My Memorial Day Speech

It surrounds us.  It’s everywhere we look.  It affects everything we do, everything we watch, all of our actions, everything we say.  It affects this gathering today.  It certainly affected our gatherings yesterday in church – including those who chose not to attend church. And it affects the various parties we’ve had all weekend.  Yet we rarely think about it or even talk about it.  In fact, we often bemoan its lack of existence. It’s part of the beauty of it; though it’s everywhere we look in this country, it never forces itself on us. 

What is it?  It’s freedom.  On December 15, 1791, the United States Constitution was amended with this statement: Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances. We are free to practice our religion – or not practice it, if that’s what we choose.  We are free to speak our mind, even when it’s not popular and even when our speech goes against the government.  We are free to gather together.  We are even free to directly petition the government.  If we don’t agree with our elected officials, we are free to vote them out of office, and we’ve done that time and again, and we’ve even changed our national leader 42 times peacefully, without incident.  We enjoy a freedom that makes us unique and special among all the nations in the world.

Yet we all too infrequently think about our freedom.  Did any of you get up this morning, thinking, “I hope I don’t get arrested today for flying my flag” or “I hope the police don’t detain me for gathering in a crowd in a cemetery”? Or yesterday, did you have look-outs posted at the door of your church to warn the people inside if the police were coming?  Or when you were complaining about politics and politicians, it’s our very government that protects the freedom you have to complain about them.

We also too often don’t think about the great cost of our freedom.  Those who bravely volunteered to go into harms way, to fight for our freedom.  Those who paid with their lives.  While Memorial Day is a holiday dedicated to celebrating those who have valiantly given their lives to protect us, I also want to recognize some unsung heroes of our country. 

I want to recognize the brave family members who stayed home while their loved one was away.  The parents who pray every day that their son or daughter will return home safely.  I especially appreciate the wives and children who wait for their husbands and dads to come home, and the difficulties they experience when they do return from war.  Some of you in this community have experienced this firsthand; that the person who returned from war is a different person from the one who left.  He’s seen too much.  He’s been traumatized in ways we civilians couldn’t imagine.  And instead of a hero’s welcome, he’s shunned. That’s no way to treat someone who went to war so the rest of us didn’t have to.  That’s no way to treat someone who fought to protect our freedom.  And the way we treat our freedom itself is no way to honor those who fought and died, those parents who lost children, those children who lost parents, those who sacrificed some of their best years to ensure our freedom.

Please make a point of respecting our soldiers and veterans.  When you see a uniformed soldier, stop them to thank them for their service.  The same goes for our veterans.  Even if they never saw combat, they still fought for our freedom.  Care for the families of our soldiers, including those who have returned from the battlefield.  Keep them in your daily prayers.  Send care packages and personal letters to our soldiers, reminding them how much we honor and respect them.

And take your freedom seriously.  You might say, “Hey – I am here at a Memorial Day celebration!  I decorated my bike!  I am dressed like an American flag!” Sure, those are indications that you take this holiday seriously.  Those are indications that you love your country and are proud to be an American.  And to an extent, I know I’m doing what we preachers refer as “preaching to the choir” because you have made the effort to be here to honor those who have gone before you.  But the question is: what do you do with your freedom the rest of the year?  When it’s not Memorial Day, how do you use your freedom?

We have the freedom of religion; do you practice your religion to its fullest, or do you just go through the motions?  Do you speak out against injustice, evil, and oppression whenever you see them, or do you simply expect someone else to do so?  Do you research all of the candidates who run for public office so you can make an informed choice when you go to the polls?  Do you even vote?

Use your freedom wisely.  That is the best way to honor those who fought for your freedom, who died to give us the freedom we enjoy.

