I recently came accross this group right here in my hometown and I am very excited to be their newest member. For months I've been searching and praying for a way to tie my faith in with my running, and I'm convinced this is a way God has answered that prayer. The following is the FCA Endurance Creed, and I think its perfect!

I am a Christian first and last.
I am created in the likeness of
God Almighty to bring Him glory.
I am a member of Team Jesus Christ.
I wear the colors of the cross

I am a Competitor now and forever.
I am made to strive, to strain,
to stretch and to succeed
in the arena of competition.
I am a Christian Competitor
and as such, I face my challenger
with the face of Christ.

I do not trust in myself.
I do not boast in my abilities
or believe in my own strength.
I rely solely on the power of God.
I compete for the pleasure of
my Heavenly Father, the honor of Christ
and the reputation of the Holy Spirit.





My attitude on and off
the field is above reproach-
my conduct beyond criticism.
Whether I am preparing,
practicing or playing;
I submit to God’s authority
and those He has put over me.
I respect my coaches, officials,
teammates and competitors
out of respect for the Lord.


My body is the temple of Jesus Christ.
I protect it from within and without.
Nothing enters my body that
does not honor the Living God.
My sweat is an offering to my Master.
My soreness is a sacrifice to my Savior.


I give my all – all of the time.
I do not give up. I do not give in.
I do not give out. I am the Lord’s warrior –
a competitor by conviction
and a disciple of determination.
I am confident beyond reason
because my confidence lies in Christ.
The results of my efforts
must result in His glory.


LET THE COMPETITION BEGIN.
LET THE GLORY BE GOD’S.

the 'g' is silent

Are you familiar with the tiny itty bitty insect who's nearly invisible body can pimple one's skin with itchy annoying bumps approximately 10 times its size? They are called gnats. The 'g' is silent. It doesn't matter how you pronounce the little buggers name, they rival a misquito anyday, their bites 10x's as itchy and longer lasting.

Maybe you've heard of them, but you've never experienced them 8 miles into a hot humid run, where they gang up en masse, a wall of insects you won't likely see until its too late and burst through (wiki tells me these masses are called "ghosts" and are formed by the males in large "mating swarms"). Now there are dozens glued with persperation to your face, and you are being stared down by passerby's as you spit and flail your arms about.

But you dare not stop running.

Oh no.

You wipe the sweaty back of your hand accross your equally sweaty forehead, it feels like grit but you know better, you now rub the sweaty, gritty back of your hand on your shorts, and attempt at steadying your pace. You finally get your focus back and settle back into your cadence and whack! Another wall.

Fool.

Should have learned the first time to keep your mouth shut.

More spitting and flailing and wiping and struggling. By now you've been pricked by the blood-thirsty carnivores and are peppered by its bites. You begin the phantom paranoia that they are everywhere and after you like a giant swarm of bees. All notions of your pleasant run have vanished and only one promising thought lingers.

A strong finish.

With all your energy expended on spitting and flailing and wiping and struggling and the occassional burst of grunting frustration, you attempt to sprint to the heavenly oasis that is your finish, but those last few miles have supernaturally morphed into slow motion. You swear that last one was more like three.... and a half.

Finally, you stumble to the car, throw yourself in, and lock the door- just incase. laughing maniacally from the inside of your sanctuary, you can't see them, but you know they are there. and you have won this battle, but the war will wage on.

gnats.

