Yeah, that’s right.  Actually, kinda Big Stuff on it’s way.

So. Excited! 

Unveiling it next week.  And because you’ve been SO wonderful and patient, you faithful Go Mommy! readers get to be the first to know! 

Check back and see what all the buzz is about.

Image Credit

Photo Credit

So I’M thinking this is funny. 

I wrote a post here a couple days ago and was completely surprised to find NO feedback or response at ALL.  I mean zero.  Zip. Zilch. Nada.

I’ve been away from my computer a few days, so could only check things mobile-y, so I didn’t have the chance to really go poking around.

So imagine my surprise when I found out tonight that the Post. Wasn’t. Here.  So weird.  I mean, I looked and looked.

At last, I found that I’d inadvertently posted it to one of my super-duper-alter-ego blogs.  It was actually on…(guys, you may want to avert your eyes for this one and come back on the next paragraph)…my crafting blog!  *Horrors*

See, I have these different little facets of my personality and I’ve kinda tried to separate them in my writing for my readers’ sake.  I figure, not everybody who cares about running or midlife necessarily cares about knitting (What the Craft?!) or Jesus (What’s God Got to Do with It?) or my weird philosophical ponderings about and silliness of my crazy life (What Matters Most).

In fact, I’d taken a vacation from these blogs as well and had even considered moving them to another platform when…OOPS…I inadvertently POSTED on one of them. 

So, because I am (quite obviously) technologically challenged, even if moderately amusing from time to time as a writer, I will just provide you the link to my silly little post on that silly little (crafting) blog ***macho athletes of all genders, I promise I will not reveal to ANYONE that you were visiting a crafting blog if you take a peek at this post*** and then you can pop over there and read it for yourself. 

The post is about That New Thing that I’m trying this week.  Once I’ve given you a chance to read it, I’ll update here in a day or two about all that’s transpired since then. 

I sure wish I had a brilliant explanation for this brain fart.  Thinking…Nope.  Got nothing.  Just OOPS.  Forgive me and rest assured, I’ll to my best to make sure that it never-never-never happens again. 

I hope. 

Enjoy the post:  THAT FUN POST ABOUT THAT NEW THING SHANNON IS DOING WHICH WAS INADVERTENTLY PLACED ON THE (SHHHH) CRAFTING BLOG SHE ALSO PLAYS WITH

“IF YOU EVER WANT TO SEE WHO THE TRUE RUNNERS ARE, TAKE A PEEK OUTSIDE DURING MOTHER NATURE’S NEXT HISSY FIT.”

Photo Credit

I found this quote on when searching for images under the query:  Running in the Cold. 

If I could have found the image associated with this cool quote, I’d have given credit and a link, but it’s completely AWOL on the net.  Boo!  But I liked the quote enough to share, and I sure wish I could claim it as an original!  Best link-ish thing I could find for it, (COOL QUOTE CREDIT HERE), in case you want to hunt it down.

So I love this quote because I seriously LOVE me some cold, messy weather running.

My friend Suzanne and I promised each other we would both go out on a five or six-mile run early Sunday morning.  We live in different towns, but we’re going to report in to each other.  Kind of like a long-distance running buddy.  Then we discussed the temperature:

Suzanne:  It’s supposed to be, like, thirty-four degrees tomorrow morning.  Ugh.  Wonder how late I can get out there so it’s warmer…

Me:  YES!  I LOVE running in the cold!  Wonder how early I can get out there so it’s colder…

Suzanne:  (looking at me with a mixture of alarm and disgust)  You’re a FREAK.

Me:  I know.  It’s great.

I can’t wait to get out there Sunday morning. 

I just checked weather.com and supposed to be 38 degrees when I start my run. 

38 degrees.  Farenheit.

I. So. Can’t. Wait. 

Prediction:  Awesome.  I’ll update you later, assuming I survive. 

[Update:  Awesome run!  5 miles!  I was SO happy to be out there in running in the cold.  Felt GREAT!  Weather was 44 degrees and I was wearing my stay-warm running gear.  No gloves, though.  Not cold enough for that.  Get out there and run while it's beautiful, everybody!]

My awesome running shoes that I L-O-V-E

 Photo Credit 

Or this: 

Hockey skates. Not mine. For sure.

 Photo Credit: 

Option A: 

Today I have hockey (Ninja’s practice–leave at 6 a.m.) and hockey (amazing high school game–spectator–leave at 3 p.m.)  and hockey (awesome, but brutal, college game–spectator–no departure time, we actually will never have left the rink). 

