I’m reading the book, Mile Markers: The 26.2 Most Important Reason Why Women Run by Kristin Armstrong, ex-wife of Lance Armstrong. I cringe writing that because this is not how she should be known. She’s an avid runner, talented writer, and a dedicated mother devoted to her faith. It’s not solely a book about running as it is about family, friends, fears, faith, goals, etc. and how running has helped her face them all. It’s filled with stories taken from her entries from her blog on Runner’s World http://milemarkers.runnersworld.com.

The whole book has been an inspiration but a couple of her insights have really challenged me and I want to share this with you in my next couple of blogs.

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A cool thing happened to me this morning. I went for an early morning run before work. It was still dawn (I was going to say “twilight” but I didn’t want to distract you and cause you to think the movie Twilight and then wonder if I believed in vampires - which I don’t, btw). The sun was beginning to rise over Boise’s foothills but not enough to give much light.

I like running in the dark. It keeps me from looking at how far I still have to go and instead forces me to focus the steps in front of me. I’m not distracted by the scenery around but look solely at the path in front of me.

It was peaceful and therapeutic.

Life’s been rough lately and the world’s craziness makes it even harder to find peace. God tells us in the Bible not to be anxious about anything but that is easier said than done.

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The day before our 70.3 mile triathlon in Boise,Idaho, my friends and I walked past the official finish line. A great white arch with a digital timer and spotlights was to be the ending point for 1200 athletes brave or insane enough to attempt the race. Glimpsing the official finish line sent chills up my spine and caused my stomach to rise immediately into my throat. The finish line symbolizes success. And before a race, no athlete really knows for sure if they'll cross it. No one knows if they, hands raised in victory, will get their photo op. No ones knows what will happen. There are simply no guarantees. Months of hopes and dreams could easily be destroyed. Any number of things can go wrong: cramps, dehydration, inadequate nutrition, a bike crash, hypothermia, random collapse....

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In order to be ready for this Half Iron Person triathlon in June, I need to fit in 9 workouts a week: three swims, three rides, and three runs. T minus 6 weeks until race day. My stomach, and my bowels, do a shaky little jig every time I think about race day. More on this exciting dance later.

This morning I hit the trails with Scout (my shelter-mutt), and just about every part of my body froze. It was oddly beautiful, however, this frosty winter morn, listening to inspiring songs of praise to our vast, creative God, and I forgot my discomfort almost entirely (or simply became numb, I couldn’t tell which).

As I crested a large hill, I ran beside some wide open horse meadows, and suddenly I could see the whole of Seattle in the distance. Downtown standing official and industrious, an emerald skyline, with the Space needle off by itself looking smallish, and rather left out of the party.

And the image that came to my mind was one used by my friend Judd to describe the city he lives in and loves, Las Vegas. Instead of Sin City, Judd refers to Vegas as Grace City. The biblical truth being thus: where sin abounds, grace abounds more. Since most of my body was experiencing some form of frostbite at this moment, this image of God’s grace was entirely unexpected.

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I am certifiably insane.

I have committed to participating in a triathlon race in June that covers 70.3 miles.