God Gives Us Light in the Darkness: A Testimony

Little did I know While I was turning the lights out on 359 http://gchernandez3.blogspot.com/2013/11/lights-out-on-359-testimony.html God stoked embers inside of me that glowed brightly in the dark. I'm happy for the power of positive thinking. I know that no matter what my troubles are, there is always someone willing to trade their problems for yours. 

Tragic circumstances exist on this globe which (on the surface) make the lesson learned from blacking out during a marathon seem trivial. Most people probably think to themselves "that's what you get for running 26.2 miles" or some variation of that and I completely understand. "Big deal George, you blacked out, get over it, move on." My problem (or my blessing the way I see it), is that God didn't build me that way.  

I enjoyed math as much as the next kid, I certainly appreciated when the professor balanced the equation, showed us the way and turned on the light when I was in the dark. This isn't about running anymore. I quit breathing last year on Manayunk Ave between miles 20 and 21 of the Philadelphia Marathon. I recognized last year that that this script could have been completely different, I'm thankful that it wasn't.

Pastor Weece says that God doesn't inflict pain on us but he sure doesn't waste an ounce of it. After my Beautiful, Supportive and Loving Wife made sure that I saw our family doctor and a cardiologist and I passed all the tests, she put some winter running gear under the tree for me. I went for an easy three miles on Christmas Day, I shuffled along for 2 miles at an eleven minute pace and walked the last. I let doubt creep in to my psyche, "maybe I should bury this running activity." I had lost so much stamina in only one months time that my claim to the ER nurse at Roxborough Memorial of "I'm coming back next year to finish" seemed like a fable.

Starting over can be frustrating but it can also be refreshing. No matter what the circumstance, whether you're moving, taking a new job or it's your second chance at a degree we tend to reflect on the time invested the first go around as a waste before the reboot instead of the experience that we gained by the failure. We can't think about the work that was lost because there was something wrong with how we built it and the reality is that failure was inevitable.

Anyone that knows me, knows that these "building metaphors" that I'm incorporating are so hypocritical because when it actually comes to fixing or building anything around the house, I live by the motto "close enough is good enough." My three year old picked up on the fact that if something goes wrong around the house "we call a guy." It's so bad that a few months ago a light bulb when out in one of the fixtures and Pierce said, "Dad, when are you calling the guy?"

One of my favorite sayings is, "I know what I don't know." I'm interested in knowing more of what I don't because if I'm not learning then I'm not growing and that is a poor example to set for my son. That doesn't mean I'm going to start tiling my own floors but it does mean that I've spent the last year learning about why God saved me and why he saves any of us.

Through his blessings I trained hard this year, indoors and out, through nine degree weather and 90. He allowed me a lot if time to reflect and pray during the 600 miles logged. I opened my heart to his word everyday, the embers that he stoked November 17th, 2013, illuminated this realization: He saves us so that we can do Great Things! "Great" is different for everyone of us. It is our mission to realize and then maximize the potential that he instills.

My good friend says that failure can tear you down or it can galvanize you. We shouldn't be afraid to fail, cautious of how not to fail is different from being afraid because if God is on your side then who can be against you ~ Need to Breathe? 

After starting over I learned how to be a smarter runner, I'm thankful for the failure and the result of last year and by His Grace am stronger for it. I knew that even with one marathon completed between last year's episode and a string of PRs throughout 2014 that Philly wasn't going to be easy.

I was tactical during my training and was confident that no matter what happened, I would listen to my body and not a clock. I was cruising at a 8:40 pace through 20 miles. Making the final turnaround on Manayunk Ave was satisfying. Unfortunately, my legs started to cramp. I began a slow shuffle and after they locked up, I stood still, praying for comfort and lightly massaging them. With his help, I strung together a 14+ minute mile, a 12, and an 11. Ashleigh called after she got out of church she talked to me the last two miles, she told me the sermon that she just listened to was about slaying your giants, how's that for irony?

Proverbs 16:9
The heart of man plans his way, but The Lord establishes his steps.

The Lord established my steps those last two miles while I listened to Ash and my baby boy, they helped me cross the line to establish a new PR of 4:06. Reflecting now, I think it was fitting that my legs stiffened up at about the same spot that I blacked out last year and I think it was fitting that I didn't finish less than 3:59. It's a reminder that without his help, I can't come close to maximizing my potential. I'm here to do great things and through him, I'm going to.

