XXXI: Chaos Theory


Humans are officially one of the biggest, hottest messes to exist this side of the galaxy. This is what I’ve come to believe over the past week; namely taking cue from my own social existence.

It amazes me how drawn we are to conflict and chaos. Life can be peachy, we could be in a ‘honeymoon’ phase of reality, yet we’re not satisfied until we find a problem that needs a solution. Does anyone else understand what I’m referring to? Continue reading

XXXI: Addict


Once upon a time, when I was much younger, naive, and frankly…dumb, I got involved in an event in high school that resulted in a threat of suspension. Another student had posted on their locker (this is circa 2004) a lengthy explanation of why they did not agree with our government being involved in Iraq. Continue reading

XXXI: Placed On IR


There is one part of my body that I can’t stand having ‘medical’ issues with, that’s my mouth. Dentist, orthodontist, etc…if it involves numbing shots, gas, and surgical saws I’m beyond not game for any of that adventure.

The second part of my body would be anything to derails me from being able to run. Dating back to April of this year I’ve been battling a longing, nasty, chronic Achilles injury. It’s annoying and it’s keeping me from being able to give it my all. I’ve iced it, I’ve taped it, and all sorts of other remedies, but sadly the pain isn’t getting any better (thankfully it isn’t getting any worse). Today I was able to visit with my orthopedic surgeon (the closest thing I’ve had to a family doctor in my lifetime), and he examined my Achilles.

Pretty straight forward, no rupture, but he did diagnose it as Achilles Tendonitis. It is one of the most common injuries in runners, especially in those pile up the mileage too quickly. This was the exact case in April when I busted out a 10K run way too early. So, now I’m paying the price…and it’s a rather nasty one at that.

No running.
No inclines.
No jogging.
No squats.
No calf raises.
No leg presses.
No Turkey Trot.

As Dr. Smith put it, “you are now on the IR list” for at least until Christmas. He wants me to back way off on the use of my left foot (he threatened with a boot), and give it time to fully recover. If I don’t I run a serious risk of a full rupture that results in surgery. So, for now I’m stuck in the gym for the next six weeks enjoying some core work, upper body, and plenty of elliptical time. It isn’t ideal by any means, but if there was a time during the year that I’d enjoy having this happen, it’d definitely be in the depths of a dead winter.

Here’s praying that some desired time off my feet will result in better results heading into 2015.

-D-

XXXI: Running Fuel


What gets you around the track? To lift the weights? The go the distance?

Fuel.

Not just the physical food context, but the mental drive to overcome the shortcomings that our mind places before us.

What is your fuel?

I try to envision the future, I try to dream of the impossible, and keep my feet moving one step at a time. However, eventually I grow tired and I begin to reach for hidden cheats, the known pieces of life that can drive anyone beyond the pain threshold.

Anger, bitterness, hate.

Using negativity to fuel the drive to overcome will merely place your name among those who have failed to ascend above God, Himself.

I still hate. I’ve covered it up, masked it the best I could, but it still sits there. Knowing that I’ll explore that dark world when the miles begin to add. Broken promises, bad relationships, failed marriages, and manipulated moments…I’m still a broken man that struggles with hatred. It’s not just the context of being frustrated, it’s the dark area of the soul where you swear by things unknown that you will rise over those who ridiculed, yelled, and walked away.

Only God could accept a man still struggling with hatred. Only God would allow a man to run, knowing each mile he’ll have the option of fuel.

Will destiny, faith, and humility ever guide my way? Am I too broken to get past what’s been destroyed? Will the hatred ever go away?

I don’t know, I really don’t. Darco knows my demons, and demonstrates patience each time they’re brought up. I can only pray that this is an assistant coach training an athlete to become self disciplined in the soul, as he is to be on the track.

-D-

XXXI: Pure Country


Wow…you really are short…

I warned her. I had warned Darco several times about my dad’s side of the family, the Daugherty Clan. This was always done in a fun, whimsical sense, but compared to her experience with MC’s family there is a stark, stark contrast between the two groups. MC’s side you go to brunch with…dad’s side…you get tattoos and talk about about trucks at the local honky-tonk.

I. Am. Not. Kidding. Continue reading

XXXI: Watching Space


You’re losing weight…you don’t stick out as much…

I love my wife, whether her comment above hurt or not, I still love her dearly. Perhaps it is because I’m a male that I have a fixation on the physical elements of life. Fitness, health, and the body. Nothing scientific, just the measuring point of where I stand in life. Honestly, I feel like my life has revolved around the physical glimpses of life as I’ve progressed through time. Continue reading