Ironman Cozumel

I thought it best to get this Race Report out now-fast. It still burns and stings a bit…figure while it’s raw, it  may make for better reading.

I have a day here in Cozumel-post race-to sit and reflect on what turned from hopeful to horrid so it’ll be nice to finish this RR.  I received a gift from Chris before I left, a new Athletes Lounge hat with the signatures and encouragement signed by my whole church family-awesome. Thank you West Valley!!!

I really wanted to validate all the sacrifice others made for me to get here.  I know that may sound dramatic even ‘romanticized’-but, I mean it. I felt strongly this was an opportunity to justify hard work and dedication put in by my whole team. It is a team sport, don’t believe otherwise. Plus the way I’m wired I just wanted to say “We did it, finally.”  I wanted to do my best. That’s all.

Not going to be a sour-puss, or sore loser, I had a rough day…. that’s racing.  I knew coming into this, as did my family, the chance of punching my ticket was shadowed by what could (and did) happen. Ultimately again-I really am OK with it.  I’m happy I finished,  I wanted to quit so terribly bad, and for all the reasons why I listed above that I wanted to say “Kona!”, these  same reasons sang true for me just getting to the line. I thank God for this awesome experience, and the images of people who love me in my head saying-keep going.

Michael Lovato agreed that it was one of the toughest swims (and overall days) he has seen. Talking to a full on pro gives a much different, and needed perspective about Ironman. Too often it’s comfortable to get cozy with the ‘mistake’, or ‘error’ that caused the day to go wrong.  Instead of just acknowledging sometimes again, racing is going to suck--deal with it. Of course the ease of writing that now is better-but the initial acceptance of falling way short was hard.  I went from Texas, missing Kona by minutes, to yesterday missing it by hours.  I thought this on the run (or walk for me)-- and had to keep going back to the ultimate reason I was racing.... get people informed and involved with Mountain Top Ministries and the “Taxi Initiative”.  Yes,  Kona is huge and something I've been working for a long time, so naturally with the haunting realization that all this time spent away from those most important would come up on the wrong side made me sad. But quit?

What Ian Adamson said during the Epic 5 and in Canada came to mind--“If you quit once, it’s so much easier the next time….and so on”. Kona??? Eh…It will wait. Or maybe it will never happen?  That’s another thing I thought about yesterday between the vomiting, and passing out…”Hey moron, It’s me the One who created you, knows you, and Loves you….Yes, I love you. Don’t love this more than me-alright? It’s cool, and I love that you enjoy it, but, remind me again, who did you say that I am? You’re not going to understand this in the morning.  Or maybe never… Know why-cuz it won’t matter.  Let’s just get this right-I love you, I’m Holy, you are not, suck it up, Christmas is coming.”  This was going through my head all day. It’s happened before; I feel Christ’s love in the lowest of moments. For me it brought great comfort…then I barfed again all over.  Ahhhhh…. Ironman.

“Yeah but what if you had qualified-Would all this be different?  All the deep thoughts and beautiful reflection -- like a lame Jack Johnson song?” (Yep-he’s lame)  Uh…It does not matter. The fact stands and it’s OK to recognize it-I did not qualify. Move on.

NOTE**As I re-write this part of my RR on the plane I've been upgraded to 1^st class. Why? I’m not sure, but I get this now….. I used to be a peasant nibbling on peanuts and stale pretzels drinking a half can of juice or water…Pffffff….. Now-I’ve got a whole can of ginger ale and a thin yuppie glass to pour it in, a Turkey sandwich, hot towel, blankey, my own flight attendant. This is weird??? But….I’m at the back of first class, like 1.5 class and the people right behind me, in coach, the lesser folk if you will, are glaring at me in their crunched seats.  Quivering like skinless cold newborn dogs. "Quit looking at me… let me enjoy this Delta free range organic chocolate brownie and steaming cup of coffee. I wish you all were never born….Just leave me alone! Can’t you see I’ve got to get up again, and use my very own bathroom  with the easy to find flush handle, comfortable toilet paper, and trash bin lid that’s not all jammed up with paper towels because I only pull out one at a time instead of twenty like in lower, or, coach??"  Seriously…this is awesome.)

