What 15 Years Can Teach You

Recently I was added to a facebook page for my graduating class.  It was created for us all to discuss ideas about our upcoming 15 year reunion. What followed was a series of surreal events:

First, I had friend requests from people from the group who I had no idea who they were!  That wouldn’t be surprising if I had graduated in a large class, but I graduated in a class of 72 people. I should have remembered all of them.  But I found myself racking my brain trying to picture faces to go with these unfamiliar names.  So I did what any normal person would do, I dug out my yearbook… The first few pages had me asking what the heck were we wearing??  Before that moment, I would have told you fashion hasn’t changed that much since 2000.  It’s not like we were donning the bright colors and poofy hair of the 80s or even the grunge look of the early 90s.  But it was in no way similar to current trends; how have I not noticed that over the years?  Next came the list of achievements next to each of our formal pictures.  I didn’t remember doing half that stuff!  I certainly didn’t think I placed in the National French Contest. I hated French.  Then there were senior wills and ‘most likely to’s.  I didn’t remember mine but found it amusing that my peers voted me ‘most likely to marry Mark’ because 4 years later I did, in fact, marry Mark.  And then there’s the senior survey page.  We voted ‘Baby got Back’ as best song (and considering Nicki Minaj recently sampled it, I guess it is pretty timeless).  We voted Mia Ham as best athlete(she’s still an inspiration) and Seinfeld as best TV show (they’re still showing reruns) so all in all I guess we had decent taste but I don’t recall casting those votes or discussing any of that with any of my friends.  As I made my way through the senior section of the book it became more and more apparent that I only remember about 5% of my entire senior year!

Then I skipped over to the cross country and track pages.  I didn’t remember my senior year XC team being so big. And I didn’t remember my track team being so small.  And I had completely forgotten that we used to train in boxers! (yes, before you could buy running shorts, we figured out that the most comfortable training attire was rolled up boys boxer underwear).  Shockingly, I didn’t remember most of the athletes in the pictures either!  And that’s when I realized that most of my memories from these 2 sports (which shaped who I would become) came from my younger years; I remember the older runners who I looked up to far more vividly than I remember the younger runners who looked up to me.  I dug out a cross country team picture from my freshman year. I can tell you every runner’s name, what times they ran, what their personalities were like, and why I looked up to each of them.  But in looking at my senior year picture it was completely different, who were these runners? 

My little trip down memory lane taught me 2 valuable lessons: First, in another 15 years I will be 48 (which isn’t old) and I will not remember most of what has happened in my life this year. So stressing and worrying about any day to day responsibilities seems so absurd and ridiculous that I’ve had no choice but to lighten up and try to enjoy more the few(very few) things I know I will remember.  Secondly, the legacy you carry has far more to do with the people who inspired you than it does the people you try to inspire.  I still regularly think about those older runners from freshman year; I still regularly think about my favorite teachers and coaches. I still try to live up to the standards that they set. I don’t often think about kids I taught and coached 10 years ago and I don’t even remember my younger teammates.  But maybe somewhere out in the world there are younger former teammates and former students and runners who regularly think about me.  So I’m going to keep chasing after those awesome leaders from 20 years ago who still inspire me; I’m going to keep trying to step into the footprints that they’ve left on the path, and though I don’t look back to see if there is anyone behind me stepping into my footprints, maybe, just maybe, there’s a kid whose legacy is to chase after me.

Fearless

Most of my cross country or track seasons, there is a theme. And it never fails, the theme I set for the kids ends up being a mechanism for growth in my own life.  I never intend for that to be the case, I don’t try to create it for myself nor do I expect or even look for the theme manifesting in my own life… yet it always does. In fact, at this point I think I may be a little more careful of what theme I pick (though to be fair, most years, it’s not so much me picking it as it is God revealing it.  And I guess I will try to continue to be obedient in that.)  But after this year I’m a little wary…  This track season’s theme was ‘fearless.’  And while I was calling my runners to be fearless in their training and racing; I myself was being thrust into facing a much more real and personal fear:  a fear of inadequacy.