See, Ninja (11 year-old–for one more day–ice hockey goalie on a boys’ team) has a Hockey Day ahead of her and I am Transport.  Helpful Husband is working All Day tomorrow, so really, he’s not helping so much in the Transport department.  

Option B  is:  

Run.  

And herein lies the problem.  For mamas.  Maybe for dadas too, but I really have yet to figure these guys out, so I just can’t speak for them.  The problem: 

I have a commitment to myself.  Ninja has a commitment to herself, her team, her development, her future, her possibilities, her…  You get the picture.  

Listen, if you’re a mama (parent), you probably recognize the agonizing decisions that have to be made when faced with your exercise routine versus your kids’ activities/involvement/commitments.  

And you, no doubt, surely are expecting to find some sort of get-tough motivation from this marathoning mama.  You might be predicting I’ll tell my kid to find herself a ride to her 14,952 activities she has scheduled for the day.  

Yeah!  Gotta love myself before I can love anybody else!  Gotta refill the emotional and physical tank first! Gotta take care of myself so there’s someone there to take care of those kiddos!  Of course, that’s what you’d expect from me. 

So who will be taking Ninja to her multitude of hockey commitments tomorrow?  If you’re a mama, you’ve probably already guessed it: 

Me.  

Yep.  Totally sold out on my workout for this Saturday.  Putting my Svelte-Self in the back seat and my Real-Self in the front seat as my kid sleeps while I drive an hour to get her to practice at the crack of dawn.  

Does this make me a Work-Out-Sell-Out?  Maybe.  But I hope not.  

Because years from now, my daughter might just remember the opportunities I’ve given her.  An even slimmer chance:  she might actually appreciate the opportunities I’ve given her.  But no matter what, I know for sure:  

I’ll remember the look on her sleeping face as her goalie stick rests on the pillow above her head while we drive to her early morning practice.  I’ll appreciate the chance to watch her sleep peacefully, not a single worry in the world, even though she’s navigating the turbulent ocean that is pre-teen life.  

And I’ll know I’ve contributed to something, someone, important.  Bigger than the workout, the run, the exercise schedule.  Bigger than me.  

Which is the difference between being a standard, regular Runner and being Mom-Who-Runs.  

If I’m a sell-out, then I’m a sell-out-for-my-kids.  Not every time.  But when it matters.  

The run, the sit-ups, the treadmill, will all be there later in the day.  Or even *gasp* tomorrow. 

And the wait is worth it.  

And I will be gentle with myself and stop judging myself about it. 

And for today, it is really, REALLY okay.

But here’s the idea: 

Photo Credit

Now please, before you go reading anything into this cartoon, please know I just snagged it from google images (credit given) because the lady still looked cute, even for a big girl.  Kinda like me.  So I appreciate her struggles, even though she is, well, a cartoon.

The thing is, I DID just take some super-duper-top-secret “BEFORE” photos.  I’m getting ready to start something new this Monday and I’m certain that the last quarter of 2010 is going to yield awesome results for me physically!  The Before Photos will be my evidence of how far I’ve come. 

But I am most certainly NOT going to be sharing those “Before” Pics here unless I’ve got some hottie “After” Pics of myself to post along side them.  This will take time, effort, and cooperation from my metabolism.

If you want to know why most people don’t embark on these weight-loss odysseys that require photographic evidence, I have a theory. 

I do NOT think the problem is not wanting to face one’s blubbery image on the screen.  I do NOT think the problem is embarrassment of the throngs of curiousity-seekers who might ogle at your photo like some sort of freak in a carnival tent. 

No, I’m pretty confident that the Real Issue is that Before Photos are NOT a one-person job.  There is another person clicking away at the camera to capture all that voluptuousness.  In theory, this photographer is an encourager, someone who you trust.  But the Before Photo is where theory meets reality. 

It’s ugly, people.  In so many ways.

I shall illustrate.

My photographic helpers were daughters Ninja (11 year-old tomboy) and Princess (10 year-old girlie girl). 

Princess:  Mom, you don’t look that fat.  You look cute.

Ninja:  You don’t look fat at all Mom.  (pause)  *giggle*

Me:  What?

Ninja:  (collecting herself)  No.  You look great Mom. 

Princess:  It’s just that we’re not used to seeing you with, you know, THAT (points to my XL belly sticking out between the bottom of my bright yellow running bra and the waist of my black compression shorts.)

