"For I know my plans for you..."

Today was... how do you say... "not a good day." Then I went for a run. It was supposed to be 3 miles -- it ended up being 3 hours. I guess I had a few things to work out. When I started I had the weight of the world on my shoulders, and could feel it in every step. I was tired a mile in; with every stride I was convinced that my knee would finally pop or explode or detach. Can I really run a marathon? Is my body trained enough to do this? What happens if I have to quit halfway through?

I was the Chicken Little of the world tonight and I was sure the sky would be falling in a moment. I worried for friends, family, coworkers and myself. No topic was too small. It was more than thinking but less than praying: mostly just complaining I guess. Tossing out question after question in my head. But the weirdest thing happened during my run: I got a response. Not like audible voice, but a real response in a tone that I don't speak to myself in, and thoughts I don't think, and answers I didn't have.

Your identity is not tied to your job.

And that was something I needed to hear. It continued, and I'll paraphrase.

Your identity is not tied to your job, or what you do, or what you think defines you. Not your ideas, your plans, or your future. You are not the miles you run or your fundraising goal, or the books you read, the car you drive or the clothes you wear. You are not your friends. You're not what you did Friday night or Sunday morning. You are not defined by who you dated, the regrets you have, or what anyone thinks of you. You are my child.

And that's not a line that usually comes up in dialogue with myself.

I'm 5 miles away from home and choked up with a huge lump in my throat because it feels like somebody pretty important is whispering beautiful (liberating) truth into my mind. And the truth is the last week or so I've felt like a child, just sort of wandering through this new "real life" thing and looking for something to cling to. "A God sized hole..."

Does it matter if I keep running?
(laughter) No, not really.

Can I turn around now?
Sure.

If I keep running can You help?
Of course.

I tried to check my pace on my watch, but realized I must have bumped the stop button a few miles back. The numbers were the same as last time I checked, fourty minutes ago.

Good.

My stride got a little lighter, and it felt like less was riding on me than when I started. I was at liberty to let go - to look at God's creation, the moon reflecting off the lake through the trees.

I ran like a child: aimlessly and only until I got tired. And when I did, I didn't hesitate to turn around and go home. My best guess is that I went about 16 miles, but I don't know and don't really care.

Today was a great day.

Less than a month until the marathon...

Here’s an e-mail from Nick that made my day:

"… but guess what. im running the grand rapids half marathon. i'm inspired. your videos inspired me. i want to join team world vision. help me. i want to break 2 hours."

Years ago, I saw a doctor’s business card that said “blessed to be a blessing.” That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling lately as part of Team World Vision. The best part has been seeing other friends get involved, and see our hearts have been changed. Justin, Nick and I are not “runners,” but for the first time in ever, we’re excited to run.

Today Michael, Brasser, David and I are going to talk about the Grand Rapids Marathon and Riverbank Run. How awesome would it be if David and some of the other "Lost Boys" joined Team World Vision!? I think the 2009 Riverbank run could be a big event for us, (and not just because I love GR!)

"oo yeah and i heard were getting back tattoos. when, because i'm in."

(Mom, you don’t read this thing do you?)

a letter to her, a letter to him.

to the girl who (literally) took my breath away at the nike 10k-

Hi again. It's been two days since we ran into each other at the race.  Some might say it was destiny; I think it was a complete accident.  But I wanted to write you.

When we met, I was foolishly trying to keep up with my better looking, tougher friend Brasser. He was setting a blazing 7:20 mile pace, and I was struggling. It was only about 1.2 miles into the race when Brasser and I came around the corner and  I saw you. I guess you were struggling too. Perhaps, like me, you started with a pace that was just too fast to hold.  No shame there, I respect that. I had the exact style on Sunday.

Brasser was sprinting through the mass of people, I was desperately trying to keep up, you were getting tired. I think your friend might have been pacing too fast for you and that's why you were upset, which (trust me) I can totally relate to. And just after Brasser passed you, and I approached, we had our moment.

We didn't get to talk about whether or not you had run in a race before. This was only my second. I'm just starting to get the race-thing and the pace-thing figured out. But because of our close moment together, I feel that I can speak open and honestly with you.

When you suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and swung your hands and elbows backwards in frustration, I was caught off guard.  Your left elbow drove hard into my right lung. I still am not sure I understand the timing and motives of your actions.  I don't know you very well, but I can honestly say I didn't expect it from you.  I'll be honest: I was hurt by your decision. I'm not going to tell you what you should or shouldn't do at a race, but I want you to know that I was caught off guard.  Perhaps if you're going to make a pattern out of suddenly stopping in the middle of a race and brandishing your elbows, you should have the courtesy to let the next guy know.

I don't need an explanation; from the moment you took my breath away I think you had the very best intentions.  I wish you the best with your next race and everything in your future. And seriously, join Team World Vision.  It won't be awkward if we see each other again.

sincerely,  

the guy you elbowed in the gut.

Faster Brasser,

I'll admit.  You won fair and square.  I underestimated your ability to run stupid fast for two miles and ditch me.  You pulled some Beijing Olympics marathon style stuff out there:  I thought I could pace faster and make up time at the end, but you finished strong.  You ran a 52:24 10k, four minutes and twenty-five seconds faster than me.  It's not quite "five minutes faster" like you've been announcing to the world via text, cellphone, facebook and local media outlets, but I know you've always been a fan of rounding up.  Either way, I'm impressed.  I thought I could pull a 55 minutes 10k and beat you, but you really proved you could persevere out there.

Nothing proves that you wanted this more than the fact that you threw up three times during the 10k.  

wait, check that.

The only thing that demonstrates how serious you were is the fact that you ran past the port-o-potties and urinated yourself in the last mile of the race.

Some people, those with less commitment, would think:  "If I win this race but sacrifice some of my dignity, do I still come out ahead?"  But not you Brasser.  You puked, peed, and nearly passed out on the way to a well deserved win.  And then (and only after I hugged you at the finish line) you boasted about all your extra circular accomplishments during the race.

and, haha, I completely respect that.  

THANK YOU Katelyn, Beth, Katie K and Katie S for coming out to cheer!

CONGRATS to Brasser, Aileen, Jill, Val, and Nick (who completed his first ever race)!  I had a BLAST with you all this weekend, and I can't wait to watch you guys run for Team World Vision in the Grand Rapids half-marathon!

"Seriously bro, no one is looking at your pants.  You can't even tell."

to donate to clean water projects in Africa on behalf of Brasser visit  http://www.firstgiving.com/justinbrasser

because, seriously, this guy is committed.