Overthinking the Marathon...

I recently picked up and read a copy of Ray Charbonneau’s self-published work, Overthinking the Marathon. From the very beginning, the author’s conversational style grabbed me. Every day as he trained for the 2012 Cape Cod Marathon, he “scribbled” out a personal story worth reading. He made me feel like a friend he was sharing an important part of his life with.

Sometimes his tales were filled with wild animals (mostly bunnies). He considered these to be good omens worth mentioning on dozens of occasions.

Ray often talked about his wife’s training for her third marathon. I appreciated the way he spoke of his wife with great respect. His obvious love for her was refreshing in a world where spouses are so often grumping and complaining about each other. He cheered for her as much as she did for him.

There were also plenty of reports on his running club’s outings. He talked about their regular events and the special things they did together. Sometimes he’d miss a run to judge a cooking contest that the group was putting on. Other times, he’d volunteer at a race with others from the club. As a reader, I almost felt like I was a part of the Sommerville Road Runners when the last page was turned.

Ray running in an event

I laughed throughout the book as Ray described the adjustments he made to his shoe inserts. He changed his mind about what he needed more often than I could imagine anyone doing. He’d add a shim here and a wedge there.

The race reports sprinkled throughout the book were as detailed as anyone could ask for. He talked about the joys and successes right along with the aches and pains and disappointments. He was honest about his mistakes and admitted in the end that he probably raced too much in his lead up to the Cape Cod.

Charbonneau has a knack for making running advice interesting and helpful. In my favorite chapter of the entire book, “This I Believe,” he reasoned with his readers that longer-than-marathon runs are necessary for everyone training for a fast marathon. His logic was clear and quite convincing. Here’s just one paragraph worth of his advice.

“Plan to run the extra-long run slower than usual so it doesn’t take too much out of you. Don’t worry about the time. Your only goal is to put in the distance. Run comfortably; take walking breaks if you want. Stop at a store to get more sports drink, or on a bridge to admire the view.” (Sorry no page numbers on the Kindle. You can look for Thursday, August 16th.)

As a cyclist and runner who loves both sports, I was greatly entertained by Ray’s great dislike of cycling. His tales of woe and of trying out clipless pedals made me smile as I remembered my own plunge into the world of complete attachment to the bike.

The culmination of the book, the high point, was Charbonneau’s post-race report on the Cape Cod Marathon. Throughout the book he’d been working hard to be ready for a Boston qualifying time at the October race. Running with him every mile of the way from the starting line to the finish was a satisfying journey. I’ll let you read the book to find out if he met his BQ goal. I’d hate to ruin the surprise.

Ray and Mike meet before
the 2013 Boston Marathon

Having finished Overthinking the Marathon, I am ready to read another of his books. Right now, I’ve got my eye on Chasing the Runner’s High: My Sixty Million-Step Plan. Just the title makes me want to pick it up and start reading.

(Update: Ray ran in the 2013 Boston Marathon as a guide for a visually impaired runner named Mike. The two of them crossed the finish line in 3:58 (chip time). The time on the clock was 4:05. The pair walked away from the finish area just five to six minutes before the bombs went off.)

GIVEAWAY: Tasha won an eBook copy of "Overthinking the Marathon" on Wednesday, Apri 24, 2013. Thanks to all who read the review. A big thank you goes to Ray for making this giveaway possible.

The ides of April...

Yesterday when I tweeted, "Beware the ides of April," I was thinking about taxes, not the Boston Marathon. I never imagined that I would click around later in the day and see smoke billowing from the buildings near the famous race's finish line. I couldn't have dreamed up the images of collapsed and wounded bodies.

I ran angry this morning. Really angry. My pace doesn't show it. My pace was actually over a minute per mile slower than my last run's. The crazy squiggly lines at the beginning of my run are the only evidence of the ire in my heart. I thought a lot about the cowardly act as I ran this way and that. Then, when I got back to near where I'd begun, an idea struck me. I would run to honor the fallen. The end result can be seen in my GPS map. The mess of angry zigzagging now resembles the smoke from the bombing.

God bless those who have lost loved ones, those who have lost limbs, those who are traumatized. God help those who carried out the bombing.

Exploited towers...

What's the first thing you see when you look at this picture? My guess is you saw a plane about to hit a building. That's not what this picture is about at all. The events of 9-11-01 made you focus on the plane and not on the wire walker traipsing across the void between the two towers.

Philippe Petit, a French man, covered the distance between the north and south towers of the World Trade Center in New York City eight times on August 7, 1974. He spent 45 minutes suspended 450 meters above the ground. He finally stepped off the cable only because the police were going to bring a helicopter in to pluck him off of it. He was afraid the turbulence could dislodge him from his scanty walkway.

Philippe's feat was memorialized in the 2005 film, Man on Wire.

Forgiveness brings healing...

It is with just a little fear and trepidation that I share a bit of my story with you today. I've never shared this part of my life anywhere outside my family and a few close friends. Until recently, I'm sure I would have been terrified by the thought of posting it online. But this part of my story is about God and the healing and freedom he brings, so I can't keep it quiet any longer.

Growing up, my family moved around a lot as my dad changed jobs. I went to five elementary schools, two middle schools and two high schools. I normally found friends quickly at a new school, but when we moved from a small town in Iowa to Sacramento, California, between my seventh and eighth grade years, things were different. I don’t know what it was, but I found new relationships difficult after this move. Maybe I was overwhelmed by the big city atmosphere or maybe it was because middle school is just plain awkward. Whatever the reason, it took longer to find peers to associate with.

