An Answer to Prayer

Just about 10 months ago, when our fourth child was nearly 6 months old, I began to run. It has been a blessing to my life in every way: It has made me a more able mom, a more even-keeled wife, a better friend. And running has increased my faith. In earlier years, I loved hour-long walks, two children in the double jogger, one in a bobbing backpack. But the addition of little Sebastian made all this trickier.

Frustrated by the drain of my daily tasks and weighed down by both the baby blues and the baby weight that wouldn’t budge, I found myself on my knees. As I prayed, suddenly the thought came to me, “What husband wouldn’t want to help his wife find time to exercise?” And so, in baring my soul to God, I was then able to bare my soul to my sweetheart. He was so happy to help. We decided I should try early morning runs, three mornings a week.

I started small — my first run was actually a half-walk, half-run, the run part totaling about 10 minutes, with my dear, avid-runner friend, Marie, alongside saying, “You can do it!” and “Just one block more!” and “I’m so proud of you!”

My runs are still modest: just a 1.6 mile jog past the Spanish tile roof of the high-school and the charming old porches of the Craftsman-style houses, past our stone church, to the stoplight and back again.

But those runs do so much good. When I am alone, I pray. I ask Jesus whom to pray for, then say strings of Divine Mercy Chaplets, one for each person or intention. The words go perfectly with my slow-ish pace as my steps seem to match the beat: “For the sake of His sorrowful passion, have mercy on us on the whole world.” Usually, I finish with one decade for each of my children and one for my husband. By God’s grace, I come home better able to love them.

In this season of life, when God is asking me to use the body He’s given me to serve Him like never before, it is generous of Him to provide a way to keep it working in tip-top shape. Running gives me energy. Running keeps my heart and lungs healthy so that, God-willing, my hands, feet, arms, eyes, mind and soul can do His work.

My New Year’s Resolution

For a little end-of-the-year inspiration, I urge you to check out this post over at Runs with a Cross. Blogger Randy, who just completed the Dallas White Rock Marathon, writes of taking one of his first post-race runs in the cold and wet of a North Texas morning. And the experience is one of pure joy:

About five minutes in, I was just overwhelmed. Sure it was chilly and I was getting wet, but it was just plain awesome.

Then, at that moment...I was reminded what I am. I am a runner. I love this stuff. This is what we do. Bring it on. What else you got?

We’ve all had runs like this. Indeed, it’s why we keep running — that feeling of pure exhilaration. Yes, sometimes the thrill is in the challenge, but often, the thrill is in the lack of a challenge, in seeing all the fruits of your hard work, when suddenly hills, rain, or extra miles are no longer quite so daunting. I am a runner, and it feels great.

And while that feeling could be a temptation to pride, Randy places the credit right where it belongs:

Forget the health benefits of running. This was about pure God given pleasure. I'm thank to Him for allowing me to experience this on a day that otherwise looked to be so ordinary.

This is something I don’t do enough: thanking God for the gift of every run, indeed, the gift of every day. That will be my New Year’s Resolution: To be more grateful.

PS — My other New Year’s resolution is to take up RunnerMom’s 10 for ’10 virtual group run. Any other takers?

Give Us This Day Our Daily Mile

I've recently stumbled upon a neat website called dailymile.com, an online training log / virtual community where you can post and share your runs, times, etc. in a facebook/twitteresque social-networking capacity. (Anyone dying to know what I've been up to can see my profile here.) One of the site's more handy features is its "groups" function, in which likeminded members can have discussions, share motivations, etc.

And so, in my never-ending quest to create resources for Catholic runners, I have launched the Running Catholic group on dailymile.com! Sadly, I am the lone member at the moment (although I have sent Tim an invitation). I encourage all readers to join. This could be a great way to generate some community, a place to share prayer intentions and perhaps even to evangelize. So come one, come all!

"Where two or three are gathered together in my name,
there am I in the midst of them."

Matt. 18:20

Running with Scapulars

The title of this post is shamelessly ripped off from Matthew Lickona, author Swimming with Scapulars, which isn’t about swimming at all, but about living as a Catholic in the modern world. Swimming is just one example Lickona raises about how trying to incorporate the Faith into every part of life raises questions and challenges, e.g., what to do you do with your scapular while in the ocean?

And that brings me to today’s question: What do you do with your scapular while running?

I’ve got to admit, for me, the scapular is one of running’s biggest nuisances. The jostling of a run tends to send it in every which direction inside my shirt. Sometimes it gets wrapped around my neck. Sometimes both ends wind up on my back. And others, it just kind of disappears: I know it’s there, but I can’t tell where it’s gone. The end result is I spend a fair amount of my time during runs with my hand stuck up my shirt trying to fish it out and put it back into place.

Gizmos make the situation even worse. I keep my headphone wires under my shirt so that they don’t get caught up in my arms during a run. Of course, that means the wires get entangled with the scapular instead. If they get tangled enough, both can become oppressively tight. To complicate matters further, I also wear a Garmin heart monitor around my chest, so that’s one more item to mix into the jumble.

Then there’s the problem of sweat: During a run, perspiration often causes the scapular to stick to whatever inconvenient place it’s flopped. Afterward, the scapular will be wet and gross when I want to put on nice, clean, dry clothes. And after enough runs, a sweated-in scapular starts to stink. (For a while, I used to keep two scapulars — a normal one to be worn with street clothes, and a stinky one to be worn on runs. The only problem is, the stinky one broke — during a run, of course — leading to its retirement. Now my non-stinky scapular is stinky, too.)

So what to do? I suppose I could simply not wear the scapular during runs, but that doesn’t seem right. The scapular, after all, is supposed to be an expression and reminder of the Faith and the Blessed Mother. Would I really cast that aside just for comfort? How could I prioritize my headphones over it?

Then again, stinking up a sacramental doesn’t seem wholly appropriate, either. Any suggestions on this matter would be greatly appreciated.

Meanwhile, I’ll let the mild discomfort reinforce the scapular’s reminding role. Next time I’m sticking my hand up my shirt, feeling for that little piece of string cinching my neck, I’ll try to remember to offer a prayer!

Kicking Myself ...

... over a missed opportunity. I can't believe I called my December 25 post The Christmas Run, when really, the far superior title should have been obvious: Oh Run All Ye Faithful.

Maybe next year.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

The Christmas Run

Merry Christmas! He is with us!

This year, our family is honoring all its key Christmas traditions: Last night there was the vigil Mass, tamales, and exchanging gifts by the tree. This morning, St. Nicholas’ bounty will be awaiting our little ones when they awake. And tonight there’s Christmas dinner at Grammy’s.

But not to be missed, somewhere in the afternoon, when the kids are taking much-needed naps, will be my beloved Christmas run.

This will be nothing exotic, just my usual 5.2 miler — two times around the 2.6-mile loop that begins and ends at my front door, over the hills and through my sleepy little town. But I can hardly wait.

