Death's Sting is Fleeting and Weak

I find it hard to put into words the depths of feeling I'm experiencing right now. My long time-friend, mentor & spiritual example Mark Macallister took his own life earlier this month after a long battle with depression and chronic pain. He leaves behind his amazing wife Jody and two beautiful and wonderful kids, Levi & Bree. This picture shows their family together and at peace.

My heart hurts quite a bit right now due to the tragic, senseless and sudden loss of so bright a light as Mark shone to the world around. He was gregarious and compassionate and had friends in such a wide range of places I was almost always surprised when someone I knew said "Oh, Mark? Yeah, I've known Mark for years". He would never be the one to shine a light on himself, always demuring and deferring to others in a humility that was so natural and secure.

Mark exemplified to me the heart of love and care for others that is the best description of the word "Pastor" I know. It was primarily his influence in my life that opened to me the possibility of giving my life away to others in this pastoral way as well.

Living as followers of Jesus, Mark and I shared a hope that there is something beyond this life -- something which defies description although better men than me have certainly tried. I do take comfort in knowing Mark is "in a better place" although that rings so hollow in my ears because his current experience is so much richer than that little phrase could possibly convey, but also beacuse that little phrase sounds so trite and weak when placed against the pain of his loss to my heart.

I do also take comfort in knowing that death itslef was never supposed to be part of our story -- and so it will be done away with in the final analysis. And so I have a deep appreciation for John Donne's classic poem as well. I'd heard the opening line many times of course, but seeing "Wit" with Emma Thompson really galvanized within me an appreciation for the epochs-long wrestling match with death we humans have undergone.

Death be not Proud
By John Donne
1572-1631

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Requiesact in pace Mark, until we meet again when death itself has been put away.

~ Keith

A Week at an Abbey

I recently spent a week at an Abbey in Mt. Angel, OR.

I thought I was going there for some solitude; some silence. Apparently I was wrong.

I did spend a significant amount of time alone, and being quiet, and that was nice. It was restful and restorative -- but I learned some things about solitude and silence I was not aware of before. Some I learned from my reading, and some I learned from just being there, alone. A Monk's room is sometimes referred to as a cell -- and it has been said

Go into your cell,
and your cell will teach you
everything you need to know

I wish I had more to say about it here, but I had such rich time journaling and reading and being alone with God that I feel no need. =)

If there are specific questions anyone has I am happy to answer them either here on the blog in comments, or privately in eMail -- but simply chronicling my experience here (which is what I might have done in the past) strikes me as something which would somehow take away from the experience.

~ Keith

Happy Holidays

'Tis the season, so here is my quasi-annual post relating my thoughts on saying "Happy Holidays" vs "Merry Christmas" -- especially in the context of all the ruckus from well-meaning (if closed-minded) people who complain the former limits their free speech and who insist the latter is somehow better.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

I like Thanksgiving. I also like celebrating Christmas, and the start of a New Year. I also like learning about other cultures and traditions. Channukah, Kwanzaa, etc.

So am I the only one who doesn't really mind saying "Happy Holidays" to people?

I mean, sure, I'm a person who is trying to live in the love of Jesus, so for me the signifigance of Christmas is such that this one holiday is at the center of my holiday season. But I know that's not true for everyone.

Me wishing a "Merry Christmas" to people who don't celebrate it is like me saying "Happy Birthday!" to someone when it isn't their birthday -- isn't it? And isn't it rude for me to press the point by saying "Well, I don't care if it's not your birthday -- I'm celebrating it..." And isn't it even more rude to just assume that everyone I know thinks like I do, and celebrates the same things -- and isn't it even more rude for me to somehow imply they should, by making a big deal of only saying "Merry Christmas", or griping when an employer encourages the use of "Happy Holidays" instead?

And anyway -- aren't "holidays" really just "holy days" and if "holy" means (among other things) "set apart" and "special" then why all the fuss when employers encourage people not to say "Merry Christmas" and instead only "allow" them to say "Happy Holidays" -- isn't that a nicer thing to say anyway -- more inclusive?

Maybe it's just me.

~ Keith

A Joyful Surprise

I had an experience recently which made me think (among other things) "I should blog this!"

Life, as someone said, is what happens when you're making other plans. Here it is a week or more later and I'm only blogging because I woke up at 0421 and couldn't go back to sleep. I guess now is the time.

I was driving home from work and had stopped at a red light. As I pulled up behind the car in front of me I noticed a young man in his late teens or early twenties, in the back seat on the passenger's side, staring vacantly out the back window. As I stopped he sort of woke up and saw me seeing him staring into space. He looked embarrassed and turned to face front. End of story, or so I thought.

Then he turned back to look at me and smiled, covering his mouth with his hand and sort of shrugging. Then he turned back facing front...and began laughing hilariously. "Great," I thought "some punk kid is being a goofball and messing with me".

