After waiting in a long line on an unseasonably hot Friday to pick up my race packet (and my free Drake Relays Asics running socks!), my wife and I got some dinner and headed back to our hotel (*). I drank water and tried to sleep. The sleeping didn't go particularly well, but I felt pretty good Saturday morning.
After a small breakfast of orange juice and raisin bran in the hotel lobby (where a bunch of real athletes were enjoying the free waffles), we checked out and drove over to the Drake campus. We happen across a ground-level heating vent, which kept my wife warm while I jogged around campus to warm up. During my warmup jog, I ran into Ron and Matt, the guys I work with who originally decided to run the half marathon.
About ten minutes before the race, it started to rain. As I headed for the starting line, I realized I had left my baseball cap in the car. Too late now. I kissed my wife (goodbye, or for luck?), and lined up. I retied my shoes (**). One was too tight. Loosen. Re-retie. Too loose. Snug it up. Re-re-retie. That'll do. A few steps to keep warm. Bounce on the toes. Ready to go.
Bang! The starter's pistol went off. The crowd of runners tensed, and began to wait. A few seconds later, those of us at the back could see the front of the crowd starting to move. Within a minute, I was able to start walking. About the time I crossed the starting line, I was jogging lightly, trying to move up without running over the people in front of me. I saw an opening on the outside, so I moved out and began moving up on the crowd. That turned out to be good, because that was the side my friend Lisa happened to be on. "Hi Scout!" she called. I smiled, said "hi", and kept trying to move up.
I finished the first mile at just under 11:30. I was still stuck in the crowd. Mile two took about 9:30--still crowd-limited, but better. It was somewhere around mile two or three that the leaders of the 8K started to run back past us. Most of us clapped or cheered them on. As one 8Ker passed, I overheard another runner say jealously, "boy, it'd be nice to cover twelve feet with one stride."
When I passed the 8K turnaround, things opened up a lot. I picked up the pace a bit, pacing myself by a guy wearing a jersey from a triathlon in Madison. And then things started to go downhill.
Literally. It was a long, wonderful downhill through a fairly fancy neighborhood. Once I realized I was short-stepping, I shook my head and opened up my stride. No more effort, a lot more distance. And somewhere on the downhill was a guy playing the Rocky theme from a tent by the road. Loping downhill, feeling wonderful, listening to the Rocky theme may have been one of the high points of the race.
Things start to blur after that. Some young kids sprinted along with the runners for a while. A minute of rain felt nice. A church sign had an encouraging excerpt from Hebrews 12:1-2. Downhills were good. Flat stretches felt good. Uphills weren't bad. I was feeling pain in my hips, but it was tolerable (***). The sideaches that had plagued me for weeks were staying away.
Around the 11th mile, I started to lose steam. It doesn't help that the course starts working its way upward around there. My legs were losing springiness, and my knees didn't want to straighten out all the way. But I kept going. I didn't listen to the voice that told me to walk.
Mile 12. Getting close. Then the one-mile-to-go mark. So close. Legs so uncooperative. The final turn. A gal passes me, moving fast. Says something encouraging. I reply with something encouraging (****). Finish line looks so far away. Chugging along. Passed again. Several times. Deep breath. Let's go, legs. Turn it into a flat-out run. I crossed the finish line just behind the encouraging-comment gal.
It turns out 50 degrees and slightly drizzly is pretty good weather for a 13.109 mile run. 2:05:20 from the starting gun to crossing the finish line. Ten minutes behind Matt, and about three behind Ron. Not bad for my first half-marathon, and my second "competitive" race ever.
I'd consider doing it again. But I think I'd do it barefoot. Just not barefoot and in a kilt, like one guy that ran it.
* For the record, the Merle Hay EconoLodge is pretty decent for the money. Just be warned that the free wireless internet might not work at the ends of the building.
** I'd decided to switch shoes just before leaving for the race. I suspected that the cushy shoes I'd been running in were probably partly responsible for my sore hips. The thing I was most worried about was the shoes I was switching to rubbing on the top of my foot like they had on my Jones Park run.
*** The ibuprofen I'd taken prophylactically to prevent swelling probably helped a lot with this.
**** I can't, for the life of me, remember what either comment was.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
The Iowa Marriage Kerfuffle
Last week, the Iowa Supreme Court decided unanimously that the state law prohibiting same-sex civil marriage violated the Iowa constitution. This decision predictably has gay rights activists celebrating, and advocates of "traditional marriage" disappointed or downright angry.
I agree with the decision, even though I am a Bible-believing follower of Christ.
