My Mid-life Crisis

One year from tomorrow I’ll turn 40, and I’m finding that fact somewhat difficult to accept. Call it a mid-life crisis. Time, I am realizing, may or may not be still on my side. I feel 39, and that’s not all good. I feel tired more often than years ago. I feel aches I never have before. I feel older.

More than anything, though, I feel a sense of urgency—urgency to make a difference in the lives of others; urgency to ensure others know how I feel about them; urgency to leave no goal unaccomplished.

My commitment for this year is to roll with this mid-life crisis. When I turn 40 one year from today, I hope that you won’t recognize me as a result of this mid-life crisis. I hope that I glorify Him with how I treat not only others but myself. I hope that those I love are increasingly blessed by His words and deeds through me. I hope that I am more focused and disciplined, and that I finish my dissertation. No, my mid-life crisis will not be defined by a sports car or a new adventurous hobby. My mid-life crisis will leave no doubt as to what I believe, whom I love and what is important to me.

The Clock Doesn't Lie

Today, I went for a run, 4 miles in 35:24, each mile more painful than the last. It was my third run of the week and my fourth workout, each one more painful than the last. The clock does not lie, I'm getting slower.

On days like today, I am reminded of the Simon and Garfunkel lyric from "The Boxer," that reads, "I am older than I once was, but younger than I'll be. That's not unusual. No it isn't strange after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same."

The reality is that my best days as an athlete are likely behind me--that isn't strange, life has changed, and I'm getting older. But what has remained the same is that I'm always hopeful. I'm hopeful that the next workout will be better, that maybe there is another good marathon left to be run, and that maybe the clock will tell a different story once again, one day.