The Christmas Run is glorious for many reasons, not least of which is that, because today is not a workday, I can take it during actual daylight hours! Then there is the joy of passing through town and getting glimpses of other people’s Christmas celebrations — finely dressed relatives pulling up in their cars, kids trying out new toys, lights and decorations everywhere. It’s also a nice chance to catch a breather, to slow down amid this most wonderfully exhausting time of the year.

Better than all this, though, is that the solitude of a run affords the perfect opportunity to really contemplate the meaning of this marvelous day. And to that end, I will be bringing just the right podcasts along on the run. Not sure which one of these I will actually listen to, but Catholic Answers Live offers some great options:

When Jesus Was Born (with Fr. Mitch Pacwa)
The Difference the Incarnation Makes (with Jeff Cavins)
Characters of the Nativity (with Steve Ray)

Happy listening! Happy running! Merry Christmas!

Oh Night Divine!

I was sitting in my office chair the other morning, feeling spent by the mad pace of Advent, when I was greeted by the tune of “Oh Holy Night” from another office. It was beautiful.

“Oh Holy Night” has to be one of my favorite Christmas songs. I love its gentle, quiet beginning, which seems so evocative of what I imagine that holy night in Bethlehem must have been like; yet it’s infused with such joy, such excitement, such exuberance. In that way, it captures the incredible paradox of the Incarnation — this most triumphant, glorious miracle taking place in this most simple, ordinary of circumstances.

Long lay the world In sin and error pining,

'Til He appear'd And the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope The weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks A new and glorious morn.

At that moment of exhaustion, no sound could have been more welcome. As I wrote the other day, this year my wife and I more or less gave up on our long-held dream of making Advent a less busy, more serene season. It’s just not going to happen: The responsibilities of our vocations, of being good friends, and of honoring our extended family preclude it. So instead, we decided to embrace the chaos, the lack of sleep, the perpetual rush, and offer them up as a penance.

It’s a nice idea, in theory, but hard to live up to. When rushing about, it’s easy to get lost in the moment and forget about consciously lifting that moment to Christ.

But Jesus is good. Occasionally, He reminded us. As He did when he let me hear “Oh Holy Night” the other morning. He reminded me with that placid tune: I am the reason for all this activity. You are preparing for Me.

Exhaustion is a gift. It is precisely at the moment that I feel I have no more to give that I become truly aware of my total dependence on God. Yes, it’s that way always — I cannot so much as take a breath or lift a finger without Him — but it is only when I’m completely run down that this truth becomes more than just an abstraction, but a tangible, overwhelming reality.

This is a big part of why I love long-distance running. If I’m running 3 or 5 miles, it’s easy to think that I am doing so under my own power. Not so with 15, 20, or 26.2. The long run begets the exhaustion that is, in its own way, a preparation for Him. And it is in those last few miles that prayer is, for me anyway, the most powerful. I am placing myself in His hands, asking Him to carry me, at that moment and always.

For as much as I have tried to avoid an exhausting Advent, the exhaustion, it seems, is exactly the Christmas preparation I need.

Fall on your knees! O, hear the angels' voices!

O night divine, O night when Christ was born;

O night divine, O night, O night Divine.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Beat Me to the Punch!

Shucks! For the last month, I've been mulling over a runners' version of the "12 Days of Christmas" to post here at Running Catholic. But wouldn't you know it, the Ask the Running Doc blog has stolen my thunder. You can read the whole thing over there, or just see the Day 12 round-up below:

On the 12th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me
Twelve race entries
Eleven baby aspirins
Ten salt packets
Nine tubs of lube
Eight pairs of socks
Seven Runner's Rule Books
Six Elvis bagels
Five blister blocks
Four nipple guards
Three short shorts
Two Gel Kayanos,
And this blog to stay in-ju-ry free!

Oh well: early bird, worm, and all that. Although I did like what was going to be my first-day item:

... and a nagging knee injury!

Maybe next year!

The Answer My Friend is Running in The Wind

Tim here. Here on the left coast, the sun has just set and dinner is in the oven. What that means to me, is that in about two hours, the kiddos will be down for the night and I will get a much-needed opportunity to run. Yep, I run at night. Solely at night during this time of year. I took today off from work and still was unable to eek out an hour to run.

So, that means that I'll continue my chase of a small dot of light on a dirt path surrounded by a sea of darkness. Although I never seem to catch it, I don't give up.

All of this brings to mind a particular night several years ago. On a New Year's Eve, I was coaxed by my adventuresome brother-in-law, who came to visit from out of state, to enter a 5k race at the last minute. As it is when family visits, I eagerly accommodate my guests and look for ways to spend quality time together. So, why was it that I decided that running in the middle of the night in a howling Santa Ana wind of 40+ miles per hour in pitch black in a foreign place with inadequate lighting would constitute "quality time?" Who knows, but that's what I did.

The race was and is known as the Year 2 Year run. As the name suggests, the race starts the new year running. The race started 10 minutes before midnight and ended in the New Year. It was really quite exciting and novel.

But that particular year, the nascent race was visited by our locally-dreaded Santa Ana winds, which regularly gust at over 60 miles per hour. This doesn't really sound like much of a problem during an out and back 5k race; if it slowed you down one way, it should speed you up incredibly the other. However, the wind came almost entirely from the side, blowing dirt and tumbleweeds across the course. Worse still, the entire course was planned to be lit by smudge pots, that is small fires. Before the race began, these had all blown out. All that was left for lighting were a bunch of glow sticks bobbing along in the dark and one sole headlamp worn by a brilliant (pun intended) runner. The organizers placed musicians at each smudge pot, but, due to the wind, they couldn't be seen or heard. It was quite a pity.

So, the race is being offered in only 8 days once again. My brother-in-law and I will once again be entering and expect a much more pleasant experience.

If you are in the area of Southern California and have vowed to run more, I invite you to join us for the run! We'll have a blast.

Registration is available before hand through December 27.

Also, if you have decided to join the 10k on New Years Day, we can schedule an ad hoc 10k in the dark thereafter. I will provide the lights.

"No one who lights a lamp hides it away or places it under a bushel basket, but on a lampstand so that those who enter might see the light." Luke 11:33

Any takers?

Here Comes Everybody

Hi, Tim here: a new voice to the Running Catholic blog. Although you may not hear from me all that regularly, I will try to try to add another perspective to the marriage of running and Catholicism.

I am not bold enough to compare myself in any way to the disciple Jesus loved, but because Chris (Cephas?) feels like Peter while running, I’ll assume the role of John and all that that entails (more swift of foot and a step behind St. Peter spiritually).

Note to self: add to my list of pilgrimages to take after retirement to run the route Mary Magdala, Peter and John ran. Anyone interested in joining me in June of 2039? We’d better stay in shape until then!