"Marriage" is a word that is loaded with meanings. To Christians, it's a sacred state that is blessed by God (*). To society, it's an institution for two people who either love each other very much, or who gain some advantage from participating in that institution. To the human race, it is a means of providing security for raising children. To the government, it is a slew of tax, inheritance, power-of-attorney, and other implications.
I can't say I'm surprised that a word with so many meanings and emotional shades lends itself to confusion (**).
The Bible is clear that (Christian) marriage was created by God and consists of one man and one woman. It is also clear that (Christian) marriage is neither temporary (***) nor to be entered into lightly (****). I would protest just as strenuously if my church were to support casual divorce as I would if it were to solemnize same-sex weddings.
Iowa law is clear that (IA civil) marriage is a "civil contract". That contract is governed by state law and agreed upon by the two parties to the contract. I do not have any problem with casual dissolution of civil contracts according to the terms of said contracts, just as I do not have any problem with individuals of any sex entering into civil contracts (*****).
It should be obvious that Christian (******) marriage and civil marriage are entirely different things, but may exist together. For example, my wife and I have an Iowa marriage certificate, which was signed at the conclusion of a wedding officiated by our pastor (*******). We're (Christian) married. We're also (civil) married.
No wonder people get confused!
To the Christian world: You view (Christian) marriage as something sacred, something from God. You're absolutely right. But stop putting your hope in laws and legal rulings and constitutional amendments. Go and share Christ's love, the love that saved you from death. Show God's grace even to unrepentant sinners (********).
Furthermore, the U.S. Constitution is clear, and the Iowa Constitution is in agreement, that the state and federal governments are to keep their collective noses out of religious practices. That means (as noted by the court's opinion) that the State of Iowa may not require any church to (Christian or civil) marry any couple, opposite- or same-sex.
To the gay-rights world: You view (civil) marriage as a civil rights issue, a privilege the government has been withholding. You're absolutely right. But please realize there are people who think something very different when you say "marriage", and they are horrified at what you are suggesting. You may not believe in the God they believe in, but please understand that they do.
To everyone on both sides: Let's get some different words, so we can talk about (Christian) marriage and (civil) marriage and not get confused. I would be perfectly willing to change the term we use for (Christian) marriage. It might be better to change both terms, so that the word "marriage" would become a vague archaism. Anyone out there want to neologize?
I might be wrong. If I am, please tell me. But when you do, please tell me what premise or reasoning of mine is wrong. If you think the Iowa Supreme Court is wrong, please tell me what premise or reasoning of theirs is wrong. Especially read section "I" of the opinion (and please cite section and page numbers; it'll help me to see where I failed to catch a flaw in reasoning).
* Divorce, infidelity, and other expressions of sin by imperfect humans notwithstanding.
** Therefore, I will try to be clear which sort of marriage I am talking about.
*** Extraordinary situations such as abuse or infidelity call for wisdom. The common knee-jerk red herring argument that this would demand that a spouse stay in a dangerous situation is superficial and offensive.
**** The church I attend gives enormous attention to premarital counseling. This has been very helpful to me, personally, as well as being generally laudable.
***** With the caveat, of course, that the contracts should be legal, equitable, and entered into without duress.
****** Other religions may view marriage in much the same way. Substitute as appropriate.
******* Pastor and friend, as a matter of fact. Also, my wife and I care rather more about the vows we made to each other before God and God's work in joining us together than about the legal document.
******** This doesn't mean never sharing God's truth. But it means not trying to force people to look like you before you'll love them. It also means sharing God's truth in the hope of seeing repentance, not an eagerness for destruction.
I agree with the decision, even though I am a Bible-believing follower of Christ.
"Marriage" is a word that is loaded with meanings. To Christians, it's a sacred state that is blessed by God (*). To society, it's an institution for two people who either love each other very much, or who gain some advantage from participating in that institution. To the human race, it is a means of providing security for raising children. To the government, it is a slew of tax, inheritance, power-of-attorney, and other implications.
I can't say I'm surprised that a word with so many meanings and emotional shades lends itself to confusion (**).
The Bible is clear that (Christian) marriage was created by God and consists of one man and one woman. It is also clear that (Christian) marriage is neither temporary (***) nor to be entered into lightly (****). I would protest just as strenuously if my church were to support casual divorce as I would if it were to solemnize same-sex weddings.
Iowa law is clear that (IA civil) marriage is a "civil contract". That contract is governed by state law and agreed upon by the two parties to the contract. I do not have any problem with casual dissolution of civil contracts according to the terms of said contracts, just as I do not have any problem with individuals of any sex entering into civil contracts (*****).