swim course day before race

The race-

I was fit-like fit, fit. Even with that 2 week navigation and detour through Chest Cold Township-I was ready, and, just so you know (a few of you asked my “plan”) my intent was to come in around an hour on the swim, (Cozumel is usually a faster swim, so I was looking at around 56-58) 5 hour bike, my bike fitness is dialed and I planned on hanging at 200w, if things went well possibly under 5, and, hold 7:15-20’s on the run.  This was where my body and head were and I felt comfortable, trained, and trusted. I've been honing in on my race pace with Chris since Louisville and this made sense. I was aiming for-and serious about a 9:20-28/30. It’s taken years not just think this-but, know it and trust it, believing in it….this removed a ton of doubt. Athletes get “locked” sometimes.  I have, did, and if not careful still will ‘think’ or ‘imagine’ I’m bound to, or ‘locked in’ to an end product of previous results in build, prep, work, to a single point including the setbacks within a time frame or schedule. Does that make sense?  (I know that’s a crap sentence) Chris was HUGE in helping me overcome short sighted detours and recognize the overall “trip” to get where I was.  Despite my prep not 100% nailed (it rarely or never is for most) b/c of a cold-life-job….Whatever, with common sense and a cool thought process managing time into a race is still very possible to hit your goals even with forks in the road. *** Now-the important thing is BASE, if not present-scratch those previous thoughts.  That’s a different topic altogether. My base was, and is solid-I knew this and felt charged up-but careful. Plus-the stress and trouble this race, (this year) has been on my incredible family, was worth one more chance utilizing my platform. We all worked out a plan-and, it was a go.

Literally within 60 seconds of getting into the water I knew the plan would change….

The night before the race I maybe got in an hour or two of sleep. I just was unable to sleep.  Good thing the day before (after flying into Cozumel) l I slept for 13 hours.  I woke up and was like “BRRAAAGGGGG I feel GRAND!!!!! Where is Baxter and my Leather bound books!?!?”  I was so rested!!  It was such a boost.  My concern about the short time getting here before the race was gone.  This also gave me peace as I lay awake in bed knowing I was rested deep down. I just thought, prayed and considered it a blessing that no matter what happens this time next week I would be home.  The only time uncertainty of what little rest I got race night was at the end of--nightmare swim, and my depleting energy and patience began to shift.

The chop, waves, and current were INSANE.  Treading water and moving to the start I thought “Why am I swimming-but not going anywhere?  “Oh, crap”.  The disorganized swim start was my only logistical complaint.  At least 300-400 athletes took off 2 min’s before the gun, and despite efforts of jet ski’s trying to push everyone back-it was unsuccessful.  I treaded water at the start line watching hundreds of people swim by as the initial group that jumped took off.  I began to wonder what to do?  I guess they thought they heard something-either way, I stayed put as I anxiously watched hoards of people bolting. Eventually I was on my way.

I fought with everything to hold pace in the water and being on the outside of the pack (near the Jet ski’s) presented me with a challenge never faced in a race. Getting away from the fumes and the water that tasted like oil and gas was nearly impossible.  It was terrible and for at least 5 minutes I could not evade it. I could feel my stomach bubbling and tried to calm myself.  Eventually I was out --but the feeling of post Tilt-a-Whirl + elephant ear grew heavy inside. With a few gulps of sea water, breakfast was complete.  I also began to realize I’d been in the water way too long and imagined many would not finish the swim- 200 + did not, and a total for the day was over 30% DNF’d. Tough day.

Exiting, the fatigue was haunting-but, no kidding…within 2 minutes running through T1 I felt good! “Thank you Lord” I said out loud and all worry about the water was gone-totally. I felt awesome even seeing 1:10 on the clock as I looked back and saw droves of people struggling-- just thankful to be out.

T1 was chill-excited I had five hours to get set, fueled, and kill the run. I was level the whole day. Knowing full well I’m emotional-I made it a point to just be level, kind of like “I’m here to work, put on the hard hat, and go home.” Despite this, I was looking forward to being back in T2 already!!  Putting on the ol’ slippers and running, but, again I quickly focused on the moment and for the rest of the day stayed there.  In the moment.

20 miles into the bike I started vomiting. I did not stop till mile 23 of the run. These were not “top off’s” or, “burp-up’s” (when you throw up a little indicating “I’m good for right now”) many were bouts of head spinning, little girl possessed listing to Slayer and smiling vomit’s. Not fun. But…mentally I was really OK, actually I was awesome and overall my body was dialed.  Initial thought was maybe for once the jarring in the water was hanging for a bit-“it’s cool just be patient… it’ll pass”….