Inasmuch as the title of this blog includes the word "catholic," it seems reasonable that its authorship should not be limited to a single voice. After all, anything catholic, meaning universal, is marked by unity of many. Multiple voices should support the one-ness (catholicity) of runningcatholic.com; unity, but not uniformity.

In what ways are these runners who are Catholic, heterodox in their running? Are all runners so studly that they can pound out a dozens or more miles in a single afternoon and in excess of a hundred of mile per month? Not this runner! Are all so diligent that they run most days of the week and every weekend without exception? Not this one. Instead of basing my running knowledge on the latest running magazine or solid modern scientific knowledge, I base everything I know about running on a single 30-year old book I picked up at a thrift store for $2.

We runners are heterodox in our running, but in our catholicity we are one:

We believe in one God,
the Father, the Almighty,
maker of heaven and earth,
of all that is, seen and unseen.

We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,
the only Son of God,
eternally begotten of the Father,
God from God, Light from Light,
true God from true God,
begotten, not made,
one in Being with the Father.
Through him all things were made.
For us men and for our salvation
he came down from heaven:
by the power of the Holy Spirit
he was born of the Virgin Mary, and became man.
For our sake he was crucified under Pontius Pilate;
he suffered, died, and was buried.
On the third day he rose again in fulfillment of the Scriptures;
he ascended into heaven and is seated at the right hand of the Father.
He will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead,
and his kingdom will have no end.

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life,
who proceeds from the Father and the Son.
With the Father and the Son he is worshiped and glorified.
He has spoken through the Prophets.

We believe in one holy catholic and apostolic Church.
We acknowledge one baptism for the forgiveness of sins.
We look for the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come. Amen.

Tales from the Trail: Staying Dry

It’s a small world. I was one of 17,000 runners at the L.A. Marathon this year, yet somehow I managed to recognize an acquaintance amid the throng of strangers.

I got a late start, in large part because I decided to miss the initial rush of runners and visit the porta-potties when the starting gun was going off. (Thanks to the blessing of timing chips, starting late doesn’t matter!) But that means I spent much of the first few miles passing people. One of them, I noticed, was wearing a pro-life bumper sticker on his back, which is, trust me, not a common sight in Los Angeles. So as I passed this brave soul, I decided to turn my head and glance at his face — only to discover that it was one of my mother-in-law’s friends, someone I didn’t even know was a runner!

We exchanged a quick and hello and he told me that his 30ish son, Brendan, was also running that day, somewhere up ahead. That was happy news. Brendan had been in a severe car accident years ago, from which he was still recovering. To hear that he was running a marathon was both hopeful and inspiring.

Anyway, fast forward to a couple of weeks later, and I’m visiting my doctor about the marathon’s most enduring legacy — a sore knee. My doctor happens to also be the family physician for Brendan and his dad. (As I said, small world.) So I told him about the wonderful coincidence of encountering them at the race, and that moved him to tell me an even better story.

10 for '10

RunningMom over at Of Running and Parenting has a good idea for how to ring in 2010: Run 10k. Not necessarily a formal, organized race, but 10 kilometers, anywhere, anytime, on New Year's Day. She's calling it a Virtual Group Run, and she's trying to get as many runners as she can to participate.

Count me in. I'm a sucker for a good gimmick, and I'm always happy for an excuse to run on a holiday.

Any other takers?

I'm Trying Not To Take It Personally ...

... but according to my traffic report, a reader recently found this blog by using "slow running" as a search term. Thanks a bunch, Google!

Tales from the Trail: When Sidewalks Attack

When I can, I like to take the kids with me on a run. It spells my wife a bit, thus making me feel less guilty about going, and it’s fun to have the kiddos along. Often, when I’m out on my weekly long run, one of my older children will join me for my first loop, riding a scooter, so as to more or less keep up. At least in theory.

A couple weeks ago, though, it didn’t work out so well. Kolbe, our oldest boy (age 5), was with me, leading the way down a long, gentle slope, and flying — which he loves. The boy is built for speed. Unfortunately, the sidewalk on which he was riding was not. Suddenly, from one concrete segment to the next, the level jumped about two inches, leaving what can only be described as a 2-inch wall smack in the middle of the sidewalk — just high enough to stop a Razor scooter dead in its tracks.

Which it did. Kolbe, however, kept on flying. Literally in this case, launching several feet across the sidewalk before landing with a thud. Typically, the boy has lighting-fast reflexes (you should see how quickly he can flatten his younger brother), but in this instance, he must have been too shocked by the impending horror, because he seemingly did absolutely nothing to break his fall. And while he was wearing a helmet, the helmet emerged from this calamity entirely unscathed — unlike Kolbe’s forehead, which had a walnut-sized knot on it, complemented by scrapes to the nose and chin.

I rushed to my son, who, albeit bloodied and distraught, was, mercifully, fine (no concussions, broken bones, etc.). And, equipped with little more than my running watch, all I could do was hold him. We were about a mile from home at this point, and he was too upset to walk, so we just waited. I put a call into my wife, and as soon as she was able to get the rest of the crew in the minivan, she came to pick Kolbe up.

Meanwhile, a neighbor who had been working on his car was watching the whole scene. And in a moment, he approached us with an ice pack in hand. It was just what we needed — something to keep down the swelling and to provide Kolbe with a much-appreciated distraction.

A sad episode, but one wrapped in a welcome reminder of the way the Lord’s kindness is often made manifest in His people.

“Love one another with brotherly affection;
outdo one another in showing honor.”

— Romans 12:10

Tales from the Trail: Good Samaritans

Runners are, on the whole, a rather cold lot. I’m often surprised how often fellow runners won’t so much as wave to one another while they’re running, as though expending that ounce of energy on simple friendliness could add a second to their time. It’s all the worse at races when, having prepared for months, no one wants to slow down for anything. But not always.

Last spring I ran a great half-road/half-trail half-marathon. At about the 8-mile mark, deep into the trail portion of the race and a good three miles from the nearest first-aid or water station, one woman lost her breakfast. She stood there on the side of the trail, heaving, and looking miserable. I suspect the misery had less to do with getting sick, though, and more with her being disappointed and embarrassed.

But the beautiful thing: As I approached her (yes, even the vomiting runners were ahead of me), she was surrounded by fellow runners. A good six or eight — probably more attention than she would have liked, frankly, but welcome nonetheless — were all there offering water or whatever help they could provide. I remember hearing one man, apparently sensing her embarrassment say, “We’ve all been there.”

There were a lot of good Samarians running that race that day, truly being “neighbors” to a fellow runner in need.

Fourth Runday of Advent: Tales from the Trail

For these last few days of Advent, I thought I would do something a little different. Namely, I want to inaugurate a new Running Catholic feature, one that will pop up from time to time as circumstances warrant: Tales from the Trail. The title is not to be taken too literally — many of these stories come not from a trail, but from a road, or a track, but that’s beside the point. What matters is that they are real-life examples of true human kindness and decency that I or others have witnessed while running. This is, for me, one of running’s great joys: When traveling by foot, we are able to see much more of the life that takes place around us. Sometimes, the characters we meet and the examples we see along the way make the run all the more worthwhile. Tales from the Trail is an effort to share some of these personalities and stories with a broader audience.

