Wednesday, November 15, 2006
The Indy Mini Marathon
What have I gotten myself into?
Some of the staff at the church where I work have decided to do the Indy Mini-Marathon in May. (Isn’t “mini-marathon” an oxymoron?) Indianapolis in May is all about racing. So there’s also a full marathon, a mini-marathon, and a 5k and a boat load of other Hoosier Hoopla Happenings to celebrate the Indy 500. I have never cared about the race. One year I won two tickets and promptly gave them away. Anyway, back to my story: Some of us will walk; some of us will run. Some will be praying to finish, and some will be praying to finish without crying like a baby.
Why are we doing this?
Purpose 1: To build team unity. We are the Discipleship Team of Union Chapel [rah-rah-raaaaah], a conglomerate representing the departments of nursery, children, youth, and adult ministries. In order to have a good time and build cohesiveness, we’re in this “together,” which is an interesting thought, since some will be way ahead of others who will be “together” at the back.
Purpose 2: To raise money for two friends in our church who are struggling with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease.) This is a little more motivating than purpose 1, but honestly, I can’t imagine a lot of people pledging a ton of money to us for this endeavor. And that voice would be my glass-half-empty persona emerging with a big wet, woolen blanket tucked under her arm, ready to snap it at the backsides of such dreamers. But I’m working on that.
Last year, one of my youth ministry co-workers, whom I’ll call “Josh,” entered the mini with his family. Curiously, whoever registered Josh made a mistake and got him placed in the wheelchair division. Josh is the intelligent but quirky office creative total nut-cake, so it was not really a huge surprise to us that his race would have a twist to it. Anyway, there he was, much taller than all the people around him. We won’t discuss how long it took him to finish.
Every day someone asks about others’ training. You should see all the sheepish looks and defensive squirming. Right now, all I can do is get after my elliptical machine. Today I did 50 minutes. When I finished, my toes were numb, which reminded me of how nearly every single person I tell that I’m doing the mini says, “Your toenails are going to turn black and fall off.”
The world is full of wet blankets snappers.
"Yeah, I'm part of the Union Chapel Discipleship Team. I'm the Chief Blanket Transporter. Have a nice day."