Waiting for the Spring Runoff

By Don Otis –

He was born in China the son of missionaries. In 1924, he competed in the Olympics, a Scottish runner who famously said, “God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” Eric Liddell’s inspirational story was told in the 1981 film, Chariots of Fire.

The truth is that we aren’t all fast like Liddell was. Some of us are slow. We struggle and suffer through workouts and would rather do almost anything but run. There are, however, others who persevere through workouts in the winter and by spring start thinking about entering local races. It is a good way to remain motivated and do something with your hard work on the treadmill.

If you have never entered a race, there are many distances–5K (3.1 miles), 10K (6.2), Half Marathon (13.1 miles), and Marathon are the most popular. There are trail runs, hill climbs, charity events, and everything in between. In my home town in Colorado we have a Blossom Festival 5K and 5 mile run on trails along the Arkansas River.

I want to encourage you to set some goals for this spring and enter a local race. There are many good reasons: having something to focus your efforts toward, the encouragement that comes from joining other people in a healthy activity, or discovering how you measure up to others in your age category. These are just a few benefits beside the obvious health payback. So, how do you get started? Here are a few tips.

1. Check with your local Parks & Recreation Department to find out if they sponsor any events in your community. Then, get registered. This is the first step–commitment.
2. Depending on the length of event you select (don’t sign up for a marathon if you’ve never done a race before) prepare yourself accordingly. If you want to run a 10K, be prepared to do slow training runs of between 6-8 miles.
3. Weekly runs should include one longer run, one tempo run (shorter distance at the pace you want to run on race day), some limited speed work (shorter intervals).
4. Cross train on off days or rest. Plan on running 4-5 days a week. You should do your long run and tempo run after a light day. You can swim or cycle on off days but don’t overdo these days. You want to feel fresh on days when your workouts are toughest.
5. On race day, go out slow and finish strong. The best runners understand that going out too fast will cost them dearly at the end of the race. We call these negative splits where the first half of a race is slightly slower than the second half. This requires enormous discipline on race day because you are rested and ready to go.
6. A few weeks before you race, go easy on weight-training. Rest more in the last week or two. Good runners know that going into a race fresh is part of the balance between a good time and a frustrating experience.
7. Don’t over-train. This means that you bump up your mileage or speed slowly. Your body must adapt to any new workload. If you want to avoid injury, don’t suddenly go from running 15 miles a week to trying 25 or 30.

In more than thirty years I have done more than 100 races of all kinds. I remember when my boys were small, they’d ask, “Dad, why do you go to these races because you never win!” It was one of those teachable moments. I told them, “I run to do the best I can.”

Comment below and let me know how your journey goes!

Flames That Twirl

By Pam Kumpe –

Have you ever set a fire?

One summer, baton camp ended with flames, ashes and fire trucks.

I was in middle school and that summer my twin Mel and I joined several hundred other girls for a two-week stay at a college campus in the mountains of Arizona.

The daily schedule included classes of varying kinds for all levels and ages. We competed in small contests, learned new routines, and reunited with our friends from the summer before.

Our housing included dorms on the college campus and on opposite sides of the grounds in another set of dorms. Some of our best friends ended up across campus. My twin and I stayed in a dorm far away from them.

We wanted to be near them, so Mel and I took on the names of two girls who didn’t care where they slept. We then traded rooms via the fire escape.

We became Jennifer and Sally, the two girls from dorm G, while Jennifer and Sally became Pam and Mel, and they moved into our room in dorm T.

One day in the cafeteria, the worker asked the girls with tags, Pam and Mel if they were fraternal twins since they didn’t look alike. I had instructed them to say all the right things.

All week, no one caught on, not until the day everything went up in flames.

Our teacher had moved our group to the street for safety reasons, so if we dropped our fire batons, nothing burned up—at least in theory.

She, along with her assistants, soaked the wicks on the end of our batons in gasoline. We held them out in front of us as the ends were lit.

I have a knack for bumping, dropping, and creating mishaps—and this teacher had no idea how dangerous I might be to myself and others.