You can to!

Thanks Brian

My experiences are new to me, the lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time I'm just figuring out the Silver and Black Lining!

P.S. If you visit Philly, stay away from Manayunk Ave.

We Can Hit A Curve!

My Baseball career was short lived, two years of tee ball is what would be compiled on the back of my playing card. I rep'd (the grammatically incorrect "rep'd" speaks to my street cred) the Lions my first year and the Eagles in my second campaign. It’s safe to say that I probably couldn’t hit a curve in the traditional sense but you let me stand in the batter’s box of life and have one shot at the the proverbial one, I promise, the contact I make with it wouldn’t give gravity a chance at bringing it back down to earth.

I’m not sure if everyone would agree with me but it was my experience that of all the lessons that I received from my parents/elders, there are a handful that made a larger impression. I recall when I was about 12 years old driving down our street (good ol’ Goodfellow Rd), with Dad. Pete (one of our neighbors and Dad’s co-workers) waved, so Dad pulled over. They began to talk shop. I didn’t have an iPhone to distract me so I did what most kids did and listened in on the conversation. The gist of the convo was that someone at work dropped the ball and Dad was left high and dry. Pete seemed to be more upset about the circumstance than Dad was and Pete pointed that out. 

Dad responded in a way that taught me more about dealing with the variables of life than probably any conversation we ever had. He said something to the effect of, “ what’s the point of getting pissed off about it, it happened, there’s nothing we can do about it now. being mad won’t change anything.” 

I’ve used that attitude, transformed and built upon it, molded into a greater philosophy with Ash’s help so that when life throws a curve at you, you have a better than 40 percent chance of handling it successfully. 

May 11, 2014, American Airlines sent me a text saying that our flight is going to be delayed an hour which will most certainly cause us to miss our connecting flight, turning our already long day of travel into an even longer day with now the variable of stress and uncertainty surrounding the three of us getting onto new flights with seats next to each other.

Our perfectly planned itinerary wadded up like a piece of paper that was torn incorrectly out of a spiral notebook and tossed into a wastebasket without ever getting the chance to be useful. No doodles were scribbled upon it, no pictures drawn or notes taken. ROUND FILE! 

BUT WAIT!

A change of plans, American Airlines threw a second curve at us, instead of the original arrival gate C14 there had been a change. In a somewhat cruel twist, the airline gave us a glimmer of hope that we would be able to catch our connecting. We were now docking at A17 and only needed to get to A9. We were positioned in the front of the plane and conceived a plane that would give us the best opportunity for success. I would carry Pierce and Ash would wear the backpack, carry her purse and P’s little bag. IF the connecting had been in a different terminal, there would’ve been NO shot but only eight gates away??? Could we do it???

It appeared my appetite for running would prove useful. We filed off the plane and I excused myself around an elderly couple. I shot out of that jet way like a cannonball with a 41 pound/41.5 inch long three year old plastered to the front. I got P jacked up while we were waiting our turn, I told him, “Pierce and Daddy are going to get to run to the next plane, I told him it was going to be just like Daddy’s race!” 

He responded the way I expected “Why Daddy?” 

I said, “Because Mijo, it’ll be fun!” We’re going to race Mommy!”

I’m not a sprinter, the challenging aspect of being a marathoner is how tired your legs get after 20 miles. I’m never out of breath, at a nine minute pace, I can have a conversation with anyone through out a race without a problem. 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as being ONLY eight gates apart. There was a connecting corridor under construction that had to be navigated. The scene set up like any romance movie that has the guy running to catch his next flight so that he can stop his true love from marrying the jerk that she was engaged to. Instead of 80 feet, I’d guess the corridor and the eight gates were a good quarter mile apart. I held P tight, my legs moved furiously and my lungs burned in a way that they were not accustomed to, converting oxygen in to enough energy to get us to the A9 finish line. 

WE MADE IT! 

The plane was still there, we could see it! Me, out of breath and Pierce saying through a smile and giggle that “Mommy can’t catch us!”, (poor Mommy.)