Tales from the Trail: The Sexagenarian Angel
Downtown Los Angeles, just past dawn. I’m waiting for the start of the L.A. Marathon amid the throngs of thousands, making chit-chat with anyone who’s interested. Perhaps sensing that I am game for some gab, a 60-something woman works her way through the crowd and comes right up to me. Immediately, she starts asking questions. Where am I from? Is this my first marathon?

I answer and return the volleys. She has been running L.A for some 20-odd years. And she has stories to tell. One good one stands out.

Two years ago, she was running the race at her slow but steady pace when, about midway through, she stumbled upon a twenty-something young lady who was falling to pieces. This “girl,” as the sexagenarian called her, simply wasn’t prepared. She was exhausted, her feet hurt, and she was crying. She had already given up on running, and was now walking, periodically calling her mom on her cell phone for emotional support. She was ready to quit.

Well, our sexagenarian marathoner wasn’t going to stand for that. “I told that girl that we were going to finish this race. Me and her. I told her I’d walk beside her the whole way till we were done.” And she did. The prepared sexagenarian didn’t give a second’s thought to her own race time, and instead supported the unprepared 20-something the whole way. “She would call her mom on the phone and say, ‘Mom, Mom, you’re not going to believe it, but there’s a lady here your age who’s helping me!’”

After crossing the finish line, they hugged and parted ways, but the story doesn’t end there. One year later, when the sexagenarian was running L.A. yet again, she crossed the finish line and this time — much to her delight — was met by the twenty-something, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Hebrews 13:2).

It’s the Most Wonderfully Exhausting Time of the Year

Every year, my wife and I pledge that this Advent will be different — less focused on getting stuff done, and more focused on spiritual preparation. But every year, this one included, that noble sentiment is overwhelmed by the crushing force of reality. There are family celebrations to tend to, gifts for nieces and nephews to purchase and send off, Advent parties, “Nutcracker” rehearsals for our daughter, Christmas cards to write. Then there’s running.

Somehow, in the midst of this madness is the pressing need to keep up with my running schedule: because I’ve got a marathon to run in three months, because my sanity depends on it, and because I have to do something to burn off all the Christmas cookies, pumpkin pie, and omnipresent chocolates. But finding time is hard, and finding the energy when I routinely go to bed too late and wake up too early is harder still.

Jeff Galloway offers some useful tips to getting in holiday-season runs. The two best, for me anyway, are “plan ahead” and “pick quiet times” (i.e., go when everyone is asleep). Throughout Advent, I’ve been planning my runs a week in advance — it’s the only way I’ve been able to make sure they happen. And true enough, several of these runs have had to come bright and early, when everyone else was asleep. (This isn’t very conducive to rest, but it does get the job done.)

Of course, this doesn’t answer the spiritual dilemma: How does squeezing in one more activity into the day help with the spiritual preparation? Answer: It doesn’t, but it can.

Seeing that we are either unwilling or unable to shake most of the season’s responsibilities, my wife and I have tried this year to think of our current, insane pace of life as its own kind of penance. The lack of sleep — a penance. The constant treks and tasks — a penance. The inevitable computer meltdowns as I try to print out labels for the Christmas cards — a penance.

Likewise, running in the cold and dark can be a penance. Or running on insufficient sleep. Or, for that matter, foregoing a run altogether because there are more important obligations elsewhere. The point is: Any burden can be offered up, and any activity can be coupled with prayer. If we are unable to make Advent a time of peaceful preparation, then at least maybe we can make it a time of fitful preparation. (As an aside, I’ve been trying, with mixed success, to incorporate the Joyful Mysteries into some runs.)

Oh come, oh come, Emmanuel!

The Best Catholic Running Movie Ever

The envelope please. … And now, for the category of Best Catholic Running Movie Ever, the winner is —

Wait a minute, you’re saying. What do you mean “Best Catholic Running Movie?” Has there ever been even one Catholic Running Movie?

Why, yes. Glad you asked. And a fine one, too. Chariots of Fire, winner of the 1981 Best Picture Oscar.

Hold on, you say, how in the world does Chariots of Fire qualify as a Catholic movie? Yes, its two main characters run for reasons connected to their religions. But one is a Protestant, the other a Jew. No Catholics here.

Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.

A little context: My wife and I got Chariots of Fire on Netflix last year and loved it. Based on the true story of Eric Liddell and Harold Abrahams, two runners who ran for the British Olympic team in 1924, it is the powerful tale of two men who, although running under their country’s flag, do not, in fact, run for their country at all. Liddell, a Protestant missionary, runs to bear witness to the Gospel. (Heroically, he declines to compete in a medal race rather than run on the Sabbath.) Abrahams, a seemingly unobservant Jew, runs to fight back against the anti-Semitic bigotry he has endured throughout most of his life.

But as I learned when Googling the movie after seeing it, there’s more to the story.

Command Me This

Being a Christian, it turns out, is much easier than being a runner. That’s because while the Christian has 10 Commandments to obey, it turns out that the runner has a whopping 53! Or at least so says Joe Kelly, who has authored the 53 Runner’s Commandments. There are some nuggets of true wisdom here, such as:

3. Don’t make running your life. Make it part of your life.
7. The faster you are the less you should talk about your times.
14. When standing in starting lines, remind yourself how fortunate you are to be there.
18. Don’t talk about your running injuries. People don’t want to hear about your sore knee or black toe.

And some of this is just plain funny:

28. If you say, “Let’s run this race together,” then you must stay with that person no matter how slow.
29. Think twice before agreeing to run with someone during a race.
33. Never throw away the instructions to your running watch.

I would just add one item:

54. Never take a long run after drinking beer and eating a cheeseburger, onion rings, and ice cream the night before.

Any other additions?

Offering It Up

Before running the L.A. Marathon last year, it occurred to me that I might need some extra motivation to carry me through those later miles. When I was sore and miserable, I figured, I would need a really good reason — indeed, a cause — to inspire me to the finish line.

So I spent some time thinking and praying about it, and finally, the idea hit me: Mr. C.

Mr. C was the dad of my childhood best friend and the first marathoner I ever knew. He was passionate about his running, and in some small way, his example helped spur my own desire to run a marathon some 20 years after I used to watch him come and go on his training runs from my friend’s house on late summer afternoons. As I wrote yesterday, Mr. C committed suicide about a dozen years ago.

Knowing that prayers are never wasted, and that Mr. C’s soul and his family may be able to use my intercession, I decided to offer up any suffering during the marathon day (and, alas, there was much of it!) for him.

While the spiritual benefits of that effort, for now anyway, remain unknown, the tangible benefits for yours truly were powerful. It really did make each post-hitting-the-wall step (a little bit) easier knowing that, in some way, this good man and his family might be benefitting.

