Day 1

-

January 1, 2012

It wasn’t much but it was something. Good thing something was enough.

I have never been a streak runner. That’s not to say I haven’t been impressed, even amazed, by long-term running. I’ve always been a believer in rest days—and have needed them. But some time in the last twenty-four hours, I have this strange urge to take it on.

On this first day of the year, I occupied myself with cleaning, purging and organizing while I kept one eye on the TV. “Radio” was on, an inspiring true story about James Robert Kennedy, a developmentally challenged young man. The caring football coach of Hanna High took Radio, as he was known given his passion for radios, under his wing. Perhaps it was metamorphosis, compassion, the pure joy of sport, the honest pursuit of purpose and perseverance that made me consider this task.

I’ve been asked about my running goals for 2012. I’ve considered many things but none seemed quite right. Hence, I’ve had no answer. Until now.

I’m in dire need of purpose. I yearn for something to keep me honest and moving in the right direction. My rule will be at least a mile a day. No excuses. No regrets.

Will the world become new if I remain true? Hardly. In fact, few will care. But I care. I care to commit once again because I know it’s good for me. In 2008, I decided to journey my devotional thoughts every day of 2008. The reality became the hardest thing I have ever done. But it was also the most rewarding in terms of maturity, spiritual insight, and appreciation of each day’s gifts, challenges and difficulties.

I suspect there will be major obstacles in my quest. I will be tired, there will be a cold, driving rain, I might be sick or injured, it could be scorching hot. But I also know I will have time to think, contemplate, pray. I know sometimes I will want to go blank. I know I will feel better in the end. I will feel accomplished. Even if I run a mere mile, I will have run. I will have won.

So, it started this afternoon. Having run long in the mountains on a hurting knee yesterday, my run was a piddley mile and a half right as it was starting to blow and rain. In this Leap Year, I have only 365 days to go. 

Run silent. Run deep. Run long. Run strong. . .One day at a time.

Stay tuned for daily blog postings.

Comments

Rick Gray said…
Just as you did four years ago when you began your daily writing of "Pace Yourself", take one day at a time and continue to move forward. In many ways this is different than any of your long races, but at the same time it is the same. A different kind of pain, different frustrations, but the end result is the same - to succeed. A dear friend of mine wrote these words and they apply here - "May we always remember to run long, run strong... one day at a time".
January 2, 2012 at 8:04 AM
Rebekah Trittipoe said…
True :)

I love my "rest" days so even though a mile seems so little (perhaps just 8-10 min), I know it will still be hard at times.

This is something I have never done so I figured I would give it a try.
January 2, 2012 at 9:27 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

When good results disappoint

-
Image
"If you don't find something you can fix, I will be greatly disappointed," I stated matter-of-factly to my cardiologist. And I was serious. Dead serious. I was laying in my hospital bed waiting to be wheeled into the cath lab to get a clear picture of what was happening--or not happening--inside those skinny little coronary arteries. If he did not find something to stent, like he did five years ago, my symptoms would have no chance of being validated. I will spare you all the details, but my running has really taken a dive over the last few months. The group of women I run with can be chatting it up having a great time, only to unintentionally pull away and leave me eating their dust. I try to keep up but it's like my engine is throttled back by a governor, heart rate zooming upwards to no avail. I simply can't go. I feel my chest tighten and throat close. I have to walk. I hate being the anchor. Lately, I make excuses to why I can not join them on those long Satu...
Read more

666 miles of Hell(gate)

-
Image
"Last verse, same as the first." In same ways, yes. My last race was the same as my first: I started. I finished. But in many ways, there's no comparison. It took ten finishes and 666 miles  of the devilish Hellgate 100K race to figure it out. The brainchild of Dr. David Horton, the Hellgate 100k+ (actually 66.6 miles) always begins at one minute after midnight on the second Saturday of December. The race has garnered a near cult-following, many hopeful entrants turned away. Those rewarded a cherished spot must earn Horton's approval as a worthy candidate. It is he who judges an applicant's toughness and ability to cover the rocky, mountainous real estate between the start and finish lines. But even so, the chosen few are never guaranteed a finish. What they are promised is a night and a day of unpredictable weather, trail conditions, and a barrage of self-doubt somewhere along the forest path. I was forty-five when I sold my soul to the trail devils. N...
Read more

Time marches on

-
Image
Photo by Seth Trittipoe ( 614 Studio ) There he was. Sitting amidst his belongings accumulated over a life time, apparently unfazed by the chaos around him. On this day he was insistent on returning to his home after moving into ours. We were concerned it would be too difficult since the goal was to empty his house and sell what we could. Some of us arrived on Friday and began the lengthy process of sorting, moving, organizing, but mostly discarding. Nevertheless, on Saturday morning he got in the car with my husband, Gary, and made four hour trip. Upon arrival, a kind neighbor escorted him to his house across the street, offering ice cream and car shows on TV as motivation to visit. But after some time, my father-in-law tootled back across the street, anxious to see what was going on. We watched anxiously as he made his way to the already-packed dumpster to view the contents. Would he pull that old, stained coat back out? Would he fuss about the broken-up bookshelf that had to...
Read more