Then it happened, my right hand twitched. I looked up to the sky, and without thinking, I opted for a high toss. One quick toss and I’d catch it. But the baton sailed upward in a ball of fire and beauty twirls.

And never came down.

My baton got stuck on a limb of this giant tree and hovered over the class of girls. The flames on the end of my baton swept like a whirlwind of orange, consuming the leaves and tiny branches, and the tree burst into a ball of flames.

The homeowner rushed to the street. She screamed. I screamed. My sister screamed. The teacher screamed. A choir of panic set in and someone called the fire department.

After the fire trucks left and their water hoses doused the flames, my nightmare ended. Now all eyes were on me. I became the girl who started a fire at camp.

Talk about a horrible, no-good, very bad day.

Oh, and remember the real Jennifer and Sally, the girls who traded rooms with us? For some reason they didn’t want to be involved in our shenanigans anymore and we had to move back to our old dorm.

To make matters worse, the camp director caught wind of the fire, heard about our trading rooms and assuming new names. Yes, you guessed it, more scolding took place. Well, at least Mel was in on this one.

Before the director sent us on our way, he director shared how we had been candidates for campers of the week. Had been. Have you ever watched your day go up in flames? Have you wished to be someone else?

Well, I learned one thing from that fiery day—there’s always another day, another class, another opportunity to twirl, another toss to make. The key is to be you and remember there’s a God above who removes mistakes. He’s slow to anger, unlike that teacher I had at camp, and God is always compassionate toward me, unlike the director. And no matter if I cause the fire, or not, He is ready to lift me from the ashes.

Speaking of compassion, my twin and I did receive camper of the week at the closing ceremony—even though those few hot moments almost took our prize away.

By the time I attended high school, I’d become pretty good with the fire baton.

That is, until the night I caught the football field on fire—but not to worry, they didn’t need fire trucks this time.

Sometimes Winning is Losing

By Connie Cavanaugh –

I love Coupon Day at my local grocery store. You save 15 percent on every hundred bucks you spend. We’re talking pizza for supper! For free! (That’s femonomics, where spending is actually saving.)

One Coupon Day long ago, an item on my list was underwear — I never bought my own until my mother died. At the tender age of 36, I was cruelly thrust into the world of shopping for big girl panties.

A stroll through the aisles confirmed they did not carry my brand but I found my preferred style: I want the whole whale, not just the tail if you get my drift. I chose two packages marked M.

I finished shopping, pocketed my 15 percent and grinned all the way home. I ripped into the first bag and pulled out … a crib sheet with leg holes! I grabbed the package – “M”. As in Mega?

I was steamed. Although I had read the sign in the department saying “No Returns” I felt wronged. There were no samples on the wall. How was I to know not all “M’s” were equal? I headed back to the store.

I couldn’t find my cashier so I chose another near my age. “These are not the size they claim to be and I want to return them,” I whispered, smiling and nodding.

“But madam, there are no returns on….” She smiled and nodded too. We looked like two wooden bobbing birds with a water glass between us.

“Ah, yes. I read the sign,” I murmured. “However, the manufacturer is lying to the customer regarding the size.” I raised my eyebrows and gave one slow nod.

The line of carts grew. Children whined. Mothers grew restless. The cashier and I both stood our ground. She called for reinforcements. A skinny kid strode up. I doubted if he even shaved yet. “Is there a problem?”

I repeated my complaint ending with: “This M must mean Much Much More!” He failed to see the humor.

He leaned toward me. “There. Are. No. Returns. On…,”

I snapped. Grabbing the opened package, I pulled out an M for display. “I’m no Tinkerbell, but does this look like a Medium to you?!” Mothers covered their kids’ eyes. The manager’s face went gray.

“Give her a full refund,” he rasped and dashed.

But the cashier still had some fight in her. “I will refund you for the sealed package, “she huffed, “but not the opened one.” We locked eyes. No more smiles.

“What do you think I did? Wore them all over town? Then washed them, dried them, and ironed these creases back in? I bought them 30 minutes ago!”

She harrumphed, punched some keys, stabbed at some bills, dropped the money into my hand and dismissed me with a toss of her head.