Suffering, it is said, should never be wasted. And running, it should be noted, offers it in spades. Uniting that suffering with Christ's is a good way to make long runs more than just exercise, but a sacrifice and a prayer.

On Top with Alltop!

I’m happy to report that RunningCatholic has been added to the Alltop running blogs aggregator — a handy page that offers links to the most recent posts of a few dozen top running blogs.  A hearty welcome to our new Alltop readers!

For everyone else, check it out at running.alltop.com — one-stop shopping for all your running-blog needs!

Running in Sorrow

Ultra-marathoner Dean Karnazes has a somber post up at his blog entitled Runner’s Low, which deals with an acquaintance of his — a fellow endurance racer — who committed suicide. Karnazes notes that depression is complex, and there probably is no single “reason” why this fellow took his life. But Karnazes can’t help wondering: Did running have something to do with it?

One of the most troubling aspects of this tragedy is that in every interaction I had with this individual, he was incredibly upbeat and energetic. … I never would have suspected that he harbored thoughts of taking his own life. Unfortunately, with suicide, I guess that’s not unusual … Endurance athletes can be prone to depression. We experience great emotional highs from doing what we love, but the post-event lows can sometimes be correspondingly devastating.

The story reminds me of a sad one from my own past. The first marathoner I ever knew was my best friend’s dad growing up. “Mr. C” ran like crazy. Every day, it seemed, for hours. He ran numerous marathons, including Boston. He was an avid cyclist, too. And like Dean Karnazes’ friend, he was incredibly upbeat — truly one of the most jocular, funny people I have ever met.

But unbeknownst to most, he struggled with depression. And one day about a dozen years ago, he lost his job. That drove him over the edge. He, too, killed himself.

Unlike the case Karnazes cites, I don’t think Mr. C was suffering from “runners’ low.” But I do wonder if his constant training wasn’t some form of self-medication. Maybe he needed those endorphins to keep him balanced.

This is something most of us runners can relate to. We know the good feelings that come with regular workouts, and that sense of “going crazy” we experience when we have gone a few days too many without a run. There is, indeed, such a thing as a runner’s high, and running can, in its own way, be addictive.

Innately, there is nothing bad about this. God designed our bodies this way, and the healthy benefits of exercise, both physical and psychological, are gifts. But like all His gifts in a fallen world, they can be corrupted or abused. Likewise, they can be made into false gods of a sort — when the runner starts living only for the run itself. In the life of the Christian, all good things, be it running or anything else, must be oriented around God and serving His will, or they cease to be good at all. The runner needs God as much as anyone — especially whe he is feeling strong, independent, and invincible.

Let’s keep Karnazes’ friend and Mr. C in our prayers: Dear Lord, please bring Your eternal peace to these fallen runners and please console their loved ones and families. Amen.

Bad Idea of the Day:

Texting while running ... and pushing a jogstroller.

Somebody put a call into Child Welfare, stat!

Stupidest. Running. Ad. Campaign. Ever.

If you get the running magazines, you’ve seen this one. Big headline:

LET’S FOLLOW

THE BABY BOOM WITH

A RUNNER BOOM

It’s an ad for Pearl Izumi running shoes, and it’s so ridiculously bad that, in the interest of the public good, it deserves some mockery. Allow me.

The text begins:

Imagine that. An entire generation of runners just waiting to lace up. You see, everyone is born to run. After all, each and every one of us is the product of eons of natural selection. Those who ran, survived.

Translation: You, potential customer, are one of the superhumans! The pinnacle of natural selection! (This is the sort of attitude that makes most people think — oftentimes rightly — that runners are egomaniacs.)

But today, thanks to the safety net of modern society, natural selection is no longer so selective. So now it’s up to us, the runners.

Translation: Danger! Untermensch have entered the gene pool! What the world needs now is a good dose of Margaret Sanger and moisture-wicking ware!

We used our legs to get homo sapiens to the top of the food chain. Now, to keep us there, we will have to use what’s between them.

Translation: We thought we would insert this line just in case this ad wasn’t in poor enough taste already.

To preserve something as important as running, it’s the least we can do. It’s also the most. So breed like an animal. Run like an animal.

Translation: Just don’t think like an animal. No beast worth his salt would be inspired by this sort of asininity.

Yes, I get that this is a joke. I understand that no one at the Pearl Izumi Co. is really pushing for a runners-based eugenics. (Although the company’s itsarunner.com website, which allows visitors to genetically engineer their own perfect running “children,” is well, a little creepy.) What I don’t get is how anyone can believe that this achingly pathetic attempt to sound “edgy” will help them sell sneakers.

If only the fittest survive, then Pearl Izumi ought to go bankrupt by year’s end.

Gaudete Runday

I love the Third Sunday of Advent. Here we are in what’s supposed to be a preparatory, penitential season, and all of sudden the Church says, “Hold on. This is too exciting — Jesus is coming! Jesus is coming! Hooray! Rejoice! Priests can wear pink rose! Woo-hoo!”

Just for a day. Then on Monday, it’s back to penitence once again. But we’ve had a taste. We know what glories lie just around the corner.

Alas, this “Third Runday of Advent” will, for yours truly, not be a Runday, which is kind of a shame. But the family calendar is just too full: After Mass, some friends are coming over for brunch. Then we’re getting the tree. Then we’re decorating the tree. And the house. And putting up the lights.

Still, it may be for the best. I was planning on running 15 miles today, which at this point in my training, is probably much more penitential than joyful. It may be more in keeping with the spirit of the day if I take it easy. Who knows, if I get lucky, maybe I can get in a shorty sometime this afternoon. That would be a joy. (I tried to get in my 15 yesterday amid torrential rains, but gave up after 5 miles when the puddles got too big for me to jump over, and my running pants got so waterlogged that they started to fall down.)

Anyway, have a wonderful Gaudete Sunday, everyone, and may the rest of your Advent be filled with blessings!

Good News! Running Won't Kill You!

File this under News of the Obvious: Researchers spend great sums of money to prove what was already self-evidently true. In this case they have found that running in general and marathoning in particular are not likely to kill you. Sort of makes sense, doesn’t it? Something that strengthens your heart and lungs while purging your body of cholesterol might actually be good for you? But long-distance running has received some bad press lately. As the Riverside Press-Enterprise reports:

Since September, at least half a dozen participants have died while running half marathons held in Virginia Beach, Va., San Jose and Detroit, where three men died in the same race.

Which is tragic, but not necessarily representative of a greater trend. The story continues:

Medical experts say long-distance race deaths are widely reported because they are dramatic. Victims tend to be young and athletic. Race training also requires weeks of long-distance preparation runs, which often leave people asking how weeks of training could end in a runner's death.

Still:

Despite the anecdotes, research indicates few people die during long-distance runs.

