Spring Running! Oh the Joy!

Spring!  The best time of the year to run. The world awakens from cryogenic slumber and regenerates. The grass greens, flowers bloom, the birds sing. We get a burst of new energy and optimism.

I went on a run wearing a t-shirt yesterday, first time running in less than a long sleeve shirt since November I suspect. It was wonderful.

But spring is a cruel mistress. The melting snow makes puddles that are so huge a lake forms on the sidewalk. On your approach, there is no telling how deep it is. I sing the lyrics to The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald and start taking long strides ready to leap over them. When you clear the puddle, you howl inside in triumph. When you miss, you splash muddy water all over your leg and feel the wetness sink into your toes. 

The air feels so fresh, except for the scent of months of dog poop that fill the air. The feces have been gathering all winter inside the snow banks, which are now melting and releasing the fumes in the air

Piles of snow banks soak up the muck of the street and turn a sludgey black.

But all of this has changed. Winter is not done, and is dumping a fresh white blanket of snow 6 inches deep. The world is beautiful again...  (please, bring back the dog poop!)

Spring Running and the Resurrection

Happy Easter! 

The Easter bunny is a hard sell, much harder than Santa, yet the good bunny will be visiting our house this year.

Easter is the promise of rebirth. The land that has died in the cold winter is resurrected back to life in the warm glow of the sun. It is the time of the year we put away our running gloves and headbands and tights.  On any good spring run, you’ll see the grass and the leaves and the trees start to breath and then turn green before your eyes.

But as for Easter, isn’t it Good Friday when all the serious work went down? Right?

Friday is the day Jesus was crucified and nailed to the cross. To me, that is quite a bigger deal than on Sunday.

Sure, Sunday is when the miracle of resurrection happens, but to honor the Sunday holiday and not Good Friday is like showing up on game 7 and watching the locker room celebration and calling yourself a fan.  

Friday, is where the real blood and guts flowed and Jesus carried his cross that he was eventually nailed to.   Friday was the hardship.  Friday was when the metaphorical marathon training took place; the 20 mile long runs through aches and pains that rips us apart.  The resurrection was just crossing the finish line of a race. Sure, it’s glorious, but as many marathoners will tell you, the training is the hardest part, the actual marathon run is almost just a victory lap. 

Yes, Christian or not, the Christ-story is a great metaphor for what runners do all the time. On plenty of 20 mile runs I’ve felt that I have crucified my body, plunged into 3 days of harrowing hell, only to feel my spirit ascend to heaven and our creator.  At times we run to shed a few pounds, but eventually we will want to shed our whole body and set our spirit free.

Stay tuned for next Sunday’s sermon, where I will unveil new evidence about the Last Supper, which was actually a carbo-loading meal to build maximum glycogen storages.  After all, it was to prepare for the 3 day grueling endurance event of the resurrection. Nothing is more ultra than that.