rejoice. we conquer.

A friend brought it to my attention the other day that I never wrote a post-race entry, so here it is. Because there are a lot of people I need to thank...

We finished the race, which was really all we could ask for on a ninety-degree day in Chicago, especially since I forgot my bib number at home when we left for the race. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for racing downtown and navigating the mobs of runners to find me by the starting line. You saved the day (as always).

The first half of the race went really well. 14 miles. Solid. 10-minute mile pace. Jon and I counted all of our friends and family spotted on the sidelines. Over 30! Thanks so much to everyone who came out. It was so much easier to run when we heard and saw you on the sidelines.

Then, about mile 16, things went a bit awry. It got hot, and whereas the first third of the race course wound through the northside neighborhoods (where streets are shaded by buildings and even a few trees), the west and south sides were brutal. No thanks to the marathon for running out of bananas at the refueling stations. I really think there is something unfair about allowing all the good runners to eat them up just before the rest of us get there.

But I have to be honest, it was Team World Vision--the runners and fans--that got us through. As he "ran" through the industrial district on the southwest side (miles 18 and 19), seeing fans in Team World Vision tshirts, cheering for us as loud as they could kept us going. We also ran into a friend of mine (also running for TWV), which was really an immeasurable lift. So thanks to Team World Vision for bringing people together, giving them something to connect through.

And finally, thanks to all of you. For following along, for making donations, for coming out to the race, for prayer.

What an awesome experience. I think everyone should try it (once).

in sickness and in health.

So, a training update:

Things have been a bit rocky for Jon and me these past few weeks mainly due to persistent health issues. 

A few weeks ago, I visited my doctor and, after a few tests, he determined that I had a developed a stomach ulcer over the course of the summer. At the time, the only real symptom was some pretty bad stomach pain (which was especially bad with the consumption of alcohol, caffeine, or avocados...go figure...). So they gave me some medication, and I made an effort to de-stress my life a bit. Running has been decent, but it's been very difficult to figure out what I can and cannot eat before/during my runs, meaning that I can't eat anything before I run (which is making the 12+ milers pretty tough).

3 weeks ago, Jon started experiencing sharp pain in his foot. My diagnosis: tendinitis (probably due to his dedication to training....unlike, well, me....). So he took a week off to rest and (hopefully) recover. The next week, he ran a mile, pain-free, but the following day, the pain was back. And it hasn't really left since. That was two weeks ago.

Anyways, things are pretty frustrating right now. With the race only 5 weeks away, we wanted to be feeling strong, finishing our runs with ease (or at least, minimal walking). But right now, that's just not the case. 

So anyways, please, if you think of it, pray for good health and for mental strength to persevere. We appreciate your support so much and need it very much right now.

when you get a little bored at work...

...have a team world vision photo shoot.

me.

kyle (temp slash model).

boss lauren.

zach-attack.

if this doesn't make you want to join team world vision, i don't know what will.

two fists in the air.

You can expect a similar pose at the finish line. I don't care.

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/2008/01/26/27-marathons/

the first of our obligations.

So I've been reading Les Miserables pretty much all summer (only 380 pages left!), and I think that it's probably the best book I've ever read. Ever. 

This afternoon, I decided to enjoy the beautiful weather sitting on the porch reading (meaning NOT running...also meaning I will be up at 6 a.m. tomorrow morning to do the 15 miles I was supposed to do today...). But I came across this passage as I read, and it felt appropriate:

"Let us not weary of repeating it, to think first of all the outcast and sorrowful multitudes, to solace them to give them air, to enlighten them, to love them, to enlarge their horizon magnificently, to lavish upon them eudcation in all its forms, to offer them the example of labour, never the example of idleness, to diminish the weight of the individual burden by intensifying the idea of the universal object, to limit poverty without limiting wealth, to create vast fields of public and popular activity, to have, like Briareus, a hundred hands to stretch out on all sides to the exhausted and the feeble, to employ the collective power in the great duty of opening workshops for all arms, schools for all aptitudes and laboratories for all intelligences, to increase wages, to diminish suffering, to balance the ought and the have, that is to say, to proportion enjoyment to effort and gratification to need, in one word, to evolve from the social structure, for the benefit of those who suffer and those who are ignorant, more light and more comfort; this is, let sympathetic souls forget it not, the first of fraternal obligations."

it takes so long.

