Initial Thoughts on Re-Entry To My "Normal" Life...

Sometimes you wake up from a dream and the details were so vivid, you live the first half of your day taking the events of your dream into account.  Other times you have a real-life experience that is of a similar nature... Things occur that are so far out of the ordinary for your life that it takes a while to absorb the affects into the way you live your life on a daily basis. Sometimes this is not a good thing.

In cases of PTSD, major family illnesses, a death of someone close...we are often astounded at the negative effects these types of things bring on and it takes a while to "get over" them. Other times, we have experiences that are so amazing that we can have a similar difficulty.  We never claim trying to "get over" things like a marriage or the birth of a child, but the adjustments can be just as difficult.

I'm sure you can think of a great list of things that would fit into these categories, but what of the things that are a little of both? In each of the aforementioned cases, the goals of our adjustment are pretty clear cut. We want to move past our grief. We learn to take joy in the new love we have discovered. But when we have experiences that are a bit of a hybrid, we find ourselves at a loss.  I know it's not easy to list these kinds of things so I'll just tell you about one.

I'm now in my second full day home since returning from a mission trip to Nicaragua with a group of students and parents from my youth group. We had four adults (including me) and seven students. Of those, one of the adults and six of the students had never left the country (except for on a cruise or the like).


For 10 days, we spent our time much differently than when we are at home. We built houses in some of the "poorest" parts of town in a third world country. We served people who waited in line for hours to get a few days' worth of simple aspirin. We stuffed bags with a meager supply of baby care items and distributed them to new moms. We accepted it as normal to not be able to understand what the people around us were saying. We struggled to deal with the (in)capabilities of the plumbing in the bathroom. We were careful to eat and drink only from certain sources so that we could avoid parasites and diseases. We were outsiders...uncomfortable...and it doesn't take long for change to take place in how you value the things around you.

There were a couple of times, when I had access to an internet connection, that I would check in on the news at home and I was shocked how the headlines read so differently to me. I wondered what the locals in these little Nicaraguan villages would think if they read through our news.  I saw them struggle to survive and figured they wouldn't really care.

This morning was my first time driving since I got home.  It felt weird. I listened to the same talk radio station that I always do and the news was weird. I heard the same advertisements for the "hoity-toity" housing developments with waterfront property I've heard almost every weekday morning for years and it was weird. I went to breakfast with a friend at Cracker Barrel and it was weird. Not because of my friend, but because I said "gracias" instead of thank you and I didn't have to wonder if my food was safe.

Maybe I'm just rambling today...maybe my readers are my therapists...I just know that its hard to sort out all of the thoughts and feelings you have after these experiences. It's like waking up from a dream except the dream is reality...and that makes things a bit foggy. Can we just pick up with our normal lives and "get over it" and go on? Do we want to? Do we need to? If we don't, it brings sorrow, but is that sorrow bad? Will I be rocked to sleep by the droning of our culture and it's version of our needs?

What's the point? Why did I sit down to write today? Why is this relevant to anyone else? I'm not sure, really.

Have you ever been in this place? Have you had one of those in-between experiences? What did you do?

finishing a 3 1/2 year journey...THIS WEEKEND!

Three and a half years is a long time. Your kid can go from birth to potty trained in that amount of time.  By the time I had known my wife for three and a half years, we had been married for two and a half. Lots of people graduate from college in three and a half years. Me? I take that long to run a marathon... Let me explain...
January 1, 2009 my wife and I decided enough was enough and it was time to resume treating our bodies the way we're supposed to.  I had run track in college and been a 5k runner for a while afterward, but my job situation wasn't healthy and the stress had gotten to me. When we moved to Knoxville in July 2008, I was weighing in at 190. That's not cool. That January day we ran .8 miles and we were spent. (nope, not a typo... .8 miles.) Round about November of '09, while discussing our weight loss with some friends, the subject of marathons came up. The next few minutes were a blur, but all I know is before the evening was over, we had agreed to run the Country Music Marathon in Nashville. (clearly, we were nuts.) The date of the race was April 24, so we threw our training into high gear...and I kept getting more and more nervous. 26.2 miles is a long freakin way to run. Then the big news came...

