Our boys asked me this week if I ever ran track and field growing up.
I was an average athlete in junior high, slow on my feet, but tall for my age. Finding the “right event” proved difficult for me and for our coaching staff alike.
I told our kids about the time I lost the 4x400m relay for our entire school and about the time I fell on my face running 110 hurdles. My one shining moment came mid-season when I nearly cleared my height in the high jump, placing second. My name was announced over the intercom the following morning and I rode high on the waves of atta-boys from friends in my grade.
Then the back spams hit and my season was over.
Eventually, a wise PT realized my left leg was (and still is) a full inch shorter than my right. The misalignment of hip bones in my lower back, along with required compensation by surrounding muscles created a deadly combination. Overuse, fatigue, spasm, and now muscle failure became the result. My broken body had reached its limit.
The challenges didn’t stop there. My leg length “disorder” led to significant injuries in high school and college, and ultimately limited how long I could play sports at a competitive level. Most years I spent more time in training rooms or therapy sessions than the rest of my teammates combined. Playing sports in college was difficult and often painful. It was full of limit reaching moments, but it was worth it.
Looking back, I see the value of those years in so much more than points scored or minutes played. Ironically, the same limitation that ended my career in college also led me to marry the girl of my dreams and to a beautiful family we now share together.
Perhaps it is in the paradoxical and painful beauty of our limitations that we come to appreciate the complete journey is more valuable than the achievement alone. In the disappointments, we find redirection to a different reality far richer and sweeter than the one we initially imagined for ourselves. Maybe it is only in both finding and facing our limitations that we are forced to grow into a truer measure the people God intended us to be.
Here’s to moving forward,
DB
LIKING - Springtime in the hill country. This week our family took advantage of spring break and a 70-degree sunny day to hike through a nearby canyon. The amount of refreshment afforded by this short hike, a cold plunge, and the fifteen minute air dry on a rocky river bank took me by surprise. “Why have I not been doing this more?” I wondered.
The mood of our entire family was lifted that day and spending time in the company of good friends on trail made the afternoon better still. Before summer in Texas arrives, I hope to find another trail to travel, some cold water to jump in, and a friend to chat with along the way!
LEARNING - about “un-telling” time. Our first grader recently finished his TIME unit at school and I’m not sure how to feel about it. My emotions at present are equal parts celebrating this right of passage while simultaneously morning the “weight of the watch” that he will now carry with him for the rest of his days. To be totally honest my watch ran out of battery a week ago and I haven’t re-charged in since. I still carry my phone most places but I’ve checked the time less often. In untelling time I attempt the “just-one-more-thing-because-I-have-two-spare-minutes” far less often, and to be honest, it’s been really nice.
LOOKING FORWARD TO - reading Built to Move by Kelly Starrett and The Comfort Crisis by Michael Easter. The trajectory of our culture towards sedentary living and away from stressful situations is both fascinating and terrifying all at once.
While life for all of us is a mixed bag of comfort and chaos, our affinity for the former and fear of the later has all but crippled our emotional, psychological and physical resilience. Learning to exist in the extremes of both comfort and chaos, and to strike a balance amidst the tension of “the in between” is precisely what it means to grow and live as an adult.
In the month ahead I am looking forward to fearing my limits less and finding them more often.
It’s amazing how I forsake the skill of balancing so quickly. Our hearts, brains, and souls are in need of bulking. And like any other muscle in the body, growth and stamina come not by way of relaxing but through repeated stress, challenge, and limit-testing effort. So in the month ahead I am looking forward to fearing my limits less and finding them more often. In doing so I hope to grow my heart, soul, and body into a healthier version of who God has made me to be. One moment, one test, one limit-testing struggle at a time.