So the timeless fear-overcoming strategies involve encountering the fear in the most intense ways (i.e. fear heights – you should bungie jump; fear spiders – you should hold a tarantula) and that is essentially what happened to me.  In the past I’ve never really found myself in a situation where I couldn’t at least be competent (if not good) at whatever I was needing to do, be it school, sports, my job, or even being a good sister/daughter/wife.  And to be honest I’ve never really pursued something that I didn’t have some confidence in my abilities for.  But here recently I’ve been what I can only best describe as “flailing.”  I hadn’t drowned, but it sure felt like I was waving my arms about and not helping matters in anyway. Sinking felt like it could happen at any moment….  Due to circumstances outside of my control, I was put in a teaching situation I didn’t feel equipped for.  I found myself clueless as to how to manage some of my CFO duties at my gym.  Things came up in my family and personal life that I was completely unprepared for.  And all of those were preventing me from coaching at the level my extremely talented runners deserved.  I was working 15-16 hour days; I even pulled a few all nighters, something I’d never done before in my entire life.  My friends thought I was mad at them; my mom often wondered if I was alive since she wasn’t hearing from me like usual.  Yet the more I tried within my own strength to juggle all my responsibilities and to perform well, the more obvious it became how inadequate I was.  However, I’m still here.  And in the same way that a spider-fearer holds a spider and doesn’t die, or a height-fearer bungie jumps and doesn’t die… I was completely submerged in my inadequacies and yet I’m still here.  And that’s really what overcoming fear is: being in the very midst of the fear and realizing you’re ok, realizing there was never anything to fear in the first place. 

The truth is we’re all inadequate. And the truth is we’re still all ok.  That’s what the cross represents.  You have no reason to fear, not to fear spiders or heights, and not to fear inadequacies, failure, perceptions, or anything else, not even death…  because Jesus overcame death.  So if you feel like you’re flailing, or even sinking… trust me; you’re ok.  He’s got you. 

The 2014 Region Poem

In keeping with tradition, the meet motivation for the Region Championships is a poem.  And as usual it contains all the little nuances and sayings that marked the season, the inside jokes, the references, and even the tone of the group.  I could go on and on about how this team has impacted me, but it would never do it justice.  So I feel like I'm just kind of throwing this out there knowing no one will really get it if they weren't part of the family. Nevertheless, here it is:

Family

                  One year ago, I formulated what would be our story:

                  Dreams of domination and state-championship glory.

                  Starting with the summer; it had to be different:

                  250 miles was my new requirement.

                  I threw the number out to my masculine gang

                  But to my pleasant surprise, I had girls that could hang.

                  So then I upped my rigor and altered my workout ranks

                  What used to be level tens were now easy eights.

                  I even dished out tasks that I doubted would be met.

                  But you would just puff out your chests and say: ..‘Bet!’

                  What I was requiring was a new breed of too-much;

                  I was trying so hard to make it about a State meet, won on guts.

                  But what you guys decided to make it was so much more ‘clutch.

                  You, my rebels, you usurped me!!……Wait……….What…….?

                  Yes. And my counter was 400s: so many would I add

                  To make it like death. But you guys fought for your comrades.

                  And that’s really the light that set you apart:

                  It wasn’t records and trophies that you claimed as your heart.

                  When our Captains considered the legacy they’d build

                  A winning team wouldn’t suffice, so they created a Guild!

                  Not just a place where you came to run and work

                  But a place for friends, and laughter, a place to ‘turn up.’

                  This guild would recruit an unlikely manager

                  And help him discover he’s a world-class pacer.

                  They would see past PRs; all here had roles to play

                  And we were all respected for our own ‘Ninja-Way.’

                  This guild took kids that others had rejected

                  And gave them new dads who would always protect them.

                  This was a guild that stuck by you despite your worst mistakes,

                  Forming bonds that would prove impossible to break.

                  A guild that surrounded a Coach when she couldn’t run

                  And fought for her sanity through their ministry of fun,

                  Stuck by her through her darkest, and most defeated hours

                  Taught her that her running-résumé was not the source of her power

                  Most importantly, this guild never put winning above

                  Their most valued precept: their unconditional Love.

                  That love became the secret rule of their own type of alchemy:

                  Like lead into gold: a team turned into a guild, that guild became Family.

8 months injured... and worth it.

The coolest part about having communion with God is the freedom to have real, (lay it all out there) raw, conversations with Him.  And cooler still, that He responds.  So today I am simply sharing a conversation I had with Him regarding the last 8 months of being injured and not being able to do what I loved. The first part is what I said, the second part is His response.

Eight months ago you took it from me!

And yes, I know that’s bad theology.

But that’s what it felt like:

That you intentionally caused this plight.

Maybe I just needed someone to blame

For this stupid crack that left me lame.