My Running History, Chapter 8

After someone has completed running a marathon, there are several options. The first, which seems to be the most popular option, is to quit running altogether.  They had a goal to run a marathon, and once they do it, they're done.  Unfortunately, they often continue to brag about the accomplishment even years later.  And if you do train and run one, they'll tell you how awesome they did (usually that they beat you).  After running the Columbus Marathon (in which I didn't break any land speed records), I was at a meeting, and someone asked how the marathon was.  I gave a (very brief) recap, after which my "boss" asked what my time was.  When I told him, he proudly chuckled.  "I'm faster."  He told me that he had (at some point in his life) calculated a 26.2 mile course and just went out and ran it, faster than I'd plodded the Columbus route, of course.  Whether he had done it or not wasn't the question.  The question was how many steps he could run at that current time before his poor overworked heart would give out.

The second response to completing one's first marathon is "when am I going to qualify for Boston?" That's the marathon runner who, immediately after finishing the run, begins preparing for the next one (at least mentally, if not physically).  I've heard it said that you can't run the next marathon until you've forgotten your last one, but this kind of marathon runner doesn't have to forget - BRING IT ON! is their attitude. They look at their time, make adjustments to training and to their race, and plan for how to do the next one even faster.  This is an awesome class of person.  If you ask to see their running shrine, they'll often have all their bibs and medals somewhere, but they might also have some hidden because they're ashamed of their time (as if anyone else, looking at the shrine, would know their time).

My response was somewhere between the first and second.  I took a few days off for recovery, but I was very soon looking for another race.  Not long after, my old running buddy from Kentucky told me he was signing up for the Kentucky Derby Festival Marathon - did I want to do it, too?  So, at ten-to-midnight on the last night of earlybird registration, I paid my entrance fee.  I would be running in Kentucky. 

I wasn't out to break records (though I was hoping to break my time from Columbus); I just wanted to enjoy the race with my friend.  You can go back and read my post and be the judge as to whether or not I accomplished that goal...  I took a long time to "forget" that run (I still can't even think of energy jellybeans without wanting to puke, and the last time I tried to ingest a gel I gagged really hard), but after I did, I still don't have current marathon plans.  This isn't to say I stopped running; in fact, I still run as many times every week as I did during marathon training; I just limit my long runs to 12 miles tops.

But I've been running differently.  I decided to focus on my 5K runs for a season, and I dropped my time considerably (I'd been running around 21 minutes pretty consistently and I dropped to a PR of 19:35 last year).  This meant running speed work, much of which I did in the cemetery near our house.  In my marathon prep, I hadn't done any speed training; I only ran distance.

I started placing in my age group runs again - I'm not a "running shrine" kind of guy (I have most of my stuff in a drawer, though - I've heard that the Special Olympics will accept medals and give them out to their athletes, so when I accumulate enough, that's probably where they'll go).  That said, it's really exciting to be "on the podium" for placing in my age group and I still find myself nervous with anticipation when it's time to announce my age group.  And my kids love to play with the medals!

My big reason for not running another marathon has been the time issue.  It takes a really big time commitment to be able to train properly.  Every week would include a long run (anything over 8 miles is generally a long run - anything 8 or under is just a regular training run) up to a 20 miler.  That's a lot of running, and right now my priorities are in different areas.  So I've been focusing on shorter distances (5K through 1/2 marathon).

Having switched to shorter distances, my general running pace has quickened considerably.  I had been between 9 and 9 1/2 minutes per mile, but I dropped to between 8 and 8 1/2. In fact, when I ran my first half marathon, I was planning for 8:30 miles (and came really close to hitting it), but I had a lot of energy left over. Enough that my final mile was 7:22.  Still, when we reached the 12 mile mark, where the marathon runners and half marathon runners split off, I felt like I was cheating.

Still, it's been a fun challenge.  I know I'll never be a world-class runner, and there'll be a time when my race times start to rise again, but, for now, it's fun and exciting to be dropping time, something I hadn't done in some 20 years.

Spring Break Part 3: Ft. DeSoto County Park

While we were in central Florida with our friend, we visited Ft. DeSoto Park, located on Mullet Island (yes, that's what it's called - I think I saw the guy who it was named after) off St. Petersburg. We decided that we should come back and spend more time there, so after Sanibel, we made Ft. DeSoto our destination.  They reserved a certain number of  "walk-in" campsites, so we took advantage of that to grab a Monday-Thursday night stay.

