Rain Race

I ran the Steve's Run 10K race this morning in Michigan. The race starts in downtown Dowogiac. The course runs 6.2 miles down the main street, across a railroad bridge, through a golf course and along dirt trails around the campus of Southwest Michigan College. Steve was a young recent graduate of the college when he died of cancer. He had been the announcer for the Southwest Michigan College Roadrunners. The annual race draws hundreds of people to keep Steve's memory alive and to support the fight against cancer. I registered as a cancer survivor and got a special T-shirt which I wore in the race. (I had prostate cancer surgery last March and I'm recovering well.) The rain fell steadily as I signed in this morning. Rain doesn't slow down a race like this. As long as there is no lightning the race goes on. You just give in and accept that you are going to get soaked and muddy and you are going to enjoy it. I stood under a storefront awning in downtown Dowogiac, dodging the rain while we all waited for the beginning of the race. I met Arvin from Chicago, who declared that running in the rain was better than running in sub-zero windchill and snow in Chicago. Agreed. I heard a couple next to me conversing in German. They switched to English to ask me how the race was set up. They saw volunteers standing in the street holding up signs with times on them: eight minutes; eight minutes thirty seconds; and so on. They knew the purpose of the signs was so you could place yourself in the pack according to the time you thought you'd run. But, they asked, did the signs refer to kilometers or miles? "Miles," I said. They replied that was a little odd since the 5K and 10K races are measured in kilometers. I shrugged and said, "Crazy Americans." They laughed. We lined up in the street. I missed my friend Mark who ran the race with me last year but had to sit out this year due to a sore foot. When the race started we surged down the street, our timing chips setting off a steady beep as we crossed the timing strip at the start line. As I settle into a long run I slip into a meditative state. I focus on the road a few yards in front of me as brief impressions pop up and fade behind me. A man with a boom box playing Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again." A giant American flag rippling overhead from a fire department aerial ladder. An old German shepherd sitting in front of her dog house, barking a slow steady beat, "Woof! Woof! Woof!" just like she's saying "Go! Go! Go!" (She did the same thing last year.) A man with feet as big as Sasquatch plopping down on the asphalt as we negotiate a sharp decline from the railroad bridge. The white lime line on the golf course, guiding us to the woods. The steep hill through the cemetary, where a lot of people fell back. Sasquatch passing me on the left. A volunteer yelling "FIRE UP!!" (which was Steve's old pre-race cry.) Another volunteer uttering a laconic "fire up" as we passed by. (Its all good.) Another volunteer out in the woods wearing a safari hat and holding up a sign that said, "Look out for the zebra crossing." I love the trails the most. Today they were muddy due to the rain. At one fork in the trail you could take the high and dry branch, or the low and muddy branch. I chose low and dirty. Hooray mud! Finally we were out of the woods and did the last two miles on straight and flat roads. I picked up the pace for the final mile, stretching out my stride. When I turned the last corner and the finish line came in sight I sprinted. I finished in 54 minutes 40 seconds, a time that pleased me. A volunteer handed me a wooden tongue depressor with my place written on it. Just like old high school cross country days. As I chomped on a bananna after the race, I celebrated with several friends: Jim from work; Mark and Jamie and Arvil from South Bend; Arvin from Chicago; Mark from Wakarusa; and Gary from the Two Rivers Runnings Club. It was a good day to be a cancer survivor.
Keep praying for RETA. Keep the board members in prayer as they make decisions for the ministry.

Storm

I planned to run 12 miles yesterday but stopped at 4. It was too hot to run in the afternoon and by the time it cooled off in the evening, when I went out to run, storms were rolling by. The storms mostly stayed to the south, but some of the lightning got uncomfortably close. Running, and life in general, goes that way. Sometimes you have to adjust.
The skies were blue for the Elkhart County Fair by today. RETA has a booth in commercial building F at the Fair. We were out at the fair this afternoon when a friend, Nate, called out to me. He said that since I'm "running for RETA" he thought to stop by the RETA booth at the fair to learn more about RETA himself. That's great. I hope you'll stop by the RETA booth yourself.

Pass It On

This morning in church we shared testimonies about what we have been doing to take Christ's love out in our community. The youth group went door to door and collected canned food and prayed for people. One adult class put a new roof on a single mom's home. Another class cleaned the apartment of an older woman who needed some help. I talked about how "I'm running for RETA" while they put my blog and the RETA website address on the screen. This evening I went for a slow 3 mile run to wind down after racing yesterday. On the bike path near the golf course I passed by Linda from church. She pointed at me and called out, "Hey, didn't we talk about this in church this morning?" So people are paying attention - not to me, or to the classes in church, but what the Lord is doing in our community and through RETA. It will be interesting to see where this path leads.

Race Day in the Fruit Flats

My son Roger and I ran in the Bristol Fruit Hills Classic 5 K race (3.1 miles) this morning. The temperature was cool, the humidity was low, and I was ready to run. We visted with some friends we ran into: Steve and Kathleen from Elkhart, and Arvil from South Bend. All ages were there, from grade-schoolers to senior citizens. Arvil and I are in the same age group, solidly middle age. He got first for the men in our age group, and I got second. The course was new to all of us. Last year the race was run south of Bristol, up and down steep hills past former fruit orchards. Some people complained about the hills, so this year the race director, Gary, designed a whole new course that was shorter and completely flat. In a race, I like to pick someone who is just a little faster than I am inclined to go, and keep pace with them, to challenge me to move faster during a race. Today's pace-setter got ahead of me after the half-way point, but I still got a time I was very pleased with. When you race you get a "bib tag" which is a piece of paper with your race number and your name on it. You pin it some place visible on the front of your shirt. I also made up a "bib tag" with the logo for "I'm running for RETA" and wore it just above my race number. Pray that my RETA tag will open up some conversations at future races. I need to find some way to laminate the RETA tag because the ink ran with my sweat today. Tomorrow at church a number of Sunday School classes and individuals will share testimonies in worship about projects they are doing to take Christ's love out into the community. I'll be talking about running for RETA to support the RETA ministries. I just want "Running for RETA" to be a tool the Lord can use as He sees best.

Steps

I calculated that my feet hit the pavement over 12,000 times during my 9 mile run last Saturday. I need an odometer on my running shoes.
How many steps do we get in life? God knows. Yes, God knows. We don't know whether the number of our remaining steps are many or few. But we can trust God for each one. We can dedicate each one to Him.
I see that RETA's Annual Golf Outing is August 28th at the Black Squirrel Golf Club in Goshen. Its a fun way to support RETA. Learn more about it at www.retaforlife.com. I suppose you could ride in a golf cart when you play at the golf outing. Or you could walk it. Which would involve a lot of steps.