Me:  Yes, I usually try to be more modest.  It’s not like I’m going to be wearing this get-up out at…

Princess:  (interrupting)  No, really Mom.  It’s not that you look like a hootchie or anything.  It’s just that I had no idea your belly was so…

Ninja:  (cutting her off)  Let’s take the pictures, now.  (clicks away at camera)  Okay, turn to the side now.

Me:  (turning) Like this?

Ninja:  Sure.  Yeah, Yes…Yes…  ACK!  WOW!  Oh Mom, I had no idea. 

(Princess flees from hallway photography studio, possibly in fear, possibly to avoid being caught laughing at mama.)

Me:  Nice.  Did you get the stinking picture?

Ninja:  Yeah, Mom.  Here’s your camera. 

Me:  (looking at the photos)  Ugh.  I have my work cut out for me.  Thanks for your help, girls.

Princess:  (peeking back around the corner)  You really do look cute, Mom.

Ninja:  In a silly kind of way.

Princess:  Yes, “silly.”  That’s it exactly.

Me:  (muttering to myself as I head away from the camera crew, who I imagine is now dissolving into a fit of giggles) I guess the whole experience could have been worse.

Helpful Husband:  (from the next room) What experience?

Exactly.

So this is exactly why most people do NOT put themselves through the ordeal of those Before Photos. 

Marathon training?  No problem. 

Intense cardio?  Awesome.

Strength training from hell?  Bring it. 

They are small potatoes compared to the ordeal of the Before Photos. 

But I figure if you can make it through the Before Photo ordeal, then everything else is downhill from there! 

Check back with me on December 31, and I’ll tell you whether it was worth it! 

 [UPDATE:] 

Helpful Husband has now been exposed to this blog post.  After laughing hysterically–a little too loud and long, I might add–he asks, “When did this happen?  Was it here?  Was I here?  Really?” 

“A couple weeks ago.  Yes.  Yes.  And yes.”  Hard stare at HH.

Long pause while HH ponders whether he would have been in more trouble if he’d been involved during the infamous photo shoot than he is for being so very unaware. 

Again, I say, it could have been worse!

Not that I encourage bad behavior, mind you.  I don’t.  But somehow, I always seem to find the good in people, the silver-lining if you will, and I figured that 1-900-RATIONALIZATION would be the way to get entrepreneurial with that endearing trait.

Years later, I grew up (a little) and determined that making a buck off of helping others shirk their responsibilities and behave like morons probably wasn’t the best way to earn a living.  (My apologies to my attorney friends who have no issue doing this on a regular basis.) 

But even though I’ve managed to squash the notion of making money off of helping others blame-shift, I still struggle with that part of me that (sadly) considers spinning an art form.  And I find myself practicing this by applying my rationalization prowess to my own foibles.  Responsible Shannon and Rationalizing Shannon are continually duking it out.

With that background in mind, I will now confess: 

I Did Not Run On Wednesday. 

*GASP*

 (Photo Credit)

And away we go:

Responsible Shannon (Our Hero):  You really should have run today.

Rationalizing Shannon (Our Rat):  How could I have run today?  I was really busy.

Hero:  You got up and even put on your running clothes before you went to that teacher meeting with Ninja’s teachers.

Rat:  Yeah, but I didnt’ have a clue what WordPress was going to be doing.

Hero:  You really need to stop adjusting your plan for the day based on the actions of others, even if they are really exciting and great.

Rat:  But they were really exciting and great.

Hero:  Are you even listening to me?

Rat:  But WordPress put this blog on its Freshly Pressed page.  There were, like, a bazillion visits.  It was like winning the freaking blogging lottery!  I was really, really busy!

Hero:  What exactly did you have to DO with those *ahem* bazillion hits?

Rat:  Well, I kinda watched those stats go stinking crazy practically all day.  *blush*

Hero:  What?!  You’ve got WAY too much on your plate to be sitting in front of a computer screen all day, stat-watching!  You might as well be watching paint dry.

Rat:  Hellooooo!  This is FRESHLY PRESSED, for heaven’s sake.  Clearly, Hero, you are clueless.

Hero:  Call names all you want, but that doesn’t change the fact that you missed your run in order to sit in front of the computer spellbound watching your blog go berserk. 

Rat:  And your point is? 

Hero:  What did you accomplish today?  What made this a day worth having?

Me:  Well, I remembered that I was a writer.  I posted something that made lots of people laugh and encouraged people in a bunch of ways.  I figure I just can’t ignore what happened on WordPress today.  It was a pretty big deal for Go Mommy!