This was perhaps the most beautiful campground I've ever stayed in.  There were plenty of waterfront campsites, but (in order to not have to move mid-week) we stayed "inland."  So our water view was across the camp road.The breeze blew in off the water, keeping the campsite pleasantly cool even though the sun really warmed things up during the day.  Perfect weather for vacation!

We were on "relax" mode - we didn't make plans to go a lot of places or do a lot of things; but then again, we didn't need to, as there was plenty to do there in the park. 

We spent our time at the beach, checking out the fishing pier (and getting cast-net fishing lessons from a 12 year old), going to the old fort, riding our bikes, and of course, going to the beach!  We went to the beach every day, and a beautiful beach it was!  Uncrowded, nice sand, lots of space for the boys to play (and dig), and a beautiful place to watch the sun set!

 

On the last night we were staying there, I woke up very early in the morning - Andrew was coughing a little - just enough to keep me awake - so I decided to go out for a run.  As I was heading out of the park, I noticed a crowd gathering by the camp office.  I thought maybe they were meeting for an excursion or something, but when I returned, I realized that they were "walk ins" waiting to register for campsites for the weekend.  There were probably 50 of them there... before 5 am!  That's dedication!

That morning I ended up going for a 10 mile run/walk along the beach trails (note: one banana isn't enough fuel for that long of a run).  The beach road was closed from dusk to dawn, and I got there pre-dawn.  I didn't think anything of it until I got to the a bridge leading toward the beach... where there were large barricades proclaiming the beach "closed."  I ran past the barricades (and hid behind when a park truck came by - the park worker was taking down the closed signs).

There's something about an early-morning run anyway - I love watching the sun rise - but on the beach without another person in sight?... fantastic.  This was one of the best vacations I've ever taken.  Certainly the most relaxing and recharging!

Happy Birthday, Jonathan!

Our little boy is now 6 years old! He had a fantastic birthday - the grandparents came up from Kentucky to celebrate with him.

Instead of having a traditional birthday cake, which Jonathan wouldn't eat, he had strawberry/blueberry creme puffs. They were delicious!

As you might be able to tell, he loved them immensely!

Instead of getting him more toys for his birthday (his grandparents came through in the toy department with some cool Star Wars toys), we took him (and his brother, of course) to Kalahari indoor water park. This was his choice, and he had so much fun.  He was, however, not pleased with the rule that he had to try a water slide.  But he told me Thursday morning that he thought he could be brave enough to try the orange one.  We went there first with my promise that once he tried it, I wouldn't bother him about it at all during the day.

He loved it!

And went on it over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over.  And tried the blue one, too, and loved it as well!  So he and Andrew kept riding and riding and riding!  They had a blast!

It was an extremely fun trip with the family - and Kalahari is a great place to visit, especially when they're doing during-the-week specials (so we get the room and two days of the water park for less than we would have paid for one day's tickets to the water park) and when the place is practically empty (which is why they're running the great deals during the week while kids are in school)!

And a good time was had by all!

Changing the World

About 1 1/2 years ago, I attended the Change the World Conference at Ginghamsburg UMC near Dayton, Ohio.  I blogged about my experiences there and was a bit critical of Michael Slaughter.

Because I was public with my critique of him, I need to be public in my apology.

My complaint stemmed from a comment that Slaughter made about the "light show" and how his "twentysomething staffers demanded it" (or something like that) and told him "sit down, Mike."

Now, I doubt they really said those words, but, having experienced a panel discussion led by his Worship Design Team, I have to say this: Michael Slaughter gives his Worship Design Team huge freedom in ministry  production.  He won't "compromise" his prophetic message, but he has total trust in his team to do what's right and to produce a Spirit-led, full ministry.  He is a tough leader, and I've never experienced first hand what it's like to work under him, but from what I could see, if his team says that a light show will produce the environment they're looking for (as a team - led by the Spirit), even if Michael Slaughter doesn't like a light show, the team will carry the day.

