Airport Outing

Roundabouts and cars traveling in the opposite lane confused me as I first exited London's Heathrow International Airport. Many drivers from the States have encountered similar issues. However, I found myself navigating the roads just outside the airport on foot. We flew overnight and immediately after exiting the terminal I changed clothes and lit out for a run. Of course, the smart thing would have been to jog around the car park for a half an hour or so, but that's not my style.

Shortly after I made the harrowing cross of the high-speed, multiple-lane roads I found a goat trail and followed it fairly sheepishly. Factually, goats are far less likely to blindly follow like sheep. Goats are prone to explore, and like my four-legged ruminant friends I was eager to venture along paths unknown. What a great choice!

I found a marvelous trail along a quiet canal brimming with mallards and handful of horses. I cruised through fabulous open fields where spring brought vibrant blossoms, butterflies and wild rabbits. A couple of miles in I joined a running/bike path nestled along copious amounts of green space. I have delighted in paths like these in many cities and countries. When I finally turned back up to the roadway, town names like Spelthorn and Bellfont served as reminders I was in the Queen's England. I feel certain tomorrow's outing in Morocco will be overwhelmingly distinct.

Run when you travel.

Tom

Better Late Than Never

Happy Earth Day! Based on precedent this post will not show up on the blog until some time in May. Believe it or not I work on a piece for the blog every day. Editing creates the roadblock and accounts for most of the backlog. Nonetheless, I hope your Earth Day was a particularly green one. Our fragile little planet has the unique characteristic among its neighbors of being able to sustain life.

In sustaining life we all know that exercise is important to our well being. Likewise taking care of our environment will have a positive impact on our food, air and water. Earth Day isn’t a day to feel guilty or beat yourself up for what you’re not doing to promote a healthy world and lifestyle. It’s a day to celebrate creation. So look around and enjoy the wonders of living things as you are out for a walk, bike, run or whatever your form of exercise.


Celebrate life. Celebrate the Earth.


Tom

Morning in Morocco

Morocco 4-3-11




A seven o'clock wake up ring would seem late any other time. After just under six hours of sleep and roughly the same the night before on a plane, “completely rested” falls short of a good descriptor. Nonetheless, running shoes had to be strapped on along with other staples like a stopwatch, MP3 player and the newest addition to my running ensemble, an ID bracelet. Just for fun the hotel name and address were ripped from an envelope and tucked into a key holder laced on top of shoes, a little something that comes with age and experience.

All geared up, it was time to head out into the lively streets of Marrakech. Alive indeed! Bland brown walls bordered the narrow street, which looked more like an alley. Left seemed as good as any direction, especially without a plan or knowing anything about the locale. A stream of women walked purposefully, perhaps to the market or square, and both held appeal to me. Along the way, just as in cities, towns and villages all over the globe, bakers prepared and delivered daily bread during the early morning hour.

A boys’ soccer team out for a run moved stealthily on the opposite side of the road. Cars, taxis, busses, donkeys, bikes, scooters and pedestrians jockeyed for space in the crowded lanes, reserved for the bold. Even with special attention given to each twist and turn of the route, a slight bend managed to go unnoticed on the return trip, adding more than half a mile to the run, along with welcome sights and pleasant memories.

Safe and sweaty delight reigned upon my return to the hotel. Time to shower and get ready for round two of Marrakech.

Tom

Adventure Racing?????

Lee did it again. It was Lee who talked me into running a race on a bike trail, Battle at Big Creek. Now he has convinced me to register to run the Twisted Ankle half marathon. Perhaps I'm overly protesting. The truth is I'm excited about the race. It will be a completely new event for me, and Lee, too. I have been out for daily runs in the state park that will host the race and know it to be very rugged terrain.

Here we are mid-winter and it's time to train for the race. More than increasing mileage, I need to run on hills, mountains and uneven surfaces with some regularity. Sounds like more fun than the law allows. I know it's what has to be done. I've started mapping out days for long runs, as well as planning runs in hilly root bound places and a couple of hour and half trips up to the site of the actual route.

Now with all the logistics in place I need to get about the business of running.

Run new races.

Tom

Post Script-

I wrote this piece many weeks ago. The race has come and gone. Oddly enough neither one of us actually participated. Ah, the best laid plans…….

Rapture of Running

American religion in general, and Southern Baptist in particular, find definition in personal experience, especially transformational ones. I have actually walked on the Biblical Road to Damascus (see right), yet have not had the blinding experience as described by the Apostle Paul, and countless priests, ministers and preachers. Oh, how I have longed to be slain in the Spirit for the gross majority of my life. I've been on somewhat of a religious quest for what feels like a lifetime, touring, reading, praying and hoping for lighting to strike and provide illumination and deep abiding understanding of God and all things holy.

Existentialist Soren Kierkegaard and Saint Augustine, the Catholic church's great Bishop of Hippo, encountered conversions that as a younger man I likened to the shattering experience of Paul based on my socially constructed reality at the time. However, both of these influential Christian thinkers actually described their intellectual acceptance of Christ and of Christianity, rather than a spasmodic action of the body culminating with movements of rapt agitation in ecstasy.

