Beginning a semester is always a particularly difficult time for training. A lot of time requirements are placed upon us by the administration making big training a challenge. My advantage now is that I am not fit enough for really big stuff. The most time consuming workout I am currently doing is my longer walks. Still, I am undone with being fat and unfit. I want to be in shape, and I want if now.
So I hit a big Monday on our first week of classes. The morning, however, started as if the day were doomed. I had planned to go in for a swim before work, but while still in bed, I heard the thunder roar. We have had a lot of rain lately, and I am lusting to swim in a downpour. But I draw the line with lightning and refuse to tempt God in that way. Thus one planned workout was already cancelled before the day began. But as soon as I got home from work in the afternoon, I hit Money Road for a 6.69 mile walk. Embedded in that was a .1 mile shuffle and a 490 foot shuffle. Just listen to how wimpy that sounds. But right now to me it signals hope that I will run again one day.
When I got home from my stroll on the open road, Penny asked if I was going swimming. Naturally I said, "Heck yeah," and then headed for Twin Rivers. When I got there, the pool was empty of kids. Wow. Now that school is in session, I guess the moms are getting their children home earlier than during the summer break. Plus I don't have any night classes this semester so as long as the weather and shoulder permit, I can hit the pool every night.
I started with a 100 and felt some sensations, not pain or discomfort, but something in the shoulder. So I went back to 50s until I started warming up at 400. That is where I always began to warm, 400 meters. Then I upped it to 100s for two, then 150s for two, and finally 200s for two. That gave me 1,300, the longest swim of my comeback thus far. Maybe I can swim four or five times this week. The upper biceps tendons are still not well, but they pain me less and less frequently. Now I have hope for swimming in the future as well as running.
Hope is the soil where dreams grow. But hope needs health. Hope needs imagination. Hope needs excitement for the seed of a dream to sprout. God plants a seed in hope and imagination and His Spirit waters, nourishes, weeds. Right now, I am trying-- through time, prayer, gently exercise and even medical science-- to regain health enough to begin once more to dream. You could say I am dreaming of dreaming. I have not had that kind of dream since I climbed out of the water late Saturday night on June 3rd. Actually, I have not dreamed since that distance and course and challenge were conceived within me months before. I have done some thinking but no dreaming. I love to dream, to plan, to set goals. Dreams put a fire inside and carry one through fatigue and obstacles and discouragement. Dreams lead to hard work, hard work with joy and purpose. Dreams are God's gift, His blessing to fragile humans He loves. But one must be ready to receive, prepared for God to pour thoughts and challenges into the willing soul. I'm trying to get ready, to be like a monk who fasts and prays and receives from above the gift of his challenge. I want a dream. I want that dream. I want my dream, the one prepared for me before the foundation of the world.
Oh Lord, create in me the health of body, purity of soul, and vision of mind to receive the next Chicot Challenge.
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