it’s only 13.1 miles from hooters to church

My wife and I ran a half marathon last Sunday that was sponsored by the Hooters in my home town.

I had no intentions of running this race, as I had spent exactly zero effort training for a race of this distance. My wife, on the other hand did, and I was there to cheer on my sweety pie. (plus she looks hot in her running garb). We got there early enough to give her time to sign in and stretch with plenty of time for us to chat about how cold it was that morning. We kept warm in the car until just before the race and she made her way to the starting line. Somewhere in the middle of that, I decided that I had no idea what I was going to do for two hours while she was gone…

So I signed up an ran the race.

I am very happy to announce that, thanks to my spur of the moment decision to punish my entire body for an amount of time that pains me to repeat, I have come up with an extremely relevant and tangible explanation for a question that occasionally crosses through every Christians cerebellum which you will find right next to their medulla oblongata, located in their limbic system.

Why do I have to go to Church?

When I hit the starting line I was surrounded by people, but I didn’t know anyone. I was not sure where I was going or where the path led to. I had no idea what it was going to take for me to endure my journey nor did I know if I was going to be able to finish it. I was not prepared and I had not trained enough. All I had was an ephemeral urge coupled with an overwhelming trepidation of tedium. (I used a thesaurus for 5 of the last 9 words). Plus it cost me 40 bucks to enter.

Sound familiar?

You go to church. There are all those people that you don’t know. You are not sure exactly why you are there or where it will get you. You don’t know what kind of effort you will need to put in or if you will be in it for the long haul. You don’t feel prepared or properly trained. You’re just bored and empty and you have nothing better to do at the moment. On top of all that, it cost you WAY more than the race entry fee at the end of the month thanks to those baskets they pass around.

So the gun fires… and off you go.

You follow the crowd for a time and the excitement that surrounds you carries you for a while. Adrenalin numbs your pain and you mindlessly endure the first few moments. Then you look up to find that you’re on your own again. Face to face with the journey, a little tentative, a little scared, a little concerned. The more you progress, the harder each step becomes. Your mind wanders, your focus drifts, your intensity starts to dwindle.

Am I talking about running or attending church?

Then you get to a mile marker and 20 volunteers are there cheering you on, handing you nourishment, and praising your efforts. You look ahead and there are a few more pointing you down the right roads in the attempt to keep you on track. This pattern keeps repeating itself, thankfully. Then you start to familiarize yourself with the folks that are traveling with you at the same pace, with similar steps and challenges. As you get more comfortable you interact and absorb the vibe of the environment and the fact that you are not alone. As a mater of this fact, you are surrounded by like minded people with similar goals and complementing motivation.

Some could compare that with a congregation of believers.

The more I interacted with folks; the more enjoyable my experience became. I must tell you that I began purposely high five-ing anyone that made eye contact with me during my race. It made no mater if they were watching, volunteering, passing me, being passed by me, or walking their dog. I realized that I was on to something that was gloriously revealing, and I could not stop myself from going “back to the well” continuously.

There were 3 specific stages of my race that gave me a crystal clear understanding of Gods intention when creating the idea of church as we misunderstand it.

1) Running the race alone. This was hard, uncomfortable and not conducive to a fulfilling experience.

2) Running while aware of my support. This was easier to bear, exciting, and motivating.

3) Running after being touched by another. This was electrifying. Each physical and emotional connection fueled my strides. I felt as though I was being carried during the moments of interaction and I raced toward my next chance encounter.

This, my friends, IS church.

If you are reading this blog, then you have access to a bible that you can read on your own. If you have an income, you can send a tithe by mail anywhere you want. If you have an IPod you can listen to more services and lessons that are probably better than the ones that you listen to from the pastor at your home church. You can download christian music and worship in your car on your way to the golf course and break off a piece of your hot-dog bun at the turn and declare it the Body of Christ.

That’s all good in the eyes of the Lord.

