The change to daylight savings time has me thinking about sunrises and sunsets.
As someone who often runs and walks at dawn and dusk, I have been blessed to see a number of beautiful ones and it never gets old.
Through my work in recent years I have learned that the time right around sunrise and sunset is referred to by photographers, videographers, and cinematographers as the “golden hour.” It is a popular time to capture photos, video, and film because the sky and the landscape are especially beautiful then.
I don’t run with my phone and usually have my hands full when I’m walking Caleb, so I don’t have many sunrise and sunset photos from my daily run and walks. But I did manage to snap the one with this post on a recent winter evening.
With the arrival of daylight savings time I look forward to more spectacular sunrises and sunsets in the days ahead. They’re a big bonus of getting out for a daily run and walk and a nice reminder that the skies declare the work of God’s hands.
While winter is not my favorite time of the year there are some things that I enjoy about it.
A couple of those things are watching Caleb climb up snowbanks and tunnel in the snow.
We usually don’t have time for those things on our morning walk because I have to get to work. But on our evening walks I try to give Caleb time to play in the snow.
This past Friday evening I gave him an extra amount of time because it was the beginning of the weekend and the weather was nice and mild. Plus there were plenty of big snowbanks to play in thanks to the foot or so of snow we recently received.
Part of our daily walk takes us through the parking lot of a construction business. This is one big playground for Caleb as all of the snow in the parking lot gets plowed into one big snow bank.
After the recent snowfall this snowbank is as big as I’ve ever seen it. About six or seven feet tall is my guess. That’s pretty darn tall and irresistible for a corgi that likes to climb and dig in the snow.
I always keep Caleb on leash during our daily walks through the neighborhood so on this particular evening I followed along behind him as he headed up the steep snowbank. Everything was fine until we got to the top and I hit a soft spot. My right leg sunk down three or four feet in the snow, which had the consistency and holding power of wet cement.
Try as I might, I was unable to pull my right leg out of the snowbank. The main problem was that I was wearing big bulky snow boots that made it difficult to pull out cleanly.
After struggling for a minute or so, I decided that I’d have to dig my way out. With my gloved hands I started to scoop out the three or four feet of wet, heavy snow that was trapping my right boot beneath it.
While I dug I lost hold of the leash. Caleb was now free to roam around without me.
This didn’t concern me too much because we were in an empty parking lot a fair distance from the closet road. So I kept scooping away snow while Caleb headed for the next snowbank to play in.
After a few more minutes of this my right foot felt as stuck as ever while Caleb was wandering further and further off. That is when I decided that my best option to get out of my predicament before Caleb got too close to the road was to pull my foot out of my boot.
Fortunately my sock didn’t come off as it sometimes does when you take your foot out of a boot. But it definitely was a chilly walk home over the ice and snow with only a sock on my right foot.
Maybe that’s a good thing, because it helped to cool down some of the anger I felt for getting stuck in a snowbank while walking my dog.
Seeing and hearing birds is always a welcome part of my daily run and dog-walks, especially during the winter when signs of life are not as plentiful as they are during other times of the year.
A few mornings ago I got a special treat from a male cardinal high up in a tree. Its bright red color and bold song livened up my morning walk with Caleb.
It also got me thinking about a couple of other recent memorable bird sightings that that took place on my weekly Saturday morning run along the Chippewa River.
One bitterly cold morning in January—I believe the air temperature was about 10 below zero—my long-time running buddy Dave and I were treated to the sight of two bald eagles perched in trees along the river trail.
While it’s not all that unusual to see bald eagles along the trail that borders the Chippewa River, it was unusual in how close the big birds let us get to them—about 25 yards. It was by far the closet that I’ve ever been to a bald eagle in the wild, as normally they are very wary birds.
A few weeks later, Dave and I enjoyed another memorable bird sighting while running along the Chippewa River Trail. This time we saw a huge flock of robins, some perched in a tree and others on the river ice below.
What so many robins were doing around these parts in January was a bit of a mystery to Dave and me, as we’ve always understood them to be migratory birds that head south for the winter. Seeing them helped to warm us up by giving us something interesting to talk about on such a chilly morning.
The older I get the more I appreciate why human and feathered “snow birds” head south for the winter. The ice, snow, and cold definitely add a difficulty factor to everyday life that make a seasonal migration south more and more attractive.
At the same time, the older I get the more I appreciate the snow birds that stick around the northland during the winter. They help to brighten our day during a time of year when we can use it.
I never knew that I could get so excited about slush. But one morning several weeks ago I found myself doing just that.
A wet snow had fallen overnight, softening the thick sheet of ice that had been covering many of the roads, sidewalks, and parking lots here in western Wisconsin for the previous month or so.
While the resulting slush was a bit sloppy, it also was a welcome relief to those of us who like to run and walk outdoors during the winter. Slush is sloppy but it offers much better traction than ice.
I’m used to running on icy patches. I’ve been doing it for more than three decades now.
But the slipperiness of the roads and sidewalks for a two- or three-week period earlier this winter was about as bad as I’ve ever seen it.