No, never heard of them?? Oh, well, just so you know, the 'g' is silent. :}

Keeping It In The Family

My daughters love that I run. They get that its 'my thing' and they are so supportive. They cheer me on at races, ran a few of their own (and placed), and have even been known to slip a little "mommy, do you need to run?" when they see me get stressed out. They also plead with me to take them on my runs, and a few times I have.
My middle child, however, has decided that this business of running isn't just "mama's thing" but her "thing" too. Jordan was the first to run a kiddie run (Shamrock Run '08) and at 5 years old, you couldn't convince her she hadn't won the race, despite the fact that everyone else ALSO got medals. Her second "career race" a month later at the Sand Gnats Trot found her in 2nd place (to be fair, it was a very small kiddie race). In fact, I think her interest sparked way before that when she went to preschool and as I was picking her up one day while they were playing outside, I called out to her, and instead of cutting straight accross the playground to me, Jordan decided to sprint the perimeter and I watched in amazement as her little legs kicked faster than I thought was possible. I told her as much and like any small child, she ate up the affirmation and beamed with pride. The races that have followed have just cemented her love for running.
In truth, she's got a quirky stride, and although she's about as petite as they come (she's our very own Gidget), she's 90% legs. But as I've always said, what she lacks in size, she makes up for in heart and character.
Take today for example. Today we were checking out Jordan Hasay online. Like my Jordan, Hasay is petite, bright blonde, and determined. She was voted athlete of the year by Sports Illustrated and holds several junior titles in the 1500m. My Jordan was entranced. Before long she'd disappeared and reappeared in front of me with her running gear on. How could I resist? "Ok, lets go." I knew what she wanted, grabbed my stop watch, and headed out the front door. Jordan took her mark at the very end of the street, I yelled "go" and the girl was off to sprint the length of the road and back (total about .3 miles). Then big sis had changed and was out for her turn. McKenzie's only 18 mos older than Jordan, but with a more average build, and quite the overachiever. Jordan's used to it however, and when Kenz beat her time, Jordan was up for another shot at it. Her second round brought her in a full 6 seconds faster than her first, still behind her sis, but here's the kicker- before the halfway point Jordan lost her shoe. She didn't stop though! The girl kept going and sprinted the full way back with only one shoe on!!! I'm still laughing just thinking about it!
So, Jordan has found her first athletic hero (don't worry, I did make a point to mention that Hasay was also valedvictorian of her high school class!), and I'm guessing it won't be long before I have to start sharing my Runner's World subscription. :)

Unexpected Answer to Prayer

Perhaps you aren't the "praying type."

Perhaps you didn't know you can have a relationship with God.

Perhaps you do and you did, but its hard to wrap your head around the fact that He cares about all the details of your life, even the ones that you think fall short of "worthy of God's time."

I struggle sometimes with that last one. Sure I pray over and for the small stuff, but I tend to forget God in the dailiness of life once in awhile.

More than once, He has reminded me He indeed cares and in fact delights in me.

This morning was one of those times.

The past few weeks I've had some dull knee pain, some hints of shin spints both growing more and more prevalent with every run. Glance at my training log and you'll see the culprit. Its time for new shoes. 400+ miles in my Mizunos and they are ready. My last pair I wore to threads to the point when I brought them into Fleet Feet to trade up, the salesman (whom I know) insisted I never put the old ones on again "not another step in those!"

New shoes. I drool at the thought. I've worked hard in my running, building up consistency. I'm 3 weeks into training for my first half marathon, and 5 mos. from my first full, both registered. I'm on a roll. A talk with the hubs and he confirms what I feared. "$100 shoes are not in the budget right now." We are scrambling to save for a trip to Maine for my SIL's wedding, me and my three daughters are all in it so its not exactly a trip we put off.
Last night we sat talking, "I can't take one more run in them, I can't risk an injury if I push too far, and not be able to run for who knows how long." I tell him as I knead the outside of my throbbing knee. "I don't know what to tell you Jes." "I know, I know, I just have to drop the running." just saying it outloud I feel the slightest threat of tears. That night I lay in bed praying. See, I'm not fast, or strong, by anyones standards, but running is no less a passion. And for months now, I've felt like I should be using this passion to glorify God, even though it completely escapes me how to do this. A 8mm pace doesn't quite have the same impact as say Ryan Hall's. But the pull towards this is unmistakeable. I can completely relate to Eric Liddell in Chariots of Fire when he says, "When I run I feel His pleasure." Still, like everything else, I must leave it up to God. "If You really want this for me, then You'll have to provide the way, cuz I have no clue what to do next. And if you don't want this for me, then I'll just have to be ok with that too."

