Drop off was between 07:10 and 07:20. The car needed gas, and the destination was close to our old house on the other side of town. We were both excited for today, orientation for the Sea Cadet program. We arrived at 07:00 and the CO showed us to his office while the other kids gathered at the picnic bench in the big room outside his office. My son was ON. He wants this, and as a result I want it for him. The Sea Cadet program gives him an outlet and framework to move toward what he wants in a way that fulfills his direction and purpose.

"Why do you want to do this?" he was asked.

"I want to be a Navy SEAL," he responded.

"Well, we have two graduates from this year with contracts into SEAL training. And if you're smart and have the grades, we have one kid accepted to the Naval Academy. There's a lot of work, but being in Sea Cadets will open doors, son." Then he turned to address both of us. "We teach honor. Courage. Commitment. We focus on God, Family and Country."

Sold.

I was told Jacob was his until 16:00. As I walked out, I heard someone ask firmly, "What's your name son?"

"Jacob, sir."

"What's your last name?"

"Mason, sir."

"Mason's your name today!"

While he matured about five years in Alaska, I walked outside realizing again my boy is turning into a young man. Honor, Courage and Commitment. Who can argue with that?

I drove in a psychological fog for a while, realizing I now needed to put in fifty minutes on the road. I ran a route through a neighborhood where my son and I ran a 5K in 2008. He was just a pup, and we walked more than we ran. The homes are elegant over slight hills. Those small rises and drops were enough to make me sweat a bit more than normal. And that means I was sweating a WHOLE LOT.

I've been focusing on cadence, and the hills took me just enough off my routine to annoy me. About halfway out I tweaked my left calf on uneven payment. Not enough to stop me, but similar to jamming a finger when playing football. It hurts a bit, prevents normal movement and gets in the way of performing best. Annoying. After the run was a trip to the gym for an upper body circuit and a shower. Then brunch. The rest of the day finds me camped in Winter Park, waiting on 16:00. And continuing to ponder purpose.

My running career started in the late 70s and early 80s in Amherst, NH while I was in middle school. Up to that point, I played some football and baseball, and I started playing tennis in the summer. The draw in New Hampshire for middle school boys at that time was ANYTHING having to do with Boston. The Celtics and Larry Bird. The Boston Red Sox. The Bruins. To a lesser extent, the Patriots. And the Boston Marathon.

My first pair of running shoes was yellow waffle-soled with a blue stripe. I remember they were SO LIGHT. After that first pair, my dad would take me to the New Balance factory outlet in Boston where we'd get good deals on shoes I'd read about in Runner's World - my source for everything about running.

The loop around our neighborhood was exactly one mile, which my dad measured in our van. I ran it regularly. I don't remember what "regularly" was, but it was more than every once in awhile and less than every day. I ran a 5K and struggled through a 10K, and had dreams of one day running Boston. One fateful day, I decided to jump from running five miles to running ten. I made it to nine and stopped. Next day I experienced shin splints, with pain punctuated by super heavy steel-toed hiking boots in fashion at the time. Ideally, this would be the first lesson in "too much too soon." But that lesson didn't come until much later when age played a different role.

Following the shin splints, running-for-the-sake-of-running stopped. For the next several years, running was for another purpose - to get become the best football player I could become. While my frame was probably better suited for track or cross country (5'7" and 135lbs. as a senior), my mind was built for football. During that time, I ran a 5:20 mile and 3 miles in under 19 minutes. I also played for two football teams that played in the state championship game, one that lost (West Valley High School, Spokane, WA) and one that won (Daniel Hand High School, Madison, CT). My senior year I was named honorable mention on the All State football team in Connecticut, proving anything is possible with the right mix of grit and determination.

I went on to play rugby in college, but missed the structure and discipline of football. The new found freedom of college life strained my relationship with running as time with friends and alcohol competed with the discipline and consistency required to maintain any level of fitness. And that's when I started noticing something. Other people who I considered far less fit than I were completing marathons. And I was jealous. That was MY idea way back in fifth grade.