the weather over Nashville on April 24, 2010

Lots of people remember what happened in Nashville one week later, on May 1. It was a 200-year flood that left all of us shaking our heads. What many don't remember (unless you were running with us that day) is the powerful spring storm which was closing in on Nashville and scheduled to land during the race.
Everyone in the marathon got an email from the director on thursday, telling us that we were going to be allowed only 4:30 to finish the race.  If we were not on pace at the split, we would be rerouted to the half-marathon finish.  We were kind of freaking out. We had spent months getting to this point and now we might not even be allowed the opportunity.  The expo was abuzz with talk of the storm. I remember being hesitant to buy marathon merchandise because I wasn't sure I would finish.
Sleep was not easy the night before the race. My heart beat kept me awake for a while, but eventually the alarm went off at an hour which came too soon and we headed off with our friends to find out exactly what a corral was, anyway.
The race started well and my nerves settled a bit after my feet were moving. (Running always does that.) After a few miles I became more confident I would make the cutoff and that confidence paid off. I remember my elation as I passed the half-marathon split at 11.5 miles.  It felt so good to have all that trouble behind me... now we could just enjoy the rest of our marathon and bask in our accomplishments.

just a few minutes before the race stopped...
of course, the picture would be taken during
a walk break with my water...
walk breaks look very athletic :-)

Soon we were in northwest Nashville and around mile 17 I learned what it meant to hit the wall. I still had a lot of learning to do about race nutrition so, it lasted until nearly mile 19.  Those two miles were some of the worst in my life, but once it was over, I felt great. I was ready to take on the world and cross the finish line with style and power.
As we got closer to crossing over the river to the north side, I noticed some people running the opposite direction.  I thought it was odd, but just figured it was people who were doing cool downs after the half. The storm had started now and the rain was coming down.  The wind was pretty amazing and the police were out with bullhorns encouraging all the runners to be mindful of places to take shelter as we went along the route in case things got dangerous.  I remember them saying "We are not forcing you to exit the course, but please be aware." No problem. That's what those waivers are for, right?
As we crossed the river I could no longer remember the exact course route, so I thought nothing of the righthand turn just across the bridge.  Before I knew it, I was staring down the half-marathon finish.
I felt tricked.
I felt cheated.
I was angry, mad, upset, you name it.
In spite of the fact we had only run 20.4 miles, they gave us the marathon finishers' medals anyway.  To this day, it has never hung around my neck.

Jamie and me after the race in 2010 with
my sister,  with whom I ran the half last year

Afterward, we started combing the internet for another race we could fit into our schedule.  We settled on Buffalo, New York (they have really cool medals, and it's flat) but then life happened.  My wife felt "funny" on one of our maintenance runs and that afternoon we found out we were parents. (BTW, I would make the same trade 1000 more times)  Buffalo was out and so was everything else for a while. Our son was born in January of 2011 and we managed to squeeze out a half-marathon in Nashville the next year because my wife is so much cooler than everyone else. We set our sights on 2012, but my sister decided to take a huge leap and run her first half-marathon that year, so I trained with her and ran with her every step of the way.  Helping her accomplish such a huge goal was one of the most rewarding experiences I've ever had. So now it's 2013.  The Country Music Marathon is four days away and my heart is beginning to beat a little faster.  Not because I'm unsure I'll finish (I finished at Disney and Knoxville, TN in 2012 and again in Knoxville earlier this month), but because Nashville is my white whale.

This weekend should yield my fourth full marathon finish.  I will be wearing two medals at the finish line...one from 2013 and I'll also be taking my 2010 medal so that I can finally call it even with Nashville.
The odd thing is I'm not sure I would've run any more marathons after that first one in Nashville if I had finished, but because it all went wrong it left a burning in my soul.  I had a vendetta with long mileage. Somewhere along the way it became more of a romance. I now find myself in a position to go run a half-marathon at the drop of a hat.  I only need a couple of months to be ready for a full.  I'm pretty much at the healthiest I've ever been and I still cry just a little every time I cross a marathon finish line.  My heart and soul are both made happy when I run now and I owe it all to that storm in Nashville on April 24, 2010.

