That Moment

That moment when the alarm sounds at 5 am on a Sat morning
That moment when you wonder if all of your gear is ready
That moment when you are driving to meet the running group
That moment when the air is chilly
That moment when all you want to do is go home and go back to bed
That moment when your GPS watch is not syncing
That moment when you take the first step towards a run
That moment when you wonder why you are doing this at all
That moment when you are still cold
That moment when you grumble internally at the decision to get up and run so early
That moment when your body warms up
That moment when you sweat begins to trickle down your face
That moment when you arrive at the turn around point
That moment when you have willed your body into doing what you desire, not what it wants
That moment when you know defeated the alarm clock, the temperature, the desire to crawl back into bed is when you won the race.
That moment, is what you live for!
And that moment is when you know you will...
Keep Running!

It's Just Pain

It's Just Pain

One of the questions I am often asked is "How is the foot feeling?" I reply honestly with "It hurts; it's painful."  The typical response is one of empathy.  I simply shrug it off and say "It's just pain."  I realize that my foot will most likely be in pain for the rest of my life.  With a Lisfranc injury, that is just how it is.

It's just pain.  Do you ever think about it?  I mean, when you aren't hurting, do you ever consider the pain?  I didn't.  I only thought about discomfort when I was hurting.  Now with every step I take on my right foot, there is pain; sometimes more, sometimes less; sometimes in the middle of the night and sometimes in the middle of the day but there is always pain.

It's just pain.  I am thankful for my injury.  I prayed last week, and with a genuine heart (at least I hope), thanked God for this injury.  He did not cause it, but He is using it.  I have met several people who have similar circumstances; some worse off, some not as catastrophic.  Through this injury, God has encouraged, challenged, supported and inspired.  Through this pain, God has blessed and ministered to people in ways that I could not imagine.

It's just pain.  I suppose that when I stop feeling pain, then I am dead.  I have decided that with every step, with every breath, with every moment of being uncomfortable, I will thank God for being alive.  I will thank God for the opportunity to listen to and care for others who are going through similar circumstances.  Rick Warren has said "God never wastes a hurt."  Indeed, He does not.  What we see as an injury, God sees as a healing touch, what we see as a limp, God sees as a step toward His presence, what we see as pain, God sees as life.  

People can be hurtful, situations in life can sideline us or slow us down, pain can either cause us to stop or make us decide to overcome and live life.  You decide, but after all, it's just pain.

Keep Running,
Steve

Today, I ran!

Today, I ran!  It wasn't far or fast or pretty, but I ran.  I listened to Born to Run, Running on Empty and the theme from Chariots of Fire.

Memories came flooding in:
I was that 10 year little boy who stood up from the wheelchair and walked.
I was that young teenager running on the beach as my dad drove along side me.
I was that 17 year old running 5 miles.
I was that 34 year old, 246 pound pastor who almost passed out when running to the end of the driveway.
I was that man who ran his first 5k.

I have ran in hail and wind and rain and snow.
I have ran uphill and I have ran downhill.
I have ran into a tree.
I have ran in mud, over trees, under trees, around trees, up a creek (without a paddle).
I have ran adventure races, half marathons and marathons.

None of that compares to today.  Four months after an injury and being told by my doctor that my running days were over, today, I ran!

And I will
Keep Running!
Steve

Rev. O.V. Dodson

My Father in Law, O.V. Dodson died Feb 10, 2013.  I was privileged to deliver the message at his funeral.  Here is the transcript:

   MEMORIAL SERVICE FOR

REV. O.V. DODSON

FEB 14, 2013

WILLARD, MO

Today is a day when lovers exchange cards, flowers, gifts.  When those whose heart beat as one, celebrate their love and shout to the world their love, commitment, desire for one another. Today, I want to talk about a love story.  A love story that includes Orville Verdayne Dodson (O.V.). 

But this is not a love story surrounded

with the people he pastored or cared for

with his many grandchildren and great grandchildren

with his step-children

with Janice

with Brian and Dana

with Sharon or Butch

This is not a love story surrounded even with Elaine.

Those are love stories of the heart and dear ones, we could talk for days on end of  O.V.'s love for you and your love for him. 

