Before the day dawned today it was already hot and windy. I woke up 1 minute before my alarm was set to go off at 4:25 to rouse me for my planned 21 miler, but I could tell as soon as my feet hit the floor that I was tired and that this run might not go so well. In the dark, chasing a really bright full moon forcing its light through the clouds as often as not, I started an easy pace into the hair dryer wind.
I had a lot on my mind this morning. Today was our 18th wedding anniversary, our middle son’s 12th birthday and was to be baptism day for our youngest son. The night before Kay and I went out on a date to celebrate our anniversary, a night out made possible by the kindness of a friend who agreed to babysit Lulit. We had a good time going to dinner and seeing “Winter’s Bone” at the artsy movie theater, but we also didn’t get home until nearly 10:30 and by the time Linda left and Kay got home from taking care of the neighbor’s dog it was getting kind of late to be going to bed the night before a very early rise for a long run.
So I was aware of my general fatigue and it worried me as I was heading out on my long out and back path. I was also aware that it was going to be my job to baptize Cade this morning and that no matter what, bonk or not, I could not be late getting back from my run, which was part of why I left so early, but I also knew I only had margin for maybe a couple miles of bonking and walking at most and it would start to crowd the other critical events of the morning, and that simply could not happen on this morning. So as I plodded through miles 7 and 8 and realized that I was only managing about an 8-minute pace into the hot sixteen mile an hour wind (with gusts around 24 according to the National Weather Service!) I made the decision to turn around at 8.5 miles out and figured that would buy me an extra half an hour of time for the bonk that I could feel was coming. When struggling already at 8 miles out, I can tell it’s not going to be pretty.
I did "quit" and start taking walk breaks with about 6 or so miles to go to get back home and shuffled unceremoniously into the driveway at a little after 7:00 having covered only a little more than 16 miles in total. But I had plenty of time now for the rest of the day. Today that was more important.
Cade’s baptism was actually quite wonderful. Cole, the children’s pastor, spent a lot of time with us last week going through the meaning of baptism with Cade, and this morning he was very helpful and walked us through everything that was going to happen, this time from a logistical rather than spiritual point of view. He also announced to the congregation Cade’s intention to be baptized and asked him about his belief in Jesus Christ. Cade eagerly affirmed his faith again – something he has been ready and willing to do ever since the day a few months ago when he made his decision to follow Christ – and then we were on our way to the baptismal.
Before baptizing Cade I told the folks there that he had been eagerly asking about baptism for quite a while. He was very much like the Ethiopian fellow whom Philip led to Christ in Acts who saw a lake and insisted on being baptized right then and there. Unfortunately with Cade it took a little longer than that, but it was not due to his lack of desire or persistence!
After we got home from Church we went into final cleaning high gear for Josiah’s birthday party, since he has three buddies that he has invited over to eat too much pizza and sugar and spend the night here. Everybody pitched in and cleaned here and there and before long we had things in pretty good shape. Quick enough, it turned out, that I was able to, very gratefully, take a Sunday afternoon long-run recovery nap. How restorative that can be!
Josiah’s friends started showing up around 5:00, starting with Justo, for whose family the boys and Kay had taken care of their dog(s) while they were on vacation last week in Florida. I say dog(s) because at the beginning of the week there were two dogs, but at the end, well, you can’t make this stuff up, yes, the old dog who could barely walk or stand up on its own died and the boys discovered the corpse two or three mornings ago when they went over to feed them.
I wish I had more opportunities to listen in to the conversations of 11 and 12 year old boys. I know I was one at one time, but somehow the memories now escape me of discussing the female principle’s moustache and the hated lunch lady and how you can turn a tube of “Go-gurt” into a bomb when you whack somebody with it. Kay and I were nearly rolling on the floor laughing when Justo regaled us about one particular naughty boy in their class who was apparently frequently sentenced to taking “walks” with Dr. Cook, the principle with the moustache. By the way, for the record, I think Dr. Cook is a nice looking woman and doesn’t have a moustache. But you know I think in the mind of a 12-year-old boy lots of things get stretched and legends even get fabricated entirely out of whole cloth in spite of contrary facts. I guess it all makes for better story telling in their little pre-teen clan. There was also something about a girl with a unibrow. I kinda doubt that one, too.
Well, Kay and our sons and the birthday party boys are off to a movie tonight. Shortly after they left I loaded up Lulit in the stroller and leashed the dog for a stroll around the neighborhood culminating in a stop at the neighborhood park. Here Lulit played for quite a while – she loves the park – and just about when I was thinking it was time to go she fell kind of awkwardly down a stair on the playground equipment. She started crying a lot of course and I grabbed her and held her close to me to comfort her. What I had not noticed, however, until she lifted her head up off my shoulder was that she had busted her little lip pretty good and had bled all over her face and my shirt (not that I care about the shirt). A nice lady ran to her van and brought us some wipes for her face (Lulit looked like she had been in a fist fight) and more importantly, some Smarties. Ah, yes, the comforting power of candy. That was the ticket.
After we got home and I got her to bed I reflected a little bit about that moment of pain for Lulit. Of course, I did not want it to happen, and I would not want it to happen again, but there was good that came of it. At that moment when she first fell and I picked her up and held her, she buried her face in my shoulder and really cried and really let me comfort her. We had a few very close moments there that were really wonderful, even though they were in the middle of pain. I am very thankful for those moments when our hearts really connected and she hugged me as tight as she could.
Of course, this event was also a parable, for those who have ears to hear.
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