I was keeping pace and power for the most part till 60 or so, the effects of decreased intake obvious.  I started to try and figure out what the heck was going on and why? I couldn't keep anything in, and worry began to creep.  No Cals/CHO’s will make for a tough run.  My plan-EAT ON THE BIKE, was not happening. I thought about working with Neil at Kinetic Revolution, being smart-not forcing it. I continued to stay positive and patient. “This has to turn”.

Was it Salt water? Over-pacing?  Should I have waited longer before I started my fuel instead of getting right “on it” post swim?? Crap!  I tried everything-everything.  Gave myself a few windows to try to settle my gut down and slowed the pace.  Just water helped for a bit, but nothing seemed to fix-or, slow the problem.  The heat was not a factor at all for me.  I was working –but not being dumb.  It’s been said GI Issues are just pacing issues in disguise-I thought of this, slowed again, nothing.  Finally at mile 90 I came to a decision-slow now-way down, loose the work I've done and do repairs on the first part of the run.  That’s not ideal but it made sense. Racing sometimes is like the mind of an Alcoholic or a porn addict-(any addict I guess)…

.

1.       It’s Ideal.

2.       Turns to an ordeal.

3.       Then you want a new deal.

I call it –the ION principle.  Ideal was gone at the swim, my ordeal, nothing (fluid/fuel) stayed inside, and my new deal was-damage control.  I really slowed- sipped water into T2-managed a gel, few clif blocks in the last 20 miles on the bike which got me to the run. But still was so queezy and gurgley.

T2-Total focus “Use the first 4 miles as a rebuild.  Get some cal’s and fluid in, see how my legs feel.”  With the super strong wind and flatter course I’d been using the same muscles all day so I could not really assess my legs till I was on em for a bit.

 Sweet!!-They felt good.

I was constantly assessing where I was at. I knew I needed fluid. I knew I needed fuel. I was going down the road of dehydration (if not there yet) and just not going to face it because my legs felt really good.  “I can still do this”. Out of T2 I did walk for 2 minutes, drank, and ate a banana, Gatorade-good, good.  Down the road with screaming fans all over I kept thinking “walk out-run back in”. It was comforting and felt like I was doing the right thing, felt like I was playing against Ironman. But, very soon into the run I didn't feel right. My effort  felt like 7:15/20, but my time was 7:40/5+. “Ok, I’m staying here then for right now”, I told myself again…. all is OK.  Mile 2, 3, 4 all were pretty nice and uplifting, something is working.  Easing in-getting fluid and fuel…..Then mile 5 or 6??  Not totally certain… Demon vomit girl walked back in.  ”Hi old friend, like my new doll and Braaagfrdfgerteeerr” I fought her off with run/walk for a few miles -- but as the run progressed I grew more nauseous and sensitive.  Smells of Gatorade and gel started to make me throw up-it was bad and getting worse. I tried so many times to just get anything in to take hold-but nothing.  I ping-ponged back and forth with water and letting things just settle- it would work for a bit-but by mile 20, I just had to walk. I did pee on the run late, but my body said enough.  I was done. Now I had to really fight off quitting.  I walked with Dirk Bockel for a bit, he told me in his thick Belgian accent, “This is embarrassing to walk like this”.  I tried to encourage him a bit but was pretty bad in my own way.

Mile 23 was the final act-I leaned over a curb and really heaved-up came everything I had gotten in on the run over the past hour. Funny though… after I actually felt better.  This was the first time all day I actually felt good after being sick??  I was relieved. That was good. The bad- I passed out here, only for a moment.  I remember some guy yelling at me and a medical attendant asking if I was Ok. I smiled, like a freaking psycho, got up, and was off.  Mile 25 I mustered up what I could and ran or, whatever- through to the line “Hey, Hey….I think I’m OK” Thumbs up like a dork….uh…nope.

Staggering over to the recovery area I hit the deck and was taken into medical where I spent a good part of the evening.  I have (I think again) about a 10-15 minute window where my memory is kind of gone.  I have no finisher shirt, and how I went to the Med- tent from the finish is still hazy. I vaguely remember the IV going in and coming around after fluids, some nausea med’s, and soup. I had a T-shirt on and a pair of fresh boxer shorts and kept asking if I was going to have to pay for these pajamas? What was going on-I swear I thought Tom Cruise was going to walk in and ask if I wanted to go to Vegas and count cards…  Eventually I hobbled over to get my crap and a cab to take me back.