Rather, I will tell of a love story of the soul.  A song that plays not for a few days, but one that continues through eternity.  A sonnet that reaches to the very depths of where one lives, breathes, exists: the love story of O.V. Dodson and Jesus; The picture of O.V.'s life could be filled with images of his preaching, praying, countless hours visiting those who were ill or sitting with those mourning holding their hands and hearts.  No, the depiction of O.V. is best captured by his love, his deep love for Jesus. His desire to love God and love others.  His desire to serve God and serve others. His desire to point people to the grace of God as expressed through hope in Jesus.   

According to official records, O.V. was 99 when he died.  O.V. counted the day of his birth as his first birthday, so when you asked him how old he was, he would reply that he was 100.  I think he did this just to get a reaction from Janice. O.V. certainly stirred ones heart and brought about a reaction. 

O.V. Dodson was  man of who deeply loved and was loved deeply. He was also a man who could not drive.  If you rode with him, you typically did it once and your prayer life increased.  He loved many people into the arms of Jesus and might have scared a few into His arms as well. 

His prayer life was legendary.  He told me once that he did not keep a prayer list but rather simply prayed for those whom the Lord placed on his heart.  And the heart of O.V. was tremendous. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man accomplishes much.  If O.V. Dodson prayed for you, you were indeed being brought into the presence of The Lord. 

O.V. prayed and walked; 5 miles a day up into his 90's.  In fact, he was prayer walking before it was called prayer walking.  He was 99, or if you use O.V. math, 100.  He did a lot of things before they were in vogue.  One time I asked him what life was like before TV, he replied "TV? I can tell you what life was like before radio!"

The experiences he had riding in the families Model T from MO to ID, jumping a train and getting kicked off in Kansas City, teaching school, playing offensive tackle in football, seminary, marriage, kids and grand kids and great-grand kids, the crackers he carried with him in case restaurants did not have them,  his great love of food and the strange ways he mixed them together, the 58 year marriage with Elaine, the 17 year marriage  with Janice point to the remarkable life he lived. 

His life was full and filled with experiences you and I will never have, save one.  In the spring of 1933, he surrendered his life to Christ and soon thereafter, to the ministry.  As O.V. grew into The Lord, his love of scripture grew.  Ps 121 was a particular favorite. 

Psalm121

1 I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.

2 My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.

3 He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: he that keepeth thee will not slumber.

4 Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep.

5 The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.

6 The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor the moon by night.

7 The Lord shall preserve thee from all evil: he shall preserve thy soul.

8 The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore.

As you think about this scripture, the writer is lifting his eyes while in a valley, while surrounded by those who wish to do him harm.  In military tactics, you want the high ground.  When the enemy is above you, they have the advantage; you are more susceptible to attack.  When the enemy has you surrounded and you are in the low position, you need reinforcements. 

There was a time when O.V. was surrounded, when the witnesses around him were not the ones encouraging him to continue, but the voices telling him to quit, stop, give up hope. He was in the valley and the enemy of depression desired to invade and conquer his life. His beloved wife, Elaine, died. He was heartbroken. 

Jan 2, 1995:

My dearest darling wife, how, after more than 7 months, I miss you still, I'm sure I always will.  This afternoon, Sharon and Dana came by after an afternoon of shopping. Dana had several garments to show me; she was so excited and proud.  I oohed and awed over them, thinking of how you would have gone on about nice and neat they were.  I am so thankful to be able to share their joys, always remembering so vividly and how much you enjoyed our relationship with them.  My joy is dampened because you are not here to share with us and I cant bring you back, but I can come to be with you and our dear Lord who saw us through 58 years together.  Maybe it will be soon.  In the meantime, my heart grieves and I shed tears, but that will all be gone then.  Until that time, I keep plugging along.

O.V. was in a valley of grief.  And as he looked to the hills and asked where does his help come from, he knew, in this love story, his help comes from The Lord!

God indeed preserved his going out and his coming in.  O.V. desired his life to be a reflection of the light of Christ.  His life was surrounded, consumed, by his hope in Christ.  And that is, really, all that we have.  If our hope is in anything other than Christ, we will be disappointed.  I can say with certainty, that O.V.'s identity was not in who he was, or his name or anything other than Christ.  His identity was most assuredly in Christ.  He trusted, to the fullest, that God would provide for him in ways that were beyond comprehension. 