The Boston Marathon and What I Expect in My Next Marathon

I believe it is no secret to my readers that I am a runner. Because I am a runner, I can't help but feel that I was personally attacked on Monday. Sure enough, all of us were attacked, but the running family is a tightknit group of folks who will stand by each other, even if we've never met and never will. Running is a sacred thing and it is undertaken by some of the strongest and most amazing people that the world has ever known. Running is pure. There's no equipment, really. There's no magical methodologies. Just a butt-load of miles stacked up to get you to where you are. Your only adversary is time. The vast majority of us aren't competing against anyone other than ourselves. We cross finish lines and get every inch of our bodies packed with ice, looking like we can pass out at any second and say things like "I couldn't be happier with how I did today." Knowing full well that we won't walk normally again for at
least three or four days, if we're lucky.  We're the ones that will be on a road trip and say something like "Hey, we're one marathon away from _____." and grin while everyone else in the car seems to visibly wither. In some ways, we're all probably a couple of degrees off of right, but you know what else?
Runners are some of the bravest, most determined, most tenacious, steel-spined, reach-my-goal-or-die-trying sons of guns there are. We train in the mud, snow, rain, thunder, lightning, heat and cold and beat the living crap out of ourselves doing it just so we can go out and kick a little harder next time. We get up before the sun and eat hills for breakfast. We burn off a full "recommended daily allowance" of calories before most people's days have even started. Our souls are fed by destroying mud, dirt, rocks, hills, valleys, and asphalt. We are the ones who feel BETTER after running 10 miles.

You know who else is strong? Our friends and our families who put up with all of our ramblings, moans and groans and then yell at us at the top of our lungs when they see us at mile 3, 7, 12, 16, and 20. They hug us at the finish lines even though we smell worse than any human should ever smell. They get up with us and make oatmeal or pancakes. They rub out our sore muscles and go to innumerable lengths to make our dreams possible.

The starting line of the Rock 'n Roll
Country Music Marathon in Nashville

In other words, runners and their families are the worst terrorism target ever.  We don't get afraid. We don't back down. People learned a long time ago not to tell us we can't do something, because we love nothing more than to prove you wrong.  We will mourn for our friends who have been hurt and weep with those who lost friends and brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters... but we won't be gone long. By definition, runners move on...and we come back stronger than ever. Defiance of intimidation is in our blood and we've got the scars to show it.

I know these are all big words and tall talk, but I'm going to prove it to you...WE will prove it to the world. Just watch...watch what happens at races in the weeks to come. You know what you'll see? More runners than ever... family members, friends, and even just random local people will come out in greater numbers than ever before to cheer on all of us runners as we move toward another goal.  They'll have signs that they spend their own time and money on... getting as creative as possible to give us encouragement and motivation, and effectually proving to the world that whatever fear or terror may have been there for those first seconds, minutes, hours after those bombs went off has already been turned into fuel that pushes us harder. That's what we do with pain.

My next race will be the Rock 'n Roll Series' Country Music Marathon in Nashville, Tennessee on April the 27 and I couldn't be more excited about it.  The national anthem before the race will be the best the world has ever seen. 35,000+ of us will be there to run our butts off and say to the world "How do you like me now?" The crowds will be HUGE and the running family will be at its best. See you there!

The Best Part of Any Challenge...

If you listen to the wrong voices, it won't take you long to become convinced that, no matter what you're doing, you have no hope and you're destined to fail.

You're not good enough...

You don't really have time to do it right...

The economy is kicking your butt...

No one is hiring...

The instructor is the worst I've ever seen...

Depending on what you're trying to accomplish, you can easily find a way to excuse yourself and give up... if that's what you're into. (Of course, this brings up the classic question: If you're trying to fail, and you succeed, did you really?...I digress)

If you spend time reading blogs like this one, odds are that you have some level of ambition...some kind of goal in mind for where you're headed and you're likely wrestling with it on a daily basis.  You're also probably a lot like me in that you know a number of other people who have some goals that they are working on, as well. Some are just plain goofy. (A friend of mine once counted how many times he went to the bathroom in a year.) And others are completely life-changing. (Change your health, change your life.)

