#Funrunfriends

Several weeks ago I finally admitted to myself, and to everyone

Note the seasonal door :)

who happened to hear my sermon that week, that I could no longer call myself a "runner." Okay, maybe I could call myself a runner, but I didn't actually run very much anymore....

During my sermon, and throughout the prior week in my head, I spoke about a friend who, when I met her six years ago, did not call herself a runner. At that time she was in the very beginning stages of becoming a runner. Believe me, she is definitely a full fledged runner now, and that is very much because of her dedication and commitment even when it was hard and she wanted to give up.

Long story a tad bit shorter, she inspired me to dig back in and return to committed running. It is sooooo hard.

After posting about my sermon, a group of us who are friends through our vocations and live all over the country dubbed ourselves the "fun run friends" and we began to encourage one another through social media. One friend mentioned she and another also use runkeeper to track each other's progress. When I read that I thought, "I used to use runkeeper but I wouldn't want anyone to see my running stats now." I kind of laughed about it--possibly (no probably or even close to definitively) because I didn't want to face something about myself...

This past Monday I set out on my run not tracking on runkeeper but rather on couch to 10k (an app no one else can see). As I started the run I told myself I would return to the runkeeper app and to joining with friends when I wouldn't be embarrassed about my stats which in case you're wondering translates into "when I run 3 miles or more at a time, without stopping, in under 9 minute miles."

As I do every Monday I began listening to a podcast on the upcoming week's readings. I must admit I was a little distracted. For one thing, I was not loving every step as I used to (read I was hating every step) and two I was willing myself to ignore my other more practical if somewhat self righteous self who was saying, "you know it's kind of arrogant and haughty not to want others to see you're running because you're running 9+ minute miles. On the other hand using the couch to 10k at least makes you do a five minute warm up and a five minute cool down--show off Katherine would never do that--especially because then it would lower your mile pace and overall average." To add salt to an already open and oozing wound bossy Katherine continued, "Oh and btw you're 50 and they're not."

To drown out this voice I no more wanted to listen to than continue running, I turned up the podcast volume and heard something like this. "Discipleship is a process, a journey. Sometimes we're a follower like in the Gospel of Mark, sometimes it's about believing like in the Gospel of John, and sometimes it's being a student like in the Gospel of Matthew. We embody different parts of discipleship at different periods of our lives."

"Well slap my head and call me silly," I thought (it's not exactly what I thought but it's the G rated version of the southern expression.) This is my whole problem with this running thing...

I don't want to be the student--I used to be the "teacher," the one people looked up to and respected, the one who shepherded others (see me throwing in that biblical imagery?), who people turned to for advice. And you know what? It felt good.

As I continued to run I realized it wasn't just about running--it was about this whole empty nest thing (which isn't 1/2 as bad as I thought it would be) and my sense of identity shifting. I'm not longer the woman who makes all their clothes, decorates their lunch bags, brings them hot chocolate, decorates for seasons, shows up at all their events, volunteers for every activity, and just like the running role, I "liked" it--self righteous Katherine then reminded me, "Yeah you liked it AND you took pride--sometimes too much--in being recognized for it." 

I finally got home and began an email conversation with who I will call my "confessor" (her place to identify herself). I told her I hated knowing I used to be able to keep up with our younger friends and how yucky it made me feel about myself. As we went back and forth she reminded me that although it looks different, "success" comes in many different forms at different times in our lives.

I felt a little better...throughout the day at least about my running ability. What was painful to acknowledge was the part of myself that so needed to be the "best." Yesterday as I read the Gospel story about the woman anointing Jesus' feet, I noticed a detail I had never noticed before. It isn't until the Pharisee verbalizes the great sin of the woman (compared to him is the understanding) that Jesus says anything about it. God accepts us unconditionally; we in our brokenness compare ourselves with the hope that we can be "fixed" if we're just better than someone else. I had to admit to myself--both selves- it's easier for me to be the encourager, fixer, advice giver, and expert--it feeds my ego but not, I realize, my soul. And it does not bring me into life giving relationships. My heart and soul is fed by mutual relationship--giving and receiving. 

I now use runkeeper and couch to 10k....and give thanks that one day I may be back to being a runner because of my #funrunfriends, but because of them, and many others, I'm getting back on the discipleship track.