Great Start

This year is starting out big, right on the heels of Mark shipping off to Iraq, Ian Andrew Fuchtman arriving on the planet, and qualifying for the Boston January has already seen the successful Waltzing incident and yesterday, after several years of waiting, planning, scheming, learning Irish tunes on pennywhistle, saving, shopping, and dreaming I finally did it- I ordered my first set of Uillean bagpipes. Bagpipes. I am ecstatic. So is Susan….

The first step is the hardest

I received my Boston Marathon Acceptance Card in the mail today! I qualified in December, and registered right away, but didn’t receive official word until today. My sister lives close by, so I will have a great chance to see her as well as run the marathon. All I need is buy plane tickets and run 600 miles.

Revenge of the Little People

I wrote my blog last night fully expecting to be writing a long sob-story tonight about the defeat of the waltz experiment. However, those little people turned out to be waltzing geniuses. No kidding, several times during the day I found myself looking out over a sea of young’ns moving all together, gracefully waltzing in unison. Granted, it wasn’t like that all the time, and some of them never ever got one step right the whole time. But at times it was poetry in motion. I wish you could have seen the concentration on their faces as they marked out little boxes with their dancing feet on the gym floor. Especially the 2^nd graders. Those little brains were working overtime!

Like Haley’s Comet, this spectacular event may not occur again for a long, long time. So I’m writing it down tonight to mark the day.

Also, I thought a lot more about the sermon (at least the part I heard) today and very little about the “nail” in that guy’s ear, so maybe God intervened. But I keep wondering what to call that part of you ear that looks like a worm. Does it have a name?

We'll See

Rose colored waltzes
Tomorrow I am going to attempt to teach children to waltz. That will be my part for the infamous “Motion Monday.” I can see the little humans gracefully bobbing to the music, all of them gliding along together, enjoying moving to the music while their young brains make connections between moving, listening, socializing.

Well I can dream, can’t I?

Stay tuned….

Ears to hear
I should have been listening, but it looked like he had a nail sticking out of the back of his ear. This guy was two rows up, directly in my line of sight to the pastor. So shiny it caught my eye, especially when he turned his head so the light hit it square on. Then he turned his head completely to the side and I didn’t see a nail, or a big ear post (or whatever they call that stuff) or anything - just his ear. I couldn’t quit looking, so shiny and metallic. How did it get there? How did it stay there.

Then I noticed how much the edge of a human ear looks like a fat worm. So I started checking out other people’s ears. All the same, like a worm.

Sorry God. I’ll try to pay better attention next week…

Links to family Christmas videos:

http://www.vimeo.com/463586

http://www.vimeo.com/463598

More Catching Up

NEW LIFE

Ian Andrew Fuchtman was born December 17, 2007. Susan and I couldn’t be there, but we did video chat with Andy and family a few hours after the birth. It was so amazing to see them all and talk with them, even if only on the computer screen.

A week later I was holding the little guy in my own hands. He’s beautiful, smart, easy to talk to, loves jazz and Beethoven, and is an avid Bronco fan. (Well, OK, he likes the Packers too.) What more could you ask?

At one point, out of the blue, I had the coolest experience with God. I don’t know why, but the miracle of Ian’s birth and life washed over me and I felt aware of and close to God in a way I haven’t for some time. I thought of the Book, “He is there and He is not silent.” Somehow holding that little guy ripped right through the doubts and haziness which plague me, and my mind was flooded with experiences I have had with God, and the many times He has graciously pursued a relationship with me, and I remembered afresh why I believe.

There is still a huge gap between the way I live and the way I know I should live; between God’s relationship towards me and mine towards God. But, somehow, the fight seems easier today than before.

WAR IS FOR WARRIORS

Mark left for Iraq in early December. How could I ever describe sending my son off to war? I have no ability to describe to you the mixture of pride, fear, adventure, terror, anticipation, sadness, hope, love. At that moment, there is so much to say, and no words can express it.

We have been sending Mark off on adventures for years: to Mongolia, to China, to India. So in some ways, this was familiar territory. But this one is definitely another level altogether.

Throughout the ages young men have gone off to battle and come home stronger, deeper, better people. This is my hope and prayer.

WHITE ROCK MARATHON

On December 9 at 12:34 PM I reached a goal I had been working toward for over 5 years. I crossed the finish line of the White Rock Marathon. That step stopped the clock at 3 hours, 33 minutes, and 33 seconds which was good enough to qualify for the Boston Marathon.

Running a marathon, and in the required time is a huge project, but it turned out to be the easiest step towards my goal. I ran 3:14 in Des Moines in 2004 but couldn’t get off work to run in Boston. (They run it on a Monday.) In both 2005 and 2006 I nearly completed the 16 week training ramp-up when I pulled a muscle and had to stop.

This time around I decided to cut out all fast training (fast, keep in mind, is relative – remember I’m FIFTY years old) and only did easy, tempo, and long runs. That kept me injury-free, but I wondered if it would be enough to meet my time goal. I was prepared mentally too, knowing that the brain can tank a marathon runner as easy as the legs. During the race I thought only positive, happy thoughts – no worries. I gazed around at the turning leaves and beautiful houses, (some of the other runners teased me a bit about site-seeing) chatted with various runners along the way, scampered up the Dolly Partons (two consecutive large hills at mile 19 at which runners are greeted by large men in wigs, dresses and, well, you know) and maintained a positive mind set.

Somewhere around mile 22 things got a little dicey (I’ll spare you the details). At this point in the story I have to tell you that I cannot, no kidding, I cannot do math in my head while I’m running. I checked my stop watch and tried to do the math. I produced a number that was not happy. I tried to do the math again, ending up with a different number, still not a happy one. Several more attempts produced differing results. All of a sudden I was faced with the reality that after all this time, all this careful injury-free training, running 22 positive-in-the-face-of-aching-body miles I could end up missing my time by minutes or even seconds. I chucked the “Positive mindset” and ran like hell.

No worries, I had a full 90 seconds to spare.