Going the Distance: becoming a runner

People have been telling me a lot recently how they wish they loved to run like I do. And it would be so easy for them if they just loved it.

Hmm...

Well, the truth is this:

I haven't always been a runner. When I was 10, my 8-year-old sister could beat me anytime, anywhere, in any race easily. So embarrassing. In my 6 years playing soccer I avoided running as much as possible and was always last in drills. In middle school and high school I finally landed on swimming and karate as my sports of choice primarily because no running was involved (plus I could hit people on purpose in Karate and get points for it).

It wasn't like I woke up one morning, and just ran 10 miles screaming "I love running" the entire time. Not even close.

When I first started running in college, I ran one mile maximum at a time, very very slowly. I pretty much hated it. But being a college girl who didn't like to go to the gym and was terrified of having love handles, I needed a way to get exercise during my swimming off season.

Gradually I started to like running, pushing myself to better my times, further my distances. Very very gradually. And finally, after 5 years and an ankle surgery, I ran my first half marathon.

Even when I take a break from running for a few months and then come back to it,  it takes a few agonizing weeks to get back to where I was before. But I'll let you in on a little secret...that thing that has led me to love running:::

I suck it up.

That's right folks. When I'm off on a run and within 1/4 of a mile want to walk all the way home and eat a candy bar instead, I keep going.

I push myself when I hate it, I don't give up. And that is how I get to the good part of running. The part where you feel like you're leaving all of your problems behind, and feel awesome about yourself, and get in shape.

So if you're sitting there thinking you could never be a runner, that is not true. You may never love to run, not everyone does. But if you can push past the starting point and get to the good stuff, it's really very rewarding.

Enough.

http://www.alighthouse.com/godslove.htm

I think I may have written a similar post a while back, but I feel that it is so applicable to my life and the lives of the people I interact with closely, that I just have to share my thoughts on it once again.

I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe that He should be my hope and my life and my portion.

But He isn’t.

23 years later and I am still running my own life (or trying to anyway). Yes, I experiences beautiful moments of fully relying on God’s grace and love, but I would be lying if I told you that is my all day, everyday.

As I go through my days, I feel captive to that all to familiar feeling of “not-enough-ness”. That feeling of doing and doing and doing and still feeling like you are never measuring up.  The feeling that nothing is quite enough. No relationship, no job, no act of service, no amount of weight loss, no talent.

My Jesus may have saved me from this, but I in my sinfulness cling to to control of my own life.

I am reminded of this verse: Romans 7:15

“I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do, I do not do, but what I hate I do.”

Can I get an AMEN?!!!!

This SOOOOO describes my life. I am desperate for Jesus. Desperate for his peace in every moment; Desperate to be more like him. And yet often go running in the opposite direction. I fall short…

Romans 3:23

“For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.”

Such a blessing to be reminded of this right smack in the middle of God’s word!

Now back to the hard part…ACCEPTANCE. You’d think it would be easy for us to accept this kind of Truth. This is our freedom! Why can’t we grasp it?

I came to the realization the other day that usually I don’t serve others out of joy in the Lord, I serve out of feeling obligated and out of “not-enough-ness”. Now don’t get me wrong, I often find joy in serving, regardless of my initial selfish intentions (praise Jesus for that), but I don’t want to operate out of that feeling. I want to operate out of His grace and His peace and His love.

Sometimes the hardest part is not knowing how to let go. I am so used to operating on my own, so used to earning love in this fallen world that I cannot even grasp the kind of love that asks for nothing in return.

I want to drink in that voice that says:

“You are mine.

 I created every part of you for a purpose.

Every second I am right beside you.

I will never leave you.

Nothing you do shocks me.

 Nothing you do even disappoints me.

 My love is perfect.

It is forever.

It is unbreakable.

I love you sweet child of mine.”

Every moment is His.

http://heikkialanen.net/?page=photos&cat=oz

I just finished reading the most inspirational, Jesus filled story I have ever read. I literally couldn’t put it down. I read it in 24 hours.

It’s called “Kisses from Katie”. It’s a true story about a girl names Katie Davis who follows Jesus into Uganda right out of high school. She starts a nonprofit organization and has devoted her life to loving the Orphans and other broken people around her.

Shortly after I finished the book my initial inspiration turned into complete and utter despair concerning my own life. This beautiful, amazing, woman of God has devoted her life completely to Him in the most amazing way.

