In mid-May, I injured my back. While stretching before a morning run I felt some pain and questioned whether running was a good idea, but I decided to give it a try and stop if the pain persisted. It turned out to be a great run with no pain at all, but as the day went on the pain returned and intensified. I have now struggled with back pain for over three months and have endured a frustrating cycle of feeling better, running again, feeling worse again, feeling better again, and so on.
Establishing a relationship with a new doctor in Nashville has not been easy, but I recently made it in to a fantastic physician who ordered x-rays on my back that confirmed that there is no acute injury. He then referred me to a spine center to determine the next steps, so help is finally on the way.
I would love it if that was the only challenge but aging doesn’t seem to mind multitasking.
I have had stomach issues for most of my adult life, but they came to a head (um, wrong metaphor) over a decade ago that led to a change in diet, exercise, and lifestyle that was life-changing in a good way. But there have been some ups and downs in the last few years, particularly in my willpower when it comes to diet, and about a month ago I may or may not have had a stomach virus—all I know is that it wasn’t pretty–and something clicked in my brain that reminded me that Southern comfort food is not very comfortable for me.
So the new doctor suggested I add a low-FODMAP diet to my GERD diet, which basically means that I can only eat cardboard as long as it is baked and without any extra flavoring. I am suddenly gluten-free, lactose-free, sugar-free, and all other kinds of free that ironically aren’t anywhere near free at the grocery store. All of this is a pain in the neck, but I am astounded that I am fully locked in mentally to this new way of life. And as long as it is a pain in the neck and not the stomach or back, I’ll take the trade.
As I walked to the office last Friday I met possibly the happiest human on the planet who proceeded to tell me about his happiness—and how happiness leads toward good health, too. He reminded me that we all get to choose our attitude and then said something profound that I intend to hold on to for the road ahead. He said that sunrises and sunsets are totally different but equally beautiful.
Here’s to looking for beauty regardless of, well, anything.
In December of 1993, over a quarter century ago now, I was a young high school basketball coach in Arkansas trying to come to terms with what it meant to truly follow Jesus. My struggle pointed toward the margins of society and the conclusion that I should go love people in places that others might not. Specifically, I decided to move to a major city and teach in an inner-city school, and although I had never been further west than Dallas, I chose Los Angeles.
In a sense, it all begins today. Clown cars with sentimental parents, excited new students, and implausible piles of possessions arrive on campus in parade this morning for “move-in” day, unleashing a week-long whirlwind of orientation activities that includes ten speaking opportunities for yours truly. There is no option but to jump in and hang on.
Starting to Look Up 