It was bad enough that my morning and evening dog walks had to be reduced to a shuffle and my morning runs had to be replaced by riding a spin bike indoors.
While there are a number of things that I enjoy about spinning—mainly that I can read or watch TV while doing so—I prefer getting my aerobic exercise outdoors. I enjoy the fresh air and the sights and sounds of nature that exercising outdoors provides.
One thing I don’t enjoy, however, is slipping and falling on my butt. Especially not at my age when one can easily break a hip.
All of which is why I was happy to see the roads and sidewalks in my neck of the woods turn to slush several weeks ago.
It was a little sloppy, to be sure, but it made for much better footing than a sheet of ice.
Just as I’ve found that slush makes for better traction than ice in my running and walking, so too have I found that following God’s will rather than my will makes for better traction in my life.
As it says in Psalm 40:2 and Psalm 119:105, I have found that the Lord “sets my feet on a rock and gives me a firm place to stand” and that God’s word is a “lamp to my feet and a light to my path.”
Just like slush, life can get messy. But running and walking on slush sure beats running and walking on ice, just as running and walking with God sure beats running and walking without him.
As we head into a new year I give thanks for the fun times running and walking in 2022 and look forward to more of them in 2023.
One of those times last year came a few Saturdays ago.
My buddy Dave and I were about halfway into our weekly long run when he noticed something about my wardrobe.
“You have your jacket on backwards,” he pointed out to me with a laugh.
I glanced down and saw that Dave was right. I was looking at the back of my winter running jacket.
Before you go thinking that I am a total airhead—which I oftentimes am—let me explain a little.
For a number of years now I have always kept my running jackets at least partially zipped up. I do this reduce wear and tear on the zipper, which I have found is often the first thing to wear out.
This requires that I put on my running jackets by slipping them over my head like a sweatshirt. To the best of my knowledge this was the first time that I slipped one on backwards, and I have an explanation for how that happened as well.
This was an especially cold morning—about 10 below zero– so I had a number of other articles of clothing to put on. Fourteen of them, to be exact. Before heading out the door for my run on this particular morning, I put on two pairs of socks, two pairs of pants, two briefs, three shirts, two pairs of gloves, a hat, a mask, and a neck-warmer.
As far as I know, the jacket was the only thing that I put on backwards. So all in all, I’d say I did pretty darn well in suiting up for the cold. I was 14 for 15 in putting things on the right way.
I probably would have been a perfect 15 for 15 if it hadn’t been for what has long been one of my biggest nemeses—running late. I threw on my jacket as I was running out the door and in my haste didn’t notice that I put it on backwards.
The incident was a bit embarrassing and yet another reminder that I would be well-served to get better at being on time. But we did see a couple of good things about my putting my jacket on backwards.
Not only did it help warm us up by giving us a good laugh, it may have given me an extra advantage against the cold. With my jacket on backwards, there was less chance for the wind to chill me by sneaking through the zipper seam.
I don’t think I’ll ever wear my running jacket backwards again on purpose. But given my track record for often running a few minutes late, I can’t guarantee that I’ll never wear it that way by accident again.
For the first time in my life my family is not exchanging gifts this Christmas.
It is still a day before our traditional gift-giving time as I write this—we’ve exchanged them on both Christmas eve and Christmas morning over the years—so I can’t say for sure how it feels to not have any presents to open.
But I can say that so far the decision to not exchange presents has turned out to be a pretty nice gift.
Not only has it eliminated the shopping and wrapping that often turn out to be overly stressful—at least for a wrapping-challenged person like me–it has helped to keep the focus on more important things.
A couple of these things for me are faith and family.
This Christmas I am especially grateful for the gift of my parents.
They’ve been through some pretty big challenges in recent months so it’s a huge blessing that we are able to celebrate with them.
Back in August my Father fell and broke two vertebrae in his neck and his road to recovery has been a challenging one. But he and my Mother have persevered, which makes being able to celebrate with them such a great gift this Christmas.
Another gift that I am especially grateful for this Christmas—and every day of the year—is the gift of Jesus.
He’s always been a part of my life, thanks to my parents bringing me to Sunday School when I was a kid.
But 15 years ago I hit a bad patch in my life, the worst of which came over the Christmas holiday.
There are many things that got me back on my feet–friends, family, health care –but the biggest help has come through taking up a daily Christian faith practice.
For me, turning my life over to the guidance of the savior who we celebrate at Christmas is a gift that keeps on giving.
All of this is not to say that I don’t appreciate gifts that come in wrappers.
Maybe next year we’ll go back to exchanging gifts. In the meantime, I am perfectly happy with all of the other gifts in my life.
Chief among them is my buddy Caleb. All of these years and I never tried until now to put a Santa hat on him. Being the laid-back guy that he is, I’m not surprised that he doesn’t mind it.
Several years ago I was discussing wellness practices with a friend.
I shared how running has long been my go-to wellness practice but that I was beginning to lean more on my faith and other practices as well.
“Sounds like you’re putting a few more legs under your stool,” she said.