Last Sunday, Jon and I ran 13 miles. 13 miles...Half of a marathon.

You can read that in two ways: (1) 13 miles is pretty good since, at the beginning of the summer, we could run about 3! or (2) 13 miles is only HALF of what we're training to run.

But that's all beside the point because last weekend it wasn't the distance of the run that made an impression on me, but the amount of time that it took. It was really a great run...the weather was absolutely perfect, my legs felt great, I had caffeinated Jelly Beans to keep me going...Jon and I ran at a 10-minute-mile pace, which is pretty good I think. Still, in total, the run took about 2:15 hours. That's a long time to just run.

And it got me thinking because we're only half way through training and the runs are only going to get longer....But it got me thinking about what I'm doing in that time besides just running. Writing? Thinking? Observing? Praying?

For the past three days, I've been a little bit sick (no big deal really...sore throat, some stomach aches, headache here and there, general fatigue). But I think the sickness is my body's way of telling me slow down. With a 40-hour work week (and additional evening work events), studying for the GRE, frequent weekend trips up to Michigan, and starting to fill out applications for law school and spring internships (not to mention marathon training), I have forgotten to rest, to breathe, to take a minute to slow down and look at life instead of rushing through it.

So I'm thankful for running in kind of a peculiar way. For forcing me to take 2 hours to write, to think, to observe, and to pray. For making me finally slow down.

hello, wall.

I guess it's to be expected 8 weeks into the training season (1 week from halfway)...

Jon and I ran our second 10-miler this weekend. The longest distance I've run in training (I missed the 12-miler due to a bone bruise in my foot a few weeks ago). The first 10-miler went pretty well. The weather was beautiful, I remembered to drink water, my pace was consistent, the sermon I listened to on my pod was inspiring...yes, the first one was good.

Not so the case with the second.

I'm not sure exactly why. Time out because of an injury...lack of sleep...serious dehydration...96 degree weather. Maybe all those things. Maybe none. Maybe it was just an emotional wall. Either way, this weekend's long run was probably the worst-feeling run of my entire life.

And for the first time really in this whole training season, I felt very discouraged. The thought of more miles after those ten (probably 4 of which were essentially walked) was terrifyingly daunting. A marathon...impossible.

I have this quote (see picture) tacked to the bulletin board on my desk above my training schedule, and it struck me as particularly relevant today as I logged Sunday's disappointing pace. It's important for me to remember that this whole training thing may not be comfortable or enjoyable all the time. It's not always going to feel good. The weather won't always be sunny. My body won't always be healthy. My heart and mind won't always be inspired.

But oh, what a feast.

this is why...

i ate a caterpillar.

"I will give you $10 to eat this," my uncle said, smirking.

I looked at the caterpillar, charred but still obviously a bug. Lots of legs. There is no way, I thought. Absolutely no way.

It was a cool night in Kitwe, a city in northern Zambia, where we had been staying for a few days in the middle of our trip, and I was sitting at the end of a long table, staring at the expectant faces of my traveling companions. My uncle, the leader of the group, sat beside me grinning and pushing the plate closer to me.

I hestitated, equivocated, looked from him to the bug to the floor. Everyone was watching.

"Ok...fine...how 'bout this," he said. "If you eat it, I will give $10 to the family of your choice tomorrow at the village."

I faltered, still looking at the ground. $10 would go a long ways here. For a family with kids that was nearly a week of food.

"How 'bout this," I heard. My friend Jim, a businessman and World Vision donor. "I'll double what everyone else agrees to contribute." Outwardly, emotionless. Inwardly writhing.

$40.

I picked up the seared black bug, shuddering as my fingers defined each body segment and stubby leg. I breathed in deeply through my nose. Maybe if I ate it without having to inhale, I wouldn't taste it.

I closed my eyes (probably squealed a little) and ate it.


We do strange things when we believe in a cause. Strange things like eat bugs and run marathons.

a "runner's" playlist.