Then he turned around again and actually waved at me, smiling this big goofy grin. The stress of the day was starting to wear off, and my first impression of the kid was wiped away as I saw the genuineness in his eyes. I smiled and waved back, and was surprised to see his eyes get big, his smile get bigger and, as he turned back to face front, he was actually rocking back and forth and bopping excitedly up and down in his seat. At this point it became clear to me he was not just a goofy teen, he was someone special.

These three brief encounters all happened within 20-30 seconds. As the light turned green and we moved forward, he turned around again, and smiled and waved. I smiled and waved back and he again responded with obvious delight, seemingly undiminished by the repetition. This went on for about 3-4 minutes, which added up to at least a dozen smiles and waves. And each and every time he responded with the same level of surprise and physically-expressed joy. Let me tell you, my stressful day was forgotten! My path home had me change lanes to the left and as I passed their car, the young man looked back. When he saw I was no longer behind him his face fell a bit, but as he turned to face front, he saw me passing them -- so he smiled and waved at me through the side window and sure enough, as I smiled and waved back, he responded with equal glee.

It had really made my day and I was reveling in the wonder of it all when I came to another red light and, to my surprise, found I was somehow behind the same car again! The young man looked back and in a split second I saw his expression change from expectancy (thinking he'd see whoever he had been playing the wave and smile game with for the past few minutes) through despair (nope, that person is gone now) and then into near luminescence as he recognized me from a few moments before and realized we had been re-connected.

He waved at me and I waved back. This time, though, he also flashed me a peace sign. I sent one back his way and as he turned to face front not only his face lit up; his body was hopping and jumping up and down so energetically I thought he was going to hurt himself!! We played the smile/wave/peace-sign game for a few minutes and then I changed lanes again, this time to the right. Our paths began to diverge but he followed me through the side window for another block or so. By then he was on the other side of a gas station but, somehow, he managed to make eye contact again for one last smile, wave, and peace-sign offering. I sent them back his way and faced forward. The clock on my dashboard told my brain only around 5-7 minutes had gone by, but my heart disagreed, telling my soul I'd just experienced an eternity of joy and real human connection.

I chose to allow my soul to believe my heart.

If I close my eyes I can still see that young man's face, full of joyful abandon and a gloriously contagious smile.

~ Keith

Liminal Times

Today is 1st November, 2010 -- my 45th birthday.

Yesterday was Hallowe'en, today is All Saints' Day

The transition from yesterday into today is a liminal time -- the ancient Celts & Picts (my ancestors) believed this to be the most powerful of all liminal days of the year -- for all the historic and sociological reasons you can read about in Wikipedia link above, but all the more for me today.

This has been a year of transitions:

• From: Field-staff RN,
  To: RN Manager
  -- 4th January 2010
• From: Vineyard church-planting pastor,
  To: Unaffiliated Jesus-follower
  -- 1st September 2010
• From: Runner,
  To: Marathoner
  -- 10th October 2010
• From: Early Forties,
  To: Middle Age
  -- Today!

Today I have moved past my mid-forties; today I am officially middle-aged. You know what? I'm totally OK with that! In fact I love that! Like John Denver said in Poems, Prayers, & Promises:

It turns me on to think of growing old

I have always loved Autumn and Winter. The long nights and cold wet days. The deep abiding rest the world moves into. All this really feeds my soul. I identify with these changes and appreciate the subtleties and vagaries of liminal times.

Here's to liminal today, and here's to liminal me!

~ Keith

Marathon Training Week 23 of 23

Week twenty-three is now history. I completed the marathon training program, and ran a marathon.

Wow.

On my 43rd birthday back in 2008 I ran 10 miles. It felt great.

Monday 11/1/2010 is my 45th birthday, and I'm going for a run. How far? I have no idea. How long? I have no idea.

I'm not going to wear a watch or a heart-rate monitor. I'm not going to plot a course or go back and try and figure it out on Google Maps. I'm just going to go for a run. When I get tired I'll stop and walk. When I feel like it I will run again. When I feel like being done, I'll come home. This will not be a training run, it will be a recreational run. My training runs are usually enjoyable -- but on Monday, that is going to be one great run!

Thanks so much for reading all these posts and following my progress. As I mentioned in my last post, I have a couple races already scheduled, and I'm hoping to break 2:00 in the half-marathon. I don't plan to blog that training, but I'll post from time to time if something significant happens.

As usual, I have the "boring stuff" posted below. But in case you're interested, if you add up all my training from 24th May through 30th October I ran over 530 miles, taking over 92 hours, and burned nearly 70,000 calories. To put that into perspective: if I started running at midnight on a Monday morning, I would finish on Thursday at 8:17 pm -- and I would have run from my house to the California border, and then back again, and then gone for another little 23.5 mile run! And, if all the calories came only from burning fat, I'd have lost 19.8 pounds...of fat!