As soon as the cash hit my hand I had a Judas moment. Instead of celebrating my victory I was filled with remorse. When I could have represented the Jesus in me who turns the other cheek, gives the shirt off His back and goes the second mile (Matt 5:39-42) I showed them the Judas who, for a handful of silver, bullishly pursues his/her own agenda.

Thankfully this lesson wasn’t wasted. I became more conscious and careful of whom I represent in all my interactions. The next time I accidentally bought something too big I passed it along to a friend of mine. She never calls anymore….

Church vs. Jesus

By Janet Morris Grimes –

Church—as much a part of my life as brushing my teeth. There are few Sundays that I don’t recall being there. Walking in late, perhaps, but fulfilling my spot on the second pew, with pride.

Three years ago, a move to a state 10 hours away forced me to find a new church. But soon, I settled in to the front row, ready to worship on a weekly basis.

Attending church is a habit that can be viewed many different ways. Many people attend for the social interaction, the family atmosphere, the children’s or youth programs, the worship experience, or the motivational speaking.

I treasure each of those things.

It’s the magnetic pull of a face-to-face encounter with Jesus that makes me walk through those doors. I need to kneel at the cross, as if Jesus and I were the only two people in the room. I need to be held accountable for my actions, to let go of my doubts, to deepen my relationship. I need to be whacked upside the head with a different viewpoint, to change my way of thinking and in the process, continue to change my life.

I need my life to look much different, because I’ve centered it on Jesus, than it would on its own.

That is why I attend church.

But at times, I fear church, as an institution, becomes more focused on itself than on Jesus. With small groups, committees, events, programs, budgets, worship preferences, elder appointments, class schedules, potluck luncheons, food drives, and membership directories, it can be difficult to walk in the door and find Jesus.

And I should be good at this worship thing by now. Imagine what it might feel like to a newcomer, a visitor, the one who seeks God for the first time.

Church should always be about Jesus. Without His presence, the church can become a club for really nice people.

I know enough now to seek Jesus on a daily basis. I cannot depend on the church to do that for me. It is a personal relationship, seven days a week.

But never let it be said that church gets in the way of finding Jesus. I don’t want to argue worship preferences. I want to find Jesus. I don’t want to lament the change to a new service time. I want to find Jesus. I don’t want to criticize the pastor, I want to find Jesus.

It is only once we kneel together as one at the foot of the cross, that we find Jesus. Only then, can we go into the world and be the church to them.

The church is the body of Christ—a group of people learning to be more like Jesus. The church is not a building, an institution, or a social activity. Attending is not a ritual that we choose because our grandmothers did it for 90 years before us. And it’s not a club for really nice people.

But never let it be said that church gets in the way of finding Jesus. Because when this happens, it may be time to find a new church.

Weak, and Proud of It

By Cheri Cowell –

“I just can’t go on,” the cry for help rises as a chorus from thousands of counseling rooms around the country.

There are many reasons for this cry, but one of the most common is despair and depression. I’m not talking about clinical depression, and if you have been feeling this way for a long time and it is affecting your ability to function, please see a counselor, for no one should have to suffer when help is available.

The kind of despair and depression I am referring to is a sense that the world’s problems are just too big, and we see ourselves as powerless and overwhelmed by the magnitude of the demands on our time and ability.

But God has an answer for our despair. It is called grace.

God’s grace is His unearned and undeserved favor. It is God, withholding what we deserve and instead giving us His acceptance and love. When He says His grace is sufficient, He is saying that when we fully realize He is giving us His love instead of what we deserve, that should be enough for us. If we were sufficient in ourselves and did not need His grace, then we could handle all of life’s problems on our own and we wouldn’t need Him.

However, since we are not sufficient and are instead weak and powerless, we need Him. It is only because we need Him, because we are weak, that He can be strong for us. His strength is made perfect in our weaknesses. When we see our weaknesses as opportunities for God to show His power, we can join Paul in saying, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”

PRAYER: I praise You, God, for Your unmerited favor, for Your sufficient grace. Help me when I am feeling weak, to see my weakness as an opportunity for You to show Your power through me.

“But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9 NIV).

 

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