This is the joy of being a Father...

 

Your little one has no idea that you're about to walk through that door.  As you enter, you see him before he sees you.  To your pleasure, he's working quietly as he should be.  It makes you proud.  Few things are worse than launching a surprise visit only to find your offspring in the midst of mischief.  But, as usual, this is not the case.  You raised him well and even when he has no idea you're there, he's doing the right thing.  You raise a single finger to your lips, to signify to the teacher not to spoil the surprise.  She grins back at you with a wink.  It's a joy to see the facial recognition of the other children as the see you, smile, then look to your beloved child.  For a time, he seems to be the only one not in the know.  Giggles begin as whispers then slowly grow louder.  You see your child start to become aware that something is amiss.  You watch as he carefully looks up, still unaware of your presence.  He looks to his friends as they, in turn, betray the ruse through the direction of their sight.  Finally, your child's young eyes turn to locate the source of commotion. 

 

It is in the this moment, as his precious eyes lock on you and his young, beautiful mind registers "Daddy is here", that the most beautiful smile on the planet blossoms on his face.  He springs from his chair with the agility and quickness of a cat and dashes across the room into your arms.  The word "Daddy!" is music to your ears, as you embrace the greatest gift God has ever placed in your life.  You lose yourself in the moment of true love.  For this little guy loves you unconditionally.  He cares little about the cost of your trip.  He has no interest in the drudgery of your work week.  And no concern about the personal affairs that trouble your life.  He only interest...his only focus...is that his Daddy is here with him now. 

 

And you gaze into his eyes, seeing the hope of the world.  You feel love in it's purest form because you know deep down in the bowels of your soul that he is the best thing that has ever happened to you and you would give your life to save his without a fraction of thought.

 

He is the apple of your eye.

 

This is the joy of being a Father.

What to read about a bad day?  Well this story may just take the cake!  I mean I've had some horrible experiences in my day but this one may be the grand daddy of them all!

 

So I decide to visit the local Hooters in my area to get a little food in and work on the finishing touches to my book.  Arriving, I decide to go with the crabs legs.  If you've had crab legs before, you know full well that they can be a chore to eat and, moreover, be especially messy.  Nevertheless, I decide to go ahead and order them as I just had a taste for legs...  :)

 

Often, when I dine alone, I make some type of game out whatever I'm doing.  On this day, my task would be to extract a perfect piece of crab meat.  Unbroken, undamaged, unscathed.  Again, if you've eaten crabs legs, you know this can be no small task!  Between breaking the shell, digging for the meat, and avoiding snags and snares within the shell, you often end up with pieces of crab meat that are broken, torn and never quite fully whole.

 

As my platter arrived, the contest began.  I tore into the unassuming legs one by one; desperately in search of removing an undamaged piece.  With each try, I came closer and closer but continued to be met with failure.  I tried several techniques, but with each I was bested by the difficulty of the task.  While the meal was delicious as I toiled along, frustration began to settle in as I neared the last remaining legs. 

 

Just three remained and I was determined to find success.  One the first of the remaining three, I went in slow and focused but the shell was determined to deny me.  Angered, I erred in giving a little too much pressure and damaged the meat as I finally broke through the shell.  Annoyingly devouring the meat, I moved on to the second.   This time the shell split very nicely and I was certain that I had finally found my elusive victory.  But it was not so.  As I eagerly moved to extract the meat, the scrumptious white meat broke apart before I was able to fully remove its from its home.  Falling back into my seat, I let a exasperated sigh escape from my body. 

 

One leg remained. 

 

It would all come down to this. 

 

Taking a sip from my beer, I focused.  Patience was the key to victory.  And if it took me the rest of the night, I would liberate this final morsel of meat from its shell untarnished! 

 

Methodically, I went to work.  Little by little, I dissected the shell.  It was slow and meticulous but with each crack, the hope of victory became more and more real.  With one final crack, I had overcome the casing and now gazed upon the beautiful white meat that waited quietly for its fate.  I paused for a few moments to gather my composure.   The only task remaining was to remove it cleanly and unblemished. 

 

Wiping my hands clean, I went in for the coup to grace!  With a pull, a tug, and two short wiggles, it was over!  The 3 1/2 inch succulent white meat was in my grasp!  Unharmed and unscathed!  Admiring it for a moment and revelling in my victory, I readied myself to submerge it into the hot, melted butter that would mark it's final demise.

 

"Good bye my friend," I said as I held it suspended in the air before my eyes.

 

Then... as if a bitter, diabolical wind rushed through the air... I accidentally dropped it.

 

My perfect piece of crab meat effortlessly rode gravity all the way down to the soiled floor beneath my feet.

 

I wanted to flip over the table and hurl my chair right threw the window!  I wanted to scream as rage filled my loins!  But the end, I accepted my defeat graciously. 

 

Taking one last look at the fugitive crab, I paid my bill, and walked off quietly into the cold dark night that awaited me. 

4 days remain. 

 

This week has been the toughest for my training.  My job has demanded much of my time and sleep has not been plentiful.  My run days have been random and I skipped a scheduled run due to my mission.  I can’t say that my diet has been where it needs to be although I have dropped about 5 lbs.  Though these challenges have not robbed me of my motivation (completely), I would feel better if my schedule, these past few days, had been a little more predictable.  Not to mention my training.

 

Such is the challenge of life, I suppose.  How does the saying go?  The best laid plans...

 

So with 4 days remaining, I must trust in the training and commitment that I’ve invested over the past 15 weeks.  I must trust it will be enough.  It has to be.  Because my body feels tired though I had hoped to feel rested.  I feel worn down.  I had hoped to feel energetic.  I feel distracted and annoyed.  I had hoped to feel focused and determined.  I sense doubt and failure lurking in the shadows.  I had hoped to sense confidence and victory. 

 

4 days.  Am I ready?  I want to believe I am.  Do I wish I felt better with just 96 hours remaining?  Certainly.  

 

So come Sunday morning, I just have to dig a bit deeper than I already expected.  Tap those reserves that you never quite knew you had.  I’ll simply need to "find it". 

 

Another Jordan, ironically, had a similar situation.  I’ve resolved to use that amazing night as some additional motivation as I count down the final hours. 

 

His name was Michael.  The year...1997.

 

Riddled with stomach flu, clearly exhausted, weary and depleted; Michael Jordan overcame is own sickly limitations to score 38 points, grab 7 rebs, and dish out 5 assists to lead the Chicago Bulls to NBA Title. 

 

One reporter wrote following Jordan’s heroic performance as he battled through crippling sickness,

 

"But after 38 points and a game-winning 3-pointer, Superman proved he could still fly ... even with Kryptonite in his back."

 

Fortunately, come Sunday, I don’t need to fly... I just need to run.

 

4 days remain.