In the midst of the battle, when all seems lost, darkness and weeping may last for the night, but we can take great confidence that joy does, indeed, come in the morning. 

 

The second part of the journal entry: 

Mar 10, 2010

I had no idea what was ahead, but God did.  He revealed it sooner than I realized He would, for in 1995, He brought Janice to my attention soon after her husband, Johns death.  Somehow in His own good way, our minds and hearts blended. So, on Dec 30, 1995, we publicly exchanged marriage vows and have had 15 (17) good years together.  Praise and thank God for His ministry to a grieving heart.  O.V. Mar 20, 2010

O.V. experienced first hand the deliverance and the hope of The Lord.  His life was filled with this promise; grace and mercy of The Lord were with him. 

God's love, sacrifice, goodness, and kindness kept O.V. plugging along. 

Even in a place where he was surrounded, his HOPE was in The Lord for his restoration.  His love story is what carried him through the night until joy returned in the morning. 

O.V. was a godly man and his love story was one of faith.  I am confident that had he lived during the period scriptures were written, we might have Romans, 1 Cor, 2 Cor, 1 O.V., 2 O.V. 

His life was a life of faith that was found in the perfect and long-suffering grace of Christ. 

Although he was not known as a patient man--when it was time to go, it was time to go!

But, he was patient with Janice when she went shopping.  Janice would go into a store and O.V .would sit in the food court and very soon, he would start a conversation and hand them one of his cards.  On the back of the card are written "Ten things I have learned in 99 years." (or 100 according to O.V.):

1.    love is the supreme virtue

2.    family is of great importance

3.    God and His will are vital for personal fulfillment

4.    things are no guarantee of happiness

5.    honesty really is the best policy

6.    God keeps His promises

7.    Life is in God's hands

8.    Learning is a life long process (I'm still learning)

9.    God's divine providence is beyond comprehension

10. Ones only hope of eternal security is God's grace through Jesus

Hebrews 12

Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 [a]fixing our eyes on Jesus, the [b]author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

O.V. ran for many years, in 1978 he ran 1100 miles. At some point, he transitioned from running to walking. On average, he walked about 1100 miles a year.  Now using O.V. math, 1100x100 means he walked 110,000 miles.  The circumference of the earth is 24000 miles.  He walked around the earth 4.5 times. 

He was not a fast mover, but he was a mover.  In a race, no one remembers how you start but all look at how you finish.  Sometimes, people don't finish, they quit, they give up, they look up and the hills that surround them are overwhelming; their eyes no longer look up to the hills and ask where their help comes from, their eyes are downcast.  Their heart, desire, perseverance stops. 

Not O.V.  He ran with endurance, he walked with purpose, he served with compassion, he preached fervently, he loved deeply. 

O.V. kept a journal. He chronicled his life experiences; from the mundane to the thrilling. 

His last entry was Jul 27 and all it said was Bible and Prayer.  O.V.s love story is surrounded and kept true by scripture and communion with God.  His story is one of love for Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.

O.V.'s love story of the soul does not end on Feb 10th.  The conclusion is not with his last breath.  Indeed, loved ones, Rev. O. V. Dodson's love story begins with these words:

"His master replied, 'Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!'

The Injury

In the blink of an eye. No. In an instant, in the moment it takes you to go from vertical to horizontal with a 500 pound motorcycle crushing your foot and tearing the most vital ligament in your metatarsals, it happened.  I lay there with the bike on top of me.  That's what I remember.  I lifted the bike off of me.  Parked it back in the garage and went to the ER.  I had to wait a week for the swelling to subside before I saw the orthopedist.  He confirmed the worst news: I had several cracked bones and the lis-franc ligament was torn.  That ligament basically holds the foot together.  Not supports some of it or helps out the others.  This is the main one. He stated that my foot will never be the same, running will be difficult for me and in essence my marathon days are over.

I remember that moment I decided to run my first marathon.  I was having dinner with a friend who was signed up for the Marine Corps Marathon.  He had injured his ankle and was unable to run.  He transferred his race entry to me (I'm not a bandit!).  

