Running in super short silky shorts.

I've always wanted to be a runner.

In High School I ran Cross Country, but I weighed 215 lbs. and looked more like a linebacker, a linebacker who happened to be in super short silky shorts and really tiny shoes.... it's just not a pretty mental picture.

But I loved it, short shorts and all.

After graduation I found the freshmen 15, and also it's buddies the sophomore 30 and junior 45, and now after 9 years of marriage and desk work I'm not exactly the ideal body shape for running.

But I've had a dream. A really stupid dream if I'm honest.

A dream of running a marathon.

Why? Mostly pride and vanity but let's be honest, those are by far not the worst sins in my life, so I'm not too worried right now. For some reason I've just always wanted to say I ran one, like some people have always wanted to say they went sky diving, or drove the Autobahn, or ate the 64oz stake, we've all got dreams!

I mentioned this a few months ago in a talk I giving to some high schoolers.

The next thing I knew one of those High schoolers, who just so happens to by a stick-thin-hyperactive-gazelle of a kid had me talked into doing a half marathon with him.

So now I'm training. Tonight was a longer run, in fact it tied for the longest run of my life!

Let's just say things bounced tonight that were not meant to bounce, my nipples feel like they lost a Cage fight to a cheese grater, my thighs at one point could have starts a small fire if I sat down and I'm not sure I can feel my toes yet. And it also didn't help that I flew like superman due to tripping on a bump on our sidewalk, a block from my house (Sorry neighbors for the blood stain in front of your house).

But all that to say the run wasn't fast, it wasn't pretty, it's not getting an award or being aired on a National TV show, but I started and I finished. And I'm proud of it dang it!

While running I talked to my dad, well listened mainly between gasp of air.

We caught up on life, how he's doing, how his elderly parents are doing, how he and his siblings are handling working with hospice and the fears and tensions that come from approaching the passing of a loved one.

We talked about my marriage and the new fears and tensions that come from managing life with a 2 year old and a 2 month old. The dumb words said out of exhaustion and the fears of having money to feed them, you know normal dad fears.

As well as the changing dynamics at play in loving your spouse as their world and the demands on their energy radically shifts with kids.

We talked about work and how some days you love everything about it and other days you... well simply don't love much about it.

We talked about his heath and new limitations from his double lung transplant and what life looks like with a chain attached called "medical restrictions."  And the acceptance of dreams lost and the frustration of finding new ones.

We talked for a long time.

He shared honestly, I shared honestly, I was reminded of what a good dad I have, a dad I'm really proud of and respect, a dad that I'm thankful to have in my life.

But as I listened and shared it dawn on me, Life's not pretty. Life's not fast and furious (that's just a movie and it's over in 90 minutes), life often does not give away awards and not many of us will have a national TV show telling our story.

Most of us will simply start.

And most of us will simply finish.

What matters is if we will say we were proud of it along the way.

So my run wasn't amazing, it was rather slow and unimpressive, but for me I was proud of it.

My life may be like that as well.

It may not be amazing by the standards of TIME Magazine or NBC, it may feel like some moments could not be any slower as babies cry and debts slowly go down.

My accomplishments may be considered unimpressive when viewed in light of the history of the world.

But for me, for my boys, for my wife, for my community, for my church, for my God I'm still putting one foot in front of the next, not stopping, not giving up, not wimping out and I'll when my messy, unamazing, slow, unimpressive life crosses the finish line of life I'll be delighted (and probably a little proud too) to hear "well done, good and faithful."

Happy Tuesday... keep running, it's worth it.