There She Goes...

Well, Ashleigh Marie Newell is now officially a freshman at Charleston Southern University. Move-in day was yesterday, and it was surprisingly smooth. There are flat, open grassy areas next to the freshmen ladies' dorms, so we could pull the cars near the entrance. The football team and marching band were all there to help new arrivals carry things into their rooms. Ashleigh's roommate, Kerriann, met us soon after we parked and grabbed some of her marching band buddies to help us. We were unloaded in about 10 minutes. We spent a little time getting the major items arranged in the room (microwave, coffee pot, bed, etc.). Ashleigh is the new keyboard player for Elevate (the campus worship band), so a couple of those guys popped in to help us move her equipment to their storage area. We ate lunch together at The Caf, filled her car up with gas, gave her some extra cash and said our goodbyes.

I'll admit that leaving her there was the tough part. From the moment we almost lost her at birth, I have understood that Ashleigh does not belong to Cindy and me. She belongs to God, and we were only caretakers for a period of time. She is ready to fly, and to follow the path that God has set before her. Knowing that fact is the biggest comfort, but we are human and will readily admit to shedding many tears on the way back, even John choked up a little when he hugged her goodbye. Jessica? She just wants to know when she can have her sister's bedroom with the private bathroom. Sorry, kid... ain't happenin'.

So, off we go to the next chapter in life. It will be different, but good. Although, it's going be more than a little strange when the 1030 band takes the stage in the morning to lead worship and you-know-who is not behind the keyboards on my left...

It's The Same Sky

It's no secret that I love Massachusetts, specifically, Cape Cod. One of my favorite things about the Cape is the sky. Whether it's watching the sunset over Cape Cod Bay, or catching a sunrise over the North Atlantic, the colors are spectacular. A few years ago as we watched the sunset at Campground beach, Uncle Peter remarked that no two sunsets are ever the same. You know, he's right. They are each unique and have been known to draw applause from the neighbors gathered by the shore each evening.

One Sunday morning, a couple of weeks ago, Cindy and I were doing the "get out the kinks after the long run" workout before church. As we ran through Elisha Park we came up over the hill where the path turns back toward the east. The sun had just begun to rise but had not quite peeked over the treeline. I looked up and noticed the colors, reds, yellows, oranges, a tinge of purple... "Oh, wow!", was my spontaneous response, "how beautiful." As we made our way back home, I did some thinking about that sunrise, and I realized that the view was just as beautiful as any on the Cape. As a matter of fact, all things being equal, the Cape sunrise that same morning was likely just as stunning. Then the most elementary of all concepts struck me anew... it's the same sky.... in Massachusetts and in South Carolina.... it's the same sky... I'm the one that moved.

Isn't my relationship with God just like that in a way? He is there, always. Same location. Same beauty. Same power. Same love, mercy and grace. The view seems different because I was the one who moved. He is perpetual. I am intermittent.

Major whining for 800 meters

I still love running, although this week I've decided that there are two days in each week when I do not like it very much.

I completed my first marathon barely standing, and the next couple weren't much better. So in a quest for speed and endurance, I visited a running coach who suggested I try speedwork. "Doesn't sound so bad", I thought to myself. "Might even be a fun change of pace." Boy was I wrong. Now, every Tuesday we do Yasso 800's and on Thursdays we do a tempo run. I'll explain....

Though named for Runner's World writer Bart Yasso, the Yasso 800 was actually invented by Lucifer himself. The theory is actually innocent enough. If you want to run a marathon in 4 hours, train to run ten 800 meter intervals each in 4 minutes, with a full 400 meter recovery in between each repeat. So, this insidious method of torture goes like this:
1) warm-up 1 mile at an easy pace
2) sprints (aka gassers, suicides, Herbies). 100 meters at a time at max speed, total 1 mile
3) 10 x 800m intervals, 400m recovery following each one
4) cool-down 1 mile at an easy pace.

The tempo run is only slightly less fun:
1) warm-up 1 mile at an easy pace
2) sprints (see above) total 1 mile
3) 5 miles at a pace 1.5 - 2 minutes faster than marathon pace, no recovery periods
4) cool-down 1 mile at an easy pace.

In warmer weather these workouts can be a challenge. The humidity levels make breathing extremely difficult for me, and sometimes I even feel like I have an elephant sitting on my chest. I've discovered that eating too soon before one of these is a very bad thing (reversals are not fun.... ever try to hurl and run at the same time?). I hate these workouts, but they are pure magic. Over the last couple of years I've lowered my marathon PR by 45 minutes. I've also noticed a dramatic improvements in both my endurance over the last 6.2 miles of a race and my post-race recovery.

I love to run, I just wanted to whine. I'll stop now. sorry...

But Why Would You Want To?

The thrill of victory.

The agony of defeat.

A few days after I ran my first marathon, a friend at church asked me if I had done anything interesting over the previous weekend. When I very proudly informed him of my accomplishment, he just looked at me with his head cocked to one side and appeared quite puzzled. "But why would you want to?", was his reply. That set me to thinking.... and here's the answer....