Dr. Jeffrey Brand, attending cardiologist at Loma Linda University, said there doesn't appear to be any risk of an immediate cardiac episode for runners. Brand, who is 38, said he started running while in medical school and has run several marathons in Los Angeles.

"The risk of dying is pretty low," he said, adding that the fact that three runners died during the Detroit race "is completely out of character."

In 2007, University of Toronto researchers found 26 runner deaths after studying 3.3 million runners in 750 marathons held during a 30-year period. They determined that the risk of death was 0.8 per 100,000 runners.…

Meanwhile, researchers at Duke University in Durham, N.C., have discovered that aerobic exercise, such as running, without a change in diet can improve people's health and affect levels of good and bad cholesterol and insulin resistance.

I must admit that I’m posting this story primarily for the benefit of my mother, who’s convinced that running is going to do me in. She even bought me a GPS watch with a heart monitor, hoping that I’d get sufficiently advance notice of the Big One. Hopefully this will make Mom feel better. It makes me feel better, anyway. Tragedies like those from the Detroit Marathon may be rare, but they still ought to give the runner pause. There’s a reason why race organizers make you put next-of-kin info on the back of your bib, and why I always add to mine, “In case of life-threatening injury, contact a Catholic priest.”

Running a marathon is, I guess, kind of like flying commercially. I know, statistically, that it’s very safe, but just the same, I like to get to confession beforehand.

H/T: Runners Write

A Glorious Mystery, First Decade

Ever hear one of those stories about outrageously lucky, struck-upon fortune? You know, the guy who unwittingly purchases a Picasso for $5 at a garage sale, or who discovers a diamond necklace in the lining of a trench coat he picked up at the thrift shop?

I’m that guy.

Through no doing of my own, I stumbled upon the greatest prize 10 years ago today. An amazing woman, far better than I ever hoped for, let alone deserved, pledged before God to be my wife till death do us part. A decade later, I still marvel at my good fortune. Some people’s vocation is to live lives of great penance and hardship. Me: I get to spend my days and nights with the most delightful person I’ve ever met. Not fair, I know. All I can guess is that God gives us as much as we can handle — and He knew I wasn’t up to handling much.

So what has this got to do with running, you ask? Well, not much, except to say that my wife’s attitude toward my running is a good example of her overall approach to our marriage: one of tremendous graciousness and generosity.

She doesn’t complain that I disappear for hours every Sunday to take a long run. She lovingly gets me gel blasts and Gatorade when she’s out and about. She doesn’t blink at credit-card bills with hefty charges from sneaker stores and race fees. Indeed, she even kindly encourages these things, recognizing how good running has been for both my body and soul. And the other day, she surprised me with an early Christmas present — a pair of sweet running gloves — because it was dang cold and she didn’t want me to hit the road with socks over my hands.

But the running examples are truly just a microcosmic example of her overall way — always loving, always serving, always giving, whether it’s in the way she helps me with work, listens to me, or takes such wonderful care of our precious four little ones.

That said, it’s not all hugs and flowers. When I’m out of line, she sets me straight. With a smile and soft words, to be sure, but nonetheless, she won’t gloss over problems. She takes both our vocation and my salvation seriously. She’s committed to making a marriage that works, to raising a holy family, and to doing all she can to help me get into Heaven. (And I need all the help I can get.)

No doubt about it, I hit the vocational jackpot.

Thank you, Mary Kate, for 10 glorious years.

And thank you God, for Mary Kate!

What Do You Listen To?

I have nothing but admiration for the runners I see out there who can chug along with no headphones in sight. Clearly these are much deeper, more thoughtful people than yours truly. I need sound. Otherwise, running gets boring. Fast.

For the most part, I’m a podcast kind of guy. I listen to a lot of Catholic Answers Live and EWTN (especially "The Journey Home" and "Bookmark") to keep me going. The dialogue fills the mind. Sometimes, if I get really into whatever I’m listening to, I’ll suddenly look up and discover that miles have passed without my notice — a good distraction on long runs.

But late in a long run, when I’m weak and tired, I switch to music, with one caveat: It has to be fast. I need a pounding beat. Enough volume and a speedy tempo can give me a second wind. For that, I go to the hard rock of my misspent youth: Rush, Living Colour, and, on occasion, Metallica. (A couple of embarrassing running favorites: Hearts on Fire from Rocky IV — gotta love that training sequence — and the Anthrax/Public Enemy version of the aptly titled Bring the Noise.)

I try more spiritual music sometimes, too. I had a beautiful recording of Ave Maria that I used for awhile, and the Christian rock songs from Fireproof are upbeat and positive. (They include some Third Day, which is always a good thing.)

I always appreciate recommendations, though, and I'm sure other readers would like some, too. Know of any quality audio for the run — something edifying, or energizing, or just plain good? Please send along your suggestions!

Jeff Galloway, Class Act

Over at his blog, onetime Olympic runner Jeff Galloway comes out in defense of the “Peters” of the world — those of us who run the good race (in this case, marathons) albeit at the back of the pack. His post comes in response to an earlier New York Times article, Plodders Have a Place, but Is It in a Marathon?, which includes the following quote from Adrienne Wald, the women’s cross-country coach at the College of New Rochelle:

It’s a joke to run a marathon by walking every other mile or by finishing in six, seven, eight hours. … It used to be that running a marathon was worth something — there used to be a pride saying that you ran a marathon, but not anymore. Now it’s, ‘How low is the bar?’

Now, as someone who ran his first marathon last spring at a less-than-blazing 4:48, I could protest. I could mount some of the lame defenses put forth by others in the New York Times article: that merely achieving a feat that less than 1 percent of the population accomplishes is significant, that my race fee helps subsidize the sport for the elites, that anything that gets our overweight country exercising is a good thing. I could, but I won’t, because it wouldn’t mean much. Of course I’d say that.

So it’s nice when a Real Runner like Jeff Galloway comes to our aid. He could look down on the 99 percent of runners who, like me, are unfit to loosen his shoe laces, but instead, he sees our feeble imitation as the sincerest form of flattery. He appreciates the gifts he’s been given, without being so prideful as to disdain those whose gifts lie elsewhere:

We need to salute the efforts of those at the back who did not inherit the genetic material to run on a collegiate cross country team, but who inserted training into busy career and family schedules, improved their health and inspire others.

In short, a class act. God bless you, Jeff!

And lest any of those super-speedy runners get too haughty, remember this.

The Running Nun

+ FEAST OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION +

Here's a story that inspires: Alicia Torres, age 24, wants to become a sister at Our Lady of the Angels, a new Franciscan community on Chicago's West Side. But there's an obstacle to her vocation: $94,000 in student loans. You see, you can't take a vow of poverty until you're debt-free. So she's decided to hit the roads — and the Net — to do something about it.