However, you are robbing yourself of the true intention of church provided by our almighty God. You are robbing yourself of “genuine community”. This race was never meant to be run alone. I got news for your….it CAN”T be run alone. Those volunteers are there to serve you whether you decide to take advantage of their generosity or not.

So why not…

scrapping you children’s childhood

I am in the process of changing out my son’s room decor.

You see, he is thirteen now and the Ralph Lauren Denim faux finish that I had on the accent wall and beneath the leather chair rail with the accented belt loops from worn out jeans was no longer appropriate. It made no matter that I hand painted every double stitch line between the 24″ sections of perceived fabric. It was inconsequential that I outlined each outlet and switch plate to look like a pocket on the back of your most comfortable pair of Levi’s. Oh did I forget to mention that I made a loft bed for him, with a desk/workspace underbelly, from scratch out of lumber that I hand selected, sanded, and stained from our local home improvement emporium.

spiritual back fat

re-up (rē-ŭp’)

1. To enlist again for service.
2. To sign a renewed contract for employment or service.

There are very few things in life that we don’t have to reenlists in to continue loyal service. Excluding death and taxes, it takes a concerted effort to continue the efforts that it takes to carry on whatever it is that we are involved in. There are specific moments in our everyday lives, that are often unnoticed but clearly defined (usually in hind site), where you decided to “press on” or “give up” on a desire. There is a distinct fork in the road during every one of these journeys that causes us to make a choice as to where our efforts would be better spent.

(I just read that paragraph 3 times and I am not sure that I understand what I just said.)

Let’s try it this way.

love has an aftertaste

I have yet to meet a person that actually likes eating Candy Hearts.

Even with that being said; once Valentine’s Day rolls around, I cannot seem escape them. I trip over the pyramids that are stacked to the ceiling of every retail establishment that I enter. I notice them on the counters of hostess stands across our great nation of eateries. I see them on every hard working Americans desk wedged between their Swingline Stapler and the chrome balls clacking on a string swing thing.

I have seen people grab them by the handfuls and transfer them to some alternate location. I have witnessed people fingering through the assortment to find one that perfectly fits their joke-of-the-minute. I have been a bystander and noticed the disappointing look on a persons face that was remiss in remembering what they experienced the last time they plucked one of these candy excuses into their mouth.

trick your wife into loving you more

“I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.”          —Robert McCloskey

Let the analogy begin:

When (I repeat “when”) I workout regularly, I try to “trick” my muscles. I try not to do the same exercises, reps and sets for each and every workout. I try to shock my muscles into growing and adapting to new stimuli, so I make sure to always switch up my training routines, number of sets and reps for each training session. Also, I make sure to train at a high level of intensity and really push each set to positive failure (barely getting the last rep up).

I focus on increasing the weight lifted or the distance traveled. I know that if my muscles get used to lifting a specific amount of weight or run/bike/swimming a certain distance, then they will never want to get stronger or grow. I try to trick my muscles with different reps/sets and keep my intensity levels up high enough so they always are forced to make changes and grow. This is a proven fact and cannot easily be argued.

Some questions for me, as of late, have been based on this theory and how it pertains to my relationship with my wife.

the day i came out of the closet

Name something that you did but wish you didn’t.

Allow me to rephrase that in the attempt to better capture your attention and increase the chances of you reading on.)

Name something that you didn’t realize that you did until after you did it and looked back at how you potentially just damaged your marriage forever. Something that was so stupid and meaningless at the time, but possibly made a statement that it had the power to permanently scar the bond what you have built with your spouse to date. An action that was so poorly planned and so horribly executed that, if you showed it in slow motion, could be viewed as more painful than Britney’s MTV Music Awards extravaganza.

I will paint the picture for you, but I must warn you of a few things…

JT

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ask and you shall receive…just not right now

“Egg Hut Tree Hack Shin”

Have you ever concentrated so hard on what you were saying that it was unclear what you were thinking when you said it?