You’re a big enough God; you could take it…

My kids couldn’t, so all this time I’ve had to fake it

With them I had to try for normalcy

But with you: no, I wasn’t going to stop being angry!

Were you ever going to answer why?

Was your intentional silence then there to signify

That you didn’t care about what I had lost

When you’re the only one who understood the true cost?

What did you think when you saw me in pain?

You knew what would happen if I couldn’t train!

You knew I’d have anxiety attacks and depression.

You even knew I’d lose our times of connection!

So what was I supposed to think?

How could you care when you knew what was at stake?

And what was with that reprieve in May… a tease?

Three runs, then done, again, despite all of my pleas.

And it wasn’t just losing communion with you.

My best friend, my team: those are my kids, losing that too!

Worse than not running was no long-run conversations

You know that’s why I love my occupation!

This one linchpin removed and it all becomes worthless

You couldn’t have meant for me to lose my purpose!

I know that’s not who you really are

And I know you don’t just observe from afar.

I’m Sorry. Despite the way that I’ve raged and moped

I know what’s real; I know your truth, Coach.

I know you want to remove these limits.

I know it’s not your nature to inhibit

My gifts, gifts that you gave me

So why take so very long to save me

From this physical suffering, the emotional misery?

I’m your child, not some servant on the periphery!

You have to protect me; that’s your job!

So please, please, Daddy… make this stop.

Julie, I do everything with my love-infused intention.

And finally, my stubborn child, you’re ready to listen.

All this time you thought it was because you ran too

But they don’t follow the runner; they follow you.

A physical act is not your identity.

The physical realm doesn’t teach my sovereignty.

You know this: atoms follow spirit.

And I need not your body for me to fulfill it.

Were those secrets of the universe not my truth?

You’ve forgotten your name!  ‘Julie’ means ‘youth.’

You are not your body. Running taught you that.

And though you don’t need it, I’m still giving it back.

You thought you loved it before. But just wait and see

Now every step will remind you of Me:

Of what I sacrificed so you could live.

Now you understand just how much I would give

For My kids to race this life with me along side

And how important it is that I’m there every stride.

That anguish you felt being torn from your team:

Now you understand why I had to redeem

The whole world, for they are all my children.

And like you, I would not accept our division.

So I resurrect you, Julie. Your Christ-era has begun.

And this is the truth you will carry on all future runs.

My Dead Period Journal

Dead Period: 2 weeks every summer where coaches are not permitted to hold practices, open facilities, or even have contact with their athletes.

While I both understand and even support this institution, I dread it and count down the days until it’s over. It exists because many coaches would never allow their athletes a break, would never allow them to attend a church camp or family vacation, would require kids to give up so much of what being a kid is.  And though I expect my kids to run 5-6 days a week all summer, I would never require them to be at a practice 5 days a week all summer (some of my runners probably wouldn't believe that statement), but despite my high standards, I do recognize the importance of a break and being a kid with no obligations. That being said, while many athletes are relishing their sleeping-in or lazy time these 2 weeks, and while many coaches are enjoying no responsibilities or the break from the annoying kids on their team for these 2 weeks, I (and I suspect others like me) have a different experience on dead period. For those of us in love with coaching and who are blessed with teams that operate more like a family than a sports team, the weeks feel more like this:

Day 1: The Odd Silence.

A whole day where my phone never buzzes from a kid asking for a workout, reporting a good run(or bad run), notifying me of a new ailment/injury, or asking about the next practice. A whole day where I'm not sending out a reminder or checking on a runner. A whole day where I have no workout to write and no data to analyze.  It's on this first day of dead period that this odd silence is most obvious and that my usual XC noise is most missed.  It's so strange how big the silence feels. I walk around my house, not sure what to do with myself.

Day 3: I Need My Stress Relief Back.

This turned out to be a day with way too much stress(personal and professional). Usually running(which I can’t do right now with a fractured femur) is my main way to relieve stress, but a close second is the reprieve of coaching a practice. In a practice, all my focus is on the kids and the task at hand. For 2 hours I'm so involved mentally with the workout that any thought that would normally be worrisome just doesn't come up. The unease of having to do or deal with something that I don't want to do or deal with is on pause, because for those moments, I'm doing what I love and pouring everything into it. Since I haven't been able to run for 6 months, it's been coaching that has offered me the most stress relief. All these heavy things that plague my mind today... They would be so much lighter if I could have just coached my team this morning.