Into that void stepped a man who, upon coming to our church, took charge of the youth group. He voluntarily spent time with us, teaching our Sunday School class and organizing fun events. I took to this man and we became friends.  We did lots of stuff together. He came to the school from time to time and took me out to lunch at a nearby fast food restaurant.

After a few months, this man’s mom kicked him out of her house. That’s what he told us anyway. I’m not sure now whether he was telling the truth or not. To make a long story short, my parents allowed him to move into our house.

Shortly after he came under our roof, he began visiting me at night when everyone was a sleep. He would ask if he could do things that I wasn’t sure he should do, but I was afraid of losing his friendship so I went along with his requests. For a little over a year, I was sexually and emotionally abused by this man in my own home. Whenever he sensed I was getting uncomfortable with what he was doing, he would threaten to kill himself if I ever told anyone what he was doing.

Finally, one day after he had asked me if he could do something that I found repulsive, I told my mom what had been taking place. That ended the sexual abuse, but didn’t quite completely end the emotional abuse. The last thing he said to me was, “I’ll come back for you when you turn 18.” That one sentence caused me to live in fear for years.

Less than a year after the end of this relationship, we moved back to Iowa. Just after we arrived, I went to summer camp and there, for some reason, I decided it was time to tell someone outside of my family what had happened. My poor counselor was shocked and not exactly sure what to do with this kid that kept yelling angrily, over and over, “I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!”

For the next two or three years, I lived with seething anger that I kept buried in my heart. Repressing it led to depression. Fear was there too. I was 18 and I was terrified when I thought that this man might reenter my life.

During the summer between my sophomore and junior years at college, I ran across these words of Jesus in Matthew 6:14-15, “But if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” I realized I was in serious trouble with God. I had not forgiven my abuser. With the Holy Spirit’s help, I chose to do so that day. That choice was the beginning of my healing.

Over the next few years, God brought a series of people into my life, people who counseled with me and prayed with me till I was set free from my anger. I remember the day I knew I had what God wanted for me. I prayed and the burden was lifted. I was no longer angry. The chains of bitterness and hatred that had wrapped themselves around my heart were broken. I was free!

I am grateful to God for all the work he has done in my heart. I want nothing more than for each of you to find the freedom I have found in Jesus. Today, when I think of the man who molested me, I pray for him. I want nothing less than his presence with me in heaven. I pray that God will save him through faith in Jesus and set him free from his sin so that he and I can worship before God’s throne together for eternity.

The cautious return...

The day after I quit Facebook, Twitter and other social networks at God's command, I received notification from the library that a book I'd asked them to purchase had arrived. I went straight to 401 S. Jackson and picked up their freshly acquired copy of @stickyJesus. I laughed at the irony of it all. Here I was holding a copy of a book designed to help Jesus' followers serve him and live out their faith online and I had just left the world of status updates and tweets. Still, I thought it was an interesting topic, so I took it home.

Over the next several evenings and a Saturday, I read @stickyJesus from cover to cover. I was encouraged by the authors' call to missionary service in cyberspace. I was confronted by their warnings against pride and self-promotion. That was me. I wasn't online to show Jesus to the world. I was there to draw people to Mike Neifert (or openmikey, my most frequent username). I prayed a lot as I read. I confessed my sin to God.

I finished the book in a few short days. It's message sat there in my heart. I continued to pray. Then something unexpected happened. God released me to return to Facebook and Twitter. I was shocked and just a little suspicious. Was this "me" giving "me" permission or was it really God? I'm really good at rationalization. (We all are, aren't we?) I didn't rejoin the surfing throngs right away. I waited and developed a safety net. I did not want to return to my previous state of obsession. I did not want to become distracted from face-to-face relationships by their pixelated versions.

I went to Google and typed in: parental control software. I found a review of five products on ilovefreesoftware.com and chose Norton Online Family from the list. I set up my account, added a "child" named mikey, then called one of my accountability partners from Celebrate Recovery. I gave him the login information for my Norton account and asked him to monitor my internet usage.

Now, every time I log in, I am warned: "Norton Family is running on this computer and is currently supervising activity associated with this Windows account." Some of you might find that stifling. I have found it to be quite freeing. I have a "watchdog" in place to keep me away from trouble.

I am thankful to God for his leading in my life. His provision of a close friend is awesome. I am accountable to both. And now I'm accountable to you too. Feel free to ask me about my "online" life anytime you see me more frequently than it seems wise. If I'm posting frivolous stuff or self-promoting things, call me on it. I want to serve God and live righteously online. I want to show God-given self-control and wisdom.

Lying is lying...

Perhaps you've been watching the NCAA tournament this weekend. I've watched a game or two. I love it that CBS (and it's partners) have made every game available online. That means I can catch all the action without subscribing to cable. I refuse to pay good money for rotten TV. (Update: the free stuff ends after four hours. It was too good to be true.)

So I logged on for the first time yesterday to watch Wichita State beat Gonzaga. Well, I didn't know at the time that was going to be the result. I was just going to see what happened. During a commercial break I was treated to a Coke Zero commercial or two that made excuses for making brackets and watching games during work hours. The ads made it sound like it was patriotic to cheat your boss. (It's not, by the way.)

Then today I discovered the "Boss Button" on the site. I was curious, so I clicked on it. Immediately my screen was transformed. It looked like I was working on email. This "Boss Button" is designed to make it easier to trick your boss and do what you want on his time. Ugh!

I know all of this is in jest, but as one who has struggled with keeping my focus on work during work hours I find it less than funny. Lying is lying. It should not be encouraged by anyone. I encourage all my readers to give a day's work for a day's pay.

"And whatever you do,whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him." (Colassians 3:17)