Missionary/Doctor/Clown
From my private journal:
December 26, 1992
My five year-old son (Timothy) told me that he wants to be a missionary/doctor/clown.
A missionary because they tell people about Jesus.
A doctor because they help to make sick people better.
A clown because they make people happy.
Strolling
I am training for a 50K trail race which takes place 46 days from now. Today my training consisted of walking a baby in a stroller. Some days that’s all my busy schedule will allow.
I find myself falling into this rut of not doing any exercise on the days in between my running days. I know I should do a sit up once in a while or lift a weight or two. When feeling harried, as I often do, working out for 15 minutes, or doing a set of push ups a few times a day, seems insufficient. But then I do nothing at all to improve my fitness on those days. Talk about insufficient!
Today I thought, Why not go over to the park and walk for 30 minutes? So I threw the baby in the trunk and the stroller in his seat. Er… I went over to the park and walked around the lake three times for a little over three miles. That was way better than not doing anything just because I felt so taxed by the day.
I have a lot of work to do to get ready for the 50K. That’s 31 miles. Three miles of pushing a stroller might not be sufficient preparation for such a long race. But an hour of walking is more helpful than an hour of sitting on the couch fretting.