"Footprints" **OR** "Just One More Step"

When I first started this blog, around two or three years ago, it was intended as a running blog. I looked all over the internet for review of energy products for runner (gels, chews, blocks, etc.), and, finding so such thing, decided to start my own. And for the first few months, that's what the blog was about.

Then came my divorce, and the posts stopped. I had... other things on my mind.

Since my remarriage to a wonderful woman and gaining two amazing stepdaughters, the posts have taken a much more personal turn. Heck, when so much starts going right after it went wrong for so long, how could I NOT write about it?

Running was always a therapy exercise for me. So, these days, when I run, my mind drifts back to where I am now, and what I had to go through to get here. Consequently, so do my posts about running.

And, in case you don't live in the Bluegrass State of Kentucky, there is currently a lot of snow on the ground. Like, a lot. A lot, a lot. Eleven inches of snow in eight hours.

My wife snuck a picture as I was shoveling the driveway. You never appreciate the varying topography of your driveway until you have to shovel almost a foot of snow off it. 

School's been cancelled for two days in a row. Hillary and I have been stuck inside with our four- and five-year old daughters. And, even with as much as we love each other, all of us were starting to get cabin fever. 

Hillary's parents took the girls for a few hours this afternoon. 

Hillary went to get a diet coke. 

And I went for a run. 

I've got to hand it to Woodford County: the roads of our subdivision looked amazing this afternoon. The road crews must have been scraping for hours, because not only were the roads clear, but the sun had even dried up most of the remaining slush. So, for the isolated roads of the sub, the running was smooth. 

Sidewalks, however, hadn't been shoveled at all. On the contrary: all the snow pushed off the road had to go somewhere, making drifts on sidewalks upwards of three feet high. 

So I hit the local bike path, and broke out these bad boys: ice grippers that fit over the bottoms of my running shoes. 

I didn't take into account that they'd be less effective when the snow is past my calves. Still, better than nothing. 

There are a few things about running through deep snow that I didn't consider before lacing up. 

 - The energy needed to lift my legs high out of the snow drifts. 

 - The energy needed to fight the drag from snow, even when only the tips of my toes dragged through it. 

 - The energy needed to compensate every time my feet landed and slipped at an angle other than 'straight forward'. 

- Basically a whole lot of energy factors that wore me down, quickly. 

Immediately, I noticed that I wasn't the only one crazy enough to go for a run today. There was one set of footprints in the deep snow, not very old. I tried my best to stay in them: less snow to haul with my shoes meant more energy I could use for running. 

Despite my best efforts to stay in the established footprints, the run was slow and difficult. And then I came to something I didn't expect. 

The footprints stopped. 

Though there hadn't been anything to indicate such, I had assumed that I could follow these footprints as far as I wanted to go. I trusted that someone else had been ahead of me, had laid a path I could follow. There was something strangely daunting about being the one to blaze on past those footprints, and I'm not talking just the tole it was going to take on my already tired (and cold) legs. 

But I wasn't done with my run. So I pressed on. 

It was difficult. For a while, I wanted to stop and rest. But that wasn't really an option; if I stopped, then I was simply standing in foot-deep snow, getting colder by the second. If I wanted to stay warm, and watched to reach the end, I had to keep moving, no matter how slowly. 

Eventually I'd had enough, and I came to a cross-road that had been plowed by the persistent Woodford County road crew. I stopped to catch my breath, and when I turned around, the only footprints I saw were my own. 

They took a while to make. They left me tired and sore, and the thought of having to go through them again to get home was intimidating. But they were mine, and someone else could walk in them if they came this way, just like the first set I had used. 

There are a lot of metaphors in this entry for my trials of the last two/three years.  

I eventually made it back to the paved, easy roads of my subdivision. And it, like many subdivisions, is full of large plots of land simply waiting for some enterprising developer to snatch up and fill with affordable luxury homes. 

Someone else got to a particularly large, undeveloped plot today, though, and left a message for all to see. 

I don't know who turned this field into a giant Etch-a-Sketch, but I was glad they did. Because, even though I looked back and saw only one set of footprints, I knew He was still with me the entire way. Sometimes, God doesn't carry you; instead, he simply whispers, quietly, "Just one more step." 

Why I Hate Winter: A Thoughtful Tirade

Why I Hate Winter: A Thoughtful Tirade 

Winter is here, yet again, in case the Christmas lights and Santas on street corners hadn't alerted you. Of course, I've been seeing signs of Christmas since early October, so that's not as telling as it used to be. 

The time right after the holidays always puts me in a certain mood. While I'm normally a very introspective person, looking at a brand new year always makes me examine the Graham that I was in years past. I dredge up old memories, old hurts, old joys, and wallow in a introspective pile for a time. It was during such a wallow when I figured out the real reason I hate winter. 

Let's get one thing clear: I HATE being cold. I would rather be sunburned and drenched in sweat than even mildly chilly. This is usually the part of the discussion where a winter-lover brings up the old defense, 'You can always put more layers on if you're cold, but there are only so many layers you can take off'. This is, of course, a total load. For me, there is a point of being cold when the chill creeps down into my bones. Putting layers on doesn't help; the cold is inside me. Piling more things on top will not get rid of it. 