Then there was evening, and then there was morning, the next day. LOL. I get up, and check my email, and RIGHT THERE on the top is a message from pebaxpowered.com "Congratulations, you are the winner of a pair of Mizuno Wave Rider 12 running shoes." HA! Cool, right? Some sweepstakes I haphazardly entered in months ago and promptly forgot about. I think I clicked on some ad here on RW. Please know I am not exaggerating when I tell you I have NEVER won a stinkin' thing in my entire 27 years. I don't even know why I enter.

:) Now, some might call it all coincidence, and I sincerely hope you don't take this as any sort of negative way when I say "but I know better." Answers from God aren't always that obvious, nor do they seem to come that fast most of the time, nor are they always answered the way I want, but its happened often enough to squelch any doubt. And even those NOT answered how I'd like, are ALWAYS proved to be for the best.

Rough Week 6/21/09

The pic above is the rails to trails along the river headed to Tybee beach, taken last sunday.

It seems as though my weeks are patterned, for every awesome, solid 7 days i have of running, follows 7 lame snarky days. such was the past two weeks. this one, being the first official week of training for my upcoming 1/2 marathon debut in september, meant that each day NOT running, and each MISERABLE day of finally getting out there, left twice as many bruises.

It didn't start out too bad, Tuesday's 4 miles, taken late-ish at night, went down to be my fastest non-racing time to date. i enjoyed the break from the sun, and felt like a caged bird set free to soar on wings like eagles! then fear took over, and this bird dropped like a rock. tempo run set for thursday (wed. was a non-run day) and promptly ignored. i can't even remember what my excuse was. all i know is that in truth, i'm just chicken when it comes to pushing my comfort zone and inviting pain to come in and visit for awhile. sigh. its a fear i'm determined to conquer........... some other time. no, really, i'll just keep picking myself off the ground, dust off, and try again until something snaps and it finally sticks.

so, putting off thursday's workout rippled into putting off friday's workout (unless a few laps and some lazy drifting at the pool counts as cross-training) and suddenly it was saturday and i had a whopping 4 miles logged for the week!!!! so, sat. was scheduled to be another day off before my sunday long run, but i headed out 11am or so for some quick miles to comfort my bruised ego. at this time, it happened to be 103 degrees with the heat index, the air was thick, and my stubborn pride kept me from even thinking to take some water. 4 miles later i was sprawled on my tile floor trying to keep from passing out. the day was spent recovering.

so the big sunday long run was set for today. the plan was to get there at 6am but a late night at a friend's house resulted in a few too many snooze smashes, and i stumbled out of the house a half an hour late, trekked the 30 minutes to the Rails to Trails, having packed EVERYTHING i could possible need (SOOOO glad I remembered a towel this time!) even remembered to freeze some water bottles for the fuel belt and toss them into the cooler with my sigg bottle. of course, i wound up chickening out on that too (i always feel weird w/ the fuel belt- like admitting i'm weak and can't handle it, even thought the truth is, i'm weak and i can't handle it, as was proved today- its also why i've NEVER taken water or anything on a long run, not Gu or any sugaraids) i set out and the first 3 miles aren't too bad. i was bummed to have to stop a few times and do some fancy footwork to get through parts of the path that had completely erroded. Its so good that there's not too much traffic- cuz even the idea of a single fiddler crab running accross my foot had me mimicking some african tribal dances while crossing logs and planks.

But i got to my first turn around and let myself catch my breath, take in the local shrine that i get SUCH a kick out of take off again just as the 'squitos caught whiff of me (insert more african tribal dancing)i headed back..... the last three miles tho- staring into the rising, beastly sun was agony. I can honestly say, to the best of my memory, I have NEVER sweated so much in my LIFE! It was just pouring down my face and arms in giant drops leaving puddle trails behind me, the salt seeping into my eyes stinging them so all i could do was squint, as I staggered back to my starting point.

