Resistance

Just the other day,  I was out running and learned something about life and myself.

I have several routes laid out that I travel on based upon the time or distance or training I'm trying to do.  First of all,  I've had to learn that I'm not 25 anymore.  That has been a hard lesson.  The body just doesn't do what I want it to do . . . in the time I want it to do it . . . but nevertheless, I continue to run.  There is something in this for my overall health . . . and I'm not interested really in my blood pressure, cholesterol or other blood #'s as much as my doctor is.  This is obvious when I head to CFA tomorrow or snack away tonight.  But again, there is something there that keeps pulling me out to sludge along.

This latest "eureka" moment came as I headed for a 5 mile stumble/jaunt.  As I headed out east along SR 52, I kept looking down at my training watch and noticed that I was busting it on my pace . . . almost a whole minute per mile from what I usually accomplish.

Now the first thing that I do is look down and make sure my feet are under me.  I'm thinking that maybe I ended up on the short hood of one of those electric cars or someone has picked me up on their motorized scooter or something.  It was an amazing euphoria moment for me . . . sorta like when I realize I'm down to the last Eintenmenn's chocolate Pop'em donut hole in the box.   Just taking it in . . . enjoying the moment of conquest.  And I went further out than usual and came to the end of that particular interval and realized I needed to return back towards home.

And that's when it hit me . . .

We had just had one of those Florida "Cold fronts" move through that afternoon . . . and as I turned to return home , I met it head on . . .

Resistance . . .

It was in the form of about a 15-20 mph wind that was blowing directly in my face.

And the challenge was on . . .


Now, to many experienced runners this probably isn't a problem.  But to this chap . . . well, yeah , . . .

Yeah . . . now I was remembering all 220 lbs of whatever I've been carrying around on this 6 foot 1 frame.  Every Cheetos . . . Every Oreo . . . Every Fudge Stick and chip became 25 lbs heavier in my cells.

I began looking for my cell phone (was going to fake and injury and call my son to come pick me up) and realized that I don't bring it with me anymore.

And when exactly did Verizon do away with the pay phones that used to be along the side of the road or next to buildings?

That was pretty inconsiderate!!   Did we vote on that in one of those wordy thing-a-mig-jigs that are always on the ballots in the primaries and big elections?  I couldn't remember . . . but now I was about to puke . . . hyperventilating ( I think that was the medical term I heard somewhere) and now beginning to stumble around the 3 feet wide sidewalk . . . looking for a break in the wind  . . .

What a stupid idea I had to run !

Who am I kidding??  Am not a runner !!

Is this it???  Is this the "BIG ONE ELISABETH" that Sanford used to cry out about??

About then . . . I had an epiphany . . . or something . . . . it was just a quick second in the midst of my panic . . . but it was a slight whisper . . . but loud enough to break through the rattling of mucous that had gathered in my bronchial tubes . . . it was just 4 words I think . . . but there was something in them that began to settle me down.

"You got this" . . .

I know . . . I said it was 4 words . . . and actually the 4th word was me mumbling back "shit" after I heard the other words.

and then in that moment of clarity . . . other thoughts began to rush into my conscience and began to try and rescue me from my despair.   It wasn't my first meeting with "resistance" . . .

I remembered things I had read and other times of panic I had experienced . . . and I began the moments of recovering . . . it was time for my walk again in my intervals and while I walked I began to remember to slow my breathing down . . . intentionally . . . inhaled on this step . . . exhaled on this other one (they began on the same step at the beginning but I was able to gradually create some space between the two thank God!).

I slowed my pace down a bit when I started back up again . . . and guess what . . .

I made it to my next interval . . .

and my next  . . .

and my next . . .

and the wind was continuing to push against me . . . my runny nose was a painful crust of something that tasted salty every time I licked it . . .

so, I continued to drink water . . .

and continued slowly on my quest . . .

and I remembered the purpose of resistance in training . . .

and as I came around the final corner toward my drive way . . . and my interval ticked down toward completion . . . I had survived . . .

No, actually it felt larger than that.

I felt for a moment like Rocky Balboa on those steps in Philadelphia . . . you remember that right? . . .

I was about to raise my arms high and dance and then that lady with the little yorkie spotted me as she walked by and mumbled something like "beautiful day for some exercise" or something stupid like that . . .

I smiled . . . and nodded . . .

I didn't mutter what I was thinking . . . (my wife would be proud of me I thought)

for that day . . . that moment . . . I had conquered resistance . . . I had defeated my doubts and fear and panic . . . and as I took a deep breath again without pain, I felt. . . . . . a bit stronger.

And that's what resistance will provide.

As I tried to stretch and get some gatorade down into my system while recuperating on my back porch . . . I thought about how much resistance throws me off during my day to day life.

Maybe it was something internal rising it's ugly head again or something external that was reeking havoc on my soft existence but none the less felt totally paralyzing.   Stuff that just creates so much junk that the next thing I know , I can be in a full blown panic attack or worse acting out in God forsaken ways.   And those words come back to me again . . .

"You got this" . . .

and it's not a fake mantra of self strength that arises . . . no . . . this is something deeper that sounds truer to what I've known and heard . . . it is something that is real to me now . . .

It's because I'm not alone . . . Someone has joined me in this life and story and now I'm sensing Him carrying me along at times and at other times smiling as I recover my breath and focus on taking the next breath and step.

It's a strength I haven't known before but is true after the latest struggle of intensity.


I know it sounds kinda silly . . .  this moment of clarity I have . . .

And maybe it was simply a stupid time to go for a run.  Maybe it was just a close brush with death . . . or at least - unconsciousness . . . 

But as I ponder it's truths these days since I experienced that ridiculous trauma,  something feels more solid from deep within me  . . . I feel a bit "in shape" . . .

The "resistance" that used to always scare and threaten my destruction . . . I now see as something that we (He and I) use to simply get to the next square on the sidewalk . . .

and then there comes a point of satisfied collapse . . .  I think that is the moment of faith maturing in me . . .