Upon reading Harold Bloom's definition of American Religion, the one noted above, I reckoned I've been predisposed to an idea that may or may never come to fruition. Unfortunately, in the process I have terribly underrated the amazing experiences of grace and wonder already afforded me. Running by the Nile River, Niagara Falls and even storm water runoff has and continues to provoke a sense of spiritual awareness. I truly felt a communion with divine at Mauna Kea, Machu Picchu, and atop a small mountain in the High Atlas Range of Morocco.

I write here in this blog week after week, and upon reflection these postings are like little sermons. To a degree, I've entered the priesthood of the believer through running. I've exchanged the dogma of religion for a full body and mind experience. Though no shaking, twirling, or jerking of the body or uncontrolled utterances have taken place for me, running provides intimacy with God.

Run for spirituality.

Tom

Southern Recipe

Chickamauga to Milledgeville, Athens to Summerville, Indian Springs to Blue Ridge--Joel, Shannan and I have enjoyed many day trips in the great state of Georgia. We’ve even ventured across state lines into Tennessee and Alabama. Our recipe for success includes meeting early for me to run and Shannan and Joel to take a walk. Afterwards we often have a lingering southern breakfast filled with calories and high cholesterol at a local restaurant.

Next we head out for the cultural bit of our day by taking in a museum exhibit or visiting an historic site. Sometimes we just putz around in new places. Shannan generally plans our agenda and wherever we go we always have a grand old time. We’ve followed the Margaret Mitchell trail from Jonesboro to Marietta, spent a day in the largest kangaroo preserve outside of Australia, logged miles and miles on the Silver Comet Trail, trekked up and down Kennesaw Mountain and have experienced many points in between.

Rain in early March caused us to postpone a trip to Brasstown Bald, Georgia’s highest peak. I really wanted to run up the mountain. We rescheduled two weeks later. Rain was in the forecast, but we tested Mother Nature, and lost. It poured all morning long. Still we drove to the base of the mountain trail.

As it turns out, despite the rain, we had a magnificent day. We toured around North Georgia and even slipped into Murphy, NC. Hiking or running up Brasstown Bald couldn’t have been more fun than our time together. Make no mistake, we will not be denied. Someday we’ll return to Brasstown. Having written all this I think I left out the most important ingredient in our recipe for success. A big dose of friendship!

Venture out. Take a friend.

Tom

Live Life

More than once I have reflected on life following a funeral, and posted the thoughts on this blog site. I have also written a piece about running in cemeteries. Recently, we attended the funeral of Jane Sailers, a woman I knew, and who was a dear friend of Shannan's. We agreed the service was one of the most beautiful and moving celebrations of life we have ever experienced. We carried the joy of life as we exited Emory University's Cannon Chapel to a magnificent spring day.

Life is an amazing thing that we often struggle to put into words. We all have things that bring joy and meaning to life. As you know, exercise is one of those things for me. I found myself working out a bit harder this afternoon. Many conscious and subconscious things played a role in that, I'm sure.

I thought back on Jane’s funeral. Many of the University's elite, past and present, attended. During the first year of The Streak I was a graduate student and spent numerous hours in the very same Cannon Chapel. I mused on all the people sitting around me who had a hand in changing the course of my life. Steve Kraftchik, an administrator from Candler School of Theology sat in front of me. He was on the committee that awarded me a scholarship. Max Miller was there as well. He was the man who first took me out of the United States, and taught me how to do research via travel. Wayne Lord and Bishop Bevel Jones sat behind me. These two men gave me all the pragmatic information and guidance a father passes to his son.

It was good to be back at Emory, especially in Cannon Chapel. I found it moving to listen to reflections about Jane's life, and most of all, delightful to be in a community of respect and love. Those who spoke made it clear Jane lived life in a full and complete manner. I want so much from life. I'm sure the same holds true for you. We all know there is a finite end. Let's not let our time slip away.

Live deeply.

Tom

Sacred Ground

Running in cemeteries seems odd to some. I struggled with the concept years ago, but have come to be more at ease with it. When an opportunity arises I tread lightly, recognizing it as sacred ground. I stay on paths, paved or otherwise. I once took a short turn through Arlington Cemetery, located in our nation's capital, and found it to be a moving experience.

We have a cemetery called Arlington in Atlanta; however, it shares only the name with the military graveyard in Washington, D.C. What Atlanta's Arlington does hold is the remains of my mother and both my maternal grandparents. In races and daily runs I have passed this cemetery on numerous occasions. I have not yet run inside its beautifully manicured property.

One need not be a psychologist, armchair or professional, to know that my own mortality and sensitivity to the loss of loved ones keep me outside the gates of this particular cemetery. Truthfully, I have only visited Arlington once when not part of a funerary service. Last month marked the seventeenth year of my mother's passing. Perhaps the best way to remember her and my grandparents, to honor their lives, to thank them for the gift of life and to celebrate life itself, is to go and run there.

Run and remember.

Tom