I Quit Running...

...for 30 days. I like running. It has served me well in a lot of ways. I've enjoyed completing many races. I've gotten faster and run longer distances in the past year. But I have also gotten really, really tired. I have an excessive, obsessive personality. I have run a lot, especially up until this last month. I was trying to outrun my stress. Trying to outrun problems. Trying to run to deal with COVID. Just running too much. So when all my spring races got cancelled, I figured it was time to take a break, not from exercise, but from running. So I found myself a 30 day plan and had at it. Here's what happened:

Day 1: I don't like the workout. I feel high anxiety, sadness, grief, and feelings of loss. I realize that it's hard to get to my 10,000 daily steps goal on my FitBit. I'm just as hungry as when I was running and didn't expect it.

Day 2: I am sore. The workout was better. I am less thirsty and less hungry, but feel bloated and swollen.

Day 5: I am getting into this a little more. I find I am less hungry at breakfast, more hungry at lunch, and just as hungry at snack, but I've switched to craving protein than carbs. Walking is getting to be too much. Should I give it up and start coverting workout minutes to steps?

Day 7: Finally! A rest day. I go for a walk and am even more hungry.

Day 8: Legs day. I am less hungry, and my Fit Bit says I've burned a lot less energy for the spite despite moving such a large muscle group. 

Day 9: I feel bloated, weak, and tired. I don't like strength training very much.

Day 12: Easter. I really miss running. I usually like to celebrate with a run. Not this time.

Day 13: I like workout a little more, but I am also on the move more at work. So which is actually the cause of feeling good tired at the end of the day.

Day 14: I like the workout again. I skip my rest day to have two later? Finish early?

Day 16: I recognize that less hard workout days are good for me. That is one benefit of following a program. I am getting used to this life. I feel less bloated. My body feels more toned. I am only a little sore. I am figuring out ways to get my steps in most days.

Day 19: I complain about feeling tired. My husband notes that I seemed less tired when I was running. He suggests I go back to it. I tell him I'm waiting it out.

Day 24: Total body pyramid again. I hate pyramid workouts. Or do I? But I feel stronger than I remembered feeling the last time. I am using 10 pound weights for the most part now.

Day 25: I take a rest day to hike. I hike nearly seven miles despite not having even walked more than three miles in a row for many days. I am slightly surprised. My body can still do this!

Day 26: Three more days and a rest day. My heel hurts (from hiking, old shoes, ??). I'm tired of my daily 10 flights of stairs as my only running. Lord, help me be balanced when I go back. And may I not take running for granted.

Day 27:  I definitely feel stronger, but two more workouts....I'm ready!

Day 29: Last day. (Remember that rest day I skipped? It's coming tomorrow.) I'm glad I'm done. I did okay, but this workout plan was too much, at least with daily walking added on top. I feel like I "need" cardio and sunshine. I know weights are good for me, but I may just do the minimum.

Day 30: Rest day walk. The end. I look forward to running tomorrow.

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In summary, I quit running for a time. It was hard, but as with all hard things, it got easier with time. I hope I don't have to quit running again, but I probably will, and now I know I can do it. 

Quitting running showed me some things: that I get easily stir crazy. That I can obsess. That if I have to choose exercise, I prefer cardio outside (even if walking). That our bodies are resilient. (Now if I can manage not to overdo running and maybe, just maybe take a rest or "off" season.) Lord willing, back to the streets tomorrow. I'll update later....

Hiking is Healing.

I went hiking for the first time in a long time on Saturday. The hike turned out way longer than I intended, but when I got home, I felt such peace and calm. I texted my mom, "Nature is healing. I think God meant it that way."

Here are five reasons I believe hiking in nature is healing.

1) It causes us to stand in awe of God. Paul David Tripp writes that God created nature to amaze us and point us to God. Romans 1:20 says, "For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse."

2) It reunites us with humanity. There is something equalizing about hiking. Old, young, even the handi-capable can do it (given the right trails). People smile. People help one another. People check in on one another. Common care and concern and compassion emerge.

*With thanks to the nice cyclist who turned me away from walking 16 more miles and checked to make sure I had water to make it back to my car.

3) It reconnects us with our bodies. We live in a society that pushes gym workouts and diets and man-made practices that are generally unsustainable. Hiking gets us out in the fresh air. It helps us feel our bodies. It causes us to recognize true hunger and thirst. It frees us from fast fixes and causes us to check in with what we really need (and hopefully have in our well-stocked packs).

4) It reminds us that we can do hard things. I was tired when I finally turned around on my trail. I didn't want to hike over three miles back to my car. But I did. I reminded myself that if I could run a half marathon, I could do this, and I did. I felt a little sore by the end, but not bad.

5) It gives us perspective. The Spirit speaks to me in the wilderness. I process. I gain new insight. I find renewed hope, fresh vigor, and creative insights. While I cannot always be in nature, I can carry these, it's gifts, back with me.

