The Treasure

Take that, Coronado! Ponce de Leon, you got nothin' on me!!! Forget the fountain of youth and the city of gold. I have something worth way more than their treasures, and longer lasting. I have an amazing God. A God who does not give us unreachable dreams, empty hopes, or wild goose chases. He does not ask us to find some amazing discovery to be remember in eternity. He sent His Son to be the most amazing treasure the world has ever known. To be remembering, all we have to do is choose to follow Him.

On May 7, I was reminded again of just how incredible He is. That morning I got up at 4:45 am. (Yep, that's in the morning!) My dear, long-suffering husband even slept in Landon's room so that I would have the best night's sleep possible. Also, my alarm not waking him up might have played sightly into the situation... I downed 2 Aleve, a potassium/calcium tablet, and choked down a protein bar for breakfast while I unsuccessfully tried to drink a G3. (Grabbed by accident instead of a G2. Do NOT make this same mistake! Ever. Nasty. Still shudder when I think about it.) I vaselined every skin surface that I remotely thought might rub against other skin, fabric, headphone wires, etc. Pinned my bib on my T-shirt and made certain to grab the medicine kit as well as my iPhone, armband, and headphones. Necessities, you know!

I met the other ladies and climbed into the back seat of the vehicle we were carpooling in. Massaging and taping the sudden shin-splints of one of my friends helped relieve my nervousness, but I couldn't get out of the back of my mind what I was about to try to accomplish. The closer the car came to Indianapolis, the faster my butterflies flew until I was glad that I was unable to finish the entire power bar. A gargantuan task of 13.1 miles loomed ahead of me. We parked the cars and split up with our partners to head to the corrals. And suddenly it happened, my nervousness melted away into excitement. The old feeling I used to get before a volleyball game reappeared. With the help of my friends I had trained and felt ready.

That wonderful feeling lasted until about mile 8. My combination of walking and running had worked pretty well and my partner and I had been keeping a decently steady pace of 13-minute miles. Then came the Brickyard. The race brochures makes sure to emphasize that runners get to race on the actual track that the Indianapolis is run on. True. How historical it is. True. How it's wonderful and the highlight of the race. FALSE!!! They lie like dogs!!! It was dreadful. Now I know why humans run on a 400m track, because 2 1/2 miles is way too long. I kept running and running and felt like I wasn't getting anywhere. Also, due to the bowl shape, there is no breeze whatsoever. The only good part was the 12 or so high-school cheerleading teams dressed up in different themes supporting the runners. The worst part was that I lost my partner somewhere between miles 6 and 8. Alone in a crowd of 30,000. After exiting the track, the next mile marker seemed like it never came. I didn't want to give up, but I was having a hard time starting to run after every walk. So I prayed. My prayer wasn't to finish in under 3 hours, I'd stopped caring so much about that. First, I thanked Him for this opportunity and the chance to push myself, thanking Him for my friends that were with me somewhere on the course. I thanked Him for helping me make the journey to start towards a healthier lifestyle and the chance to teach my children about the principle of stewardship. I even thanked Him for the cheering strangers on the sideline that came out in the rain. The crowd, by the way, was amazing. Then my prayers moved on into claiming promises, for I know He keeps His. Like crazy I asked for the strength to finish what He had asked me to start. He kept my legs moving and I was able to run the last mile. 3:11. This is literally the longest that I have ever run. For that matter, it's the longest I've ever run without a rest break!!!

People that overly-spiritualize things drive me crazy. I mean, really, dinner mints with praying hands on them aren't any better than those that you buy at Kroger. It certainly doesn't make your candy any healthier! But this journey was way more than physical, it was a spiritual, faith-building, bruising, and uplifting journey. Along the way I rediscovered that the God that I serve sometimes uses physical illustrations for spiritual purposes. I learned that, with His strength, I can do so much more than I think I can. With Him, I can silence the voices that run inside my head, seeking to distract me. With Him, I can keep on trucking long after the point where I would have quit. And a bonus: once upon a time there was an extremely competitive blond girl who never gave up and attacked problems. Somewhere in the University of Real Life her drive and determination got shifted from sports to academics and career and family, and she started using the deadly phrase, "I can't." Worst was the fact that she felt that getting in shape again and taking care of herself was hopeless. At the end of the race I found myself planning for next year's race and setting a goal time. 2:45. There, I've said it out loud. Then I found myself on the internet researching others to run. It was then that I realized that the competitive blond girl was back, more mature, darker hair, and happier than ever to be running. God restores. He's amazing. He's my treasure.

Solutions for narrow heels

Runners know the importance of a well-fitting shoe. In preparing for the mini I was excited when my crazy running friend, Zest, scheduled a trip to the store with the salesman she's worked with for the past eight years. I have terrible ankles and one not-so-great knee so I was hoping that he could help me find the right fit.
In the store I was debating between two final selections. Pair A fit great with the exception that the heel was a little bit loose. Pair B was tight across my instep and toes, but the heel stayed in place. A common shoe dilemma for me since my midfoot is wide but my heel is narrow. My wonderful and knowledgeable salesman solved the issue. This specific lacing pattern basically pulls the back of the shoe forward so that the heel doesn't slip and the shoe is tight without the lace cutting into the top of your foot. It sounds confusing the first time but is actually quite simple and comfortable while wearing. I'm grateful he shared this little tip with me.

1. Lace up shoes while leaving the top hole open.


2. Take the lace and thread it through the hole in top on the same side so that it forms a loop.


3. Now cross the end of the lace through the contralateral loop. (The lace from the right goes through the loop on the left.)


4. Repeat with the opposite side


5. Tie normally.


Pair A. My first pair of Brooks. Cinderella size 7, and definitely not leaving them behind!

From here to the Mini

Several months ago one at a get-together, one of my friends was talking about the mini marathon that she runs every year. (I'll call her Zest since she is enthusiastic about everything she does and has more energy than any woman over the age of 3 has a right to.) Apparently it's her goal to introduce a new runner to the mini each time. Also apparent is that my friends are way too healthy because several of them chimed in about their past experiences running the race. I must be insane because I started getting excited as they talked about it. (really need to look into getting that "sucker" tattoo removed from my forehead...) I don't know why, but the thought of running 13 miles and spending months training for a race that I have no possibility of winning sounded like a good idea, so I agreed to run with them. And no, my glass was filled with iced tea, not alcohol. That night found me on the laptop registering before I could change my mind. Now that I'm financially committed I cannot back out!

And now it's time to actually train. Running shoes have been fitted and purchased. Tunes have been loaded onto the iphone and earbuds located. The thought of running for almost three solid hours still scares this sprinter. Truly, the longest race I ever ran in my younger and in-shape days was the 400m dash. My main sports were basketball and volleyball, again filled with sprinting. This will be a new experience that I am somewhat looking forward to. Mainly I'm looking forward to the challenge. I've stopped pushing myself physically. When I work out I tend to stop at the point of pain and listen to the "I can't" voice inside my head. Running the mini I must learn to put a chokehold on that insipid voice.

In addition to running because of the challenge, I'm running because of the way I've been treating myself. Excuses and laziness have led the way to me becoming horribly out of shape. This is not the example that I need to be setting for my children. It is certainly not being a good steward of the body that God has given me. I haven't had the discipline that I need in either my spiritual or spiritual life. In my role of physical therapy, I see the results every day of people who have neglected their bodies. There is no pill the doctor can prescribe to combat overeating and disuse. I constantly find myself telling my patients that it's not too late to start moving and they can improve their own lives but they have to take that responsibility. So do I.

I need to run. For myself. For my family. For my patients. For my faith.