At the risk of making things sound overly simple and cliched, I want to refer all of you to an article I read about athletic accomplishment.  In short, the article lays out the point that those who enjoy the process of getting to their goal are much more likely to reach the "win." In other words, if you can figure out a way to enjoy those interviews, find amusement in how much you sweat during that workout, make a game out of teaching yourself the things that the instructor is missing, you're much more likely to get to the end of the process and be "grinning like the cheshire cat." That's how my mom would put it.

The best part of any challenge has got to be the getting there part.  Otherwise, the accomplishment, will have a bit of a hollow quality to it...just another flash-in-the-pan.

I'm going to offer something today I haven't done before. If you are in the middle of a challenge in your life that is very important to you and you are finding little or no ability to enjoy some element of the process, I want to invite you to email me about your situation (find my email address below). I would love to do all I can to help.  I'm not an expert, but I do believe that when we help each other, each of us is better off. Please put "FINDING FUN" in the subject line so I don't miss you. I figure this is the least I can do. After all, you've already made my life more fun just by being a reader.

Email me at jasonbterry at me dot com. I look forward to hearing from you!

Breadcrumbs

Do you guys remember that uber-freaky story about Hansel and Gretel? You know, the one where they leave a trail of breadcrumbs to get home but wind up getting trapped and almost cooked by that wicked witch, which we all envisioned as the most vile of monsters? Well, it turns out that leaving a trail of where you've been isn't always going to get you thrown into a furnace...

Last night I posted this picture on my instagram:

...then I started wondering...why are runners (like me) so obsessed/excited about our medals? Do we use them to imagine ourselves on the podium at the Olympics? Are they Brazilian power crystals in disguise? Wait...are runners and their medals really any different from other people with other stuff?

I have a diploma on my wall...
I have a couple of dated golfballs in my office...
I have a deer head hanging in my living room...
I have a wedding ring on my finger...

There are moments in all our lives, some big, others huge, that we would like to hold onto. Since we can't stop the clock we just take things with us... like the kid still wearing that church camp bracelet in February...and this can be crazy-empowering or wicked crippling and that all depends on your motivation.

If you're holding onto things from your past because you see that times past were great and you are worried that things may never be that good again, you're slowly killing yourself. But if you hold onto things as reminders of the amazing trajectory that your life possesses and of the excitement of knowing that the next level of greatness is right around the corner then that's a horse of a different color (kinda like my medal).

We don't always hold on to physical stuff, either...our emotional souvenirs can be just as empowering or debilitating.  I think one of those is called "motivation" and the other is called "baggage."

So what have you recently held onto? Why did you grab a hold? Take stock of the souvenirs lining your proverbial shelves and see if you can discern a pattern...do these things excite you or depress you? Be intentional about the markers you set up in your mind and in your soul and make sure they push you forward rather than hold you back.

As far as this medal is concerned... I'm REALLY looking forward to running a half-marathon in 1:56:17.

From Knoxville, With Love

Don't you love those lists where they rank cities according to different things? SanFrancisco, you're the best when it comes to being outdoorsy. Seattle, you seem to be the most active city in America. On the other end of the spectrum, Orlando takes the cake...no pun intended...for being the fast food capital of the country (In fairness, the most prominent chain is Subway).

In the last two weeks, our lovely little Knoxville has taken the prize in not one, but two national surveys. Either one of them on their own is worth a little bit of conversation by the watercooler to be sure, but when you put them together, particularly over a span of just a couple of weeks, you have a prestidigitatingly rich soil for all sorts of pontification. What are the two honors, you ask?

First, Barna Group recently released some new studies that dig deeply into the presence or absence of a Biblical mindset in major US cities... atop the list? Knoxville. Boom.

Second, Amazon just released some numbers that led them to claim, based on volume and types of items purchased across the country (I'll let you imagine the possibilities), that Knoxville is the most romantic city in the United States.