Here's the boring stuff:

Week 23 totals:
Running Distance: 19.83 mi
Running Time: 03:25:52 h:m:s
Avg Speed: 5.8 mph
Max Speed: 11.6 mph
Avg HR: 147 bpm
Max HR: 181 bpm
Calories burned: 2,529

Cycling Approx Distance: 00.0 mi
Cycling Time: 00:00:00 h:m:s
Approx Avg Speed 0 mph
Avg HR: n/a bpm
Max HR: n/a bpm

And here's the link to week 23's "long" run of 5 miles.

Sum totals for the 23 weeks:
Running Sessions: 97
Running Distance: 531.51 mi
Running Time: 92:16:55 h:m:s
Avg Speed: 5.8 mph
Max Speed: 12.8 mph
Avg HR: 149 bpm
Max HR: 182 bpm
Calories burned: 69,285

Cycling Approx Distance: 207 mi
Cycling Time: 10:52:50 h:m:s
Approx Avg Speed 19 mph
Avg HR: 127 bpm
Max HR: 153 bpm

Monthly Running Mileage Totals:
May: 23.68 mi (24th thru 31st)
June: 95.02 mi
July: 104.11 mi
August: 102.53 mi
September: 120.72 mi
October: 85.45 mi (1st thru 30th)

Previous week's totals:
Week 22 totals:
Running Distance: 13.45 mi
Running Time: 02:19:46 h:m:s
Avg Speed: 5.8 mph
Max Speed: 14.1 mph
Avg HR: 147 bpm
Max HR: 177 bpm
Calories burned: 1,710

Cycling Approx Distance: 00.0 mi
Cycling Time: 00:00:00 h:m:s
Approx Avg Speed 0 mph
Avg HR: n/a bpm
Max HR: n/a bpm

And here's the link to week 22's "long" run of 4 miles.

~ Keith

Portland Marathon 2010 -- reflections and memories

As I sit and type this, the marathon is a full 2 weeks in my rearview mirror. I had some computer glitches so I was unable to blog before now. As a result, all the stuff that was fresh in my mind is now not quite as fresh. Maybe that is a good thing because what has stuck with me are the few memories that perhaps are the most important. Here are the highlights.

First and foremost, the biggest highlight has to be accomplishing a goal that has been 2+ years in the coming. I can't tell you how it felt to cross that finish line and know that I'm not just a runner, I'm a marathoner. Me -- the pudgy un-athletic kid grew up into a guy who, at age 44 (45 next week!) broke 4:30 in my first marathon!

Another huge highlight (and major props) go to my wife Cathy for putting up with not only the mood swings of the last few weeks, but also my early-morning runs and early-evening bedtimes x 5+ months (not to mention hearing me rant about cross-training and rave about various running-related things all the time). She has been my number one fan and supporter.

Major props also go to Tom & Dawn Bartel for coming out and supporting me. They met me at around mile 1.5, and then showed up multiple other times on the course. Tom was also there rooting me on at about mile 26.1 -- just before I turned the corner and faced the finish line. It was so great to have them there as my own, personal cheering section! (And while she was not there for me specifically, a special nod goes to Janel Roden who surprised me late in the course with a hoot and a holler!)

Highlights of being out on the course were:

IT RAINED THE ENTIRE 4.5 HOURS I WAS ON THE COURSE! I absolutely love running in the rain so it was a phenomenal treat, and clear evidence that God loves me! =O)

The father/daughter pair running together.

The young woman who was running in honor of her uncle Doug who had died in the last year.

The 3-4 wheelchair racers I saw with heads down and super-buff arms propelling high-tech wheelchairs.

The huge crowds of spectators -- especially the ones who read my bib that said "My First" and cheered me on with "Lookin' good My First! You got this!" and stuff like that. Also the guy who gave me 10 style points for my heel-kick while crossing a bridge.

Not stopping to walk on the approach to the St. John's Bridge. That was cool to see all the other people stop and walk, but I didn't. I took plenty of walk breaks, but not there.

The multiple bands, and TONS of volunteers who handed out electrolyte drinks, and water, and gel and vaseline and stuff.

The other volunteers at the finish line who put a space-blanket around my shoulders, and a medal around my neck, and then gave me orange juice and other goodies while I was stil not quite in my right mind. Also huge props to the volunteers who were out so early taking our stuff and safely storing it away and then having it all organized so we could pick it up after the race!

The biggest props still go to Cathy. After crossing the finish line, and getting my medal and blanket, I wandered around aimlessly for a moment and heard this angelic voice calling my name. Cathy was there at the finish line behind a fence with the rest of the spectators, and had taken the two finish line photos below. She was in awe and said very nice things to and about me. She even gave me a through-the-fence smooch!

Here's a few shots from the race weekend.

I saw this at the expo and almost bought it!

Here I am the night before, all geared up with no place to go (yet!)

Just before crossing the finish line (click the pic & zoom in)

Just as I'm crossing the finish line (click the pic & zoom in)

My number one fan and supporter!

My ad-hoc coach, and encourager Tom!

For the nerds like me, you can see the Garmin data for my run here.

~ Keith