Passionately Hardcore

"Maybe I shouldn't have had breakfast at Denny's." ~ Jordan Kent, who vomited after running the 400 meters in the 2002 USA Junior National Championships held in Eugene, Oregon.

Yesterday I dedicated my run to a running partner who is injured right now.  She is training for her very first 5k.  Usually training for a 5k means running lots of miles and speed work, but right now her training means letting her body rest so that it can heal.  We’re hoping for her full recovery and an excellent 5k experience. 

I got the idea to dedicate my run from an inspiring post by our Women Can Run clinic director:

Hey, ladies. I just saw a post on a friend's Facebook status... an idea that she got from a friend of hers and one that is worth passing along to you. It said:
"Like my status, and while I am running/walking I will devote a mile in prayer for you, I will send you a message or post letting you know. If you have a specific prayer feel free to send me a message. (If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer." Matt. 21:22)"
What a great way to occupy your thoughts while your body is working! Consider trying this idea or a variation thereof.

I think this is a WONDERFUL idea and I hope that it starts a movement.  I don’t know who began the original post but I am inspired.  My runs will never be un-dedicated again. 

In honor of my friend, I wanted to pick a difficult workout to dedicate to her.  It didn’t take me long to decide what to do.  Off of Skyline onto Sheppard Drive is my town’s version of Heartbreak Hill.  It is a 342-foot elevated gain up a mile long hill.  It is the kind of road that you love to drive down at full speed but when you turn around to drive back up your engine screams in protest for the duration of the pull.  I knew my calves would be screaming in protest, too.  I was looking forward to it.    

Halfway up the hill my stomach began to feel…eh…not so good.  Halfway down the hill my stomach was not only upset, it was angry with me.  Ok, so maybe I had brought it on myself.  I had eaten a leftover doughnut for breakfast.  I know better but… What?!  Doughnuts at my house are an extreme rarity so it wasn’t an option to leave that apple fritter in the frig all day long to taunt me.  I had to knock it out first thing.  =)  But hours later, during my evening run, all of that sugar left my belly feeling a little woozy.  And it was time to find a bathroom.   

If you’re not a runner and you’re reading this right now, you may be a little disgusted with me for sharing too much information.  First, I want to say…that is not the entirety of information I could have shared.  Second, you’re welcome.  =)  If you are a runner, you’re most likely not even phased by my sharing.  We’ve all been there.  It’s a situation similar to that of a non-mother getting grossed out by seeing a dirty diaper.  Contrast that reaction with the reaction of a mother, who doesn’t even recognize it as something nasty any more – it’s just a part of life that is a little messy, but to which you have grown accustomed.  That’s how many runners feel about tummy troubles.  It’s just part of it.     

So I ran straight down off of that hill and into the little bathroom in the park.  I did not pass GO, I did not collect two hundred dollars.  I was sitting there in that nasty concrete barely-windowed poorly ventilated bathroom with toilet paper decorating the floor and the absurdity of it made me start to giggle.  Isn’t it strange how sometimes it is the odd predicament that can make us feel more fully alive.  I suddenly felt this strong sense of community with runners all over the world.  There is a whole group of people out there who understand what I was experiencing at that moment.  They are the same people who get up at 4am to go for that long distance run before the kids wake up.  The same people who get their second wind from watching the sun rising up over the trees.  The same people who chase the clouds to the finish line.  The same people who set a personal record in the middle of a trail surrounded by trees with no audience except themselves and God to cheer them on and that is enough for them.  I felt connected to them all and it was a great feeling.  And the best part?  Despite stomach problems and all, we choose it.  We choose to run.  Because we are passionate.  Because we are hardcore.   

The great thing about all of this is that we don’t have to be runners to be hardcore about life.  Hardcore is not limited to those who are physically fit or into any kind of sport.  If we are living passionately for a God-inspired purpose, we are hardcore.  If we are engaged when it would be more comfortable to be apathetic, we are hardcore.  If we are living for passion and purpose instead of for comfort and convenience, we are hardcore.  And if we are sitting it out while we nurse an injury so that we can get back into the game like my running partner is right now, we are hardcore.  Sitting it out is sometimes a necessary part of getting back in.  It takes a lot of courage and patience.  And that, too, is hardcore. 

God works to get our attention in many ways.  He speaks to us through many things, including the passions He Himself wove into our soul’s DNA.  One need only read a few chapters of the Bible to see that God loves adventure.  So I’m going to be hardcore about life.  I’m running toward the adventure instead of seeking the convenient.  I’m listening for the messages He’s been trying to whisper to me.  I’m letting Him run right next to me, matching me stride for stride, and wearing out my defenses until I can see clearly what He sees.  Passionately hardcore for this life He’s gifted to me.         

Yesterday, after I had ran up and down the 34 story building we call Sheppard Drive, I pulled up into my driveway and realized that I had forgotten my pepper spray in the bathroom at the park.  So I asked my hubby if he would like to go with me to pick it up so that we could share about our day while riding in the car together.  He happily agreed.  When we drove over the crest of Sheppard Drive and began speeding down the hill he questioned, “Is THIS the hill you ran up?”  “Yes.”  And, without me mentioning my newfound buzzword of the day to him, he exclaimed, “You’re hardcore!”  Yes, honey.  Yes, I guess I am.  =) 

Please read and be inspired by this moving story about a hardcore woman who died in the London Marathon one mile from the finish line.  She was running to raise money for a charity.  I’m sorry that she is gone, but what a way to go.  I admire and respect her and promote her cause.  May we all spend our last breath in pursuit of the calling God put on our heart like this young lady did.      

  

Have fun out there today and dedicate your run to someone you love or to someone you need to love more.  Til next time, may you live life on the run.