At first glance, these might seem like a couple of quirky facts about a little mid-sized city in East Tennessee, but what interests me is the fact that a lot of people would probably look at this and, considering the number of Marvin Gaye albums and "sexual wellness products" consumed by Knoxvillians, believe these two titles to be diametrically opposed, but are they?

The Bible tells us tons about how to love one another. Doesn't it seem reasonable to think that people with the "most Biblical mindset" should also be doing a good job of loving their special someones? What do you think? How would you explain the simultaneous holding of these two city-wide distinctions? As for me and my house, we'll be doing all we can to maintain both with gusto.

The Purest Compassion

I just finished a book called "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall. (moment of silence for all the runners out there) Let me nutshell this thing for you...

author runs
author is hurt all the time
author is too stubborn to take medical advice (kudos to him)
author searches for enlightenment about his quandary
author ends up in a lost part of Mexico, searching for a guy that may or may not exist.
author finds the guy
guy introduces author to tribe of indians who run like its their job
author learns about their culture in totality
author gains a great amount of knowledge and understanding and runs like crazy and without injury to this day.

got it? good.  wanna know what the indians big secret was? ...a smile. They smile when they run, and not only because they're having fun, but because they believe they do it for everyone they love. The whole village seems to revolve around running.  one quote from a later chapter in the book stood out to me:

"It's easy to get outside yourself when you're thinking about someone else."

He's right. Have you ever been motivated to do something hard because of someone else's need? Heard about 100 lb women lifting cars off of babies? These guys (and all of us, the author argues) are capable of running down wild animals to kill them with their bare hands... they are all so physically fit that they could have one heck of a brawl and everyone would be dead in a minute, but instead, they have more compassion than most of us imagine possible.

Here's a question: I'm not sure what it would take, but let's say you make me so mad that I'm ready to beat you to a bloody pulp. Just before I lay into you, something gets my attention and I decide to let your trespasses slide.  You may or may not be amazingly grateful for my decision, depending on how intimidating you find me...which is prolly not very... i'm 5'9" and 160 soaking wet. Now play out the same scenario in your mind, but put Mike Tyson in my place.  Yeah,... you just became a fountain of gratefulness.

Here's my point. To me, one of the biggest reasons to take care of yourself, to sharpen your skills, to become the most powerful version of yourself is this. Compassion is at its finest when it comes from the most unexpected places.  In the same way that a bridle and bit can keep a clydesdale in line, so should we be able to control our wraths and mercies. Don't get me wrong, these are great traits for anyone to display, but if you really want to amaze people, spend your whole life getting strong enough to crush anyone or anything that crosses your path and then softly wipe the fearful tears from the eyes of the very people, of whom, everyone expects you to make an example.

PS., Just for fun, I included a video of the author discussing some of his learning while on his "running journey." It's pretty amazing stuff. Enjoy.

Super Bowl Ads... did you notice this?

Okey Dokey...
So after driving four and a half hours to get home with a ticking time-bomb in the back seat (aka, my son, who currently has RSV and whose body is producing enough snot right now that it makes him puke on a semi-regular basis.... seriously, i never want to see that in my rear-view mirror ever again) I was excited to be home in time to catch a few Super Bowl commercials... Then I saw them.... It was quite disappointing... Did anyone else think we saw an inordinate amount of commercials for CBS TV shows? And what was up with all those beer commercials that weren't even funny? It's just wrong.

I digress...

Here's what I did see in an ad that I thought was at least somewhat entertaining...

Did you catch that? From :05 to :14 there's some small text at the bottom of the screen that reads "fictionalization." Was that really necessary? Okay, maybe we should give them the benefit of the doubt here. After all, a LOT of things happened in that nine seconds

Is it actually impossible to swim in water like that?
Do lifeguards not actually jump in to save people any more?
Are you telling me that guy didn't actually punch a great white shark in the face?
Do great white sharks really exist?
Should I discount any ideas I had of being able to carry my wife like that in the future?
I think he was breathing there... is that no longer possible?