I was impressed, not only by Slaughter's authenticity (I got a chance to speak to him individually), and not only for his passion for Darfur (I already knew he was passionate about Darfur) or for sharing Jesus with the Dayton area (which he is passionately passionate about), but his passion for leading leaders and for mentoring young leaders in the church.

Well done, Michael Slaughter.

My Running History, Chapter 7

It wasn't really a goal of mine; it was more of an "out there" hero-status mythical kind of thing.  Kind of like playing guitar.  I'd always wanted to do it, but I'd never done it.  And I couldn't until I took lessons. But I'm getting off track.  It was the "out there" pinnacle of running, but (to be really honest) I had never even thought of doing it.

Until Rob did.

Rob is one of my closest friends, and every year at our conference for church, Rob and I would run together.  We used to just run up and down the lake path and out the pier.  Rob is an athlete (has always been), but I was in better shape than he was.  After all, I was a "runner" (meaning, I think, that a few times a week I'd hit the road for a three miler).  This was when three miles was long distance, mind you.

Then Rob ran a marathon.

I was instantly jealous (and, to be honest, quite a bit conceited and arrogant).  If Rob could run one, I sure could.  So I made good friends with Hal Higdon, signed up for the Columbus Marathon, and began training for a marathon (no, I don't know the real Hal Higdon, but I sure used his marathon training guide religiously!).

During my marathon training, I still didn't have a running partner, so I was running these four, five, eight, twenty mile runs by myself.  I was running five days every week (one day I would rest and one day I would play soccer for two hours).  My favorite moment in training was in week 14, when my long run was 12 miles.  This was Higdon's quote:

Run 12 miles. Did you believe when you started this program there would come a day when we would tell you to go that distance, and you'd think, "Oh, an easy day." It all depends on your point of view.

During my training, I ran my first trail race, the 2006 Hocking Hills Indian Run... 40K race.  It was humbling and amazing.  I was humbled by Steel Hill, which I realized I was going to have to walk if I wanted to finish.   I was humbled by the long uphill to the finish line, where I had to walk again. It was the longest I'd ever run at one time, and I finished!

I cruised for the next month and then I ran the Columbus Marathon.  From running 3 miles a day to finishing a 26.2 run - what a difference!

Running a marathon changed my perspective on running tremendously.  But further thoughts will have to wait until chapter 8.

My Running History, Chapter 6

All too soon, my days of running simply for the joy of running and running with a partner came abruptly to a halt.  In 2001, I graduated from seminary and moved from Kentucky to Ohio.  Since then, I've only sporadically had running partners, usually only when I would attend our annual conference for church.  In fact, over the first seven years, that was the only time I got to train with anyone.

I wasn't running for fun anymore, either.  I was running to alleviate stress.  It wasn't pleasant at all.  I would generally run 3-4 miles at a time, running a local race or two, but not much more than that.  I made one friend who also used to run, and we made plans to run together (we even had matching jog strollers so we could presumably run with our babies), but we were both so busy and stressed out that we never made the time.

Running was a necessity, but it wasn't enough.  It was more of an escape than something enjoyable.

But then something happened...

My Running History, chapter 5

I was in seminary, and I had just joined the church choir. 

Sounds like the beginning of a chapter about running, doesn't it?

To be more exact, I was in the bass section, where I knew nobody.  Well, I knew that guy behind me, but he "didn't count" because he was "just" the intern.  As it turned out, I began to get to know the guys in the section, and I found out that two of them were distance runners.  Distance, as I would have described it then, was 5K. They convinced me that I ought to come out to the local Thanksgiving 5K race, and so I did.  Mind you, though I hadn't been running at all for the past 7 years, I still thought of myself as a competitive runner.  I was mildly embarrassed that all three of us were about the same speed - though they were both in their upper 50s and I was in my mid 20s. 

About the same time, I got a dog, and he loved to run.  So I would run with him around the neighborhood.  Then Nate moved in across the street (actually, his wife moved in first - she left the "just married" thing on the car for years, it seemed, and we used to make so much fun of it!).  But when he came, he had a little soccer ball hanging from his pickup truck rear view mirror, and it wasn't long until we were playing soccer together, then running together.

