Skip to main content

Running Streak: Month Eight

  • Ran in one state
  • Ran in Meridian, Boise, Kellogg, and Kingston
  • longest run: 8 miles
  • shortest run: 1 mile (minimum requirement to keep the streak alive)
  • total January mileage: 70  
  • total streak days (at the end of January): 245  
  • total streak mileage: 484 miles. 
  • fastest mile: 9:10

Lots of things please me about my January running experience. The fact that I hit the 70-mile mark for the first time since August pleases me greatly--and certainly surprises me. But the best part about January running came on my trip to Kellogg. On Saturday morning I headed to my brother Paul's house to get in a little 2-miler with him. It was crazy weather--raining, gusting winds--and as we headed down the paved path toward Smelterville, we found ourselves skirting several large puddles. This skirting involved running off the path and through the snow. I'm not sure why, but after a while we gave up on the skirting strategy and elected to run through the puddles--sort of a high-kneed, tip-toe running motion, that I'm sure looked incredibly ungraceful. It was fun, though. 

We were almost a mile out, and planning to turn around soon, when the 40 mph wind gust hit us head-on. At first I thought we could power through to hit that mile mark, but after about ten yards I gave up and turned around. It was amazing to feel the force of the wind blowing us forward, as we headed back in. It was one memorable run, that's for sure. It was great to get in another run with my brother, too. 




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is My Story

In the spring of 1986 I told the story of my brother’s proposal as a part of my lesson on Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29 — a lesson that I was delivering in my English methods course as a senior at the University of Idaho.

Ten years and hundreds of students later, I was still teaching a version of that lesson to my freshmen at Kellogg High School, and the story had grown to be a more integral, a more intentional, a more dramatic part of that lesson. This story brought some sort of magic to my classroom. Students leaned in, faces and postures transformed, and sometimes tears welled up in their eyes. It was the best day of the school year.

When I moved to Timberline High School in the sixteenth year of my career, I was reluctant to bring my sonnet lesson to this new venue. Moving to a new school had brought an unexpected dip in my confidence. Storytelling calls for a certain amount of vulnerability, and I just wasn’t sure I had enough courage to go to that vulnerable place. One day I took the r…

Reflections on Running: Part One

Once upon a time, a girl started running. She was nursing a broken heart, and she needed to do something hard and rewarding. (Is easy ever rewarding? Hmmm, I wonder.) She stepped out of her back door and ran until she estimated she had gone as far as she could go . . . and still make it home. Later she discovered she had run just a little over a mile on that day.
Over the next three years she ran, sometimes with consistency — three or four days a week — sometimes with month-long gaps in between, and, during a particularly satisfying stretch, 5-6 days a week, training for two marathons in one year.
A pulmonary embolism in year six (and a scary doctor) slowed down her progress, and a demanding job made it easy to spend several months each year not running.
But still . . . every time she saw a runner on the road, she looked longingly. She remembered the joy of listening to footfalls landing, one after another, for miles and miles and miles. She remembered the rhythm of breath and beats an…

Surely God is in This Place

A friend wrote today to tell me how our music had been a "necessary balm" during her stressful week. She described some of the events of her week, and I would have to say "stressful" is an understatement. Still, I was delighted to hear that our music had brought her some peace in the midst of it all.

But it was her final sentence that has lasted throughout my day: surely God is in this place.

I had checked my email, while my students watched a short film clip, and when I read that phrase I felt it down to the soles of my feet. I felt its impact so profoundly that I had to put it away for later. The lights were about to come up.

So tonight I went to her message again: surely God is in this place.
Surely God is in this place.

Of course I know this. I know He is an omnipresent God. I know He is sovereign. I know He has me (and He has you) in the palm of His hand. I know it.

But somehow my friend's words--coming as they did after a story of mishap and injury--helped me k…