Bottom line is this (no pun intended)... Every time I see one of those little disclaimers on an ad what I read is "All the people watching this are so stupid that we can't possibly count on them to be able to distinguish this ridiculous ad from real life. Therefore, we'll put this single line of insanely small text up here for a few seconds, and thereby keep our butts out of trouble when one of them inevitably tries to punch a shark in the face."

We are living in an age of ever-decreasing personal responsibility. Just for once, can't a civil court judge somewhere just look someone in the eye and just tell them to quit being an idiot? Anyone with me on this?

BSA + LGBT = ?

It's not the algebra problem from hell.... it's the topic of conversation on the radio as I began my day. My thoughts on this may surprise some of you.  Some will be disappointed...some angry...some excited...some supportive...some all of the above, but I was surprised to realize how much of an opinion I have about this and I felt that my thought train took a couple of turns I didn't see coming...

First, let me lay this out there...if you were unaware, I am a Christian, and as such, I do believe that the issue of sexual orientation is an intrinsically moral issue.  I also realize that I, personally, am guilty of a plethora of other things that are intrinsically moral issues.  Because of that, I put forth every possible effort to not cast judgement on others because I am no better than anyone on the face of the earth... and I mean that in a "neither Bin Laden, Hitler, Ted Bundy, nor Adam Lanza should be considered any worse a person than me" sort of sense.

I realize that my little boy will very likely grow up having friends and acquaintances, co-workers and family members who ascribe themselves to the LGBT community.  This strikes no fear in me.  I do not shudder in the depths of my soul because of it.  The same things are either true of me now, or have been in recent years. 

From a human rights/equal rights standpoint, I see the LGBT agenda (if I'm allowed to call it that) as legit.  No one should be treated with any less value than anyone else, for any reason, anywhere, at any time.  All people are made of the same stuff. We breathe the same air. We all seek significance. We all need love to live. I think it would be great for BSA to publicly ascribe themselves to all of the above. 

However...

At this point in time, I come down on the "nay" side of things for BSA changing their policies about openly gay members and leaders. 

"What!? Why!? What about all that you just said about equality and all that jazz!?"

In short, BSA has all those same rights.  Camping, pinewood derby, hiking, and knot-tying are not what makes Boy Scouts. In fact, no organization is made based on its actions.  Organizations are made based on the values that drive their actions.  

I will always have more respect for someone who is thoroughly convicted in their beliefs and disagrees with me wholeheartedly than someone who wavers and flip flops and happens to agree with me for the moment.  

If BSA wants to remain a respectable organization I believe they should stick to what they claim as core values, whether you or I or anyone else disagrees.  Surely we can all agree that they have the right to do so.  After all, isn't that what tolerance is all about? 

Driving for Adventure...

It's been a part of me as long as I can remember...

We recently had a bit of icy weather in my neck of the woods, and as soon as the first frozen precipitation hit the ground, my spider-senses started tingling...

This afternoon, I headed out to drop off some things at the post office and pick something up at the pharmacy for my wife. I accomplished those things and then found myself taking the long way home...

I stopped to take some pictures...

And then my wife called...

It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was a little perturbed with me... "I just don't understand why it is that every time we have some bad weather, you have to find a way to get out in the middle of all of it."

"Well, that depends on how you interpret 'bad weather.' I mean I think its actually quite beautiful out here with all the ice and everything..." Yeah, don't worry. That's not what I said...at least not out loud.

Entire forests have been leveled in order to make the paper for books that discuss the innate drive for adventure in men, but does my affinity for driving in snow and ice, torrential downpours, etc. qualify as a "drive for adventure" or is it better classified as "adventure driving," or maybe "two steps shy of volunteering for death?"

I'm not alone in this, am I? Is there anyone else out there who loves few things more, when the weather throws a curveball, than to jump in your choice mode of transportation and go check stuff out?

I do know this much... Herein, lies a great example of the double-edged sword... my adventurous spirit, willingness to try almost anything and inquisitive nature are some of the things that my wife loves most about me and some of the things that will undoubtedly open plenty of doors for me over the years, but those VERY SAME things are the exact junk that drives my wife crazy.  This, friends, is the wonder and amazement of love... as well as the appropriate time to head back to the house.