Fitness and running did not become a serious part of my life again until my third year of law school. The thought of a marathon didn't reappear until I moved to Chicago, which replaced Boston and New York as my favorite city on earth.  Magazines and books said the Chicago marathon was good for rookies because it was flat. I watched friends run Chicago. So I picked Chicago. Four times I started the Hal Higdon marathon training program. Four times I injured myself. Juggling a family, an unhealthy marriage, a job with demanding travel and a struggle defining myself, I didn't have much room to fit the requirements of a marathon training program. I'd commit. I'd miss a few workouts, convincing myself I could recover. I'd compete with my 19 year old self. And I'd get injured.

Then 2011-2012 happened with a trifecta of change. First, I married a girl I knew in high school and dated briefly in college (a/k/a my inspiration because of her toughness, grace, beauty and sweetness). She reintroduced myself to me and since then has been the foundation for great things with our family. Second, my younger brother (who picked up endurance sports - triathlons and marathons) asked if I'd be interested in running Chicago with him. Third, I completed the Corporate Athlete Program hosted by The Human Performance Institute (more on that in another post).

My name didn't get selected to run Chicago, so I signed up with Susan G. Komen and raised $1,500 to fight breast cancer and run in honor of my wife, a breast cancer survivor. There were stretches where I missed runs, sometimes because of laziness (other priorities) and many times because of injury. What I've learned since (a DUH moment) is if you miss runs without first having a good base established and then pick up where you left off, you'll get injured. Especially if you're over 40. And especially if you're over 40 trying to compete with your 19-year old self. The result was an injured right calf and Achilles (I didn't realize until AFTER Chicago that poor form - heel striking - was the real culprit). With $1,500 raised by family and friends, NOT running wasn't an option. So I went to Chicago.

On October 13, 2013, I lined up with my brother having missed a month of critical road work due to that pesky Achilles. The weather was beautiful, and after my taper I actually felt pretty good. The first 13 miles were amazing. I was told we were keeping a 4-hour pace for the first 13 miles. Perfect. Until mile 14. The wheels fell off. The rest of the trek through Chicago was painful at best. I finished at 5:31:00 and I was proud. Kind of.

Then I gained weight, and woke up (see previous posts here). Yes, I ran a marathon. A big accomplishment. But it wasn't how I wanted to run it. Also, the dream in middle school was to run Boston.

But that's not WHY I run. I am NOT a runner, but today I run because I'm a better person if I'm healthy and fit. Today I run because I want to be here on earth with energy for a long time. Today I run because I want my kids to see my example and know they can take control of their fitness. Today I run to get stronger so I can carry my lovely wife wherever she wants to go. Today I run because I want my kids to (1) set goals; (2) make plans to achieve those goals; and (3) execute those plans, and know that's all it takes to achieve great things. Today I run to show I can keep promises I make to myself. Today I run because running engages me in life, allows me to see more and differently, and allows me to maintain a level of enthusiasm and energy I want to spread to others around me.

And that's why I run. But I'm not a runner.

Hank loves to walk. Almost as much as he loves the thought that there MAY BE a walk in the near future. If he sees me grab my running shoes and my socks, or if he hears me ask, "Do you want to go OUTSIDE?" or "Do you want to go for a WALK?" he responds by barking and twirling in circles faster than the Tasmanian Devil. Going for a walk is the best part of Hank's day.

Many of us are guilty of focusing on the goal and not the journey - in running, and in life. Many of us are also guilty of making promises to ourselves and not following through with them. It happened when I was training for Chicago. In the spring, I had plenty of time to train. I convinced myself I could miss one workout and it wouldn't matter. If I enjoyed the process like Hank, I would've probably done a better job following through with those commitments.

My program over the past couple weeks involves a run on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday. Walks happen on Monday, Friday and Saturday. The past two Saturdays Hank and I walked the bike trail that splits downtown Winter Garden, heading 17 miles northeast and 5 miles west to the county line where it continues for several more miles. Today we covered about five miles over seventy minutes starting around 10:30am. It was a good base building day.