Aside from track and cross country, I had never had a running partner (and after we moved away from Kentucky, I haven't had a regular running partner again), and this was one of the highlights of my running "career."  We just ran for the fun of it, to exercise, to work off the stress of being seminary students, and to give the dog a work out.  We would meet at my mail box every morning with a "morning Ralph." "morning, Sam" greeting (bonus if you know where that's from) and we'd hit the road.

I learned something important through our runs.

Actually many things.

Having a running partner is great for accountability.  When it's "too cold" or "too rainy" or you're "too tired" just seeing your partner out there at the mail box, stretching his legs, is enough to get me out there for a run.

As an extrovert, I love running with someone and talking the whole time.  That kind of conversation time, 5 days a week, multiplied by months, builds close friendships.  We'd talk about all kinds of things, many of them silly, but also serious stuff.  It was cool running a marathon together many years later and catching right back where we left off (on the marathon, we decided we would plant a church together, and the staff meetings would be long-mileage runs).

When you're running with a dog, always be on your toes.  My dog would stop and start and turn with no notice.  Nate and I used to "judge" each other on how gracefully we'd avoid the leash.

Also, when you're running with a dog, make sure to bring extra bags.  Enough said.

It was during this time that I began to really enjoy just running.  We weren't running races (not many, anyway - I only remember running maybe 4 different races over the 4 years I was in Kentucky), but that didn't matter.  It was all about the running.

My Running History: Chapter 4

Chapter four is a gloomy chapter in my running history.  It's where I ran away from running.  It started with playing two sports in the same season (cross country and soccer).  Because I had earned a varsity letter in cross country, I had decided that, were there a conflict, I would choose running.  I preferred soccer, and I had been named the captain of the team, but I had decided that I had a responsibility to the cross country team as a varsity letter winner.  Unfortunately the conflict came to a head, not between soccer and cross country, but between church camp and cross country.  Every year I went to church camp, but this particular year it conflicted with cross country practice.  I asked the coach if he wanted a camp counselor to verify my miles (I woke up early every morning to run 5-6 miles, which was quite the accomplishment, considering how much sleep I got (or not) that week). As it turned out, I wasn't eligible for the first meet, so I went to a soccer game instead.  The coach was extremely unhappy, and he called my house.  I wasn't home, but instead of asking me to call him back (or waiting until practice the next day), he cussed my sister out.  And suspended me for 3 days.  I didn't care about the suspension; but here's the thing: nobody treated my sister like that (I didn't even treat her like that, and this was in the height of the days in which we didn't get along).

So I quit.

I continued to run track - I loved running track. I even loved the speed workouts, usually trying to run all of my splits faster than I was supposed to (if I was supposed to run a 75 second 400, I'd run 72). I ran the 3200m, the 1600m, and the 800m, and the long jump.  I wasn't very good at the long jump (I was in the mid 15 feet).  I wasn't very fast in the 800m (my fastest time was in the 2:08 range - not fast enough to make our 4x800 relay team).  As a junior, I primarily ran the 3200 (not all that fast, but fast enough to score 1 point in our conference meet... which we won by 1 point - running as our #2 3200m runner all season and scoring in the conference meet was enough for my varsity letter).  My fastest time, if I recall correctly, was 11:20. I liked the mile best, but we had some really strong mile runners, so my fastest time of 4:40 wasn't fast enough for varsity.

As a senior, I was involved in a minor discipline infraction (some of us were goofing around in practice and got in trouble for it), but the way the head coach chose to deal with it really upset me.  Instead of talking about the infraction (or even on the need for a little maturity from me, as a senior), he got personal.  He focused on my times not dropping (mostly because of how hard I was working - I was confident that my times would drop significantly when I began to taper for the important meets), and he told me the team didn't need me.

So I quit. I told him that if my times weren't dropping and if the team didn't need me, and since I wasn't going to run track in college, maybe my time would be better spent playing soccer and hanging out with my friends.