Pens, Tongues, and Guns

Nope, that's not the title of my new hard rock album, just a Cliff's Notes version of some thoughts I had lately. Consider the following:

The pen is mightier than the sword.
-Edward Bulwer-Lytton

Fire and swords are slow engines of destruction, compared to the tongue of a Gossip.
-Sir Richard Steele

Shoot, if a picture is worth a thousand words, maybe cameras should be in this discussion, as well, but here's the path my mind train has followed since yesterday's post...

I found out about something yesterday that has possibly changed the world forever. A guy down in good ol' Texas, by the name of Cody Wilson, has launched something called the Wikiweapons Project. In short, anyone with a 3D printer can download a free file and make his/her own firearm components in the convenience of their own home. No serial numbers...completely untraceable...cheap...disposable...biodegradable. Here's where we jump off the cliff...

On one hand you look at that and say "cool!" But on the other it scares the crap out of me. At that moment I remember that we should look at things objectively before jumping to emotional conclusions, so...

What about Gutenberg? In his time, knowledge was power... more specifically, printed books separated the haves from the have nots.  Even crazier, the printed matter that mattered most was actually the Bible! The ones who had a Bible and knew how to read it were the most powerful people in many parts of the world, but then the printing press...and the power structure crumbled...

Then came the modern age of science and logical reason, ushered in by the very printing press that had destroyed the pre-modern age...more and more material became available to the common man. More and more men (and women...shudder the thought) were, therefore allowed to question the almighty scientist.  Eventually there were more questions out there than could be answered in a satisfactory amount of time and people became exhausted with the asking and power shifted again... knowledge in the post-modern world is based on each person's own life experience and what "works" for them, however that may be defined.  the lines are blurred and before long the only certain things are death and taxes (that statement alone is worth volumes of attention and thought).

What of words? If those two statements at the top are true then the most destructive thing any of us could ever possess is a tongue.  And if that's true, then all this conversation about "gun control" is a mute point.  Anyone who's read Lord of the Flies or, more modernly, the Hunger Games, knows that when it comes down to it, a large amount of weaponry can be made utterly useless in the absence of chatter that may or may not be based in truth. Deception is the most vile trap of all.

So here we are... if one of the only things people can agree on across the globe is that dead is dead and no one wants to be found in that condition (for the moment, just forget about the whole zombie apocalypse thing), has this guy in Texas brought us to the precipice of another revolution of thought for the developed world? Are we doomed to hit the reset button and return to a power system based on some derivative of even greater physical threat because small arms are no longer an advantage and the world has become so saturated with readily-available information that knowledge is now powerLESS? Are the haves and have nots soon to be separated only by large arms that are not and never have been available to the average person... but.... wait for it.... eventually will be because of the ever-increasing level of knowledge and cheap technology?

The questions that this one little "Ctrl-P" brings up are seemingly endless...

So is Cody Wilson a modern-day Gutenberg...leveling the playing field for all mankind and telling the "powerful people," "Sorry, you're gonna have to find something else to hold over our heads because everyone with a computer has an endless supply of weapons." Or is he nothing more than a cavalier fool, equipping the Libyan terrorists in the VW van so they can go after Doc Brown?

having cake and eating it too (or giving people a voice and telling them to shut up)

We've all heard it before... "If you want to make sure nothing happens, put a committee in charge."

I'm happy to report that this is not always true... but I regret telling you that I'm amazed at how much it is the case.  Even weirder, though, is that this isn't something that seems to have developed overnight,... or is it?

If I had a dime for every time I heard a discussion about how much the government can't do because of gridlock, I would be using this blog to bemoan my higher taxes. But has congress slowed down or has our expectation sped up?

Don't worry, I'm not jumping off into the abyss of political discussion.  This is just one of a gazillion examples... committees in your office, your leaders at your church,...deciding where your family will go eat on a Thursday night.  The speed of information has accelerated at an astounding and exponential rate.  The Mars rover tweets pictures from it's camera and the whole world can see them in a matter of minutes....

