for about 24 hours, and parts of town still aren't back on the grid. 


Welcome to Wellston!

Remember

Every year on Memorial Day, Millersport holds a parade with a color guard, American Legion members, the high school band, and a bunch of children on decorated bikes (they also hold a bike decorating contest). The parade goes from the elementary school down to the canal, makes a loop, and stops while the American Legion members shoot a volley over the canal. Then the parade resumes back up the street and turns back to the cemetery, where the band plays the National Anthem, one of the local pastors gives a speech, Taps is played, and the American Legion members fire another volley. This was my year to give the speech; below is the text of my speech.

In my upbringing, Memorial Day meant a few things. Primarily, it meant the running of the Indianapolis 500. It also meant picnics and firing up the grill, maybe for the first time of the year. For many, this is the weekend of big sales, and it’s the last gasp of Spring before Summer hits – school children are already thinking about summer break and Memorial Day always meant the end of school.

None of these things are bad. The Indy 500 is a great race. There are great sales this weekend. It’s always great to spend time with your family and friends and to get outside and enjoy a long weekend. And the end of a school year and the beginning of summer are all great things to celebrate.

But the difficulty is that when we take Memorial Day over for all of these purposes, then we dilute and forget the true reason for the observance. I’m convinced that much of our culture has a very short memory. We spend our school careers cramming as much last minute information into our brains, hoping we remember it the next day for the test, and then, once we’ve finished the test, we jettison it all. One question I asked all the time as a student, and never understood until college, was “How does this affect me?” I lived under the incorrect assumption that history was just a bunch of stories, some of which were inspirational and encouraging, others of which were embarrassing and discouraging, but really just a bunch of stories about dead people, and that those stories didn’t have any bearing on me.

How wrong I was.

Our history is vitally important for us to remember. In Reason and Common Sense, the first volume in his five-volume work, The Life of Reason, the philosopher George Santayana writes: Progress, far from consisting in change, depends on retentiveness. When change is absolute there remains no being to improve, and no direction is set for possible improvement: and when experience is not retained, as among savages, infancy is perpetual. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.

All we need to do is look in the mirror to understand that change is the only constant in the world. I cannot go back in time. I will never be the age I was yesterday. I cannot change what happened in the past. However, this does not mean I can just forget the past. Do we want to have to fight the same fights our forefathers fought, or do we want our children to have to fight those same battles?

Unfortunately our culture has a very short memory.

Today we remember those who have given their lives in service to our country in the United States Armed Forces. As we remember them, we celebrate the freedom they fought for, the freedom that we have to spend this weekend the way we want to, the freedom to gather together, and even the freedom to ignore the sacrifices made on our behalf. If we do not remember these things, we could easily end up giving away the freedom they fought for. We can too easily slip into the attitude of “let someone else do it” or “let someone else pay for it” forgetting that everyone gets to choose whether to be part of the solution or part of the problem. But we too easily forget.

Today as we reflect on the sacrifices made on our behalf, remember to remember. In the Bible, the word “remember” is found over 166 times. In Genesis, after the flood, God provides a rainbow so that Noah will always remember the covenant God made with him. In the book of Numbers, the people of God were required to have tassels on their garments, so every time they looked at the tassels, they would remember God’s commands. God commanded the Passover as a remembrance of His deliverance of His people out of Egypt. Samuel set up a stone, calling it Ebenezer, which means “stone of help” as a constant memorial of how God helped them.

On this Memorial Day, I ask you, what helps you remember? You might not know the stories of those who gave their lives in service to our country. Rediscover the lost art of reading. Go to the library and read about the heroes of the Revolutionary War, the Civil War, the War of 1812, the Spanish-American War, World War I. Talk to a veteran and learn the stories of those who were there. Don’t ever think of those who gave their lives as a homogeneous group – every one of them has a name, a family, a history. Every soldier who died in service to our country left behind a legacy, the legacy of freedom we enjoy today. When we’re done here, take a moment and walk around this cemetery and notice the flags. Note the names you see, and recognize how many of those family names are still in town, how “those people” are really our people.

Which brings me to this: it can be easy to classify some people as heroes – after all, they lived heroic lives and died for what they believed in. They accomplished heroic actions and died to give us the freedom we enjoy. It can be easy to call someone a hero and to ignore the fact that when you ask a hero about his heroic measures, he will always tell you, “I was just doing my job. I just did what I was called to do.”

And when you realize that, you might just realize that every one of us is called to be a hero, too. The memories that I’m talking about today, the memories of these heroes who gave their all for us, they are only dead memories if they do not spur us all to action. To truly honor their memory, we must learn our place in the story.

Our memories require action. What are the requirements of your memories? As we reflect on the sacrifice made by our brothers, sisters, parents, grandparents, neighbors, friends, and those who have gone before us, serving our country, even to death, a proper response is to serve your country as well. Some have served and continue to serve in the military. Others serve in their churches or in civic organizations. Here are some responses that we all need to take part in: Become an informed voter. Work to make your home and neighborhood a better place. Don’t just sit around and complain about how our society has gone downhill since you were young – do something about it! Don’t just complain about politicians and politics in general – work to affect them. Use the influence you have to make the world around you a better place.

Memorial Day is not about random cook-outs and sales. It is about the memory of those heroes who died bravely serving our country, and it is about our response to that memory. So as we go from this place, take a moment and contemplate how God would have you respond. Then don’t hesitate. Go and live out a fitting response. But know that doing nothing is no response at all.

Jesus told a story about a king who gave three of his servants money, telling them to put it to work. When he returned home, the king asked the servants what they’d done with the money. The first servant had doubled his money, so the king put him in charge of ten cities. The second servant had earned 50% more, and the king put him in charge of five cities. The last servant had hidden his money in a piece of cloth. He responded to the king:  ‘I was afraid of you, because you are a hard man. You take out what you did not put in and reap what you did not sow.’

“His master replied, ‘I will judge you by your own words… Why didn’t you at least put my money in a bank so I would earn interest?’ Then he said to those standing by, ‘Take his money away from him and give it to the one who has ten.’

“Sir,” they said, ‘he already has ten!’

“He replied, ‘I tell you that to everyone who has, more will be given, but as for the one who has nothing, even what he has will be taken away.’”

This parable is relevant to our situation today. We have all been given different amounts – but how we respond is what matters. The actions of the past demand a response today. What will yours be?