And that pretty much summed up my running history for the next seven years.  I ran one 5K race when I was in college (disaster - I fell on a patch of ice and took two runners out), but it wasn't until seminary when I started running with any sort of regularity.

Lonely Leadership and Tender Hearts

Yesterday morning I mentioned the fact that being a pastor is lonely.  I wasn't saying it to do the whole "poor me" thing - I don't feel sorry for myself and I have learned that leadership can be lonely - not just as a pastor, but in other places of leadership as well.(If you want a well-written article about lonely pastors, complete with statistics, here to read one). I was quoting Erwin McManus, who said, "ironically the less genuine community we have, the more we create artificial communities.”

Honestly, several times I have started and discarded a blog post about loneliness...

Anyway, I made this statement and then went on. After the second service, someone came up to me and said, "I'm ashamed; you've been here two years and I haven't had your family to my house." then went on to suggest a cook out later this spring/summer.  And thought of several other people to invite.

First of all, it just sounded like a good idea - I like cook outs and hanging out.  But as I was thinking about it more, it was a demonstration of how tender some people's hearts are.  The point of using myself as an illustration was simply to show that many people create artificial community, but this person heard "my pastor is lonely" - and immediately came to the conclusion: ... and I can do something about it!"

This is a great reminder to me of how wonderful some people are.  When we went to New Knoxville, there were a couple of people (you know who you are) who absolutely went out of their way to make us feel welcome, to make us feel like part of their families (including inviting us over for traditional "family" holidays).  They remain special people in my heart.

It's also a reminder of how powerful the words spoken from the pulpit can be.  I pray that as I continue to preach, that I will continue to listen to the Holy Spirit, giving me the words to speak.

My Running History, Chapter 3

By seventh grade, I had become the long distance runner of my school. Cross country season could be boiled down to one word: undefeated.  During track season, the only time I didn't win the mile run was in a huge invitational, in which I was running against 7th and 8th graders.  All season I was running in the mid 5:25 range, and the day of the city meet, I found out that the city record was 5:25.3.  I had been running less than 1 second over the record all year with my race strategy of running with the other team's top runner for 3 laps and smoking him on the final lap. As an aside, that strategy helped me make friends with the top runners from all of the other middle schools, which helped as we all joined together in 8th grade as part of the same team.  I remember the city meet 1600m run vividly; someone (a fan? a parent? I'd never seen him before) was standing just past the start line, and at the 400m mark, he shouted to me that I had 20 yards on the next guy: go for it!  Then he called out my splits, telling me that the record was within my grasp.  I finished in 5:14 flat, shattering the old record by 11.3 seconds!

Things changed a bit when I went "downtown" - all of the middle schools were consolidated into one school.  So my former competitors became my teammates. Those were good times, being pushed by Tim and Richard to run my fastest, setting the course record at the Highland Park course (I loved that course, mostly because of the numerous uphill climbs - I was always good at hills).

There was so much drama in middle school, and running was a welcome escape. We would run all over downtown Kokomo - to parks (Summers Park, and it's infamous hill workout), and frequently through the cemetery, where our coach would have us search for certain gravestones or see who could find the oldest one, where we would end up our workouts by running "pete and repeat" laps (trying to beat our time).

I experienced my first running injury during my eight grade year; we were running in Summers Park and on the way down the hill, I fell on a root, twisting my ankle. I just lay there on the ground, mostly because I was tired, not because my ankle hurt that much.  By the time the coach got there, though, it had started swelling... the doctor diagnosed a bad sprain. I missed a big meet and a big soccer game for that injury.

Probably the biggest moment for me was when the high school cross-country coach approached me at a meet.  He encouraged me to come out for the high school team the next year, that I would be a good addition to the team.  I definitely looked up to the high school runners... and so as a freshman, I found myself running with them.  I was our #1 junior varsity runner - all the while playing soccer (in the same season) for our newly started Kokomo Soccer Club.

I loved being part of the cross country team; I liked the camaraderie we shared and the fun we had while running.  I liked the parties we had - the pool party at one team member's house and impromptu pizza party/TP session the night before a big meet.