All of this illustrates the difference between information and wisdom.  Almost anyone anywhere can obtain endless amounts of information about anything any time.  Understanding what to do with it, however, takes time.  Occasionally, quick and swift decisions are in order and even required, but even those things are based on the vast wisdom that has been acquired over a long amount of time that gives you the ability to "make the call."

Many love to fantasize about firing all of congress and doing a line-change on Capitol Hill... but it seems like that could be equally disastrous because then you'd have a group of men and women who had zero experience and had to figure out how they worked as a group.  Shake up the committee in your office at a rate of 100% and you'll bring progress to a screeching halt, quite likely.

The truth is that we all love to have our voice heard, we just don't like the part about listening to others when its their turn.  Representation in any forum or format is valuable... it's not easy to maintain... and last time I checked, most in the world believe it's worth dying for.

Jillian, Sunny, Running, and Your Whole Life...

Today's post comes from a few assumptions:

1) Biggest Loser is the greatest show ever to hit TV (even better than Seinfeld and maybe one day I'll delve into why)

2) I run, therefore, I am

3) Jillian Michaels is my favorite trainer in the world.

Hang with me for a couple of minutes and I promise to show you something that amounts to way more than a TMZ article about what happened on that one show with that girl in that place...

I'm finally getting around to reading Born to Run. I love it. It rouses my soul in all the right ways... but one passage stood out to me today, especially after Jillian's talk with Sunny on last night's episode of Biggest Loser:

"Perhaps all our troubles--all the violence, obesity, illness, depression, and greed we can't overcome--began when we stopped living as Running People. Deny your nature, and it will erupt in some other, uglier way."  -Born to Run, Chapter 15

Sunny was struggling with living up to the expectations she believed her parents had for her to become a doctor.  Runners, more than any other athletes, it seems, struggle on a daily basis to deal with injuries or to avoid them altogether. Most of the people you know, athlete or not, live every day feeling like there's some kind of monkey on their back. A struggle with morality, the bossman, illness, destructive relationships, addictions, terrible self-image,...the list goes on, ad nauseum. 

Is this passage from my current read onto something? Compare it to the following:

"Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." - Apostle Paul, Philippians Chapter 4

To me, these two passages clearly echo one another.  What would the world be like if people didn't spend so much time focusing on what not to do, and instead spent their energy on doing what they should? What if the people you know quit talking about all the things you shouldn't do and began encouraging you to do what was good for you? What if you quit kicking the living crap out of yourself for all the mistakes in your past and began finding joy in all the positive things you could fill your day with? 

Is this ringing a bell in your heart? It does in mine. Make today the day you shift your momentum. Roll that big rock the other way. Quit saying "no" to all the crap and start saying "yes" to all the things that can fill your heart and soul with joy.

what your kids expect...

My son has no idea how profound his words are...

Back in October, I went to Africa for a mission trip and left home for 10 days.  It took a lot of work for me to convince myself that it was okay to leave my family for that long with my son not even two years  old yet (go ahead and cue the stories from people who think that statement makes my life posh beyond belief).  When we explained to him what I was doing, I was well aware of the fact that he had no ability to comprehend that Dada was going away for 10 days, but we explained why by telling him that I was going away for a while "to help people." He latched onto that and I'm happy to say that it has become a staple explanation for many things...

what is that ambulance doing? help people

what is that firetruck doing? help people

why is Dada getting a phone call and leaving the house at 10pm on a Tuesday? help people

This morning when I left, I gave my little big shot a hug and told him I was going to work.  He responded by saying "Dada go work... help people."

BOOM!

I realized that my son operates under the assumption that anytime I'm not with him it's because I'm doing something to help someone. That's heavy, Doc... I mean, on one hand, I couldn't be happier that he's gotten that impression of what his dad is about, but on the other hand, it kinda scares the running shoes off of me.  That's a lot to live up to... am I making good on that? Is my life truly focused on helping others? 

I know one thing... in terms of what I tell him and what I hope he will learn and live by, the litmus test for a good day is "Did I help someone today?"