Running on Faith

I skipped my workout today.  I was supposed to run for 30 to 40 minutes, but I didn’t.  I just skipped it.  For those who really know me, especially my wife, Christine, they know I never skip a workout.  I may have to run at 2:00 in the morning or in a thunderstorm or at noon when it is 100 degrees outside, but somehow I will find a way to workout.  But tonight, I didn’t even try.  I just skipped it.

I did work out the past three days.  And two of those days were hard interval type workouts.  But every time I would have to accelerate during my run I had the feeling similar to when you are running out of the ocean when you thought you saw a shark.  For the first few steps the water is fighting you as the panic increases until you finally break through and get up to speed.  And with several intervals like this during each workout, the feeling was multiplied.

Every morning I get out of bed and hobble to the bathroom to get dressed.  My legs hurt.  My feet hurt.  And I am usually tired.  It has unfortunately become a routine that I have gotten used to.

After my run last night, I was talking to my Dad.  He asked why I was running so much and I replied, “Because I want to qualify for Boston.”  Ironically, my boss asked me this morning why I was so serious when I run, and I replied, “Because I want to qualify for Boston.”  (He has passed me on road by my house in his truck while I was in the middle of one of my intervals and I refused to stop and chat.)  Even though my response to both of them was the same, it meant something different.

My boss knows I like to run and do triathlons.  He knows I am crazy.  He knows I will push my body and limp to work the next day.  But he doesn’t quite understand any of the details.

My dad, on the other hand, knows it all.  He is one of the few people who can remember what I used to be able to do as well as understanding what it takes to accomplish my goal.  He was there every step of the way when I was running in my youth.  So when I mentioned Boston, he quickly related things to what I could do back then.  And back then was 25 years ago.

My body, the 2009 42 year old model, is tired.  Of course it didn’t help matters that today I spent two hours in a dentist’s chair with a tooth that wasn’t quite deadened enough when he started drilling.  But that is another story.  For now, I am still stuck with having skipped my workout.  But it has made me step back and think.

Every year since 2005, I have been raising money for one charity or another.  I have enjoyed that part of my racing because it provides another sense of purpose to my activities.  And over the years, I have had some incredible friends donate a lot of money in support of my charity.  But so far this year, it appears that many are “skipping a workout.”

Now don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining at all.  Many of them have given more than their share and with the current economic turmoil things are different this year.  Things are different in the world right now and many have other obligations to take care of.  Plus, they may be tired as well.

But then I remembered a show I saw this weekend about a patient at St. Jude.  The two year old little boy had a tumor on his brain that they were able to shrink with chemo……for a while.  His dad knew that time was short, but he said that while his son was smiling then he would smile too.  His son died about 6 months after the clip was taped.

Tired or not, I cannot stop.  I have to push on.  I have to keep going.  I have to keep asking people to donate.  Because if I don’t care enough to give my all, then why should I ask anyone else to.  So there won’t be too many skipped workouts…..at least not on my part.

(P.S.  My workout plan called this a recovery week.  It said to take an extra day off if needed.  Hee hee hee.  It wasn’t actually a skipped workout after all.)

I had a tough workout last night.  Actually, I had a really tough workout Monday night which left me in a pile on the floor of my truck hovering on the edge of a heat stroke.  No heat stroke.  Anyway, it wasn’t a pleasant workout.

So yesterday I had another tough one scheduled.  And 5 minutes after waking up yesterday (4:00 AM), I started thinking about how tough it would be.  “Man, it’s going to hurt.  Last time you crashed and burned on this workout.  What do you think you are, 17 again?  Or even 27 or 37 again?  Nobody cares if you just bail on the workout.”  And those thoughts jumped in and out of my head at various times during the day.

In the attempt to actually use my brain a little, I delayed my workout until about 6:30 pm in the hopes for a little cooler weather.  Or at least no sun frying me.  And after bringing Mason to drums, eating dinner, and sitting on the couch for a while, I was ready!  Ready to crawl in bed and go to sleep that is.  But I didn’t.  I got up, put on my running clothes and went outside.  And then I walked around for 5 minutes pretending to “stretch.”  Actually, I just did not want to hit the start button.  Because once you hit start, you can’t hit stop until you are done.