Disbelief I actually finished and failure ate away. Where was the gusto, the knowing I was ready-my trust. It was gone, and for a few seconds it won. My motives here have always been transparency. More than just relaying grams of malto, pace ideals, meters in the pool and intent for getting to Kona-you know this-So, Relaying this next part hurts, but its truth. And it always-always wins.

 My family should have been here.

They should be here with me now. This pulled and tugged back and forth for the past few months, and Rhonda, solid as always, my best friend and greatest piece of Life on earth let me go and chase it.. one more time. Man that chic loves me. Like “high school” loves me. Like “make out all the time and foot rub loves me” and, what I thought would be the frame on a work of art we struggled to paint this year-was now stench-so I thought. If I had not already been fighting off nausea still-it hit me hard then. Just to clear up here, I did bounce back out of “self pity and misery alley” fast. I was just a little shocked-that’s all, but I was clear. I enjoy endurance sport and Ironman so much. I love the opportunity to be with such amazing sponsors and people in my corner, racing with other people who “get it”.  I love to fight for things that mean more than racing too. I've been so blessed this year. I've met people who share my love for Jesus and grow relationships.  Jason, Jake, Ryan, I thought of you a lot these past days. It’s a God thing I know-but, it’s true.  We have spent little or no time together and I still feel connected. Thank you all. (just felt led to write that)

I know no matter the goal, prize, or potential victory that lays waiting, despite the chance at stars in your eyes, the “yeah…but this time it’ll be worth it’”-- stretching out to grab the Holy Grail like in the Last Crusade, it’s a long painful walk. Sometimes filled with hard talks to yourself, to God, to demon vomit kid. For me I didn’t know how long a walk like this was till I was done. I fell, and the ones that I breath for in the first place were not there. I don’t regret coming here, nor would Rhonda say that it was a bad decision. Ian on the other hand..”What the crap Dad?! You get to go fly again and stay at a cool motel?!  Man, I want to go with you!”  I kept saying-soon little man, Kona. The first thing he said when I returned was “I know how bad you wanted to pay us all back here Dada, but I love you, and you did not quit.”

We are a team and we knew the reasons, Cozumel was the right thing to do. But you know by now if you've raced Ironman, it brings feelings.....the kind I think I'm ready for and when it comes, wham.  In Louisville when I got that 9:51-it was cool, but I still was bummed Rhonda was not there.  I fought off all this during the race and was a robot but now-I was unplugged. Enter blade runner. I reflected that morning before the race, waking at 3:30AM.   I sat and drank a cup of coffee and prayed. Read a little-listened to music. Thought then how  I missed the heavy sarcasm from Rhonda as she often comments on the hour team Isakson is up, and quickly says “No babe-this is a blast”.  My son Ian telling me don’t quit papa-ever.  Evelyn looking at me in a haze with eyes so big and blue it makes the water I swam in yesterday seem like a swamp.

Victory or defeat, I miss my family….I love you. You guys are my Big Island.

Honestly...overall the experience was AWESOME.   I had time to share my hope to a few Athletes about working in Haiti, my desire and passion for X3 church, and just Loving on people you know? I enjoy being able to say “Yeah, my race was difficult, but have you heard of the “Taxi Initiative”, and Mountain Top Ministries??  

I’m still not so thick headed that I lose total track of reality….right?

I mean-- I still have to win the Ultraman World championships?

I've got to keep thinking straight.

Direction

Sitting here at LAX alone on the evening of Thanksgiving. It hurt to see Rhonda and Evelyn walking away in Portland after I cleared security and headed to my gate. We all knew as a family this day was coming and agreed that we would throw our efforts at IM one more go this year. With amazing support from sponsors and my desire to motivate others to maybe consider taking part in the Taxi Initiative--this race closes the season for me and kicks off the momentum into next year working in Haiti and Mountain Top Ministries. It's solid.

I'm on an extremely tight schedule heading into Cozumel, but will do my
best to update and send out pictures.

I had the blessing to spend Thanksgiving with our close friends- family really-it was the best way to kick off this race week for me. I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. I am blessed and thankful for you taking the time to read.

More soon... Off to Atlanta.

Trust...and Thank you...