Though I do hate the cold, it's merely the secondary reason I hate winter. 

Kentucky has very unique weather patters. We haven't had a white Christmas is nearly ten years, but last year my school was cancelled a whopping fifteen days for snow. This doesn't seem like a big deal, but living in it for my whole life has made me resent the entire season. 

Because, you see, winter is a lair. 

Last summer I was married to an amazing woman, gaining two stepdaughters along with her. A time of uncertainty and fear, unlike any I had ever known, suddenly ended. Now, it feels like my life has actually started; everything up to this seems like practice, a scrimmage. Life has begun. 

Today is the first day of a new year. To me, this feels like Year One. I picture what the girls will look like in ten years. I try to figure out who they'll be. I imagine what Hillary and I will have to replace on the house in a few years. I wonder where we'll go on vacation. I'm planning new running routes from the house we live in, where we've planted roots, deep and strong. 

Winter had given me a beautiful day outside, with sunshine and a blue, cloudless sky. It's set my mind alight with possibilities for this year, next year, ten years, twenty years from now. The beginning of January is always like this in Kentucky. 

But winter, like a spoiled child, never knows what it wants. Tomorrow, the temperature might struggle to crest the 30's (for you Celsius folks, that right around zero). Then the sky will turn gray for more than a month. Maybe it will precipitate. Maybe it won't. Maybe it'll be snow. Maybe, sleet. Maybe, freezing rain. Or maybe it'll taunt me with an afternoon in the 60's, only to pull it from beneath me like Lucy with Charlie Brown's football. 

I hate winter for the same reason I hate reality TV and politicians. Winter is disingenuous. It smiles at your face and laughs behind your back. It hands you a cup of coffee, but spits in the cup. Put simply, it is a liar and a cheat. 

I suppose the real reason I hate winter is because it reminds me so much of that cold, uncertain time in my life. There were no visions of the future, because I didn't know I had a future. There were no long-term plans, because I couldn't see further than the end of my nose. Winter, perhaps, strikes a little too close to home. 

That time of uncertainly in my life is over, even if bleak mid-winter is just getting started. There will be cold days. There will be snowy days. There'll be days when muddy sleet makes the garage a mess and ruins the floorboards in my car.

But the winter will end, and spring will come. I'm already picturing what it'll be like. 

Thursday, January 16th, 2014: "Freezing My Butt Off" *or* "The Biggest Idiot Ever."

Okay, so I promise I actually have updated since October. I *tried* to post about my most recent Tough Mudder run, but I accidentally was logged into my Blogger account for my short story blog, Cut and Dry. So my most recent running post is there, as I am too tired at the moment to move it onto this blog. 

Not only that, why would I move an older post when I am now creating a fresh, NEW post!  

This concludes the "Biggest Idiot Ever" portion of the post. 

As for the "Freezing My Butt Off" portion: anyone living pretty much anywhere east of Texas and north of the Florida panhandle know what I'm talking about. America has been downright cold as of late, and I have only gotten the opportunity to run outside twice in the last month.  

And not only that, I'm starting to see the result of all the time I took off of running in the fall while I was perpetually ill. Like, around my waist line.  

So I've tackled my old nemesis, the treadmill, twice this week. In case you're unaware on my stance on treadmills, I described in an earlier post how much I'd rather be pounding some concrete that moving on a motorized belt. But, as I'm finding out, sometimes an outdoor run is just out of the question. I've not logged more than 4 miles at a time on the treadmill yet (I get bored easily, and my willpower runs out fast when I'm able to stop whenever I want without the penalty of having to run home), but I find myself getting a little better. At least I think I am, which is something. 

On a more exciting note, I recently got an email about the Kentucky Half Classic, two half marathons in Kentucky's two most beautiful cities, 21 days apart. I was actually already registered for the Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon and the Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon, so this came as a nice surprise! 

Tons of cool amenities will be given to people who finish both races! 

- A special finisher medal (in addition to the two medals for both races) 

- Half Classic food and drink booths and photo ops 

- Stickers for your race bib 

- And... most importantly... VIP TOILETS!! (This was a huge selling point for me, as I found the Kentucky Derby Festival Half in Louisville to be very short on port-o-potties). 

They're both phenomenal races, worth entering on their own merit. But the added incentive is simply too cool to pass up. 

On a serious note: I am seriously going to get back into this blog. I'm not sure how many fledgling runners out there I am actually helping, but keeping track of my running trials and errors is what keeps me on the road. When my blogging slacks off, my running slacks off, and vice versa. Even if I feel like dirt and have a crappy run, writing about it makes me want to get back out there and have a better run to make up for it. 

Not to mention that I have been blessed far beyond what I deserve, and sitting around being sedentary is no way to show my appreciation. I have a wonderful relationship with Hillary and the girls, and I've gotten to see a lot of them while work crews have been tearing out both the bathrooms in my house (it;s a long, messy story). 

Yes, the January is cold and dark, and usually my winter depression sits in about now. But I have these two bad boys to help me through. 

Sun lamp and space heater. With their powers combined... I am... a functioning human being! Oh, and the electric guitar behind them helps, too. 

Anyway, I hope this entry find you in good spirits, injury-free, ready to face the next mile.