I know that sometimes I get so wrapped up in the obvious that I miss the actual message. I can be so concerned with my opinion and what seems logical, that I become vindicated due to my understanding of the given situation. I fight the flow of any other solution, never considering it plausible. Some people call that “Jumping to Conclusions”; others call it “Ambiguity”; but what it really is, is ”Stubbornness”.

“Sea Can’t Higher Dove Fit”

Other times we just had a different idea of what we were trying to accomplish. Our intentions didn’t quite match our impact. In some cases they were polar opposites. We didn’t take time to fully understand our possible audience and the results were disastrous.

that’s what dad’s are faux

Name something that you have never done, have never thought about doing, and could care less if you ever wind up doing it before you die…

For my son it was painting.

I must preface this article by saying that there isn’t anything in, or around a house that I can’t build, fix, or enhance from a do-it-yourself, home improvement perspective. I can change out plumbing fixtures, work on electrical fittings, hang drywall, set tile, hang an entry door, install a garage door opener, set up an irrigation system, install roofing, build furniture, and, oh yeah, paint.

 I would go as far as to say that I am such a good painter, that you may even consider it a “super power”. I work a cutting brush like Dare Devil works his walking stick; I roll better than The Caped Crusader in his Bat-Mobile Whip; and when the mood hits me, I can faux paint in almost any technique known to both human man or altered beast. I have ragged on, ragged off, stripped, sponged, stamped, and Venetian plastered just to name a few. I move fast and I work clean. If I were this super hero, you would probably call me “The Amazazaing Painter Man”, “The Super Spreader”, or maybe just “Michaelangelo Got Nothing on Me Stud”. I would fly around town in a paint pelted smock and ward off  the “White Wall Gang” with the fury of my mighty Corona brushes. All the while having my nemesis (The Evil Dr. Odorless Mineral Spirits) continually attempt to ruin my plans for a world that complements itself like a properly selected accent wall…

a greater tolerance for chaos

“Every time I have the opportunity to sin, I have the opportunity to bear fruit of the spirit as well. In a momentary flash; I can choose self-control or allow my eyes to wander. I can choose kindness or let a bit of vindictiveness leak out. What determines which one wins? In my life it’s largely the level of incubation.” 

                       —Ron Martoia , morph! ,  2003

Hmmmm…

I read this paragraph in Ron’s book a few years ago and again, a few days ago. Then I did my favorite thing I do when I come across something I want to absorb for a while; I went for a run. A “business as usual” run except I turn down my headphones to a faint mumble (for background filler only), and allow my kooky brain to grind up what I have learned and make it relevant enough to apply to something that I am going through at the moment.

how big are your knockers

“Sometimes we stare so long at a door that is closing that we see too late the one that is open.”     —Alexander Graham Bell

I wrote a blog, about a week ago, that started out with a proposition. I stated that anyone who performed a certain act, could be rewarded by me becoming their best friend for 2 weeks. Not just a regular friend, but a BEST FRIEND.

So, it appears that a few hundred people clicked on whatever led them to my article. I will assume that half started to read and decided not to finish, and the other half were successful in achieving the goal.  Of that, half probably didn’t need any extra friends, and a few more just didn’t want ME as one of them. That leaves me with an apparent 25 to 40 new BEST FRIENDS.

But here is the part that I don’t understand…

None of them took advantage of the opportunity.  I was not asked to babysit, cut their grass, pet their cat, or paint their house. Not one person asked me for a lift to the store, a shoulder to cry on, or a pot to tinkle in. No one asked me for help, advice, prayer, money, time, love, understanding, or my opinion.

i spit in your general direction

I will be your best friend for two weeks if you make it through these next two paragraphs without falling into a hypnotic trance of boredom….

On your mark, get set, go…

A “Brain Trust” was the name given to a diverse group of economists, professors, and others who served as advisors to U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt during the early period of his tenure. These men played a key role in shaping the policies of the First New Deal. Although they never met together as a group, they each had Roosevelt’s ear.

