Apr 29, 2009

FML instead of tears

a little post in similar fashion to the bandwagon FML movement...

i cry when i get frustrated. when i was in the 5th grade and just learning to play the trumpet, trying to hit the high 'c' note was brutally challenging. i would practice and practice and yet i  could not reach that bloody note; so i'd cry. from 8th to 11th grade math was horribly difficult for my artistically created mind. no matter the amount of tutoring i received i was completely unable to comprehend the absurdity of 'x' and 'y' and all those stupid theorems; which triggered my green eyes to produce a brilliant display of waterworks. i can't sleep on planes. when i flew to malaysia several years ago with a group of people for a 10 day mission trip in kuala lumpur my tired eyes and weary body would not allow me to enter into a much needed slumber. the boy i was traveling with was sitting next to me and he was fast asleep. i wanted to be him so badly. actually i wanted him to wake up and recognize how miserable i was and console my frustrated exhaustion. instead i entered into a wicked fight against my tears. it was me vs. them and i used every crafty punch i could think of to keep them from pouring forth victoriously. FML.

since the first grade i have been running. i love everything about running. unfortunately, my body does not react to the sport the same way my heart does. for years i've battled with shin splints. four years ago i ran a half marathon as a part of my full marathon training but i demolished my knee so i was never able run the full 26.2 mile race. a couple years later i ran the twin cities full marathon and after that i was out for months due to another knee injury. now here i am training for my second full marathon and wrestling with the frustrations of yet a third knee injury. FML. knowing that i cry out of frustration i want to refrain from doing so this time around, so in effort to keep the corners of my eyes nice and dry, i write this seemingly insignificant blog post.

in the beginning of this training i was out for two full weeks because of achilles tendonitis. that was probably one of the most painful wounds i've ever endured in all my years of running. miraculously however, god fully healed the damage. it was foolish to think that my body woudl surrender to my stubbornness and let me get away with abusing it day in and day out because  now my knee is rattling and crying out in anguish. sometimes i think that god uses my body to teach me valuable lessons... oy, FML.

it is tempting for me to draw a sense of worth from my joy in running. i have to be uncomfortably transparent for a moment and let you, my readers, know that there is a large portion of my ego that bubbles over when i tell people i am running a marathon. to put it bluntly i feel pretty freaking bad ass when people ask, "wait, how many miles is a marathon?" to where i fan my peacock feathers and reply proudly, "26.2". lord have mercy. i think that god is trying to teach me to find my value in him and him alone. actually i don't think that, i know that. the fact of the matter is i am not a runner. that is not who i am. it is only a passion, a joy, a source of rest in my life as a disciple of christ. 

i even had a dream last night regarding my dangeous stubbornness. in my dream i visited the doctor to ask about my knee. when i told the doctor what the problem was, she stared me straight in the eye and said, "stop running now. you cannot run any longer or you will completely ruin your knees. stop." my response to her was a very childish, "no." seriously, a dream??? FML. i thought that i learned this lesson of proper placing of self worth years ago. i'm pretty sure i did. true there are moments when i can puff my overcoat of arrogance, but for the most part i am incredibly intentional about submitting before the lord and laying my running on the alter of sacrifice. i guess there is more work to be done. one thing i have learned over the years is that god likes to go deep. he does not stop winnowing until he reaches  the foundation of our souls and when he finally is able to touch the deepest parts of our hearts, he begins to mold us and shape us and transform us. i'm not going to cry this time, maybe one of these days i will lay waste my stubborn tendencies and learn. 

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