At the end of the season, we went to the tournament.  But one important thing had happened; there had been some discipline infractions, and several team members were suspended.  They returned from suspension right before the Sectional meet, and they competed.  One of them, however, hadn't trained, and he tanked.  So, for the Regional meet, the team needed a seventh runner, so the top two JV runners had a run-off to determine who would run in the Regional.

I had a cold, but I ran the best race of my life.  16:57 over a 3 mile road course (which would adjust to about a 17:30 for a true 5K).  I got the honor of running as seventh man for the team on the Regional champion team, earning me my first varsity letter.

I got to go on to the Semi-State race, and I made my first (and biggest) running mistake ever: I went out wayyyy too fast.  At about the 800m mark, I looked around and saw the elite runners of the state.  Only.  It was then that I realized I was running too fast.  Shortly thereafter, I felt a burning pain in my hips, like nothing I had ever experienced, and I knew my race was over.  I finished in about 100th place (out of something like 125 runners) - in my slowest time ever (though probably around what I run now as a PR!!!).

Spring Break, Part 2: Sanibel Island

When I think of a vacation to Florida, my first thought is... the beach. The one pictured to the left is our "night beach" where we went every evening to enjoy the shelling and the creatures in the tide pools.  Jonathan was very good about "saving" sea stars. There were some other creatures that we didn't quite know what they were, but we figured out that if you touched them, they would squirt at you.  This became Jonathan's favorite activity!  He and Andrew would search for them and try to get them to squirt water at them.

Camping at Sanibel was interesting; the one campground on the island only had a little corner dedicated to tent camping, and it was primitive. But it was also pretty well empty.  We were warned that the road noise would be bad, but it turned out that it just reminded us of home.  And just like home, the beach was an easy bike ride from the house/tent.  Except that here, the beach was, well, slightly different.  The Gulf of Mexico or Buckeye Lake.  Take your pick.  But I bet you won't see dolphins swimming in Buckeye Lake (like we did almost every day in the gulf).

Sanibel was a great place for us.  The atmosphere was extremely easy-going and laid-back.  The only time we even looked at a watch was on Sunday, when we wanted to make it to church on time.  We did some different activities, usually something in the morning, the beach in the afternoon, and the "night beach" in the evening. The evenings were the only time when we could go for walks on the beach; when we went to the beach during the day, the boys were all about playing in the sand (usually in a big hole - especially ones that other kids had previously dug).We took a bike ride through the "Ding" Darling Nature Preserve one day, and that was really nice.  Sanibel is also extremely bike-friendly.  There are bike paths everywhere (and bikes everywhere).  We were glad we brought ours (and the tagalongs for the boys).

It did rain one day, but that wasn't so bad, because it was Sunday; we spent all morning in church in Ft. Myers, went out to eat, and then went to a children's museum all afternoon.  When we returned, much of the campground was flooded, but our tent was almost completely dry (except for the corner of my blanket and Tara's sleeping bag - no problem: I threw them in the dryer and they were as good as new). 

We loved Sanibel, but we had to leave there on Monday, headed for Fort De Soto County Park (near St. Pete).  I'll cover this in my next vacation post.

What I did on my Spring Vacation

Before this April, I had never taken a vacation longer than 10 days.  We had not yet taken the boys on a camping vacation (though we have camped out several times with them).  The boys had not yet been to Florida.  All of that changed in April, as we embarked on a 3 week vacation.

Our destination: Florida. We got there via Kentucky (they've been to Kentucky before; that's where Grandma and Grandpa live - albeit on the other side of the state), Tennessee (a new state for them), Georgia (where we camped our first night), and finally, Florida!

We visited O'Leno State Park, where we hiked and saw our first (and second) alligators. It rained in the night, but it was dry in our tent, and by the time we got back from our hike, everything was dry enough to pack up and head on south.

We went to central Florida, where we met up with our friend, Richard Zinck. He's one of our snowbirds - winters in Florida, summers in Ohio (we decided that the snowbirds are the smart ones). We were planning on camping near his house so we could visit him, but he arranged a house for us to stay in!  We had a lot of fun in central Florida - we played a lot of mini-golf and shuffleboard, we visited the Tampa Zoo, we went to a really cool park in Lakeland, and we went to church with Richard.

