I couldn’t stop thinking about the commitment I made today. Up to this point, my commitment through Lent is to God and myself. I committed to make sacrifices and God gives me the strength to do all things as long as I invite Him along. I have to be very careful not to become prideful and think that this is about me.
Today, I received the notice for the annual Down Home Days Festivities which included the annual 5K run. Hey, I did that once, back in my younger college days. Can I still do that? I sent out an email to a few friends and asked for volunteers to do it with me. I included one guy who is a real outdoorsman and go getter. He said it sounds like fun. He’ll probably finish it in first place, and run it again just so he can break a sweat. To my surprise, Christy accepted the challenge and said she is going to do it with me. Then I really started razzing my best friends. Come on you guys, you know who you are. ;-)
All of a sudden it hit me that I am going to run in a 5K in less than 3 weeks. I grabbed Monte and said, “Let’s Go Boy.” Monte’s endurance level has really picked up and that is a good thing. We ran tonight. We made the first 2.04 miles in exactly 20 minutes. The last ¾ mile was not so good; it took 10 minutes. I was determined we were going to run 3 miles in 30 minutes, but we fell a quarter mile short. I suppose we could have gone on the extra quarter mile, but it was getting really dark. That typical southern fog was rolling in heavy like something out of that old Charlie Daniels Band song, The Legend of the Wooly Swamp. I do believe that song was written to describe this exact geographical area on a dark foggy night. I’m heading back to the house.
Great Danes!!! Three Great Danes!!! I should assume that one of these days while I am out jogging that some neighbor’s dog is going to come out to visit me, and I should be carrying a big stick. I don’t because I never get nervous about dogs. I am man! However, this is the first time we saw those three gigantic, huge, enormous, over-sized, extra large Great Danes. I mean, really, they were big. “God, are you there? I might need some help here.” Monte got excited and started pulling really hard to go toward them. He had a lot more confidence than brains. Neither of us ever said a word, but he must have felt like I was his big stick. Little did he know, he was a mere snack before they bite off one on my legs. As we continued our slightly hurried pace past their house, I reminded Monte not to stop and mark this territory. They ran back and forth occasionally biting each other for fun. Their bark was ferocious. They ran along a fence that was about 4 ½ feet tall with wooden sections at the corners and luckily for me, closed gates. When we got to the end of their fence line, I was certain that they were going to hop right over and eat us. There they stood up, propped their elbows on the top rung of the wooden section as if standing at a bar ordering another drink, and then . . . one of them woof whistled at me while licking his chops. Have you ever seen those pictures of dogs playing poker? Well, these are the goons that sat at the bar being the body guards.
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