It should be obvious that Christian (******) marriage and civil marriage are entirely different things, but may exist together. For example, my wife and I have an Iowa marriage certificate, which was signed at the conclusion of a wedding officiated by our pastor (*******). We're (Christian) married. We're also (civil) married.
No wonder people get confused!
To the Christian world: You view (Christian) marriage as something sacred, something from God. You're absolutely right. But stop putting your hope in laws and legal rulings and constitutional amendments. Go and share Christ's love, the love that saved you from death. Show God's grace even to unrepentant sinners (********).
Furthermore, the U.S. Constitution is clear, and the Iowa Constitution is in agreement, that the state and federal governments are to keep their collective noses out of religious practices. That means (as noted by the court's opinion) that the State of Iowa may not require any church to (Christian or civil) marry any couple, opposite- or same-sex.
To the gay-rights world: You view (civil) marriage as a civil rights issue, a privilege the government has been withholding. You're absolutely right. But please realize there are people who think something very different when you say "marriage", and they are horrified at what you are suggesting. You may not believe in the God they believe in, but please understand that they do.
To everyone on both sides: Let's get some different words, so we can talk about (Christian) marriage and (civil) marriage and not get confused. I would be perfectly willing to change the term we use for (Christian) marriage. It might be better to change both terms, so that the word "marriage" would become a vague archaism. Anyone out there want to neologize?
I might be wrong. If I am, please tell me. But when you do, please tell me what premise or reasoning of mine is wrong. If you think the Iowa Supreme Court is wrong, please tell me what premise or reasoning of theirs is wrong. Especially read section "I" of the opinion (and please cite section and page numbers; it'll help me to see where I failed to catch a flaw in reasoning).
* Divorce, infidelity, and other expressions of sin by imperfect humans notwithstanding.
** Therefore, I will try to be clear which sort of marriage I am talking about.
*** Extraordinary situations such as abuse or infidelity call for wisdom. The common knee-jerk red herring argument that this would demand that a spouse stay in a dangerous situation is superficial and offensive.
**** The church I attend gives enormous attention to premarital counseling. This has been very helpful to me, personally, as well as being generally laudable.
***** With the caveat, of course, that the contracts should be legal, equitable, and entered into without duress.
****** Other religions may view marriage in much the same way. Substitute as appropriate.
******* Pastor and friend, as a matter of fact. Also, my wife and I care rather more about the vows we made to each other before God and God's work in joining us together than about the legal document.
******** This doesn't mean never sharing God's truth. But it means not trying to force people to look like you before you'll love them. It also means sharing God's truth in the hope of seeing repentance, not an eagerness for destruction.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Cranking Out the Miles
Nineteen days left until I run my half marathon. It's been ten days since I've run at all.
Ten days ago I did thirteen miles in about two hours, but my hip didn't feel--and hasn't felt--right at all. I diagnosed myself as broken, and decided to try resting it. Without trying it out, it's tough to tell how it's really doing, but it feels better.
So how's a guy supposed to train for a half-marathon while resting his hip?
Well, I have one free weekend between now and race day. ("Free", of course, means that there are three hours that have not yet been claimed.) So my plan is to do a five- to six-mile run in the next day or two. I'll follow that up with thirteen miles on Saturday morning. Then a game of Ultimate ("cross-training") Monday, six miles on Tuesday or Wednesday, and a final thirteen miles on Thursday. The weekend before race day will be mostly stretching, possibly with walks and a short sprint or two.
The Monday of race week is a little more Ultimate (cross-training). The rest of the week is resting and walking to the Tastee-Freez (actually, Parlor City because TF corporate pulled the franchise because this shop used non-corporate mix that was tastier).
Then it's race day. And if my hip behaves itself, go me!
Ten days ago I did thirteen miles in about two hours, but my hip didn't feel--and hasn't felt--right at all. I diagnosed myself as broken, and decided to try resting it. Without trying it out, it's tough to tell how it's really doing, but it feels better.
So how's a guy supposed to train for a half-marathon while resting his hip?
Well, I have one free weekend between now and race day. ("Free", of course, means that there are three hours that have not yet been claimed.) So my plan is to do a five- to six-mile run in the next day or two. I'll follow that up with thirteen miles on Saturday morning. Then a game of Ultimate ("cross-training") Monday, six miles on Tuesday or Wednesday, and a final thirteen miles on Thursday. The weekend before race day will be mostly stretching, possibly with walks and a short sprint or two.
The Monday of race week is a little more Ultimate (cross-training). The rest of the week is resting and walking to the Tastee-Freez (actually, Parlor City because TF corporate pulled the franchise because this shop used non-corporate mix that was tastier).
Then it's race day. And if my hip behaves itself, go me!
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