The term “Brain Trust” was first coined in 1901 and used in a sarcastic sense in reference to the first American general staff of the U.S. President. In 1932, New York Times writer James M. Kiernan revived the term when he applied it to the close group of experts that surrounded presidential candidate Franklin Roosevelt. The term has since been applied in general sense to any close group of advisors.

I wonder where he got that idea… (click insert, hmmmm)

being a husband is not a “big deal”

Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave himself for her.   —Ephesians 5:25

I have mentioned this verse in a few different blogs, but I regret (’regret’ is a whole other blog) that I misunderstood its meaning early in my relationship with my wife. I think that I missed opportunities to practice this with regularity because I always waited for some extraordinary situation to apply my “man powers” to, so that I could save the day in true “Super-Husband” fashion. After all, Christ DIED for the church; so I was prepared to do the same for my wife. As a result, I always kept my ears open for signs of a natural disaster, terrorist attacks, or global thermo nuclear war. I was ready for the worst, and I knew I would protect my wife, at any cost. I was looking to make a “big deal” out of my efforts, and I was WAITING for it.

my wife likes to see me tied up

I have a job that requires that I wear a tie.

I have a few secrets that I use to insure that I get a good knot, the right length, and a perfect dimple. I am pretty good at it, but that was not always the case. Back in the day, I used to struggle a bit with the tie thing. I would do the best I could and just deal with the results. I wore them so infrequently, that I paid very little mind to the finished product.

Now that it is a daily ritual, I have learned a few things.

If I tie it too short, it looks sloppy. It draws attention away from the rest of my “get up” because it looks like I should be popping out of a Volkswagen with 20 more “face painted” friends at a Ringling Brothers event. If I tie it to long, it looks like I am trying to hide a coffee stain from a poorly placed coffee cup during my drive to work. Additionally, it gets caught on stuff and it seems to get in the way all day.

When I pull it too tight, it restricts my breathing and my movement. When I wear it too loose, it looks unprofessional. The point is that, more so than learning how to make it match, I had to learn how to tie it properly according to my shirt style, collar type, and pants positioning. I had to learn what it took to get the right results and then try to repeat those steps daily.

bench press your kids

Having a workout partner is a big help when you are trying to achieve your fitness goals.

1. Safety - Your partner can watch your workout, make sure you are using proper form and spot you when lifting during heavy sets.

2. Time - When you set up a time to meet at the gym, your partner is waiting and expecting you to be there. If you train on your own you might find an excuse not to show up.

3. Motivation - When you train together you motivate each other to be the best that you can during that session. A little motivation goes a long way, especially on days that you don’t feel like training.

4. Fun - Having a partner makes the workout more enjoyable. You can joke around and talk about your day which helps stave off the boredom of a workout.

5. Competition - A little healthy competition between you and your partner will likely occur - after all, we are only human.

For better or for worse, in thin times or fat, vow to workout with your partner!

I think that we can all agree that raising children is a bit of a workout. In some cases it seems like it would be easier to just sit around and eat the Bon Bons that life places in front of us as opposed to practicing to eat healthier slices of life. In other cases it seems like it would be easier to sit on the couch of exhaustion that parenting provides you, rather than bench pressing your daily responsibilities. I mean, wouldn’t we all rather sleep in a bed of silence rather than run in the noise of reality?

with all due respect

I worked for a pretty big retail organization for more than half of my professional career.

I will try not to give away the name of the company in the attempt to protect your decision to continue shopping there, if need be. So please understand that if I use the words “home improvement”, “orange apron”, or “The Depot”; it is out of coincidence, and in no way am I trying to give away the fact that I worked for Home Depot for 12 plus years in store management.

With that (not) being said…

Have you noticed that the only people that think you can actually find “excellence in customer service” in these stores are the Depot employees that don’t actually have to perform the service? You know what I mean, don’t you? There are a slew of big shots (that don’t wear the orange aprons with their name Sharpied on them), sitting in a huge conference room (with those cool leather chairs with the gold buttons on them) writing a Standard Operating Procedure (that makes The Bible look like a 2 point AR book) for “helping another human being” figure out where the light bulbs are located in the store.

what’s in a name

I Run, therefore I am a Runner.