I’d never heard it put that way before and it made me smile. It’s a great way to look at our overall wellness, I believe, especially for someone such as myself who is getting older. As my “stool” has gotten a little bigger and more wobbly with age, I definitely can use a few more legs under it.
These additional legs came in especially handy a few weeks ago when I decided to give one of them a rest. I had a bad cold and decided to take a week off of running.
This was a pretty big deal for me because it had been about 15 years since I had taken more than a few days off in a row. I have to admit that I was a bit concerned that my mood level might plummet.
I am happy to report, however, that it did not.
Part of what helped to keep my spirits up during this one-week layoff, I am sure, were my twice-daily walks with my four-legged friend Caleb.
Another big part of it, I am sure, is that I have learned much over the past decade and a half about keeping my spirits up. One of the most important of which is that there are many things that can help us to do so.
Some of the mood-boosters that I have found to be helpful—in addition to aerobic exercise such as running—are sleep, diet, gratitude, and relationships. The most important relationship being one with a Higher Power, who in my case is Jesus Christ.
The great thing about these mood-boosters—especially having a relationship with a Higher Power—is that they are more readily accessible than running. When I am feeling stressed out or down in the dumps, for example, I can’t always go for a run. But I can always pray to my Higher Power. That is far and away the leg under my stool that I am most grateful for.
One of the many reasons that I am so grateful for it is that it is much more than a leg. It is the foundation that supports all of the legs under my stool.
Not too long ago one of the trends in fitness events was color runs.
They were 5K run/walks in which participants had colored powder thrown onto them at various points along the course, so that by the end of the event they looked like a human rainbow.
These color runs drew big crowds but I never felt the urge to participate in one. Getting covered with colored powder has never appealed to me. Neither has—as a like-minded running friend of mine once said as the reason she never did a color run—having to spend the rest of the day blowing red, green, and blue snot out of my nose.
But perhaps the main reason that I never had the urge to do a color run is that I have been doing them on a near-daily basis for more than 25 years now. In one way or another, just about run or dog-walk that I go on is a color run.
There is the beautiful sky during the daytime and the stars at night. The bright leaves during autumn and bright flowers during spring and summer. The red cardinals, brown deer, green turtles, and countless other critters seen year-round while I am out getting some fresh air and exercise.
I recently read a post in which the author said that going for a run or walk outdoors is to be witness to a thousand miracles. Miracles that, I might add, come in all kinds of colors.
For a decade or so during the late 1990s/early 2000s, the first Saturday in May meant a couple of running-related things to me—the Run for the Roses and the Run for the Pie.
Run for the Roses as in the Kentucky Derby. Run for the Pie as in the Norske Nook 2 mile/15K .
Norske Nook was a small run in the small town of Osseo, Wisconsin, which was a big part of its charm.
Registration and packet pickup was at the local high school. The course went out onto the rural roads that wound and rolled their way through the green, hilly countryside.
One year a group of runners had to stop to let a hay wagon pass in front of them.
Another year there was a bit of a detour caused by a big road-kill raccoon.
All finishers received a piece of pie courtesy of the local Norske Nook Bakery and Restaurant.
Proceeds benefitted the local library.
The race was organized by the late Don Gilbertson, a retired University of Minnesota professor who lived on a nearby farm in Osseo. Not only was Don an excellent runner himself—having run a number of sub 3-hour marathons well into his 50s—he did much to support local running as well.
Prior to starting the Norske Nook Run, Don provided many years of volunteer service to the Indianhead Track Club both as an officer and event coordinator. For a number of years, he and his wife Nancy put on a New Year’s Day fun run that was always a great way to kick off the new year.
As we finally come out of the pandemic, here’s hoping that community-minded volunteers such as the Gilbertsons continue to come forward to help keep fun community events such as the Norske Nook Run going.
Seeing as it was just Easter time and Boston Marathon time, it makes sense that I have been thinking a little more than usual lately about walls and crosses.
Not so much about the proverbial wall that a runner is said to hit at mile 20 or so of a marathon or the cross that Jesus was crucified on, but the gift of each. Specifically, the gift of perseverance that comes through building our faith and fitness.
The subject came up the other Saturday when I was doing my weekly long run with my long-time running buddy Dave, who was training for the Boston Marathon that was held this past Monday, April 18th. Dave was doing his second of three 20-mile training runs to get ready for Boston, which prompted me to get up on my soapbox and sing the praises of long runs.
I don’t remember my exact words but they were something like this: Pushing ourselves through discomfort by running on a regular basis builds an endurance that helps us to push through discomfort in our lives.
A few days later, the subject came up again when I was having lunch with a friend who also is a runner. He asked me how things were going at work and I told him that our department was going through some challenges.
“Nothing like going through mile 18 of a marathon though right,” he laughed.
I have to say that I agree with him. Having run on a near-daily basis for over 30 years now, I am 100 percent convinced that the endurance built up through running makes one better able to face life’s challenges.
Just as I believe that exercising our faith on a regular basis builds an endurance that makes one better able to face life’s challenges as well.
Mid-Sole 