The beauty of the past two weeks has been re-establishing consistency. Since speaking to my coach nearly two weeks ago, I missed the first walking day but have been on the road every day since. Striva shows since June 29th I've run 8 times covering 29 miles and logging 5 hours, 35 minutes. On the 29th I ran 2.7 miles (34:28) at a 12:37/mi. pace, and Thursday I ran 3.7 miles (34:56) at a 9:34/mi. pace. Any time you can shave three minutes per mile off your pace is good.

While consistency on the road has been the theme over the past two weeks, the time of day (focus on the mornings) and adding strength and flexibility to the training have NOT been consistent. To minimize the risk that a workout doesn't happen, miles need to be logged first thing in the morning. To maximize potential, strength and flexibility need to be sprinkled during the day. Doing both will add energy and enthusiasm to everything done during the day.

The week ahead has 40 minutes of running on Tuesday, 50 minutes on Wednesday and 30 minutes on Thursday, with the exclamation point being the Celebration of Running 5K on Saturday morning. I'll throw in strength training on Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, and stretching every day. Three months ago, my goal for the final 5K of the summer was to run at a 9:00 per miles pace. Adjusting for imporvement, I'd be happy with a pace of 8:30/mi. (finishing at 26:21) and thrilled with a pace of 8:00/mi. (finishing at 24:48).

Or maybe I'll just follow Hank's lead by enjoying the run and the tall glass of water at the end.

One reason training faltered since the 5K over a month ago is that fishing trip to Alaska. As I mentioned previously, poor planning resulted in my running shorts spending the entire trip sitting on the couch at home. That meant spending Alaska time focusing on fishing and family without the interruption of e-mail or cell phone calls. My son and I came home with nearly 100 pounds of salmon, and a lifetime of memories. And zero miles logged.

The return to "real life" and routine was long, causing me to challenge which venue deserves the label "real life." It is nice to be home with my wife, son and daughter, our dog and rabbit. But it's also nice to experience life outside the four walls of an office in the great outdoors.

Nietzsche famously said, "He who has a why to live for can endure almost any how." If we have a purpose, we can push through nearly any barrier. The employee who shows up to work to earn a paycheck will accomplish a different level of success than the employee who looks to change the world through their work.

Two things crossed my path yesterday that brought attention to the issue of "purpose." First, I was listening to a story on NPR titled "People Who Feel They Have a Purpose in Life Live Longer." Research shows people with a defined purpose have less stress, are happier and as a result live longer and healthier lives. Second, Jon Gordon posted a blog entry about a frightening air travel experience he and his family had recently titled "Life and Death." Following that experience, Jon came closer to the two priorities in his life: (1) his family; and (2) making a difference through his life and his writing. These two articles remind me of the importance of purpose, and the role it plays to not only motivate WHAT you do, but HOW you do it.

Why am I running? What is the purpose? To say I'm running to qualify for Boston or to get in shape is no different than the person who goes to work to pick up the check. In reality, I'm running to be healthy for my family so I can be here to support them for a very long time, and I'm running to set an example to my kids that with hard work and discipline you can accomplish seemingly insurmountable goals.

I woke up this morning at 4am, and my alarm went off at 4:30. Around 4:45 my 13-year old son was standing over my bed saying he was going running. I jumped out of bed and told him I was going with him. He was dressed in the fatigues and combat boots he bought for the trip to Alaska, along with a Camelbak a former Marine gave him after seeing him run to the store last week. He's proud, and wants to be a Navy SEAL. He had a plan mapped. He wanted to run 1.7 miles out and back - a bit more than a 5K, he told me. I told him my plan had me running 30 minutes, but decided we'd run together. He worked hard, running most of the way out. He encouraged me to keep running while he walked most of the way back.

Unfortunately his boots and wool socks (I didn't know what he was wearing under those boots until he showed me upon his return) gave him blisters and a lesson. We'll let those blisters heal, and we'll buy the right socks. Then he'll get back out there on the road. He won't run in sneakers because that doesn't fit his "purpose." He's defining himself as tough, and seeks to get tougher. Far be it from me to stand in his way, or in front of his purpose.