But what about me? What about the rest of us?

Here I am in Mechanicsburg Pennsylvania, spending my days driving around on nicely paved roads, showering daily with hot water, reading before bed by the light of electricity, and eating what I want when I want it. I don’t feel “called” anywhere else.

 All I know is that I am desperate to feel Jesus so closely; Desperate to be his hands and feet in this world.

So I began to think about what that means. What that means for us every day.

The simplest answer is this: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” ~ John 3:30

Notice that I said simplest, not easiest.

Sometimes it is not easy to pick up your bible instead of watching your favorite reality TV show, but it’s the simple solution to the stresses of the day.

As I’ve begun to think more about this, I have come to quite a few realizations. The first is that God gives me opportunities to be his hands and feet in every moment of every day. Today I had the opportunity to either take a nap, or to write a long letter to my beautiful sponsor child. Every morning I have the option of sleeping in for 15 more minutes or starting my day talking to my Savior. All day long I am surrounded by my 7 little students, who I have the choice to love with everything that I have in every moment.

I have a tendency to look at things in extremes. For instance, “I’m not literally saving children’s lives every day, so really what’s the point.” But who am I to say that my life and every moment isn’t being used by Jesus?

Last night I opened my bible to Romans 9:20-21, which reads:

“But who are you, O man, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, “Why did you make me like this?” Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay some pottery for noble purposes and some for common use?”

My theologically educated father may have some incredible and different thoughts on what this passage is about, but to me it read like this:

“Who are you, Elizabeth, to tell me how to run the world? I created you to be exactly who you are and you are here in boring old Mechanicsburg for a very specific reason. You are not in charge. Just because it seems like others have been called to something greater, doesn’t mean that you’re calling is less. Live every moment for me, my sweet girl. Love the least of these. That is what I ask of you”

So my friends, for all of you who have ever felt left out of God’s great plan. Do not underestimate him constantly as I do. Give every moment to Him. Stay close by His side so that you are ready, in every moment, to be His hands and feet.

I will leave you three things.

First, a verse that is constantly on my heart and my lips:

2 Corinthians 12:9-But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.

Secondly, here’s a link to Katie Davis’ blog. The Lord is doing amazing things through this woman!

http://katiedavis.amazima.org

Thirdly, this is a link to the Amazima ministries website. This is the nonprofit organization that Katie founded. Check it out! Our Lord is doing amazing things!

http://www.amazima.org/

Why America is Overweight and Unhealthy. My theory.

This isn’t exactly a scientific article. But it’s a good one.

America is overweight.

It’s all over TV, magazines, the radio. Everyone is looking for the next big weight loss secret. People spend hundreds of dollars on special diet foods, pills, drinks. Anything to help them shed the extra lbs.

So why isn’t this working?

WE’RE TRYING TO HARD!

It’s really classic 1^st world behavior. We have a problem, but instead of backing up and looking at how things can be simplified to alleviate this problem, we complicate things more.

Instead of eating less processed foods, we’re eating more processed foods because their “fat free” “sugar free” “low fat”.

Tell me this people, Do you want to eat something that was chemically produced or something from the God given earth?

“sugar free” “fat free” whatever. I would rather eat simpler, regardless of the “number” associated with that particular food.

Instead of counting calories, let’s count ingredients.

If you can’t pronounce it there’s a good chance it has no business going through your digestive tract.

We’re not really conscious about what is going into our bodies. And in the end you may look cute in a bikini, but your food might as well be straight out of a test tube.

Unfortunately It’s pretty much impossible to cut out all processed foods. And there’s no need to drive yourself crazy doing so. But give some thought to what goes into your body.

Next time you reach for a “low fat” “fat free” “sugar free” option, check to see what you’re getting instead. Is it really worth it?

Check out these other articles:

20 Habits That Make You Fat

10 Diet Foods That Make You Fat

16 Habits of Highly Sensitive People

This is an article for the archives.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/02/26/highly-sensitive-people-signs-habits_n_4810794.html


When did being so sensitive become a bad thing?

Number 5 is a big one for me.
Anything from what kind of ice cream to buy to what my next career move will be. Although in my defense, what if I get home and I actually really wanted mint chocolate chip ice cream not cookie dough? THEN WHAT?!!!!

