Training Session #51- August 7: Be careful, the children are watching An unexpected lesson from choosing a health lifestyle

Training Session #51- August 7: Be careful, the children are watching An unexpected lesson from choosing a health lifestyle

In 2013 I was diagnosed with sarcoidosis, an autoimmune disorder that chewed a hole in my cerebellum, atrophied various muscles, impaired my vision, balance, coordination and consequently stole my confidence and my ability to run. I have dedicated the summer of 2018 to regaining my strength, coordination, balance, and relearning how to run. I am participating in a 5k run on September 23rd in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This is my training journal.

This is my attempt to grow physically and mentally strong again.

Write on. Fight on.  


*Today I trained in Madison, Alabama.

Time:

7:10 am – 8:00 am

Conditions:

Outdoor-78 degrees

Training Maxim:

No hurry. No pause.

Training Performed:

Jogging/walking intervals- 50 minutes including 2 straight jogs of .25 mile each. 

Quote I’m Thinking About Today:

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” ~Frederick Douglas

Reflection:

The ancient Greek word for responsibility is kleos, which also means “glory”. 

The Greeks believed that kleos transferred from parent to child, especially father to son. So if the father was a strong soldier it was believed that his son would be an equally strong soldier.

When I returned from training today my two sons were in my bedroom.

My oldest son asked, “Dad, did you run today?”

“Yes.”

“Your shirt is soaked.”

“Yes it is.”

“Is that sweat?”

“Yes.”

“Cool… Hey dad, one day can I run with you?”

For better or worse children imitate their parents. Children are always listening, watching, and digesting the actions of their parents. And by doing so they’re weaving their own code.

Many people say my sons look like me (lucky boys!). But what concerns me is how they’ll act when things get hard.

I wipe the sweat from my eyes and smile, “Sure. One day you can run with me.”

I am no saint. I don’t have all the answers. I am a flawed father.

But my sons regularly see me return from training and know I’ve committed myself to improving my health.

They don’t know about my brain damage or the autoimmune disease. They don’t know about the steroids and painkillers.

They don’t how powerless and disabled and hopeless I once felt.

Right now, because they’re still so young, my sons only know what they see. And I hope my model of consistent training is my kleos to them. So that, in the future, they not only adopt a healthy lifestyle, but they know that in the throes of hopelessness they possess an intrinsic power to find hope again.

In time, our children will learn that, just like them, we are flawed. But by modeling the healthy behaviors that we want our children to adopt, we are helping them discover their full potential.