If I practice running, I can be a better Runner. If I don’t practice running, I will be a poor Runner. If I take care of my Runners body, I can run more efficiently. If I loose focus, as a Runner, I can become injured and possibly loose my ability to run.

I can choose how fast to run, how long to run, what direction to run, and how often to run. I can chose not to run as much or to run twice as much. I can run whenever and wherever I choose to (in most cases). How I run is totally up to me…

…but whatever I choose, I remain a Runner.

I was not always a Runner. It didn’t always suit me. There was a time when I choose not to run and didn’t see myself ever aspiring to be called a Runner. Then I made a choice to learn how to run, practice running, and now I actually enjoy running. It didn’t happen overnight, but by definition, when I decided to start doing it…I became a Runner.

how’s your credit score

I have received some very nice accolades, as of late, from my new friends in Blogtopia.

I am not sure if there is etiquette to this award giving thing; so I will error on the side of better judgment by paying forward a few complements and giving credit where credit is due. The under named persons / sites have been a part of my daily routine for quite some time now. Sometimes I read and enjoy, sometimes I read and think, and sometimes I read and ignore. The important thing, to me, is that I always read.

I look forward to each of them for different reasons. The comments that I leave for them are sometimes value added statements (in my opinion), and other times they are just nonsense; attempting to be humorous. Sometimes I reply to try to be a blessing; and other times I reply just to let them know that I came to visit. So without further delay, I present to you, some of my newest friends:

PS: I made the awards myself…that’s how much I care…

sexual chocolate

For this experiment, you will need:

٠ (1) 8 to 10 oz glass with a wide mouth ٠ (1) Teaspoon٠ Your favorite percentage of milk 

٠ (4-6) Oreo Cookies (non-refrigerated) ٠ (1) napkin

First take out your Oreos and stack them one over the other anywhere on the napkin and on your kitchen, dining, or coffee table. Place the spoon so that the belly of the utensil is also on the napkin. (This is to insure that any and all residue that may have been mistakenly left behind from your child’s last eating experience does not interfere with your quest for ecstasy.) Then get your glass and go to the fridge. (Glass first so that you do not waste the precious time that your milk spends out of the refrigerator). Fill it with milk leaving anywhere from ½ to 1 full inch before the rim. Walk briskly, with milk in hand to your prepared Oreo stack and sit down with authority. Can you feel the excitement building in your loins?

Now, take the top Oreo between your thumb and index finger and submerse vertically just past its equator. Count, internally, to 4. (Don’t ask…just do it) Then release the cookie so that it floats in the milk like the last moments of the Titanic before it plunges into the sea. It will sink in its position, and when it disappears into the milk, grab the spoon and scoop it out.

drawing conclusions

My father didn’t tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it.
—Clarence Budinton Kelland

One of our more recent trips as, as a family, was to one of the Orlando Florida theme parks.

We usually are very careful of what we spend our money on. We try to stick to the essentials. Churros, soda products, smoothie bars, candy, stupid hats that will never be used again, adult beverages, figurines, stuffed animals, ponchos, fake tattoos, and dip-n-dots. (This list is not all inclusive, but is an excellent indication that even a Floridian can fall victim to the tourist traps we have set for you Northerners).

One thing that my wife and I learned a long time ago is that there is not an artist in the Continental United States that is talented enough to capture our image in the form of a caricature. There have been many-a-men to try; but non up to the challenge. We learned this so early in our relationship that we have saved millions of dollars in failed attempts while protecting the confidence of artists across our great divide.

Then we met a man.

I did not know this man. We will call him “Artist X”. He was confident and cunning at his craft. He was proud and boastful. He even bellowed like one of Robin Hood’s Merry Men when I approached him with a challenge…