Top Five:

1. Anxiety (Black Eyed Peas)--I don't fear my enemies, I don't fear bullets from uzzies...

2. Lose Yourself (Eminem)--Here I go, it's my shot. Feet fail me not. This may be the only opportunity that I got...

3. Dirt Off Your Shoulder (Jay-Z)--the perfect beat (if you force yourself to match your footfalls to the bass)

4. Stronger (Kanye West)--That which doesn't kill me...

5. Heart of a Champion (Nelly)--The background is the old NBA theme!!

Honorable mention:

Points of Authority (Linkin Park)--You can't run a race. The pace is too fast. You just won't last...just a little negative motivation...

The effectiveness of all this is very suspect, though...I had what was probably my best run of the season this weekend, and I listened to Damien Rice (which is what I listen to while I'm studying or when I want to fall asleep...).

the Run.

It’s amazing to me how clear already I can see the correlation between life and this training-for-a-marathon thing. How the thoughts and emotions I carry within me through the day are manifested physically in the way I tense my shoulders, in my labored breathing, in the way my legs carry me on the Run.

Some days the Run is an ethereal (albeit typically evanescent) sort of elation…a combination of freedom and movement, endorphins and adrenaline, physical pain and the transcendence of physicality. Each stride loosens and lengthens the taught fibers of my muscles. And on these days, the Run is a breath. A pause. A moment to reflect, to see, to listen to the deep steadiness of my breathing or the rhythmic beat of my footsteps—or beyond myself, to the prickle of tree branches and the early notes of songbirds, or, even beyond that, to the quiet stillness of the early morning air still cool with dew. The divide between the body and the silence is vast, but when it is breeched…asamdwoe…peace.

Other days, there is no peace in the Run. My breathing is shallow and hoarse. My footfalls slow and heavy. Eyes closed, I see only darkness, I hear only the sounds of my body in rebellion against, or disregard for, the silence. My muscles pull and stretch without coming unknotted. My side and stomach tighten as I struggle to drive my knees forward one more step. I feel tired. I feel sick. I feel like giving up.

In training, as in life, I find myself in constant need for a reminder that this truly is not a sprint, that the quality of the Run today is not measured by my pace or by the way my body feels. No, it is solely and explicitly about the Run...about being out there on the path, putting one foot in front of the last, taking each breath slowly and deeply. It’s about seeing the beauty of the race ahead and about hearing the silence.

And it's about doing it again tomorrow.

the wrong foot.

Well, I'm just back to Chicago from the Hunger Justice Leaders Conference in Washington, D.C., with Bread for the World, and I feel both exhausted and rejuvenated (if that's possible).

The exhausted part comes primarily from several days of a very upset stomach. In fact, I haven't really eaten anything at all since Monday afternoon (I had half a granola bar on Tuesday. That's it.). Compounding that...it was just a generally packed week. The conference was scheduled from 8 a.m. to 10 p.m. every day, in addition to time spent trying to get to know as many of the other young people there. So yes, exhausted.

So needless to say, my training is not going very well, which makes me a little nervous for the 7-miler on Saturday.

But at the same time, I feel rejuvenated from a week full of learning about issues related to world hunger and poverty, meeting other people who are part of the fight against these problems, and celebrating the impact that we, even as individuals, can have.

I feel encouraged in my efforts and convicted in my running.

Lunch today will be my first meal in 3 days, and tonight's run will be the first in so many as well. I'm looking forward to both.

has-been or will-be?

I used to be an athlete.

A college athlete even. But that seems like ages ago. In fact, I would say that my athletic career probably peeked in my senior year of high school.

I still play a little bit of basketball at the park when I can if I'm not too tired or if I don't feel like doing anything else...but that's about it.

And I certainly never run. Never. Actually, last year I was the only one of my roommates who didn't have a gym membership (slash: didn't wake up at 6 freaking o'clock in the morning to run miles and miles and miles...).

So you can imagine people's response when I tell them that I've decided to run the Chicago Marathon this year. Even my parents didn't believe me (each of the four times I assured them I was being serious).

But I am.