I love to run. I love going out at 5:00am, seeing the stars, watching the sunrise, feeling the breeze, listening to the birds. I suppose I could be pious and claim that I pray when I run, or worship when I run, or sing hymns when I run. Being a Christian, I suppose those would be the things most people would expect to hear, but my passion for the sport reaches a deeper level. Don't get me wrong, sometimes I do those things, but that's not why I hit the streets before dawn to travel 20 miles in a huge circle.

The music is perpetual, and when I run, so is the hearing. Simply put, I run because it reminds me of who I am in God's eyes. When I feel my heart beating, it brings to mind my ultimate goal, to have my spiritual heartbeat in perfect, synchronous rhythm with the heartbeat of my Creator. Climbing the hills, I have confidence that I can reach out and find my second and third wind, that spiritual rock, that fortress upon whom my life is built. When my legs burn and my lungs ache, I press on because my Saviour endured and completed his mission. The climbs, the downhills and the flats remind of how uneven life truly has been and will be. I sprint to the finish because heaven is my goal and when my time on earth is done, I intend to be totally gassed, to have nothing left to give. The long distance run is the perfect metaphor in my relationship with God.

"I was just running." -- Forrest Gump

Ashleigh made it back from Charleston this evening.... Cindy and Jessi arrived in Kansas City... and John and I watch massive episodes of Home Improvement on DVD... can life get any better?

Our July 4th holiday was good.... we managed to accomplish our goal of watching the Nathan's Hot Dog eating contest. Kudos to the new champ, Joey Chestnutt of California.... 66 HDBs in 12 minutes.... life is good, indeed...

Getting Ready For The 4th

Because of our school calendar, the Fourth Of July holiday represents the midpoint of our summer season. We're getting ready for the holiday. The banks are closed and I'm off tomorrow. Woo-hoo!!!

It's been a busy summer so far. Ashleigh, John and Jessica all attended Student Life Camp in Black Mountain, NC. Ashleigh worked on staff at a Student Life Camp in Myrtle Beach, SC. John and Jessica helped staff our church's Vacation Bible School. Next week Cindy and Jessica will travel to Kansas City, MO, for a conference. Later in the month John and Jessica will help staff a local sports camp, and Ashleigh will work on staff at one more Student Life Camp in Lynchburg, VA. Sounds like a lot of stuff going happening here, huh?

So.... in the middle of all that.... the holiday. We're not quite sure what to do yet. Sleeping in late is a given. So is firing up the grill. Around noon I suppose we'll turn on the TV and try to catch the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Championship from Coney Island. It's been televised for the past two years. It's quite possibly the grossest thing I've ever witnessed (much worse than anything the producers of "Fear Factor" ever imagined), but I just can't tear myself away. We also always try to watch "Pops Goes The Fourth" from Boston, but it's not always televised here. Maybe some day we will score some VIP seats from Maestro Lockhart (we are, after all, Phi Mu Alpha brothers from Furman days), but I won't hold my breath.

At some point before, during or after the celebrating, I hope we can all take some time to reflect on the history of Independence Day. I found this really cool website on the Declaration of Independence. http://www.ushistory.org/declaration/ It contains some interesting biographical information on the signers.

When I was child, my family watched the Red Skelton show every week (that was a time, of course, when parents could view prime time network television with their children without wincing at least three times per half-hour). Recently I came across the following commentary on the Pledge Of Allegiance by Red Skelton. http://www.spiritisup.com/pledgeofallegiance.html Food for thought... I hope we all have a safe and happy Independence Day. Let's go Red Sox!

Cindy Is The Music

Well.... as we've all heard by now, the music is perpetual, it is the hearing that is intermittent... and boy, I'm straining to hear it tonight....

Cindy went down to Scranton to visit her Mom and see her brand new nephew. She took Jessica with her, Ashleigh and John opting to stay with me. Don't get me wrong, please! That's all fine, and those are good things. Eleanor loves to have Cindy come down for visits and Cindy gets a chance to spend some time with her. But the problem is I have this weird feeling again, like a part of me is missing.

In a few more weeks, we'll celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary. I think I love her more now than I did when we married. Is that even possible? I can't stand the thought of being away from her, even for one night. God has blessed me with the most wonderful companion imaginable. She is my mate in every sense of the word. When she leaves, even for a brief time, all I can think about is when I will see her again.

Ok, ok... so I'm a sap and I should get over it... quit whining.... deal with it! It's only one night, give me a stinkin' break!!

I don't think so.

You see, Cindy and I fell in love when she was playing in the pit orchestra for a production of South Pacific at Furman University. I think I went to every rehearsal, just see see her during breaks and walk her back to her dorm afterward. And, in the heartfelt words of Emile... "once you have found her, never let her go".

A little louder, please, Emile. She's about a hundred miles away.