Share your thoughts. Anyone else out there find this true of them??

Life According to my Neurosis: CH.2 Aviation

I don’t dislike flying.

Or even hate it really.

I completely and totally despise it.

A few months ago Eric (my soon to be hubby) went skydiving with a bunch of his buddies. He brought home a DVD of his experience and as we were all watching it, someone made the joke that, for me, jumping out of the plane would be the easy part. Good luck getting me on it in the first place.

To whatever family member said that…touche

But pretty much that sums up the greatness of this fear. I would rather jump out of a plane at 12,000 feet, than sit on one watching the newest blockbuster.

Now that I’m 23 I can throw a couple back and, if I’m flying with someone, just let them carry my unconscious body onboard.

I’m kidding.

Ok not really.

My favorite Lizz plane experience story to tell is about 6 years old (If you do the math I was 17)…

I was on my way home from boarding school in Arizona. I flew home every two months and each time was quite a surprise for all the flight attendants. But this one was a special treat.

As the plane took off I had a jolt of panic, one my anxious little brain couldn’t ignore. I unbuckled my seatbelt and literally ran screaming down the aisle to the back of the plane.

At this point I may have been hyperventilating, but I’m sure I looked absolutely hilarious in my plaid skirt and sweater, running around the plane like the crazy person I am.

On this particular flight there was a HUGE bouncer type flight attendant who happened to catch me on my second lap around the plane.. He kindly asked me what my problem was and that was when I DEMANDED that they land the plane.

“we’re not near an airport”

“so land anywhere. Somewhere. I need to get off this ungodly contraption NOW”

We went back and forth like this a few time until I think he felt sorry for me. I think that because he actually took my seat on the plane and let me sit in his cool back of the plane seat with the other stewardesses.

AND I got to spend the whole entire flight giving out peanuts to the other people on the plane, who were still probably just hoping I didn’t go psycho again.

It may have even been my calling…except for the flying part.

Life According to My Neurosis: CH.1 Beginnings

I had my first panic attack when I was eight. 

All the third grade classes were squished onto old risers in the gym, practicing for our holiday “performance”. I was doing my best to show off my vocal skills and land a solo, while everyone else was inaudibly mumbling the few words they knew. So of course, being in my own little world, I was the last to hear the loud chorus of “Troy’s throwing up” and the screeching of the girl who just happened to be standing in front of him.

 As I witnessed the chaos that followed I felt my stomach creep up my throat in an all too familiar way. I leaped off the risers (as only a ballerina could do) and landed my face in the nearest trashcan. I hung there for a few minutes waiting for the inevitable. 

Nothing happened. 

The mean teacher from the room next to mine came over to ask me if I was okay. I told her I had lost my earring in the trashcan when I threw out my tissue. I didn’t even have my ears pierced.

I heard somewhere (possibly from my mom) that being an 8 year old is tough. Somehow that year of life is one where we uncover the truth about our mortality. 

This was the year where I woke up one morning from a dream I had weekly since I was in kindergarten to the realization that If someone came in to my room and dragged me out the window at gun point, there would be nothing my dad could do. Everything I had believed up to that point seemed absurd. 

It was the first time in my life where I remember feeling out of control and unsafe; a little girl in a big big world.

Third grade is also the first time anyone ever told me that I was annoying (the first of many such remarks), and the first time I was completely rejected by the hottest kid in gym (who also happened to be Troy the puker). It is no wonder, that after the puking incident, I dug in my heels and refused to go to school. 

And I don’t mean didn’t want to but went anyway. I mean kicked and screamed the whole way there and made quite a scene. Which really encouraged some nasty remarks thrown my way by the cool kids. Although, in their defense, I probably looked ridiculous.

The one day I actually bucked up and decided to go to school without a fight, we were reading the book Ramona Quimby age 8, which is a terrifying book that should not be read to children. Anyway, Ramona throws up at school and all the kids are so mean to her and she’s super embarrassed and it’s awful. I had to stay home for like a week after that chapter. 

When the book was finally over, everyone had to bring in a tangible representation of the story. I brought in a school bus I had made out of clay that I had spent a week on. Everyone else made puke. Literally; In various creative forms. 

And that was the end of school for me. I’m pretty sure I never went back to 3^rd grade.

And that my friends, is where it all began. Stupid Troy and his stupid inner ear issues.