We got to see all kinds of wildlife there - I saw a bobcat (which had unfortunately lost its battle with a vehicle), we saw an armadillo (also roadkill), there was an alligator in the pond in Richard's community, and then there was the little snake (pictured to the right).  Don't worry; it had already lost its battle with humans, too.

At the zoo, Andrew was having a good time until he got licked and "bonked" by a giraffe. As far as zoos go, Columbus Zoo is better!  At the Tampa zoo, we felt completely inundated by their marketing; everywhere you looked, something was for sale.  They even had a "feed the giraffe" booth ($2 for a cracker).  We stood in line but did not buy a cracker.  And the giraffe paid attention to us anyway. Too much attention, if you were to ask Andrew.

From Lakeland, we headed south to Sanibel Island.  This was a good choice of destinations for us.  We thought about going to the Keys, but it was going to cost a lot more and we would have had to drive a lot longer, especially to go out to Key West, and, well, honestly we didn't want to be in the van by this time!

In my next post, I'll take you to Sanibel.

My Running History, Part 2

Starting middle school was a big deal; no longer would I attend the school just down the street from my house. No longer would I be in one class with one teacher all day.  And no longer would I be guaranteed to see (my best friends) Jeremy and Darrell every day. On the first day of school, I met my new classmates.  One classmate (David C) I had already met on the soccer field, and we immediately became best friends. As we were walking upstairs one day that first week, we saw a sign advertising call-outs for the cross-country team.  David asked me, "Are you going to run cross-country?" I said, "Yes."  And we did.

Cross country practice on the first day consisted of me, wearing my clunky basketball high top shoes, running around the school yard.  I quickly realized that these were not the shoes to wear for long distance running!

My dad found me a pair of black Pony shoes (complete with orange stripe - my school colors) and I wore them proudly to top-ten finishes all year.  I think I still have the ribbons.  My proudest moments of sixth grade cross-country were finishing second to my teammate, the unbeatable Marc Dubbels and a fifth place finish in the city county meet.

Cross-country was never the big name or popular sport, but I loved running.  Practice was always just running around the school yard (which I always liked), and meets were fun.  Our team was good (we went 1-2-3-4-6 in the meet in which I placed 2nd), so I'm sure that helped. 

In the spring, I joined the track team. I got to run around that cinder track (again and again and again). We had a good team again - city meet winners (and I was a double winner, surprisingly taking the 400 and being on the winning 4x100 relay team).  During the season, I tried my hand at the 200m, 400m, 4x100 relay, 110m low hurdles, long jump, and shot put.  I was a terrible hurdler and shot-putter, and was OK in the long jump - though I never had a realistic chance to win, as Johnny Alsup was on my team, already jumping 18 feet), but I loved the running events (even the sprint relay!).

My Running History, part 1.

The first sport I remember wanting to participate in was running.  I remember riding past the local middle school and seeing the track and wishing my dad would stop the car so I could run on the track (though I don't remember ever actually asking him to stop).  This wasn't one of your super-nice all-weather tracks (like the one we recently got installed here in Millersport); this was an old cinder track.  But I wanted to run on it.

Every time we went to Scotty's Sandwich Junction (a Kokomo local chain burger restaurant that served great tenderloin sandwiches and always had good coupons) or Taco Grande ($.39 tacos and all-you-can-drink pop refills before anyone was doing that), we'd drive past Maple Crest Middle school, and I would wish to run on the track.

I eventually did get to run on that track - in sixth and seventh grade, I ran at Maple Crest.  I don't know how many miles I put in on that track - my track practice usually consisted of me hitting the track and running laps until practice was done.  In 7th grade, I consistently ran miles in the mid 5:25s on that track (I found out the day of the city meet that all season I was less than a second off the city record - in the city meet, I broke the record by running 5:14, but that was on the all-weather track at the high school).  These many years later, I just wish I could run that fast!