2011 Country Music Half Marathon Highlights

Random thoughts, in no particular order, about this morning's Country Music Half Marathon -

1. My morning got off to an inauspicious start, as the cab I'd reserved last night wasn't here at 6 a.m., as promised by the taxi company.  When I called to find out what was going on, I quickly realized there was little or no chance a cab would arrive in time to take me to West End Avenue, near the starting line, before the race started.  Somehow, the people at the taxi company hadn't realized there would be road closings, lots of people calling for cabs, etc.  Needless to say, I was pissed.  Near panic, I called my friend, Hal Humphreys, woke him up and he picked me up within minutes.  We took a circuitous route to avoid the road closings and he dropped me off in plenty of time for the race.  Crisis averted.

2. I love the new (old) course.  This year, partly due to the increasing number of participants (30,000 last year and this year), the race organizers altered the course and added a leg on 12th Avenue in 12South and another leg through the heart of the neighborhoods off Woodland Street in East Nashville.  It was pretty similar to the course the year the race returned to Nashville a decade ago, when I ran the marathon.

3. As I ran up 12th Avenue, my heart soared when I saw Jude, J.P. and Hal sitting in front of Rumor's Wine Bar at mile 7.  When J.P. saw me, he broke into a big grin and started waving at me.  I stopped, picked him up and gave him a kiss, hugged Jude, then got back to the race.  It was great.

4. The weather couldn't have been any nicer.  At 7 a.m., the race started under a brilliant blue sky with the temperature in the high 50s.  Perfect weather for a race.  Just before the race started, I turned and looked back down West End Avenue (I was in corral 2) and saw almost 30,000 people lined up behind me.  It was pretty cool. 

5. A police office - an older guy - stuck his hand out and gave me five as I passed the intersection of West End Avenue and 19th Street.

6. I ran in a pack that included "Supergirl" for a while - a woman in a blue skirt with stars on it and a red cape.  I also saw a few guys wearing viking helmets, running the marathon.  Weird. 

7. The last 2 miles were tough, as the usually are in a half marathon.  I was beat at that point and ready for the race to be over.  I kept checking and rechecking my watch to see how much further I had to go (always a sign I'm tiring).  I was very, very relieved when I started across the Woodland Street Bridge and approached LP Field.  I finished in 1:44:01, ahead of my target time of 1:50:00, so I was pleased.

8. After I finished the race, I walked up Woodland Street to my truck, which I'd left in a church parking lot the night before.  I opened my cooler and poured myself a beer that had been icing down all night long (obviously, not my first rodeo).  I may or may not have had a second, ice cold beer.

9. I drove up Main Street and parked near 5 Points in East Nashville.  I walked over to Woodland Street and, for about an hour, I cheered the marathoners on at the top of a long, gradual hill.  It's always emotional for me to watch marathoners running, probably because I've been where they are, mentally and emotionally.  There weren't a lot of spectators where I was standing, so the runners appreciated my encouragement.  It was cool.

Overall, a good race and another Country Music Half Marathon in the books.

Talkin' Baseball

Jude and J.P. at Greer Stadium during our first Sounds' game of the season.

Easter Egg Hunt

Last Saturday, we had our annual Easter Egg Hunt at St. Patrick.  J.P. enjoyed himself immensely.

Kim & J.P.

J.P. and our talented friend and writer extraordinaire, Kim Green.  We stopped by for "Annual Annual Day," the day each year when she and her mother plant annuals at Kim's house.  Kim and her husband, Hal Humphreys, live on Halcyon Avenue and always have one of the best backyard flower gardens in 12South.  

Signs

Lately, I've been a bit down.  That's unusual for me, because I'm generally a pretty upbeat person.  I laugh a lot, smile a lot and generally enjoy life.  I wouldn't necessarily call it a crisis of faith or anything like that, but I've been struggling.

A week ago Sunday, I finally cleaned out the console between the front seats in my truck.  It had become so filled with junk (loose change, receipts, pens, cd's, etc.) that I could barely close it.  Rather than sort through the contents of the console as I sat in my truck, I unloaded everything in it into a small box.  Everything.  Even a few, stray clothes pins.

