"Double Booked" OR "The Plate-Spinner"

I used to hate winter. I self-diagnosed myself with Seasonal Affective Disorder a long time ago. And yes, it's occurred to me that the winter depresses me simply because I believe winter should depress me. But I think it's simply the cold, the dark mornings, the dark evenings, and the gray sky that doesn't budge for three months.

But, as I've gotten older (and gotten in better shape), I find myself liking winter more and more. Winter, I've found, has some of the best running weather of the year.  

Yes, running in the morning is out because of the extreme cold (or at least the perceived extreme cold), but I can run pretty much any other time of the day. I'm never forced to stay inside because of rain. In fact, when it starts snowing, that's when I want to lace up my shoes and get out the door.

But, although I've grown to somewhat like winter in the last few years, I'm never sad to see it go.

The weather for the last week has been downright phenomenal. Sunny. Mild. The sound of birdsongs in the air again. It feels like spring is right around the corner. And that means, for me...

RACE SEASON.

This spring's race season looked to be the same as almost every year past. The Shamrock Shuffle 3K in downtown Lexington. Run The Bluegrass Half Marathon at Keeneland. Derby Festival Mini-Marathon in Louisville. And, of course, The Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati, Ohio. My standard spring races, and all my favorites.

It's also Lent, which is one of my favorite times of the year.

For those of you who don't know, Lent is the forty days (not including Sundays) leading up to Easter. It begins on Ash Wednesday and, of course, ends on Easter. It's celebrated in remembrance of the forty days before Jesus' crucifixion, when he returned to Jerusalem one last time to preach and teach, even though he knew it would lead to his death.

Growing up, I was never a big observer of Lent (actually, I was never a big observer of anything in church). Even when I got older and started growing in my relationship with Christ, Lent still seemed like something only for Catholics. But a few years ago I went to my first Ash Wednesday service, and it really struck me just how significant Lent should be to a Christian's life.

It's tradition to give up something during Lent. Not necessarily something bad, but something you could do without for forty days (not counting Sundays) in order to grow closer to God.

Hillary and I decided to give up social media during Lent. In addition, we also decided to take on a book study. We began reading Breathe, by Priscilla Shrirer. The book is about what it means to live a life with God's Sabbath in mind. Not necessarily living for Sundays; simply living life with a margin of rest around it. It's about knowing what things steal our contentment, our peace,  and our rest and keep us from living life.

Ironically, we've had a hard time keeping up with it.

It seems like the more we try to eliminate things from our lives to make room for time with God, the more we encounter things that simply have to be done. And yes, it feels like a trick of the Devil, trying to suck away our time with our Creator, but I'll be darned if it's not effective. It's not like I can just decide not to grade tests, or create lesson plans, or do all the other little non-classroom things I have to do for my teaching job. And Hillary can't simply stop seeing patients, or stop completing long, irksome charts for those patients. Couple that with time with the kids, time to maintain our own relationship, cooking dinner every night, and various other commitments, it feels like every minute of our days are spent simply preparing for the next day. Just so we can wake up the next morning and do the whole cycle over again.

I want to let some things go. But how?

Yesterday, I was writing all my spring races on a Runner's World calendar my brother, Aaron, and his wife got me for Christmas. I was thrilled to find that two of the races I had signed up for were actually pre-written on the calendar!

But I was less thrilled to see them on the same weekend.

The Flying Pig Marathon in Cincinnati and the Derby Festival Half in Louisville. It didn't even occur to me to check, because the two have NEVER been on the same weekend in the past. The Derby Fest is always the weekend before the Kentucky Derby (thus, the last weekend in April). And the Flying Pig is always the first weekend in May. Consecutive weeks.

Not this year. This year, May 1st is on a Sunday. The stars have aligned in such a way that must choose between two of my favorite races. I'm double-booked.

Neither of these races are bad. In fact, they're both great races, and the proceeds for each go to great causes. But I simply can't do them both. I'm going to have to make a choice.

It seems that God's trying to teach me a lesson. It's no coincidence that this perfectly mirrors my current dilemma about making quiet time for Him.