I'm so proud of my kids, and my wife Rhonda. I wish it were possible for you to know them-it's the only way you could understand.  I pray that you father's and husbands reading this--- it's true for you also. I still get that lump in my throat and palm sweaty feeling when I see Rhonda... and I couldn't live without my children-They really are the greatest gifts. Ian wants to be me, and I want to be Evelyn. Thank you three for putting up with me these past few months.

I've learned I can accept pretty much anything in life when it comes to failure, or potential  failure, of serious things---being a son, a brother, friend, an employee, an athlete...whatever. Very Extreme examples I know, but you understand the depth of thought here. However, to fail as a father and a husband?....Forget it.  I'm  not sure how I would cope. For the sake of simplicity (and time), to list all the circumstances for this to happen would be nearly impossible, and honestly, improbable. Why? Because I wouldn't allow it.  Just like I'll never get a DUI or jailed for breaking and entering-I'll never not have those closest to me realize they are not....the closest to me. Some things you just don't do.

Where am I going with this??

One word....

trust.

For one,  my trust and hope is in Christ, first and foremost. Actually my whole family has our foundation in this. We place our trust in Him. But, personally-I've trusted in other things, people, places, items, whatever...
It doesn't work. Those who do this and say it does? Give it time.

Both Rhonda and I are teaching this to Evelyn and Ian, they get it. How do I know this? Today I talked to my son on the phone and asked him how the overnight birthday party was he had at a friends house.

"Ian!! How was your sleepover?!"
"It was good Dad"....
"What did you do little man?"
"Well....I played video games and watched movies. But...."
"But-what?"
"Well....I didn't watch the movies-instead, I just hung out and played video games..."
"Why Ian?"
"Eh....I thought you probably would not want me to watch them-so, I told the other guys this and just played games-they laughed a bit, but....it's cool"...



I made sure Ian could not feel through the phone my eyes welling up...(He knows me better than most and can tell the second my mood changes).."Ian-I am so freaking proud of you dude".  He knew I was serious, and for him to take a stand secured another root in trust for the future. It was so cool. I could write for hours about Evelyn and Rhonda too-but, the point is..again, trust. Building it, believing it, keeping it.

Reflecting on this little event today started me thinking on the word trust. Little word. BIG topic. Bigger emotion, and huge undertow if you don't have it. Now-in my life as an athlete I'm learning it could very well be the biggest piece of the puzzle-of my puzzle. Seriously...It's the cog, the M A C H I N E. Trying to convey it in a personal way like my family or the story above...kinda deep I know. Like, coffee and sitting by a fire talking deep. I know, I know... borderline "artsy", but you get it.

As an Ironman triathlete-it's really very, very easy to 'trust'. I've not always thought this way, or even done it. Matter of fact I'm actually realizing I might even be a little "new" to the trust game as it pertains to my athletics-despite the time spent building. It sucks, but heading deeper down the path of commitment to excellence, crap covered up, gets...uncovered.  Willingly or unwillingly-doesn't matter. Once you see it, you  have to deal with it. For me-honestly...it's trust.

Am I an athlete that fumbles this? Are you? Is GSP? Silva? Ryan Hall? What about Crowie or Dave Scott?
Here is my point-I've mentioned I had the blessing to become good friends with Chris Boudreaux a pro Triathlete that lives in Portland.  We click. Coffee, music, conversation. One of those things that happen and feels unforced and easy,  It's cool. Despite my results or future athletic relationship with him-we will stay friends,  and that's the only thing that matters. He's been instrumental in pushing and training me in way's I can feel the work sticking.  Chris is level, grounded, gifted. Honest. Of all the things and insight he has shared and coached me in, the major sticking point is trust. It's not like some secret trick or pro secret either. It's very--matter of fact.  Along with other things placed in proper order, trust in my abilities and training is paramount. Chris doesn't over think things. This is awesome because--- I do.  His coaching is smart, and thoughtful.  But from a "theory" based perspective-it's like U2's early albums. Nuts and Bolt's. Haul wood, carry water. Yes of course there is finesse and detail-but, the major key he's seared into my thick skull is trust. Over and over. In my preparation, ability, training, plan.  No, it's not..."Trust your inner flow of being and transcendental illumination of pigmentation for which mother earth birthed you for"...It's "Look, you are ready. Trust that you have done what you need to do. Now go do it".