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Is hiking for everybody? No, maybe not. Is it a substitute for actual therapy? No. But it sure is beneficial, at least for me. Maybe you should try it!

And Then There's the Rainbow.

As I look at the April calendar and cross off each day, I note the dearth of activities. The events I've crossed out. The mind-numbing way the days have run together. And then I see the photo above the days. The rainbow over the canyon. The sign of God's promise. A sign of lessons learned. A sign of waiting. A sign of hope that there is a better tomorrow. 

The days of waiting and struggle aren't over yet, but surely some good is coming from them. There is much less traffic on the way to work. (Yes, I still go to work, because I work in an essential field.) The world is quieter. There is less pollution.

We got invited into a small group at church. Friends have made more of an effort to connect. I've had to recognize again and again how weak I am and how much I need God's grace, and then the grace of others. I've had to ask my husband for a lot more help, and he has gladly given it.

There's nothing really to do on weekends, so I've been resting more. All my races were cancelled or postponed, so I took a break from running. There aren't all the foods I want at the grocery store, so I've been forced to cook more creatively.

I wouldn't (and didn't) choose this time. I have certainly felt a lot of sadness and grief. I may feel a lot more. There are so many cancelled plans already, and maybe more to come. But then there's the rainbow. 

God is still working. God is still teaching. God is still acting. May we look in awe toward Him.

The Unsung Heroes

Jesus says more than once in the Bible that the first shall be last and the last shall be first (Matt 19:30; Matt 20:16). I totally see that coming about with COVID-19. Who's sidelined right now? MLB players. NBA players. Celebrities. Heads of state. Who's out in the workforce? Grocery store workers. Garbage men. Plumbers. Air conditioning techs. Construction workers. Road graders.  The people we consider "less than." 

Being a grocery store worker isn't glamorous. It's can't pay well. And now it's hazardous to one's  health due to exposure to germs and crazy people. People aren't nice to grocery store workers anyway. And now? Shoppers are stressed and especially mean and grouchy.

The garbage men? Their jobs have just gotten harder with everyone staying home and making more trash. Now they, too, have to face more germs. Trash is stinky and smelly and nasty anyway. 

Anybody have a stopped up toilet or need heat or air? Those techs are out, and they have to enter homes, homes that could be infected. Building maintenance and road repair? Those must still go on. 

I am not discounting the selfless service of the doctors and nurses working round the clock to save lives. I am so thankful for them, too! But they are getting more recognition right now: news stories, social media mentions, the white ribbon campaign. But who's celebrating the "least of these?" They're the ones keeping us going. They're the ones making it possible to have food on our tables, clean and comfortable homes, and safe roadways. They're the ones risking their health and livelihood so we can stay at home and maintain ours.

Thank a grocer today. Thank the garbage man. Protect techs if they come to your home. Wave at the construction workers. The "least of these" should be honored in first place right now. They are the unsung heroes. 

There is Enough.

"As thy days, so shall thy strength be" (Deut 33:25, King James Version).

Even before COVID 19, I felt like I was living in a season where there never seemed to be enough. There never seemed to be enough time, energy, cooked food, gas in the car, friends, connections, times to think, insight, etc. I say there seemed because there really was enough. I could choose to cut things out of my schedule to make time for what was important. We had plenty of food, just maybe not what I wanted to eat. I could fill up my car at any old gas station. I had friends, even if they dwell far away. God was opening up opportunities for connection if I only looked for them. I could choose to shut off some noise in my life (the radio, social media, etc.) and commit to reflection. 

Then COVID-19 hit. I couldn't find staples like rice and beans and carrots at the grocery store. (Why carrots were in short supply, I don't know.) There was no toilet paper on the shelves. Work got busier. My mind got more crowded with anxiety and worry and fear. I worried about my health and the health of my loved ones. I wondered how I would survive in such a season of lack. I expressed my anxieties to my husband, wanting him to sympathize, and his in his wisdom said, "Has God always provided?"

"Yes, but..."

He cut me off. "Then I can't join you."

He was right. God has always provided, and He always will. The issue with my feelings of scarcity is really my mindset. God is Provider. There is enough. There is enough time. There is enough energy. There are enough resources. 

For what God calls me to do and how He calls me to live. <----- And that is the kicker.

I don't have time or energy or resources for anything other than what God has laid out for me. Neither do you. Maybe in this season of life my sphere of influence is small, mostly in my own home. Maybe it's the same for you. But in this season, even with COVID-19, God's portion is enough. His grace is sufficient for me (2 Cor 12:9). And it is for you, if you believe. His strength is sufficient for you, if you believe, if I believe. 

God is Enough. May we have faith to live out of that truth.