Rat:  That’s what I was trying to say.

Hero:  Okay.  I’ll cut you a break this time.  Did you write thank you notes?

Me:  To the people who visited Go Mommy?

Hero:  Of course.

Me:  Are you kidding?  There were over 2400 visits to the blog today, alone! 

Hero:  Okay, perhaps a group thank you would do.

So here it is:

Thanks so much for visiting Go Mommy!  And thanks to WordPress for showcasing our blog.  And thanks for all the support from those who’ve known me well these past years.  What an amazing welcome–back to Blog Land–back home.

And as for the running, I’ll be hitting the road tomorrow.   At last.  Crazy, record-breaking stats and 900-number rationalizations not withstanding. 

I miss you.  Really.  I miss you a lot. 

So much so that today I started searching for a photo of you, just to remember you by.  To my joy, here is what I found: 

(Photo Credit) 

But upon closer inspection, I realized, this isn’t MY metabolism.  It’s just some dude.  Kind of like those pictures of other people that come in the frames at Target.  

So I kept looking.  Then I saw you: 

My Metabolism

(Photo Credit) 

Very nice, you slacker.  You’re totally off the job!  Seriously–what on earth has happened to you?  Surely you’re not going to try to give me that excuse that I’M to blame for your disrepair, are you?! 

Listen, I know that getting older makes everything a little more rusty, but this is ridiculous.  And what’s with the hiding out at the bottom of that stairwell like some kind of bum?  

Well, you’re right about one thing.  You definitely need help.  And if you want it, you’ve got it.  We’re going to work together to get you back in fine shape. 

But you’re going to have to cooperate with me. 

No more of this deal where I do all the work and you stay asleep or in a daze.  No more hiding out when there’s metabolizing to be done!  

We are getting ready to kick this health thing into higher gear, and I’ve gotta have your cooperation.   Understand? 

You’re getting ready to experience some jolts to your broken-down, sleepy lifestyle, Metabolism. 

I’m getting ready to experience even better health and maybe even the loss of 30, 40 or 50 pounds.  

And those people out there, the ones who are looking in at you through their computer screens, reading this?  Consider them like the wild fans at a hockey game or a wrestling match, cheering on the home team (that would be me) onto total victory.  

In short, YOU belong to ME.  Brace yourself.  And consider yourself warned. 

Oh, and feel better soon.  Looking forward to seeing more of you!  

Your friend, 

Shannon 

Photo Credit

The company is One More Mile Running and I get absolutely NOTHING if you buy something from them.  (Come to think of it, I should talk to those guys about some kind of finders’ fee–but I digress.)

I love the hilarious shirts this company makes.  Going to an expo for me is like going to Vegas is for some people.  I give myself a certain (small) amount of money that I know I will throw away on super-fun running gear on the (likely) chance that I will have a great time while wearing said gear in the future.  Actually, in this light, the odds are far better than Vegas, but again…I digress.

So I did NOT buy the shirt but I did INDEED have the experience the shirt indicates at a race this past Sunday at one of my local running club’s signature events. 

Explanation:

Each year our awesome local running club, the Kennekuk Road and Trail Runners, hosts an event called the Wild Wild Wilderness Run.  Runners from all over the midwest descend upon our lovely little hamlet to challenge themselves on the Wilderness Trail. 

See, the thing is, the Wild Wild Wilderness Trail Run includes at least one portion of trail that is not really a trail for human beings.  True, some deer and squirrel may have ventured up the side of that beast, but humans…not so much.

And the OTHER thing is, THIS year I knew that beast was coming.  I ran the stinking trail last year.  And I heard from my friend–let’s just call her Ami (because that’s her name)–that the run was SO much easier when you knew what to expect.  Just so you know: she totally lied.  (A different experience, but NOT easier!  Still love you though, Ami.)

So now in the interest of Truth, Justice and the American Trail-Running Way,  if you’re EVER considering the Wild Wild Wilderness Trail Run, you should know THIS is TRULY what to expect: 

7.55 miles (or 7.45 miles, depending on the race year) of some of the most beautiful trail in the region.  Including: 

3.5 initial miles of relatively bumpy, grassy trail, in and out of the woods.  Wear your deet during tick season.  Basically an enjoyable but moderately challenging run.  Followed by…

4 miles of hell on earth.  A mountain fit for certain animals, but definitely not people.  Creeks to leap over.  A slippery bridge to run across.  Hills, hills and more hills.  A “stairway” built into the side of a nearly-vertical hillside just before mile seven–that conveniently had its STEPS removed this year–where you are basically sliding up a rooted-mud-hill.