Eventually, I hit start.  I made it through the 15 minute warm up in pretty good shape.  The legs felt surprisingly good.  The breathing was even.  And the sun was easing lower in the sky.  Not bad.  And then I started the hard part: 30 minutes of steady state pain.  It took a couple of minutes to get into the narrow pace range my plan called for.  And when I did, it was not a comfortable “conversational” pace.  I was lucky to smile and grunt “ugghh” at other people on the road as I ran by.  This was going to be a long 30 minutes.

And then I found my mind over matter condition.  My body was hurting but not in dire straits.  And every time my focus would wander and my pace would drop a bit, I just had to think “faster” and I got back on track.  It was mentally exhausting to keep concentrating, but I started realizing that I could do this.  And once that happened, everything was just peachy.

It still hurt.  But along with the pain I found something positive.  This can be done.

During many of my extremely long races or training, I have found that on the other side of the pain is a level of joy that is hard to describe.  It is not the jumping up and down and screaming joy, but that quiet deep inside your chest warmth that is like a gentle pat on the back.  It is almost as if you can feel the words, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”  And then you realize that He was guiding you through the pain all along.

Every time I get a email with the subject line, “A sponsor had donated to St. Jude on your behalf,”  I get that same feeling of warmth.  And once again, He was guiding me along.

Sometimes you have to stop and smell the roses.  Or in my case, stop and figure out why I am doing what I am doing.

In the past month I have been to several 3-day swim meets, had my daughter turn 16 and get her license, started a new training plan, and nearly broken a toe.  And that is on top of work and my “normal” family obligations.  Add to that the constant drama of political scandals, senseless crimes, financial woes and useless static on the airwaves and it is easy to get overwhelmed by it all.  So why have I added the additional burden of training for this marathon and trying to raise money for St. Jude?

A couple of days ago I stopped the world (the one spinning around my head) and spent a few hours reading the patient stories on the St. Jude website.  Now those were stories of having your world stopped and being overwhelmed by it all.  And they reminded me of something: this isn’t about me, my pains or fighting to finish a workout.  It is about children, families and doctors who are struggling with real pain and fighting for their lives.

What I am doing may not mean much in the grand scheme of things, but if I can help one child it will be worth it.

Please follow this link and donate to St. Jude if you are able, donation page or just leave a comment and I will get in touch with you.

Thank you and God Bless.

Tim Hutchinson
Team Running on Faith

I think I am going backwards.  Between work, the heat, and about 7 swim meets in the last 11 days, my running has gone down hill.  And not in the fun “Wheeeeeeee!” way.  My mileage has dropped off significantly and my long runs have ceased to exist.  But I have a plan……literally.

For Father’s day, Christine and the kids bought me a custom training plan from McMillan Running.  This will be a 20 week training plan written just for me and my goal to qualify for the Boston Marathon.  And using my engineering ingenuity, I have deducted that the 20 weeks will start on July 19th.   Wow.  That is a mere 3 weeks from now!

Most of the people reading this site will find it hard to relate to what I am talking about.  Unless you have had a super aggressive personal trainer who pushed you on a daily basis or you have trained for a long distance endurance event with a structured training plan, you probably won’t see my fear.  Right now, I am training using the 1960′s “free love” method.  Wherever the wind blows me and whatever turns me on that day, I do.  And that works fine as long as you have no set goal or deadline.

With a structured plan, you wake up each day and read the plan.  And then after crying for a short while, you get to it.  Okay, in my usual fashion I am exaggerating a bit.  But not by much.  Most of the workouts, even the painful ones, I find a way to enjoy.  Some workouts I hate when I read them, hate when I start them, and usually hate the way I finish them.  But I always know I am working in the right direction.  And that is what I need right now.

So now I am ready to reverse course….again.  And hopefully this time it will be in the correct direction.