Backstretches

As any of my former track coaches could attest to, the longer distance races were not my specialty. My high school coach often joked that he would need to pull out a calendar to time my quarter mile. As I progressed to the 800m “dash” in college, I did so with trepidation because it hurt. Whether I ran it in 3:03 or 2:23, the pain always met me along the way. The fear subsided as I grew in confidence that a) I wouldn’t die. b) I could improve each time. c) I only had to run it 2-3 times a year. d) The 800 is way easier than the 400. (It’s not logical and highly disputed by those who run the shorter race, but let them enjoy pools of lactic acid in their butts.)

There is one stretch of the 800 that required a certain amount of extra focus, desire, and guts. At the 500 mark, with just 300 to go, one is faced with a seemingly endless straight backstretch. Due to track construction methods, this stretch is often into the wind and lacking any sort of stadium area for cheering. It is here that one realizes how much more is left. It’s as if the 800 has started over. For me, a curve girl, the straight track simply felt like a desert without an oasis. But of course, once I made it to the corner, I had but 175 meters to go and an end literally in sight.

Why bring up this now, you might ask? A valid question especially since I’m no longer training for such short races but instead want to tackle 26.2 miles. A marathon is just slow, endless and somehow thrilling in its own insane way, but not a proper analogy at this point in time. No, the 800 race reminds me of my current life.

Mac and I have worked out a system so that we’re both as productive as possible (he is succeeding way more than I am) and still attentive to each other despite living in different cities. Every other weekend we visit each other, enjoy a nice dinner or go to a show, and catch up on SEEING each other as we share stories and make plans.

Well, as I’ve come to notice, this is like running an 800 with that middle weekend posing as the looming backstretch. The two weeks fly by when we’re both busy, running the curves I might say, and living for the moment. But the lactic acid build-up and long straight stretch always greet me on the weekend. I know that I’m half way there, but tell that to my heart. Finally on Sunday night, I realize how close we are to reuniting. I’ve hit the curve, see the end in sight, and can’t wait to collapse into his arms.

Like the 800 races I ran, I know I will survive these relationship races. I find way too much joy in a heptathlon and in Mac to let this one little portion of the event keep me down. So instead of looking at my calendar to cross off the days, I’m going to hit the gym and my knees in prayer so the backstretches become a strong part of my race.

Old Wisdom, New Ears

Today began the first of four mornings committed to “making athletes out of you.” We’re hosting the 2nd annual track camp at Whitworth. The high school students and coaches alike are relatively new to the Whitworth program and staff, and they’re in for a treat. Toby is funny- at least to the newbies (I was one of them once)- Travis is organized, the throws coaches are huge, and I’m just cute. I mean completely able and competent.
So we started the session with a few house keeping rules (ie “The bathrooms are to your right.”). Then Toby sought initial commitment by telling the athletes to close their eyes and asking them why they came. “Why did you show up and what do you want to take away?” These questions aren’t trick ones and they can be answered fairly simply. But these questions require the athletes to do more than show up. These questions require intentional investment.

Hold that thought…

Following the pep talk, I led the group of over 30 kids through a warm-up. For some, the warm-up might have been a good enough workout for the day but we carried on. I told them to keep their knees up, stay tall and encouraged them with the fact that anything they could do backwards they could do forwards. (Try it sometime.) We even did a set of Happy Jacks so round out the warm-up. Perhaps they weren’t the most applicable, but smiles are just as important to good performance as loose muscles.
Throughout my 30 minutes with the athletes and the following hour with my hurdle crew of 4, there were athletes who just took for granted that they could stand up straight and run much less “play track and field.” And yet, I cheered and critiqued them both in my head and verbally. First days set the stage.

We ended the morning with lots of abs. Lots = 8 minutes. Try it, 8 minutes is a long time. And then Toby gathered us all again to ask, “What did you learn? What will you take away? Now go write it down.”

It dawned on me that the attitudes we bring to life each day we wake up breathing another blessed breath should be checked by this question: What do you want to learn? What are you going to be intentional about? What are you going to take away? It’s easy to go through the motions, bring your knees up only so high, say your prayers only until you fall asleep, love your kids enough to keep them from crying. But we’re told to strive for perfection and commit. We’re told to love God with ALL our heart, strength and mind. We’re offered a choice to go big everyday. However, this choice does not come with an autopilot. Making a choice to love or pray or eat right or do great work requires an intentional investment. Some things we need to do with some automation such as breathing, but we can be intentional about deep breathing for relaxation or breathing hard during a work out.

So why did you show up today? What did you learn? How have you been intentional in your relationships, work, mind and soul?