Miss Torres has started a blog and a fundraising project by the name of TheNunRun. Although not previously a runner, she's been entering road races and asking sponsors to donate in her behalf to the Laboure Society, a fund that exists specifically to relieve would-be religious sisters, brothers, and seminarians of their debts. Her story has received a ton of press, including stories on NPR, Relevant Radio, the L.A. Times, the Chicago Tribune, and Our Sunday Visitor.

And wouldn't you know it, she's caught the running bug. She now wants to start a running club for the inner-city kids around her monastery, and even hopes that the athletic apparel companies will design her a technical habit!

For anyone looking for a good cause to support in your next race, be sure to consider the Laboure Society and TheNunRun. Our Lady of the Angels, pray for Alicia!

Running with the Devil

Well, here's a post I've very much been not wanting to write, which probably means it's one that needs to be written. I haven't cared to write it because, well, it will make me look like quite the heel (running pun only somewhat intended). But since I spend a lot of time on this blog ruminating in a pollyanna-ish kind of way about how wonderful running is, I suppose I should also point some of its potential downsides.

Like everything else in this world, running offers all kinds of temptation to sin, with pride and vanity being the most obvious examples.  But sometimes unexpected and unusual temptations can present themselves, too. Here's my story about falling down —morally, that is — while on a run.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and I offered to take my two oldest children with me to the local track, which they love. While I run my 20 laps or so, they usually play in the bleachers, or on the football field, and have a grand old time. Well, on this Saturday when we arrived a peewee football tournament was underway, with two or even three games going on simultaneously on the field in the middle of the track. "How charming," I thought. I've run around the track during these games before, and it's always been positively Norman Rockwell-esque, as I've enjoyed watching the young ballers play while I get in my five miles. My kids sat down to watch the games, and I put on my headphones, anticipating a delightfully relaxing run.

It didn't work out that way. On lap 1, a bunch of youth cheerleaders were standing on part of the track, doing their routine while the game progressed in back of them. So I ran behind them, politely, I thought, so as not to obstruct the view of any parents who were trying to watch them.

Much to my surprise, when I approached the same area on lap 2, I was met by Cheerleading Mom.

"Could you please not run in front or behind of the cheerleaders?" she asked.

"It has to be be one or the other," I replied.

"Well, could you not run at all?"

"No."

Hey, I'm a taxpayer, darnit. Can't tell me I can't use the track I help pay for. Puffed up on that powerful cocktail of endorphins and adrenaline, I wasn't going to let some Cheerleading Mom tell me what to do. What kind of "sport" is youth cheerleading anyway? I kept on running.

Second Runday of Advent: A Day Without a Marathon

Well, as I mentioned a few days back, today is the day that I am supposed to be running the inaugural Santa Barbara Marathon. Sadly, a slew of setbacks has derailed that dream, which makes for a disappointing day. But alas, not all is lost: It is the Second Runday of Advent, and because Sunday is (usually) my long-run day, I will be celebrating with 13 miles this afternoon. Half as much as I had been hoping for, but enough to put some tension in the old legs, anyway.

Besides, I have no business complaining. I've got my faith, my family, and my health. And as icing on the proverbial cake, I've also got this to look forward to:



Just watching that video gets me pumped. I ran L.A. last year, and it was a great experience, but the route wasn't much to write home about. A "festival of blights," as the inestimable Tina Dupuy called it. But the 2010 route is everything a big-city marathon course should be — a tour of all the town's major landmarks and attractions, so that when you're done, you can say you've seen that city in a way a few (well, about 14,000 anyway) ever have.

And it's a mere 104 days away ... assuming no more setbacks!

The Running Woman

Although I realize that the two words “Sarah” and “Palin,” when used together, make for the most viscerally charged phrase in American political discourse, rest assured this is not a political post. I had my fill of politics long ago and would be perfectly pleased if this blog never touched on the topic.

But a few months back the former vice-presidential candidate appeared in the I’m a Runner feature in Runner’s World — something that went largely unnoticed at the time, but became Big News a few weeks ago when Newsweek used one of the RW photos for its cover. Anyway, the interview had some nuggets that I enjoyed, precisely because they were apolitical. Such as when Palin was asked whether running is nonpartisan:

Oh, thank God, it’s nonpartisan. It doesn’t matter your background, your demographics, your race, your political affiliation—it’s such a uniting, healthy, fun, awesome activity. It cracks me up going to some running event and seeing some dude who campaigned so hard against me, or a lady who’s been blogging some mean comments about me. But we’re all there together and we’re smiling and we’re having a good time because we’re going to do something healthy and active. We need more of that. That’s what sports are able to do. It’s a wonderful kind of diversion from the divisiveness that is politics or that is life.

Amen to that. One of the worst aspects of American politics is it’s so dehumanizing, with Sarah Palin being the ultimate case in point. Politicians cease to be people; they’re symbols, to be reviled or revered depending on one’s ideological loyalties. Running seems to be one of the few aspects of American culture that has, so far anyway, been unspoiled by political tribalism, and that’s refreshing.

Then there’s Palin on getting through a tough race (the running kind):

(My dad) used to tell us to call on the rock during a race when we were hurting and we were tired and wanted to quit. He always told us to articulate what it is we’ve trained for, what it is we’re prepared for, and hold onto it when it hurts so bad in a race. We all have a different rock, but Dad inspired us with the knowledge that we could reach down deep and get strength from it. And that’s not just a lesson when you’re out there dying on the 23rd mile of a marathon but one for getting through daily life. Sometimes you’ve got to call upon your rock to get through the tough times.

So what’s her “rock?”

First and foremost, like my Mom’s inspiration has always been, I have my faith in God. Then I have all the preparation, so I know I can get through it. It’s kind of like I’ve been there before and the best part of the rock I can call upon is the preparation that allows me to know that I can get through it.

Nice to see her name her faith among the list. In my experience, when the road gets really challenging, it’s the only “rock” that still holds up long after the others have crumbled.

Advice for the Injured

I once heard a young, new mother — somewhat exasperated by constant parenting tips from well-meaning but overly intrusive relatives — say, “There’s nothing less welcome than unsolicited advice.”

As an Opinionated Jerk, I’ve tried (not very effectively, I might add) to keep that maxim in mind over the years, and to keep my suggestions to myself, unless someone asks for them. So you can imagine how pleased I was when a friend recently sent me a note asking what I thought he should do about his recurring shin-splints problem. As someone who has suffered from that common running ailment (and others), I was all too glad to pass along what I’ve leaned. And here it is:

1. After sustaining your injury, wait a long time to start again, like 4-8 weeks. You need to let the shins heal completely, otherwise you’ll just aggravate your injury.
   