Monday, I was driving J.P. to my mom's house, on my way to work.  On the interstate, a lady changed lanes without checking her blind spot, causing me to swerve into another lane of traffic to avoid an accident.  Without thinking, I let her know how angry I was by honking the horn and holding it down for about 10-15 seconds.  I didn't yell anything at her - fortunately - but when I turned around, I noticed J.P. was just sitting quietly in his car seat, staring at me.  Immediately, I felt guilty that I was setting a bad example for him.

A few minutes later, I dropped J.P. off at my mom's house, then pulled out of her driveway and headed to work.  I guess I had the Monday blues, because I just felt unhappy.  Unhappy with myself, work, etc.    During the drive, I opened the console for no apparent reason, temporarily forgetting I'd emptied it out the day before.  Inside, I saw a white business card, face down, its brightness in sharp contrast to the gray color of the inside of the console.

That's weird, I thought.  I know the console was completely empty after I cleaned it out yesterday.

I turned the business card over in my hand, as I drove, and read it.  There was no name on it.  Just the following:

Let Him have all your worries and cares, for He is always thinking about and watching everything that concerns you.  1 Peter 5:7

And now just as you trusted Christ to save you, trust Him, too, for each day's problems:  live in vital union with Him.  Colossians 2:6

That's all.  No name, no business, nothing.  Just two bible verses that just so happened to address perfectly the way I was feeling that morning.  If I had a question, there was the answer, right in my hands.

Here's the thing, too.  I know, I mean I know there was nothing left in the console when I cleaned it out the day before.  I would have noticed the white business card if it had been there, because I emptied everything else out of the console and it was so readily noticeable Monday morning (the white color of the business card against the gray background).

I pulled into the parking garage across from my office, lost in my thoughts as I pondered the significance of what had happened.

This is where I tell you that I never, ever park in the parking garage.  I always park behind my office or in a parking lot nearby.  The garage is always crowded and it's difficult to find a space.  I might, I mean might, park in the garage five times a year, at most.  Monday morning, though, the weather was supposed to get bad, so I just decided to park in the garage.  Very unusual for me.

I pulled into a parking space on the third level and got out of my truck.  My eyes were drawn to a nice, silver sports car - a convertible - parked directly across from me.  I stopped to admire it, then glanced down at the license plate.  It was a personalized plate and I couldn't make sense of it at first.

Then, my heart skipped a beat, as I realized what it said.

SEEKHVN

I was stunned.  Two messages or, more appropriately, signs, presented to me ten minutes apart.

Which, of course, begs the question, "Do I believe in signs?"  Yes, I do.  Do you?

Duane and J.P.

J.P. absolutely idolizes our friend, Duane Pierce.  Whenever Duane is at our house, working in the yard, J.P. insists on joining him, peppering him with questions as he works ("What's that?  What are you doing?  Do you know Neighbor Rich?").  J.P. also keeps up a running commentary of what's been going on in his life, informing Duane of recent developments, telling him about church, our neighbors, new toys, etc.

Here's a photo of Duane and J.P. on our front porch earlier this week.

"Do."

Recently, I was in the front yard, talking to Duane Pierce, a man who has worked in the yard for us the past couple of years.

Last year, among other things, Duane laid sod in our backyard and cleared out the flower garden in our front yard (which had gotten out of control).  This year, he got rid of the grass/weed mixture in our front yard and planted grass seed, the result of which should be front yard full of green grass in a few weeks.  Or so we hope.

Anyway, Duane and I were talking, and, as always, he was upbeat and in a good mood.  He told me he was having a productive week, getting a lot of things done.  Then, he told me something really interesting, something that has stayed with me since our conversation.  He said he was staying busy, following his New Year's Resolution, which was "do."

"What?" I said.

"Do," replied Duane.  "That was my New Year's Resolution.  Do.  Don't spend time talking about doing things or thinking about doing things.  Just do."  Continuing, he said, "I'm just keeping busy every day.  Do."

Smiling, I said, "wow."  I walked away, but the whole concept stayed with me.  Do.  I'm forever making several complicated New Year's Resolutions, usually firmly rooted in the idea of self-improvement.  By February, they're long forgotten.  But "do" - that's something I could work with pretty easily.

I think Duane's on to something.  It just makes sense.

Do.

Trampoline

Ayden and J.P., wrestling on the trampoline in the backyard at the Elliott's new house.

