Yes, I am THAT guy!

As much as I hate to admit it, over the last few weeks, I've become THAT guy.

First, I got in my first car accident the week before Christmas, and so I was THAT guy on the side of the road, staring at my broken car with mess in the street and fire, police, and tow trucks around.

And it was the day we got the inch or 2 of snow, so it was freezing cold. Not whining, just explaining.

Then, yesterday, I wiped on the treadmill at the Y. Yep, I'm THAT guy that falls on the treadmill. I mean, who does that?!

It was pretty embarrassing. How? My ipod fell off when I hit the earphone wire.  I thought I hit the stop button when I got off to pick up my ipod, so when I got back on, I was surprised to step onto the still spinning machine. WIPE OUT! The gym was full, and several people started asking me if I was okay.

Honestly, from an average guys perspective, even if my arm or leg was severed, I still would have said, "of course, I'm fine!" However, that was the end of my run.

Here are some other people that were THAT guy, only way funnier:

You shouldn't have laughed, that almost was me...


What's your experience at being THAT guy? I want some good confessions here.

Back in the saddle

I took some time off from running and training over the last 3 weeks. Great refresher, and I was crazy busy with Lifehouse.

Finally got a chance to get a run in this morning, and it felt great. 4.5 miles in the light mist. Invigorating. I want to get a marathon and olympic triathlon in by early summer. Time to get in gear and back into serious shape.

What are your phyiscal goals for 2009?

Oh, and I know that phyiscal exercise is not as profitable as spiritual, but Paul didn't say that it's not profitable at all. For me, training keeps me focused and at my best spiritually.

Here's why I run:

Dare to Fail

When I was (attempting) training for the Baltimore marathon back in late summer, I wasn't feeling very confident about the prospects of running 26.2 miles. And a very supportive (albeit, slacker) friend ask me, "why don't you just wait until next year? you're not ready yet, and besides, why bother doing a marathon?"

My response is more telling then just training for a marathon. I said something like,

"I like setting goals and aiming for something that I'm relatively sure they I can't accomplish at this moment, and don't feel confident that I'll ever accomplish." And I asked in return,

"Wouldn't you rather try and fail than never try at all? See, I want to do things that press the limits of what I'm capable of doing or have faith to believe in. I'd rather aim high and fall short, run and not finish than never run at all."

DARE TO FAIL.

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fail? Do it anyway, what's the worst that can happen? Be realistic, but dare to fail when you set goals.

What spiritual goals, giving goals, ministry goals are you setting? If they are truly faith-filled goals, they must seem impossible unless God intervenes.

Only dream and aim for goals that you're guaranteed will fail without God showing up. Then, you know you're living by faith, and relying on God. If it's humanly possible, we don't need God. Do everything humanly possible, then leave the impossibilities up to God.

This time every year, when I'm writing our church budget, I wrestle with this tension. What's prudent and what's faith? When I look back at the year's budget, I think, where was my faith? I only projected 25% or 33% growth. Only to be blown away with 40-50% growth. Then, I look ahead to the next year and think, "No way, I can't project 40% growth, better go with a more conservative 20% growth. That actually seems possible." See what I mean?

Set goals that you could actually fail in? Trust me, the sting of failure is overwhelmed by the exhilaration of triumph, faith, and daring great exploits for God.

65,000 Steps

If you watch the video closely, you'll see me somewhere in the crowd running the Baltimore Marathon this past Saturday. Finished it in 4:38. Not great, but I finished. Considering my longest run before that was about 13-15 miles, I'm pumped. Besides, I've joined 1% of world population that's done it.

You read right. Marathon (26.2 mile race) = about 65,000 steps. It felt like a million on Saturday when I got to mile 21. They say a marathon can be divided in half: the first 20 miles and the last 6. That's about right.

I DID IT! I had set this a goal and now I've checked it off the list. Next up, shooting for eventually achieving one of my life goals, finishing an Ironman (swim 2.4 m; bike 112 m; run 26.2). Someday.


Lots of life lessons from the race which I'll be using in videos that I recorded with Corey about 30 min after the race. It's for our series at Lifehouse called, "OCTANE!"

Thin Places

In Wild Goose Chase, by Mark Batterson, he mentions the idea of inattentional blindness. The idea that we become blinded to things that we see all the time. However, the wonder of God is found in the routine of life, and when we stop and notice divine moments in ordinary events, those are called "thin places" according the Celtic Christians. The place where heaven meets earth.

I found a thin place in Hagerstown, MD at 5:45 this morning while running. When I began, the stars were bright and the moon lite the street. It was magnificent, breathtaking even. Then, as I ran, dawn began. I don't mean it crept in the way my daughters sneak into my bedroom. It gloriously arose. It was awe-inspiring. Truly wondrous. Steadily, what happens everyday happened, not again, but in a special way, that is one-of-a-kind. And as dawn arose, I could see the dew covered fields, and watched as a heavy fog began to descend over our town. Even the fog was spectacular. Toward the end of my 12 mile trek, the fog began to break and the sun shown through. And all I could say was, "Wow God! You Rock!"

What "thin places" have you seen recently? Would love to hear your stories.