Day 4: When’s The Last Time I Laughed?

One of my favorite traits of all human traits is a sharp wit...not superficial humor, but that kind of clever remark that only the most intelligent and creative among us can contrive. I married the wittiest man I know. And I'm willing to bet I laugh way more than the average person. But Mark doesn't get all the credit for that: because year after year I get a XC team with some of the wittiest teenagers around. Right now, I actually can't remember a practice where I didn't laugh, and not a polite or required laugh, but a bona-fied-head-tilted-back I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that laugh. They continually surprise me with comments and banter that's refreshing and intelligently hilarious. (Yes they're teenagers and many times they are inappropriate, and yes I'll admit I sometimes still can't help but laugh when they are) How many people can say that they are guaranteed to laugh every day at their job? Not many; I'm quite blessed. And here on day 4 of dead period, I find myself missing whatever laughs I could be gleaming joy from right now. 

Day 5: Dead Discussions

This morning one of my former runners asked me for my address because she is sending out wedding invitations. It was just 5-6 years ago that while on many a run together, she and I were in deep discussions on the potentiality of her future soul mate, what makes relationships great, being spiritually ready to meet ‘the one.’ And now those conversations have come full circle. She is about to marry a wonderful man of God.  I'm reminded of how many discussions I have with my runners over their 4 years with me that have nothing to do with running. Conversations about relationships, purpose, character, leadership, spiritual practices, life in general...These are far more important topics than training and running. These are what actually help direct lives. Today I miss these conversation opportunities. Dead period is supposed to keep us from training athletes in the disciplines of our sport for 2 weeks, but an unfortunate consequence is that, at least for these 2 weeks, it also prevents us from training humans in the disciplines of life.

Day 6: I Just Want To Run!

After yet another follow-up appointment and yet another round of X-rays, I’m given the news that my femoral stress fracture is still stalled in its healing. I’m discouraged, angry, depressed, losing hope.  When it comes to dealing with not being able to run, I've had good days, bad days, and hell days in the last 6 months. Today I came close to saying ‘f*** it, I’m running anyway, I don’t care anymore.’ Yes, that’s irrational, and yes I would have run on a broke bone; I would have welcomed the pain for the chance to experience the freedom of moving my legs fast even if for just a few minutes. Today was a hell day; and though I am offered consolation from friends and family, I can’t help but desperately want to be with my running team right now.  I know that it’s some of them who would have true empathy.  Some of them actually fathom what this would feel like. In the last 6 months it has been these teenage runners who have given me the most encouragement, support, and even accountability.  I didn’t walk out the door to run today because of them, because I have to be their example, and because they wouldn’t want me to hurt myself more.

Day 8: Mother Hen

I made it through the first week before going all mother hen in my head.  Despite my commonplace claims of having no maternal instincts, I have to admit that what mothering inclinations I do have get directed at my runners.  Today is mother hen day, where I start wondering and worrying: how are they doing? Are they healthy? are they running? are they hanging out? has anything major happened in their lives? those that have been on mission trips, how have they grown spiritually? I want to check in with them sooooo bad. 

Day 10: Gratefulness

When my day begins with something that is in line with my purpose on the earth (teaching/coaching), the day turns out so much better.  It’s true what they say about walking in your purpose giving you an abundant and happy life. These are the only 2 weeks out of the year where I have no class to teach or team to coach any day and so there is a noticeable negative difference in my attitude and outlook. Today I had to transmutate my emotional states of negativity, boredom, and meaninglessness.  The best way I know to do that is mindful thankfulness: simply remembering to be grateful can change a whole paradigm.  So this dead period, I am grateful for the other 50 weeks a year; I am grateful for a team so awesome, that I miss them this much; I am grateful for captains and leaders who I trust to take care of the family in my absence;  And I am grateful that dead period is almost over!

Day 12: 2 More Days

It’s almost over, and I know I can make it. And as I think about Saturday, when we can have a practice, one would think that a coach like me would be scheming up some killer workout to see who trained on dead period and who was lazy. (If I had written the post-dead-period workout on the first day of dead period, that’s what it would have been) But instead now all I really want is a team run. I just want to reunite with the family and run(bike in my case) easy and talk and catch up. We can train hard next week. It has become glaringly obvious that this is what I miss most; not the challenge of writing innovative workouts, not the pride of seeing them perform so well.  I don’t miss their talent; I simply miss them, this group of runners that I love like they were my own children.