The doctor left.  Thoughts swirling, feelings going every which way. Numb. Surgery was scheduled for the next day.  I had been told to prepare for possible surgery that day (no food or coffee after midnight).  Now I was told to prepare for surgery for the next day (no food or coffee after midnight).  Ugh.

Miles 18-22 were the toughest.  Haynes Point. Lonely.  Windy. Cold.  Had to pee.  Then coming around the corner, I saw the crowd.  Cheering and yelling and spurring me on.  Tears formed.  Strength renewed.  Just a few more miles to go.  

Surgery was uneventful, at least for the surgical team. I now had three screws in my foot.  It took quite awhile for the anesthetic to wear off.  The ride home was uneventful, at least for me!  Since then, I have sat in my recliner with my foot in the air.  I usually go outside and sit in the Sun for a bit.  Make some phone calls, email (work and personal, check Facebook). Sitting here is the toughest.  I want to start rehab.  I want the physical therapist to yell at me.  I want to move my foot and make it hurt.  I want to run.

Just a half mile to go.  Uphill to the Iwo Jima Monument.  A burst of speed and I ran across the finish line.  A Marine placed a finishers medal around my neck.  My son was there to congratulate me (and help me back to the hotel and car.)  He told me he was proud of me.  That is what I remember.  

I will recover from this injury.  It is not a matter of IF I will, I know I will.  That friends, is not a matter of over-confidence, that is the truth.  As one friend put it "You've beaten the odds before and you will beat them again." and another friend, "Suck it up Buttercup."  Indeed I will.  But I am not fooling myself.  The road to recovery will be tough, it will be painful and I may not be the same runner as I was once was (not that I was fast by any means) but I also know that I will not travel this road alone.  I have you.  (a special shout-out to my wife: she has been so wonderful in taking care of me, has not complained, has helped me every hop of the way--she is a blessing!).  You will encourage me to push and you will encourage me to slow down.

You will encourage me to...Keep Running!
God's Peace,
Steve

So There I Was...Climbing Saddle Mountain

So there I was climbing Saddle Mountain, leading a tour of school kids from the School for the Blind and Deaf up the mountain when all of a sudden a bear jumps out of the woods.  I've read that when encountering a bear, one does not need to outrun the bear, only those one is with.  Man, those little kids were fast!

As the truth goes, the day was clear, the temperature was near perfect and I was running up the mountain.  Running!  Saddle Mountain is about a 4 mile hike up and back.  I was about an 1/8 of a mile from the top, the summit, the peak, the goal, when I encountered a fallen tree across the trail.  As I hit my head on the tree, I glanced a branch and sliced open my head.  I fell to the ground and blood began pouring out.  Not a trickle, not a little blood but a very steady stream.  As the warm liquid violently left my body, I thought for a moment this might be it.  If I cant get the bleeding to slow or stop, I know what happens.  Rescue would be at least 30 minutes away (at the fastest) and that might not be soon enough.  I sat there watching my life pour out of my body. Scary! I yelled for my hiking buddy (a lesson here is never hike alone!)  who came running to me.  We were able to stop the bleeding and with my partners help made it down the mountain and to the emergency room. I received 15 staples and will have a very cool scar for the rest of my life.

How did this happen?  Simple.  I ran with my head head down and did not see the obstacle.  The military has a term called situational awareness or SA for short; basically keeping focus.  I lost my SA for just a brief moment and paid the price.  I failed to look ahead and was quite surprised when I sat on the ground watching my blood stream out of my head.  Have you lost your SA?  Have you been going through life with your head down?  I'd encourage you to look up.  There might be a tree with your name on it, waiting to slice you open, knock you down.  And most importantly, you are not alone.  "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death (deepest darkness) I will fear no evil for You (God) are with me."  You are never alone.

I'll make a full recovery but I will always have a scar to remind me of that day when I was on the ground watching the very essence of my life leave me.  My scar will remind me to keep my head up, look ahead and most importantly...