Like one of the races, something is going to have to go. Maybe I have to change the way I'm thinking about my lesson planning. Maybe I have to look for other ways I waste time (although, objectively, I can't see what else I could cut and still maintain sanity). Maybe He'll simply give me some grand revelation about the whole thing, I'll find the answer I'm looking for, and it'll be so simple that I won't believe I didn't realize it in the first place.

I personally hope He goes for the grand revelation. When it comes to discernment, I'm pretty dense.

Until that happens, I'll keep spinning the plates.

A Common Thread - OR - How Running Saved My Life

After a hiatus of not blogging about running on my running-themed blog, I'm finally back at it today. Give me a break; it's been a hectic summer!

Earlier this month, I was contacted by someone from Fanatics.com. If you've never checked them out, they're pretty much the unparalleled word in sports gear. A representative from the site mentioned that they'd heard of my blog, and wanted to know if my life (or the life of my family) had been significantly impacted by sports.

Oh, has it.

If you're a faithful follower of this blog, then you know that Hillary Smith and I were married two weeks ago.

Just by sheer volume of pictures, it may be the most documented wedding in history. 

What you may not be aware of is the role that running played in our lives individually and as a couple, and how we overcome great personal struggles by lacing up our shoes and hitting the road. 

I was married for the first time in 2010. My now ex-wife moved out of our house at the end of May, 2012. The months that followed were, without a doubt, the darkest of my life. You might remember a post from earlier this month in which I recapped that season, describing the pattern of self-loathing, depression, and destructive habits I picked up during that time.

I wasn't constantly looking for answers at the bottom of a bottle, though. I was still running. 

I had been a runner for years before that fateful time, so I was already pretty serious about the sport. But when my wife moved out, running became something more than an excuse to get out of the house and a reason to eat far more calories than I needed. Running became a form of therapy for me, the only way I could express the confusion and frustration and anger in a way that was healthy. Later in 2012, I ran my first marathon and completed my first Tough Mudder, two things I never thought I'd be able to do. 

I had just emerged from something called 'The Arctic Enema', if the blue lips didn't tip it off. 

Rock and Roll Las Vegas Marathon. I look way more enthusiastic in this picture. 

Running, probably literally, saved my life. 

Fast forward almost a year. An amazing girl that I had barely known in high school was going through her own personal version of hell. She, like me, was recently divorced, but after a decade of marriage instead of less than three years. 

I'm still not sure why I messaged her that day in April of 2013. But I'm lucky I did. She and I, it turned out, each needed a listening ear for the struggles our lives had thrown at us. And, coincidently, she was preparing for a 5K race the very next day. 

Hillary had barely run before her divorce. But she, like me, had chosen to pick up the sport as a way to wear away the edges of rage and sorrow that her life had recently gained. At the very least, the activity made us feel good about ourselves; something neither of us had felt in a long time. 

We spent more time together. We started dating. And our best, most involved dates were races we ran together. 

Run the Bluegrass Half Marathon: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Shamrock Shuffle 3K: Lexington, KY, March 2014 

Kentucky Derby Festival Mini-Marathon: Louisville, KY, April 2014 

When I decided to ask her to marry me, it only seemed fitting to ask her in our favorite running shop. I made sure it was okay with the people at John's Run/Walk Shop, and they were thrilled at the idea. One of their awesome employees was even nice enough to video it for it. It can be seen on their Facebook Page. 

We were finally married two weeks ago. The post before this one is dedicated to it, so check it out if you'd like.

Sometimes when I think about my life before the divorce, I feel as if I'm looking at a different person. He had no idea just how wrecked his life could get until it happened before his eyes. However, if I share anything with that past version of myself, it's my love of running. For a while, that thread was more like a lifeline; and, luckily, I met someone else who was on that lifeline, too. Now, it's a common thread that unites us and keeps us motivated, strong, and, most importantly, invested in each other's lives.

Oh, and I've already turned her into a Denver Broncos fan. As if I could possibly love her any more!

I'll have her in one of these this season. Just you wait.