My encouragement to you is the same. Find ways to reflect on what you have done to prepare for the event you are competing in and trust the digging is done.  Did you see the NBC broadcast of the IM World Championship? Crowie has a ritual that involves rereading his training diary before races. Why?  To embed trust in his own mind. In a sport already hard enough why not trust the millions of tiny decisions you have made to get to the line?  Why have I struggled with this after all these years?
I trust you Chris and what you have taught me.  I trust myself and know that I am ready.  For this I am grateful. I am blessed and thankful for your coaching.

While I am on the topic of "Thank you's" I want to say a few words to some people and sponsors for making it possible for me to be competing in Cozumel in a few days.

Oliver at RYU-dude, you are amazing.  Yes I wear RYU constantly and spread the word. Yes I believe in the product and would be in it even if I was not an athlete. Yes you have been a blessing and great supporter of my racing and passion to really change things for the better. For all of this I am SO, SO  grateful.  I am humbled that you TRUST me. As an athlete, ambassador, and advocate for you, and for RYU. Our drive and the passion of sport fit well together.  You are  with me when I train-on my body and in my heart.  I love wearing RYU colors to battle.  I fight for RYU. Thank you for your kindness.

KC, Mark, and Living Fuel.  You were one of the first who believed in me.  I'm so stoked to still be on your team and am so thankful for your support and nutrition (both product, books, and advice). Thank you so much for letting me always call, e-mail, and basically bug you. You have never made me feel like anything other than family.  I love you guys.

Ron from Vuelta. I really don't know what to say??  You have made it possible for me to have, ride, and compete on amazing wheels.  Also-It's because of you I was able to compete at Ironman Louisville-I am forever grateful for that. I still am on the hunt for those seven minutes. When find them, you'll be my first call.

Steve Jossi I am glad we are friends.  It's been great to get to know you and your family and I appreciate the support and honest encouragement.  Your kindness will not be forgotten...and, I will pay for lunch sometime.

I know the topics on my blog have shifted back and forth between my passions, work in Haiti, and Africa.  I have talked about my favorite bands and family-more like a "log of thoughts", rather than a triathlete. After Cozumel I will continue to focus on the "Taxi Initiative" mainly because it's the launching point for my new push in working with Mountain top Ministries  and More Than Sport, but, I will also focus a bit more on Triathlon and training.  I've got some big plans and will be tackling some big stuff in regards to training and preparation. I'll do my best and pass on some pointers and help to all of you. Please-feel free to ask anything at anytime.

Thank you to all who have read my blog and thoughts.  I know maybe only a precious few-but again, I give it my all.

Why because..at the end of all this it's about relationships.

Trust me.

Sitting here, thinking.....Three weeks.

It's close and I'm thankful--That's what keeps going through my head.  I recently fought off a little bout with a cold, and now on my way back I think nothing of what I call "lost" time, and only what's to come.  How many times have I let detours distract me only to find them instrumental. Four day's ago as I sulked in my heart, and whispered under my breath how pissed I was that I was getting sick-I strolled into Fred Myers to get some tea and weapons to fight the little army invading my lungs and thoughts.  No sooner had I built camp around how horrible life is when I was halted by a nurse pushing a man in a wheelchair.

It was obvious-he was riddled with disease.

What is it about my human heart that so easily finds ways to jump ship?  I was ashamed....Like I am when I take for granted a friend, or my position as a father, or the privileged place of being married to my best friend. Shame is a horrible, horrible monster.  It's not guilt, or regret--emotions dealt in spades by satan himself.  Shame is sinister. It's understanding that I have taken hold of my life and realized how impossible it is to control, and with a dropped chin and mumbling voice I ask God to take it back. "Uh....I'm an idiot"...

I know this is a much deeper topic and drawing it together with sport is a bit of a stretch.  Point is....No matter what, I feel blessed. Despite what I think at the time, getting lost in the moment and loosing sight of the bigger picture is quite easy when outside forces are at work. Like in a race-- pain, discomfort, the inability to focus, is easy when we sulk.

Thank you Jesus for taking my shame.  It's easy to find this small example in my life evidence that you LOVE me.

In a few weeks when it hurts-help me think of how crappy I felt this week.  How I was healed and got through the few nights of coughing and fever. How that man I saw in his wheelchair would give anything to be running......

Thanks for reading.

New blog later this week about The Taxi Initiative, More Than Sport, and Mountain Top Ministries.  Also a few updates and Thank you's.