Essential Aside Advice:  Try to strategically select the people who are running in front of you and behind you as you face these natural obstacles.  Sliding down a mud-hill onto the head of the helpful, but completely unsuspecting, gentleman behind beneath you as you lose your footing on one of these obstacles is not the most polite way to make new friends.  Even if he does promise that he won’t let you fall down the hill.  As you are practically sitting on his head.  *sigh*  Well, after hitting solid ground, at least there’s plenty of motivation to pick up the pace and get outta there as fast as you can after that little getting-to-know-you adventure. 

And back to the shirt.  See, while the front-half of the shirt would have been me on Sunday, the back-half of the shirt would be me TODAY.  After my rugged adventure.  While trying to walk or move quickly.  Thank goodness for my friend, Ibuprofen. 

And regarding the WWW Run.  Would I do it again next year, even after all of the muddy drama?  OF COURSE!  Maybe even several times next year.  Because, come to think of it, it wasn’t really that tough after all.  Yeah, in fact, it was more like awesome.  Kinda like childbirth is awesome the farther you get away from it. 

I’ll be there.  Probably with a cool new shirt.  And definitely with a strategy that calls for me making new friends in more lady-like ways than sitting on some poor stranger’s head.

 P.S.  As proof that I should have known better and for the entertainment of the historians among you:  Here’s the post about a couple of last year’s trail runs:  Trail Runs Before I Knew Better 

I hate thinking about how long it’s been since I’ve sat down to write here.  Even now, I feel like I’m sitting down with a long, lost friend.  It’s great to be back.  Thanks for missing me.  I’ve missed you, too.

You know this.  Moms-Who-Run wear many hats.  You can wear lots of them at once.  But not all of them.  Still, it’s easy to forget that your head is only so big and only so many hats will fit up there.

Photo Credit

Then, when Life lifes you, as mine has this past year, you realize what’s most important.  And those are the hats you wear.  And those are the things you do. 

So it was that as a Mother-Runner-Daughter-Wife-Writer-Teacher-Reader-Student-Knitter-Saleswoman-Public Speaker-Trainer-Cheerleader-Chauffer-Cleaning Committee Member-Moving Crew Member-Chief Laundress-Referee-Wound Treater-Hug Giver-God Lover-and Glue that Holds It All Together for My Family, with the application of enough pressure, heartache and disaster, some of these hats had to be taken off and thrown onto the pile with the dirty laundry for awhile.   

If you asked my daughters, they’d tell you exactly what I need:  “You need to run.  And you need coffee.  After God and us, of course.  And your running is good for all of us, Mom.  Seriously.  Same with the coffee.”

So what does Mom-Who-Runs do?

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with financial disaster, she runs. 

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with heartbreak, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with the loss of a home, a friend, a dream, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs realizes she can no longer write, knit, dance, play, because there truly is no longer time for these luxuries, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is faced with ending her kids’ homeschool experience and putting her kids back in traditional school in order to get a job and help her family survive, she runs. 

When Mom-Who-Runs has a husband in intensive care, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs hears her own mother and number one support system has been diagnosed with stage three cancer, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs switches roles and cares for the mother who’s sacrificed so much caring for her all these years, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs gets to pack and move an entire household with her own hands and the help of her two cherubs and a few very loving friends who come through when it counts, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs gets to choke back her own sorrow while she wipes the tears from her daughters’ eyes as they say goodbye to the only home they’ve ever known, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs turns into a puddle (finally breaking down under the pressure) just because someone has been nice to her, she runs.

When Mom-Who-Runs is surprised by her own medical diagnosis, shares it with her boss, and is fired coincidentally the next day, she runs. 

And she runs.  And she runs.  And she runs.

And she loves her children and her God with a love that is fierce.

And she runs.

And if she doesn’t run, then you know that something is wrong.  And if you love her, you move heaven and earth to get her back on the road or the trail or the treadmill again.

Because the running will bring her back.

Photo Credit

During the time I’ve been away, I’ve run a full marathon, two half-marathons, an ultra and several 5Ks and trail races.  I’ve logged hundreds of miles.  I really haven’t gotten any faster or skinnier. 

But thanks to the running and my kids and the prayers of my family and friends, I am BACK.  Along with my Writer Hat.  And I think we might just stay awhile. 

