Every runner knows there are times you just have to run through a pain. Most sore muscles work the kinks out with a little simple effort.
BUT, sometimes a runner has to admit the pain is just too bad to ignore. I developed one of THOSE pains last week.
Let me explain my unorthodox running routine so you have a feel for my pain here.
With an unscheduled work schedule I never know for sure when I’m available for a pounding on my temple to keep it fit for the King’s service. Some weeks I only get one run in. Occasionally I get two or three.
Last week I got two in, Sunday and Tuesday.
I do my best to squeeze in some basic muscle-building exercises before each run. You know the ones, pushups and situps and some unorthodox ones I invented to stay fit for the King’s service.
Last Tuesday was quite cool for a Texas summer afternoon, mid 80’s instead of the typical 100+. That meant I didn’t tote a quart of water to survive my strenuation. Yeah, I just made that word up. I’m a Webster. I can get away with those things for the King’s service.
I begin my run right outside my apartment building. I work my way via the sidewalks to a city park over a half mile away. The park holds eight baseball/softball diamonds, a playground and a field big enough for the gents from India to play a game of cricket in.
I guestimate the perimeter I run is over a mile and a half give or take a cricket’s leg. There are a few mounds I can’t see over on the north side of the park. They’re the best substitute for hills we have in Plano (it was named that because the founding fathers thought that was the Spanish term for plain).
My typical first lap consists of stopping often to pick up various and sundry pieces of trash and/or dog piles if I find a suitable plastic bag for that unorthodox trash cleanup. The mounds/hills are utilized to add to my efforts for the King’s service.
Tuesday’s first lap went at its typical unorthodox pace of stopping and starting, climbing and jogging, avoiding the cricket ball that got whacked my direction and clearing debris from the park I call mine.
On my second lap I usually pick up my running pace more and trash and/or do-do less. Well, about a quarter of the way around I stopped and picked something off the ground that didn’t look like it belonged. When I started running again my left hamstring began to give notice it wasn’t going any farther.
I tried to silence it by the typical runner’s ignorance, but it won the battle this time. It didn’t hurt when I walked so I knew I could get home without calling an ambulance and/or have the cricket guys carry me home.
After I run my second lap I have some extremely unorthodox moves I perform and hope nobody notices me. I had a feeling I could do the side-step maneuver without complaint from my hammy. I was right, maybe because it was my left hammy not the right one.
The 100 high-steps across the footbridge went surprisingly well, too.
I was concerned about the 300 back-steps at the end of my workout. Apparently running backwards doesn’t involve the hammy as much as running frontward does. I got that accomplished just fine. Thank you very much.
I managed a jog more than a run on Saturday afternoon with temps in the 90’s. My left hammy didn’t quite feel up to a full run just yet. I guess it looked like a step-and-a-half maneuver. I managed a lap and a half.
Muscle building is a strange business when you look at it closely. To build a muscle up you have to break it down first. The tearing creates new growth. The new growth makes bigger muscles for the King’s service.
[Tweet “Faith is a lot like a muscle. You have to work it to make it grow.”]
Sometimes you can choose to grow your faith by stepping out to write a book or begin a ministry God lays on your heart. Other times God brings the growth into your life unexpectedly, like when you lose a job or become ill in a big way.
I’m finding myself in one of the King’s unorthodox faith building moments right now.
On Saturday morning I did something I never wanted to do. I know it dishonored God, but I felt Him call me to do it so He can get the glory later on. I did my best to avoid it when I found my wife at a Bible college. Nothing is guaranteed in this life.
Barb and I met at the bank to have her removed from the checking account and to have a notary public witness me signing documents to complete a divorce. That hurt worse than a torn hamstring. On my brother’s 34th wedding anniversary we swept 28 years of our lives away. I’m limping with my helper gone from my life.
If I didn’t believe with my whole heart that Jesus is still in the resurrection business I don’t know what I’d do now.
When we had a moment alone at the bank I asked Barb if she felt good about this. She said she had a peace about it, but, “no, I don’t feel good about it.” That gives me renewed hope that the Holy Spirit still has a grip on her heart.
Please pray for her to realize her desire to please God should overcome her stubborn plan to be ‘happy’ alone. All my attempts at reconciliation have been met with resistance.
Maybe now that she doesn’t feel trapped a friendship will redevelop. Perhaps that friendship will blossom into full-blown love again.
I have to believe that’s how God will be glorified in this mess I find myself in.
I’ve impressed a couple of guys by how fast I run backwards. If you notice me motating in what appears to be the wrong direction don’t judge me. It’s the only way I can see to make forward progress in my life right now.
Keep smiling. Wade