Once there, I ripped open the car door and barbarically lunged for my fuel belt water bottles from the cooler- which were in an ironic twist- still frozen, guzzled down the contents of my sigg bottle, and debated finishing up the remaining four. sigh. a glance at my phone told me i could probably swing it, then high-tail it back home to get ready to go to church (started volunteering in the elementary area again- so i had to be there early) or i could leave now and NOT be late for once. even now i hang my head in shame because even though i know i chose the better option, I have NEVER cut a run short like that.

Well, the twist to the story is that for every 7 days of lame snarky running (or lack of), sits another 7 awesome solid ones on the horizon. The good news is that because my run wasn't as taxing on my body, muscle-wise, as usual, I will have no problem, muscle-wise, in heading out for a few make-up miles tomorrow, which is another scheduled day off.

Thinking of all the junk I packed along this morning, for humor's sake, here's a recap. Heading out the door, I felt as though i was packed for a weekend, not just a few hours of running...
*first and foremost, the mighty Mizunos
*second, and in my opinion, nearly as important, the iPod
*uniform- the obligatory singlet and tempo shorts (i collect nike tempo shorts like most women collect shoes, lol)
*Nike+ sensors, armband
*hat and sunblock (yeah, right, like that helped!)
*fuel belt and frozen bricks of water bottles, packed in cooler
*towel for wipe down and to protect the leather
*water bottle
*gu or energy bars if your smart (mine stayed safe in the pantry at home)
*camera just incase (i wish mine was more portable, but it pretty much stays in the car, too)
*money for post-run sugary drink (after downing all the water- i prefer nesquick) on the way home (coupled with dozens of staring eyes no doubt wondering if i'm about to keel over at any moment)
*and the berry, which serves no real purpose sense i don't take that on the run either, but it did serve to deliver the time today, so not completely void of use, and then, could have potentially served to call an ambulance should the sun turn up its heat even a half degree more!
Quite an armload!

Happy Feet 6/9/09

my feet aren't "happy" they are cramped up in my shoes and kinda numb as if i'd been pounding them over and over again on a hard surface.

my legs aren't "happy" they are sore, worn, and give notion to the idea of buckling out from under me at any given moment as i cool down.

my glutius is quite the opposite of "happy" as sunday's 10 miles still haunts it even though we've done this same run countless times, it never fails to be "shocked" each and everytime, as if it didn't see it coming (given its bodily position, i suppose it might not have-always the last to know).

my mind. my heart. my spirit. they are, in contrast..... O SO HAPPY! I LOVE RUNNING :) :) :)

Summer Sorrows 6/2/09

if you were to peruse my training mile you would see a sincere yet inconsistent attempt towards 30 miles a week. for many of you thats nothing, but its been this magic number for me for months. each time i get close, i get derailed. mostly by the ever-lurking "bursitis," sometimes by illness or that week-long monsoon we had last month, but now summer in savannah is in full swing. whether i run at 3pm or 3am, i'm destined for a sweat-soaked humidity-drenched experience. pushing my 4 year old in the jogging stroller adds to it, she's not so eager for our outings anymore either.

so, even though my first half marathon is on the horizon (sept. 6th), i am letting go of my magic number in lieu of being able to keep a consistant base. today, nursing a pulled muscle in my glutius, i got off the bench and set out, determined to only go 3-ish miles, my shortest run in about 2 months, and IT FELT GREAT! it was over so quickly, and my mood was much more delightful than it has been in too long while on a run. since when did i start believing one needs to put in atleast 5-6 miles a day to qualify for a real workout anyways?! ach, even typing that, a little voice in my head is arguing, "yeah, but...."

tomorrow i'm taking it a step further. i've started praying on my runs for my neighborhood, for the people i pass, the houses, the school, etc. Lily and I are baking cookies and bagging them with a little note for each one, and tomorrow we will pass them out to those we see while on our run, in hopes to bless their day and let them know they are being prayed for. This means running and stopping. I cringe at the thought. My stubborn thinking has always said "if you have to stop for any reason, whether to walk or whatever, the run is ruined." i know, i have issues.