Showing posts from March, 2010

Blisters (June 8th excerpt from "Pace Yourself: 366 Devotions from the Daily Grind," set to be released in mid-May

(Originally written June 8, 2008) Blisters. They create an incredible amount of pain per square millimeter. I’ve had plenty of agonizing friction wounds that at the time, seemed to surpass the pain of childbirth. Even the smallest of blisters can distract to the point of being oblivious to everything else. Just ask Seth. For some unfathomable reason, Seth and a couple of his buddies decided to run barefoot on scorching hot tennis courts prior to their soccer game today. Why? I have no earthly idea. For Seth, however, the fun was short-lived as the tender skin on the balls of his feet disconnected with the tissue beneath, producing half dollar-sized blisters. He realized the consequences of his gleeful jaunt as soon as he donned his soccer cleats and took to the field. Eventually, several hundred milligrams of ibuprofen dulled the pain enough to allow him to score a hat-trick in the second half. But now, he is dealing with the reality of the situation. He and a buddy have a hikin

Springing into shape. . .I think

Sunglasses on and ponytail swinging, the muted sound of each footfall registered briefly in my mind. The sound was a rhythmic, light pitter-patter, not heavy and plodding. I liked to hear the gravel crunching under my feet, a testament to progress. But soon my attention turned to my breathing. I was in the midst of a steep hill and still running. Running and breathing at the same time, mind you. Not the gasping for air kind of breathing but the kind that responds as it should to increased demand. That, my friend, seldom happens. Topping the hill, I started down the incline. My legs, though not accustomed to such turn over, responded. I felt like a runner again, strong and swift. By the time I arrived back at the house, the big hand on the kitchen clock confirmed I had run well. It felt so good. I hoped it wasn't a fluke. Back at the ranch-or actually, the YMCA-the line at the bottom of the pool has been a good companion. A while back, the only comforting thing about that line

Caught in the act. . .almost

The tinny little beeps from my watch awakened me well before I was ready to get up. But get up I did. It was Tuesday morning and I had an appointment with a sadistic fitness leader and her 5:45 a.m. core class. In some odd way, I looked forward to it. I jumped into the clothes I laid out the night before (can't rely on my brain that early in the morning) and quiet as a mouse, tiptoed into the kitchen to find some breakfast. Turns out, I really didn't have to be that quiet. As I went to open the cereal cupboard, I heard a raucous from within. It sounded like a herd, gaggle, yea, even a pack of wild mice having a heyday. I heard them on the top shelf, then the second, crinkling the bag of a cereal package. Since my presence didn't seem to bother them, I decided to look elsewhere for breakfast. Note to self: break out the mouse traps when I return from my workout. Upon returning and with disinfectant in hand, I warily opened the doors to undertake the inevitable and necess