Instead of writing an Official Blog Post on Sunday, another Rest Day [insert heavy SIGH], I did what every other warm-blooded American did tonight.  I watched the Survivor finale and reunion. 

Love it or hate it, this show is a microcosm of life.  It’s your life and mine, under pressure and under a microscope.  How many of us could survive 39 days with our every minute on camera?  (Give me a shot at a million dollars and I’d try it, mind you.)

Apply enough pressure and a microscope and a camera to any human being and it will get ugly.  This show is about the human condition.  And that fact is why I absolutely love watching it, week after week.

What does this have to do with running?  Or midlife?  Or any of the other stuff you’re accustomed to coming here and reading?  I’ll tell you.  This show is about strategy.  You may love or hate another person’s strategy.  The one thing that is certain is that no one is successful without a strategy. 

Priorities.  Values.  Morals.  Focus.  Passion.  All these go into making a person successful.  Or not successful.  These will determine our strategy.  And the biggest guarantee of failure is to avoid having a strategy. 

I’ve noticed that in races, my age group “Masters Female” (translate that: older broads in their 40′s) is usually larger than  the groups younger and older.  This surprised me at first.  Especially when I noticed that if I were two years older or three years younger, I’d have come away with an award, even with my Very Slow Pace.  What was going on here?!

Well, I think when you get to be about *ahem* 43(ISH), and you start to fight metabolism and hormones and failures and expectations, you start looking for something–no matter how emotionally or spiritually mature you are.   Many of us have buried a parent.  Some of us have buried friends and even children.  We view our lives WAY differently than we did when we were in our 20′s.

So a 40-ISH woman faces her world and thinks, “Sheesh, how did I get here, compared to where I figured I’d be (even if “here” is absolutely Wonderful!) and where on earth am I headed.”  And that 40-ish woman looks at her life and her wonderfully metabolism-challenged body and says, “Well, this is ONE area where I actually CAN make a difference, God willing.”  And then she begins to make some decisions. 

In short, she begins a Strategy for managing the Wake-Up Call that is Midlife.  For many, that involves taking up the sport of running.  And THAT, I believe, is why there are so many stinking competitors in the Old Lady Masters Female divisions of the races that I run. 

And Survivor?  What does this have to do with Survivor?  Especially because the cute little pixie who still has her metabolism intact won the big prize? 

It has everything to do with Survivor.  Because the game is about Strategy.  Strategy.  It’s about being On Purpose.  People with WAY different values and ethics and morals–VERY different strategies–have won this game in different seasons.  But nobody won on accident.  Everyone who won, won with a strategy.  Just. Like. Life.

If you want to “Outwit, Outlast, Outplay” whatever issue you’re facing in life, you’re going to need a strategy.   And everybody’s got some Issue that they’re facing.  Most people have lots of Issues working at the same time.

Your strategy won’t be the same as your neighbor’s.  And whether yours is noble and worthy and righteous is between you and God, quite frankly.  The thing I know for sure, is that without a strategy, you’re sure to drift into the stream of life, with no real purpose and leaving no real mark.  You’ll be voted off the island of your hopes and dreams.

Photo Credit

My strategy, when I looked into the mirror and barely recognized myself anymore, was multifaceted.  Part of that strategy involved a focus on my health.  Part of that focus involved exercise, specifically running.  Part of that involvement, included races and training.  And part of that training includes each and every run and rest day in my training schedule. 

I’ve picked a strategy for this part of this season of my life and I’m sticking with it.  Every stride and every mouthful is part of my strategy for navigating the “physical” part of this season of my life.  For me this involves Long Run Friday, trail runs, race numbers, and Body Glide.  It will probably be different for you.  But still I ask you and I challenge you: 

What’s your season?  Make a decision.  Make a plan.  Commit to a strategy.  If you’re a godly person, commit that strategy and plan to God and allow Him to change it if you discern your strategy is out-to-lunch.  And by all means, Get Busy. 

Plan.  Commit.  Act.  Learn.  Adjust.  Grow.  Encourage.  Enjoy Results.  Give Thanks.  (Repeat regularly as necessary, which will be often, and bathe each step in prayer if you’re so inclined). 

It won’t look the same for any two people.  It’s not a cookie-cutter approach to success.  Without it, the best of us are doomed to failure and with it, we each have a shot at our prize, whatever that means to us.

It’s the formula for effectiveness in running.  In business.  In raising a family.  In being a good friend.  In playing Survivor.  In life. 

Which is exactly why I Love The Game.