Keep Running!
Steve

Heat, Hills and Hurt: Reflections on the St. Louis Marathon and Life

The St. Louis Marathon was my sixth and arguable my most difficult race.  Not my slowest or fastest but the most hot, hilly and hurtful.  Running is not new to me.  Many miles have been logged, I have more shoes than my wife, I know the terminology, I  subscribe to two running magazines and have a slew of others in my favorites web site list.  I was hoping for a PR (personal record to those in the know).  My training was intense and purposeful, my diet was pretty good;  I still need some tweaking in that area.  My mental approach to the race was, I felt, very good: relaxed, strategic-steady pace, cut the tangents, run my race.

The temperature at the start of the race was 70 degrees.  I had trained in temps around 40-50.  The difference of 20-30 degrees was of great concern to me. I realized, however,  there are some elements I can control, my training, diet, etc..., but there are some I cannot control: the weather and the course.  Starting out it was hot and ending it was hot.  A strong wind came up at several times and while I am usually not a fan of a headwind, I was thankful this time.  The cooling effect was much appreciated.

I had downloaded a map of the course and studied it in detail.  I could tell you we would turn left, then right, right, left and right with a slight incline at mile 5 and so on.  There were more turns at the beginning of the course.  I didn't realize the length of the hills on the second half of the course.  I saw the elevation chart but the hills didn't look all that challenging.  And in retrospect they weren't all that daunting.  I've ran hills, trained on hills, ran hill repeats.  I was ready for them, or so I thought.  Typically, a runner bemoans an uphill and is thankful for a downhill.  Not in my case for this past race.  I was happy for the uphill and cringing on the downhills.  Sometimes the things that we do not enjoy are actually better for us than the easier circumstances we seek.

My split time at the half marathon point was 1:59:12.  My PR for a half is 1:58:00.  I was in great shape at the halfway point: on target for a marathon PR of less than 4 hours, my pace was consistent, breathing and muscles were not being pushed hard at all.  Then mile 15 happened.  In one moment, my hopes of a faster time were dashed.  In one moment my body cried out to me.  In one moment I had to consider quitting the race.  And that my friends is something I am loathe to do!  I had trained hard, I had traveled halfway across the country, I had studied nutrition and strategy, my mental state was right where I wanted it to be.  Quitting a race for me is not an option, but I had to consider it.  At mile 15, my IT band, or so I think (I'm going to a doctor later this week) snapped.  The pain was sharp and intense.  Every time my left leg impacted the ground, a pain rushed up and down my leg.  My IT band had given me troubles over the past month and a half and I thought I had taken proper care of it.  Apparently not.  I had joked with friends that all I needed was for the leg to make it to mile 20 and I could hop from there.  I didn't realize the event would happen with 11.2 miles to go (yes, that .2 is important).  I slowed my pace from an 8:45 minute mile to an 11:30 and essentially ran up the hills and walked down them. I stopped and stood at one point.  When I started up, I cried out in pain and in tears.  This was mile 20.  Mile 21 found a medic on a bike following me for about a half mile.  I quit crying.  I came around a corner and a volunteer told me you can see the finish line.  There it was.  Glorious. Completion. Finish line!  I ran faster, ran harder, ran with purpose.  I crossed the line in pain, but I crossed. I could barely move, the pain was intense. When they placed the medal around my neck, I almost fell over.  I made my way to the rest tent and sat down, drank some water and expressed thanks that I was done.

Our lives can be hot.  We may find ourselves in circumstances in which we are not prepared for, but just wait, the Father of all Good things, will send a breeze to cool you.  The wind may appear at first, to be a curse, but in it He provides a blessing.

Our lives can be hilly.  We may have studied the map but nothing compares to running the course.  And, in the end, the up-hills may provide more comfort and benefit than the down-hills.

Our lives can be hurtful. Injuries are often an indication of something deeper.  I can google and self diagnose all day long, but in the end, I need a doctor to examine my leg and maybe send me to a specialist for further evaluation.  If you're hurt, ask what else is going on?  What is it that is causing the Hurt?  Oh, and don't google it, seek the counsel of an expert.

In the end, the race was run and I received the medal.  This marathon wasn't the prettiest but it was completed and sometimes, in the face of heat, hills and hurt, that is the true accomplishment.
Keep Running!