2. Build up super slowly. The main cause of shin splints is building up too fast. So add to your mileage at a very slow rate. (The number I often see quoted is no more than a 10 percent increase a week.)
3. Start out on soft surfaces — i.e., sand, grass, track. Avoid pavement and hills at first and concrete always. Then slowly work pavement/hills into your regimen. First once a week, then twice, etc.
4. Ice whatever ails you three times a day. For shin splints, there's a handy item called "Shin Ice," which is an ice pack designed to fit around that part of your leg. (You can buy it at Amazon or a million other places on the web.) When I was recovering from shin splints I used Shin Ices on both legs three times a day: when I first got up, after a run (or, if I wasn't running that day, sometime in the afternoon), and once again at night. What's nice is you don't have to sit/lie down to use them — you can still play with the kids, etc. (The downside: After soaking up some sweat, they start to stink!)
5. Try to stretch that part of your leg a lot. Lifting yourself up and down by your toes is an easy way to do it, an can be done at any time, if only for a few seconds, here and there.  

Finally, this being a Catholic blog and all, I would add to pray for patience. Having to sit out weeks of running, while your conditioning falls to pot, is hard. Running tedious loops around the track and building up mileage in baby steps can be frustrating. And when we runners are suffering the pangs of endorphin withdrawal, we can be an unpleasant lot. Here’s a good prayer for patience and gentleness:

Bestow on me, O Lord, a genial spirit and unwearied forbearance;
a mild, loving, patient, heart;
kindly looks, pleasant cordial speech, and manners
in the exchange of daily life;
that I may give offence to none,
but as much as in lies live in charity with all men.

(Johann Arndt, 1555-1621)

These Guys Rule

The other day I was bellyaching about how the running magazines don’t much take family life into consideration, and how maybe only the childless and single can be Truly Great Runners. Then I read about these guys.

Zac Freudenburg and Michael Wardian did not just compete in, and did not just finish, but won (first and second place) Tulsa’s Route 66 Marathon last month — while pushing jog strollers. Their times: 2:32:10 and 2:34:37, respectively.

Awesome.

I’ve taken bambinos in the jog stroller before, with mixed results. Usually the little ones love it, although they tend to toss socks, books, or whatever other objects they’ve brought with them overboard, which can slow things down. But I could never do it in a marathon — at my pace, they would need to stop for too many meals and diaper changes along the way! Of course, my bigger problem is that I’m a mechanical moron, so I am only able to use the jog stroller until the tires go flat, the alignment goes askew, and the brake goes kaput. Then I’m without wheels until I can find someone smart enough to fix it for me.

So Messrs. Freudenburg and Wardian have left me utterly humbled and impressed. Great to see folks making a family event out of running.

I sometimes take my older ones along on their scooters, which is fun, but they can’t go too far. And I long for the day when one or more of my children might be able and inclined to run along beside me. But till then, I’m eager for any other suggestions as to how to include the little ones in the running regimen. If you’ve got any suggestions or anecdotes, please send them along!

 

(H/T Running Is Funny)

Are You John or Peter?

I recently came across this painting, and hereby proclaim it the Official Artwork of Running Catholic: Eugene Bernard's "Peter and John Running to the Tomb" (1898). The scene calls to mind John 20:3-4: "Peter then came out with the other disciple, and they went toward the tomb. They both ran, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first."

I love the expression of concerned devotion on St. John's face and the look of utter awe and amazement on St. Peter's. It's as though St. John, although the more swift of foot, is a step behind St. Peter spiritually. St. John is worried that someone has absconded with Jesus' body. St. Peter, on the other hand, is already putting the meaning of these mysterious events together. Can it really be?

Which would help explain why it was St. Peter to whom Christ entrusted His church. Peter may not have been as strong, as nimble, or as fast as the others, and he made plenty of mistakes. (Even here, he is running to the spot where Our Lord isn't.) But He has been given a special grace."Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the powers of death shall not prevail against it" (Matt. 16:17-18).

On my runs I often feel like St. Peter — not as speedy, toned, or young as the St. Johns out there, always a step behind. But that ought not be a cause for concern. God can do great things through both the Peters and the Johns of this world. To the one He entrusted His church; to the other, His most holy mother (Jn. 19:27). Both now dine with Him at the Heavenly Banquet.

What matters is not so much the gifts we have been given, but how faithfully we put them to use.

The Mags and the Fam

Some time a while back, when I was signing up for a race, I was offered a “free” subscription to various running magazines. All you had to do was cancel within six months, or something like that, and it wouldn’t cost you a penny. So I signed up, and I even went through the motions of canceling within the allotted time. But somehow, whenever I tried to cancel, the magazines would sweeten the pot. They kept offering to give me more issues for free, and so I kept continuing to take them.

And I’m glad I did. I like the running magazines. True, you can only read “10 New Stretches” or “The Top 25 Half Marathons” so many times, but there’s a lot of good stuff in their pages. I just read, for example, a very helpful Runner's World piece about tapering. These mags run good stories about some of the biggest challenges facing a runner: preventing injuries, training , staying strong and motivated .

But there’s one idea that screams out from every issue: These. People. Don’t. Have. Families.

Again and again, the issues talk about ways to improve your strength, PRs, etc. — all assuming that you have infinite time to work on your conditioning. Sometimes they will allow for the possibility that you have a job, and they’ll suggest clever ways to fit in workouts around your office schedule. But, save for the occasional token image of a jog stroller, there seems little thought given to the idea that, just maybe, there are people at home who care more about having you around than whether you’re stretching for 40 minutes before and after every run.

A case in point: this excerpt from the “Editor’s Letter” in the November issue of RW:

I normally don’t make much time for “the other stuff.” But now I get massage therapy every couple of weeks — once a week if my balky hamstring needs it — and ride 30 miles on my road bike. And I’m maniacal about “prehab,” the injury-prevention and cross-training routines that keep you from getting hurt in the first place. I sit in a cold stream or lake after long runs … Every week, I get to at least one yoga class and spend more than an hour on core strength and flexibility.

Wow! I find it hard enough to get in my four runs a week. I can’t even begin to imagine all the cross-training, yoga, and sitting around in cold rivers that the magazines prescribe. I’ve got a six-year old itching to play me in Uno, a five-year old who wants to toss the pigskin in the backyard, a three-year-old asking me to read him a story, and a one-year-old who always wants to be held. I’ve also got a wife who cares to see me every once in a while — and who also likes a little help with the aforementioned youngins’. (Oh yes, I’ve got a job, too.)

I don’t fault the magazine folks. They know who their readers are: diehard runners, and generally the only people who can be diehard about anything are the ones who aren’t distracted by everything else. (Or, maybe the magazine types have such a handle on their personal lives that they have no problem making time for elaborate exercise regimens. For all I know, they are simply more disciplined and thus better equipped to juggle life than I am. They’re probably winning “Parent of the Year” awards alongside their road races.)

Which is great for them, but not necessarily realistic for the rest of us. For me, anyway, the running magazines are a little bit like an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie: fun, entertaining, but bearing little resemblance to the reality I inhabit.

I love running, but I’ve got a vocation to tend to. The challenge is balancing the one with the other — and that’s the one challenge the magazines do little to address.