I have always loved to run. It is a means of getting from one place to another. It is a means of doing it quickly. There is a joy and purpose to using my legs to propel me forward in life. It allows me autonomy and self-reliance. But it also allowed me an escape to be away from others and secure isolation. From full gallop to full stop at my destination. No gear changes in between.
I learned last year from my sister Kara that this was a good method for breaking myself down. That I needed to have a period of cool down where I walked for a while after running. Then that it was important to stretch to avoid my muscles getting sore and cramped from abuse. There was a training framework and discipline to this. And my family started a group chat for a casual "run club" to hold us accountable to doing it. And I understand accountability and rules, as I take them seriously when provided.
But for a long time, I tried to outrun the knowledge of rules as well, because once I know something I am accountable to no longer have an excuse for not doing things correctly. There is the haunting verse in the book of James "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin." (4:17).The book of James is full of such decisive counsel and advice. It is straightforward in its accountability and I am growing reluctantly fond of reviewing its guidance. It is not always an easy road, but it is a solid one to follow.
So this running club has an initial period of activity, but it falls off after a period. But I treat it as motivation. I am externally driven to commitments, the more trivial, the more interesting to me. Heavy commitments on big things carry much weight and forethought. Serious commitment to small things is more interesting, as failure does not have as large a ripple effect on others. I am cautious when giving commitments, as I tend to take them seriously, knowing how much I pride myself on the ability to follow up on my word makes me hesitant to give it when I do not know if I can deliver on my part. I hate disappointing people and tell them I was not able to fulfill my end of what I promised.
But I love to run. Never saw the purpose of taking it as a serious measured discipline, just something I enjoyed doing. If I took it seriously? Well, I would be accountable to being good at it. And when I have data, I am accountable to the results of that data and seeing how my behavior affects those results or lack thereof. But the one thing that this run club succeeds at doing in 2018 is that the members decide to do a 5k mud run obstacle course in the summer. This is the first running event I have ever done and on the day of the event, I wear a beat up pair of sneakers and manage to lose them in the sucking mud of the first obstacle. I do the majority of the three mile course in my socked feet, through all the obstacles because I am object oriented focused to complete tasks and overcome obstacles even without the convenience of shoes. At the end of the race, I discover that I have a puncture wound in the arch of my right foot. And have been running through a lot of mud. This is not a best case scenario here. Over the course of the next few weeks I have to slow down and let it recover. I limp for a while, but through diligence and care, thankfully my foot heals over in time.
Later in the year, a friend asks me to participate in a Warrior Dash event with him as the person with which he was planning to attend had second thoughts. This is within a week's notice of the event. I am confident in my ability to run and be active, forgetting that I had recently donated blood. So when the day of the event comes, I am disappointed in myself for being so easily out of breath and unable to keep up. I start to doubt my confidence in my abilities and realize I should probably be in the habit of consistently running more often so this doesn't tire me out. It isn't until months later that I connect the dots of low blood levels being, um, IMPORTANT, to being physically active.
Before this revelation came, my disappointment in my self image not matching what I envisioned drove me to take this recreational activity more seriously. I started being more consciously consistent and the two misfortunes in those running events motivated me to double down and enter more running events. I was not going to be defeated or discouraged by letting my circumstances and results overcome me.
As I mentioned before, I take commitments seriously and once I enter something, to cancel and forfeit the fee really doesn't sit well with my sense of frugality. So I used my pride and my stubbornness to drive me to try to better myself through challenges. I don't say this as a bragging area at all - I find myself and my stubbornness hard to live with sometimes because an impulsive and spiteful past version of myself decided that present dissatisfaction with circumstances has inflicted a penance on his future self to fulfill and overcome those circumstances.
But in all this, I learn a greater lesson about myself and my accountability habits. It is in my habits to run, to avoid staying or saying goodbye, to avoid conflicts and redirect uncomfortable conversations and commitments. Because I fear being held accountable to others. I know how seriously I take things and how I can be so consumed by my obsessiveness in completing what I said I would do, that I sometimes objectify the peoples' feelings who come between me and that completion of the task. I need to slow down and stretch my perspective to consider what I am doing and who it affects.
I recently joined a new church. One that is small enough, and is focused on relationships and accountability to one another in effecting real change in their lives and in their communities. I can't run or observe from a comfortable distance. I am seen and heard and known, and it is different than most other churches I have seen. It is encouraging and uplifting to be a part of something greater, and I had never considered membership before in a church, figuring that the Church was a greater body of believers and I didn't see the point of marking my "x" in any one box. I wanted to have freedom to roam and wander through churches as I learned and gleaned from the fields of others. Where the Word was good and fruitful, I might stay a while, but this earth is not my home and I didn't see the point of setting roots or committing to any one church.
But this new church feels different to me. It has a purpose and a mission to its members to be accountable. I am not just a line in their financial or roll call ledgers as another face in their Sunday crowd, but called to be active and committed to being a part of something greater. And I am okay with change in my habits, if I understand it is in the purpose of a better thing than what I currently am able to accomplish. Explained change of something better, a goal for which to strive with a group of people who have joy in the pursuit. That is what gives running a greater purpose.
Before, I could run for the joy of the act, being accountable to no one but myself. But without a greater course with a goal at the end, my efforts were without context or purpose. I am reminded of Hebrews 12, which comes after the marvelous faith chapter which lists the heroes of the faith of whom the world was not worthy. (A description that still resounds with awed admiration in my mind and heart). "Wherefore seeing that we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds." (12:1-3).
Yesterday, I ran a 15k race alongside a friend. And between that friend and a pace keeping runner as a reminder of where I could finish, I finished the race at a pace that was beyond what I anticipated being able to accomplish. My faith should not be a private thing for me, but a discipline and an exercise in the community of believers. I should be honest about my shortcomings and fears, that I might not let them overtake me. "Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." (James 5:16).
There are things which I cannot do alone. Things which my pride and my self-sufficiency would be ineffectual and difficult. I need to let them go and accept with humility and accountability that in the company of a greater group, I might be encouraged and spurred to greater things than I could have conceived possible.