Learning From Lent

I started practicing Lent years ago, probably ten years ago at this point. It was hard then, and it is hard now. Some years I haven't practiced, but most years, I get convicted about something I need to give up. I don't want to fast, but eventually I succumb to the Spirit and do it. The first days and weeks of fasting this year seemed long (and Lent was a whole 46 days this year). The last few days, I wanted to quit, but then Easter came and I was grateful I fasted, grateful for this ritual and spiritual discipline that teaches me so much year in and year out.

Easter this year admittedly felt a lot different. It was more somber, less celebratory, but it was still Easter, and Christ is risen. Hallelujah! And because Christ is risen, we have the Holy Spirit, and it is that Spirit that convicted me to fast.

This year I fasted from three things: listening to music or podcasts in my car, tea, and chocolate. I have fasted from all three of these before, but never in conjunction. This year, I felt convicted to give up all three, to let Jesus take their place. I fasted from these practices and things for many reasons, but mostly because I tend to overuse them for comfort. There is no harm in finding comfort in God's good gifts, but when the gifts become more important than the Giver, there's a problem. I was bordering on that: drowning my thoughts (and prayers) out with music in the car, drowning my hunger and longings in tea up to three times a day, and looking to chocolate to give me peace to sleep. So essentially, I gave up comfort for Lent.

Almost immediately, I felt the ache of my loss. My thoughts assaulted me as I drove. The commutes to and from work seemed extra long. I felt the ache in my belly from not having tea. I missed the lingering at the table after meals as I sipped. I missed the calmness of the tea's warmth as it slipped down my throat. I couldn't figure out what to eat as a nighttime snack. But as I faithfully stuck with the fast, God started to show me benefits. My doctor told me my vertigo might be due to my electrolyte balance being off. My mom told me drinking less liquids would help. Well, fasting from tea took care of that recommendation! I started to notice that I was hungry after a lot of meals, and drinking less tea made room for more food and more energy (a sore lack these days). I recognized that I could eat a lot of different things for snack and started to figure out what did and didn't satisfy, thereby enlarging my repertoire. Then COVID-19 hit, and I saw even more reasons the Lord may have prompted me to fast. Having no radio on in the car meant less exposure to news. I became more and more grateful for a small space free from virus talk. (The overhead freeway signs and billboards reminded me of COVID enough.) I found that I could use my commute time to pray, or call those I loved and could not visit. I found that could discipline myself to sit and linger at the table without tea, if rest was what I needed. Groceries became more random (though not scarce-thankfully we have food), so having variety to my snacks helped me roll with the flow of food.  And now that I can find no powdered milk anyway, I have ideas of what I can enjoy besides my preferred hot chocolate mix. I am thankful, even if the fasting was painful.

Did I give up the fast on Easter? Yes. Because fasting past Easter can become legalistic and judgmental for me. I sure enjoyed the tea I sipped with breakfast and the chocolate chip cookie I had with snack. I was encouraged by the songs I heard on the radio in my car this morning. I hope that as I add back these things, I will return to a place of more moderation and gratitude overall.

Did I learn from Lent this year? I sure did! Was it easy? No. But the Spirit is faithful. Praise Him!

Real Life Marriage: Things I Never Expected

Photo by Sharon Lane

In our first ten months of marriage, I never expected...

...Marriage to be so hard.
...Marriage to expose so much of my selfishness.
...To move hours away from my family.
...To buy a house.
...To change jobs.
...To have the honeymoon period wear off and yet still love so much it hurts.
...To have my identity change.
...To let go of so many things that used to matter so much.
...To have amazing best friends, but yet find my husband really is becoming my bestest friend.
...To be living through a pandemic.

We are healthy and well today, and for that, we praise God. And I am thankful. For all the hard times, and the good times. To be with my person, even if it is cooped up in a house. That we got married last year instead of this year. For a God who knew everything that would happen on this earth before it all begin. We stand in awe of him.

I Had A Dream.

The dream was pretty vivid. I was sitting in a church auditorium, a cattywampus one at that, with booths and tables and all kinds of seating styles, all jammed together and out of order. The sense of distress and uneasiness was high. And all of a sudden, there was an announcement, "There's a dead guy outside." The room went silent. Fear was palpable. And then I, the one who normally remains silent in big gatherings said, "God is our refuge."

The dream ended there, but its memory did not. If I analyze my dream, I think I know where the murder scene came from: a news article read before bed about a recent police shooting. And in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, I know all too well the feelings of panic and mass hysteria. But the "God is our refuge" piece? That came 1) from the Holy Spirit, and 2) from reciting the truth to myself and claiming God's promises. I've been breath praying, "Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge" (Psalm 16:1, New International Version) over and over recently. I've also been trying to memorize more verses about God as refuge. And I've been Bible journaling the Psalms, in which this concept of God has refuge just keeps coming up. I need this truth.

I had a dream, and it showed me something. Mindset matters. We get in what we put out. God's Word is always true, but the more we study it, the more it becomes true. God's Word...

...May we study it.

...May we learn it.

...May we hide it in our hearts.

...May we dream it.

To Him be the glory!