Changes in Latitudes

Last weekend, Jude, J.P. and I went to visit our friends, Rob, Anne Marie and their daughter, Ayden, at their new house in Forest Hills.  Although it's still more than a little strange not to have them two blocks away, it was great to see them at their new house.  We cooked out, drank some wine, listened to music and watched the kids play together outside.

One of the really cool things is that J.P. and Ayden are at an age (just past 3 years old) where they actually play together, as opposed to playing side by side.  As we sat in the kitchen, we could hear them talking to each other, back in Ayden's room.  It's so funny to hear them interact with each other, without any adult direction.

We all laughed as J.P. and Ayden jumped on the trampoline together.  J.P. had never been on a trampoline and he absolutely loved it.

Milestones

Milestones.  They're really starting to pile up.

J.P. is wearing, for the most part, "big boy underpants."  He's in a "big boy bed," now that we've converted his crib to a toddler bed. 

Today, J.P. had his 3-year old wellness exam with our pediatrician, Dr. Godfrey.  For the first time, he didn't cry or complain at all, even when he got a couple of shots.  That was refreshing, as typically he has a complete meltdown as soon as we arrive in the parking lot.  According to Dr. Godfrey, J.P.'s strong and healthy.  He's in the 50th percentile for weight and height.  Dr. Godfrey was particularly impressed with his vocabulary.

Tonight, as I was taking out the trash, I noticed that Jude had taken J.P.'s high chair to the garage.  Now, that's a milestone, one that makes me a little sad.  A week or two ago, J.P. went through a brief stage where he wanted to eat in his high chair again, but it only lasted a couple of nights.  Now, the high chair is gone, probably forever, and my son is growing up faster than I want him to and there's nothing I can do about it.

   

Big Boy Bed

J.P., rockin' his "big boy bed," after Jude and I converted his crib to a toddler bed last weekend.  After spending a couple of hours taking the crib apart and making one trip to Home Depot for extra parts, we understood why the instructions warned the toddler bed could not be converted back into a crib.

Anyway, J.P. is very proud of his "big boy bed."  And we're very proud of him.

Say Ahhh!

Freeze Frame

Every now and then, J.P. and I have one of moments or, if I'm lucky, one of those afternoons or evenings I wish I could freeze in time and remember forever.

Yesterday, I returned home from a Nashville Predators' matinee (they blew a 3-0 lead and lost in overtime to the Detroit Red Wings) to find Jude and J.P. working in the flower garden in our front yard on a beautiful, sunlit Saturday afternoon.  To give Jude a bit of a break, I grabbed the stroller and J.P. and I left to go for a walk.  We stopped by Bongo Java, then walked over to the soccer field at Belmont University as the late afternoon shadows lengthened.

Sadly, the soccer field at Belmont is not what it once was, as the ongoing, foolhardy construction of the new law school has taken about one-fourth of the field.  Nevertheless, we saw a couple of students kicking soccer a soccer ball into the goal.  As J.P. kicked his mini soccer ball, one of the students walked over and introduced himself as "Azad."  We learned Azad emigrated to Nashville 11 years ago from Northern Iraq, later graduating fromGlencliff High School.  Presently, he's a junior at Belmont, majoring in pre-med.

As I chatted with Azad, J.P. ran happily ran around the soccer field.  Each time he kicked his soccer ball into a small soccer goal, J.P. would turn and run in a large circle, celebrating his goal.  Azad was very friendly and after a few minutes, he leaned over J.P. and showed him how to properly kick the soccer ball.  J.P. was talking a mile a minute, asking questions, shouting "Goal!" and generally enjoying himself.

As I watched J.P., I looked around and took a mental snapshot of my surroundings - the late afternoon sliding into evening, the deep blue sky darkening ever so slightly, the hum of activity on campus as students walked and talked or got into their cars to hurry off to dinner of a night out.  I was so content and it was such a peaceful, perfect evening.  I wanted to file it away in my mind, so I could recall it later, years later, even, when things might not be so peaceful and perfect.

We said goodbye to Azad, then began our walk home.  The firemen at Station 8 were sitting our in front of the firehouse, so we stopped to say hello.  A few minutes later, we were home, just in time for dinner.