As my lungs expanded and collapsed more rapidly than they had in quite some time, the airline attendant, looked at me in a way that my Theatre teacher looked at me after an audition, before she told me that your effort was incredible but it wasn’t meant to be. They had pulled the bridge away and shut the door. There was NO WAY that they could re-open it. After hearing the news, I looked back down the hall in time to see Ash arrive, I gave her the same look that Mrs. Gaffney gave me when I didn’t get the part I wanted in Odd Couple, (for the record, I did get the parts I wanted in every other play that I auditioned for and Mrs. G made the right call in Odd Couple, Josh was a great Oscar.)

They were able to get Ash and I on a flight that left in one hour and after they realized that plan was broke, it was decided that P and I would take those two seats and Mommy would go solo on a flight two and half hours later. Happy Mother’s Day Mommy! I found myself getting emotional as we said goodbye to Mommy. Pierce had no idea what was going on and he couldn’t have been more agreeable. He was the MVP that day. We found our seats and there was little drama on the four hour flight to SFO. 

I had arranged a Happy Mother’s Day basket of wine and flowers to surprise Mommy as we arrived to our hotel suite. It wasn’t going to be the same surprise that I wanted to elicit because we weren’t all arriving together. Instead, I arranged for a driver to meet her at her gate, he held a sign that said, Happy Mother’s Day Ashleigh Hernandez! 

I made a boo boo booking the flight on MD. OOPS! BUT, I think we succeeded in making it a memorable one. Ash arrived 90 minutes after we did. Pierce showed her around the suite and did the “TA-DAAA!” unveiling the basket of flowers. We hugged each other tight, it was as if we were wringing out a dirty cloth that we used to clean up the mess that a delayed flight had caused. So that we could begin to soak up a week full of fun an memories.

I did the “TA-DAA”, with the wine after Pierce went to bed. Ash and I recounted the long day sipping on Pinot Noir, while looking at the Golden Gate and the Rock. It could’ve been worse. It always can, there is always someone willing to trade for your problems.

My experiences are new to me, the lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time, I'm just working out, what the Silver and Black Lining is.

We are exactly where we are supposed to be, when we're there.

Rest Now

The first memory that flashes to the front of all of the others is set on the living room floor of the house on Indiana. I had carefully placed all of my action figures on the floor across the bottom of the blue couch. I moved gingerly while recovering from a burst appendix. Auntie Ester watched me that week while Dad worked. I probably said something like "Auntie, Watch this!", I took the rubber bands out of my pocket and probably became the only man ever to pick off: Chuck Norris, Rambo and Hulk Hogan at the same time.

Another memory blinked back into my conscious as I relived the previous. Auntie Ester was sitting next to my hospital bed keeping me company while I recovered from having my appendix removed. The IV's were in my right hand and made it painful to draw or color. My Auntie Ester picked up the crayons and asked me what she should draw? We settled on a picture that looked like this; the first two inches at the bottom of the page were brown, (I told Auntie that it was dirt), the next few inches were green for the grass with flowers and the rest was blue sky with a yellow sun. My auntie put the finishing touches on it and said done. I picked up the brown crayon and with my left hand inserted dark squiggles in the dirt, it was all that I could contribute without messing up such a pretty picture. Auntie asked "what are those?" to which I replied "worms!", and she responded "MIJO, "that's nasty!" and we both giggled.

She is an incredibly selfless soul who loved her family and cared deeply for those within her circle. I used the present tense IS on purpose in the last sentence because she IS with us. She is present in a different way now, living instead in our memories and in our hearts and through the retelling of stories.

I know I've been absent from her everyday life for more than 18 years and I have only seen her a dozen days or so over the last decade but despite that, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about where I came from  and my family that is still there. I am blessed with a  better than average memory, I am thankful that I can remember small moments in great detail because it keeps me close to everyone. It keeps me close to you Auntie.

I remember when we were all sitting at the dinner table after a day of fishing and you told Robert to knock it off when he tried to rain on my excitement about catching the big fish. I can't blame him, I was off playing with sticks when uncle had the fish about reeled in and he was as patient as he could've been before I retold the embellished story for the 49th time. I remember you asking Mimi to look out for me when I tagged along with the big kids, whether it was stickball in the street or skateboarding.

I remember your white blazer and that you had one of the first car phones, it was as big as a car battery. I remember breakfast at McDonalds. I remember meals at Mi Ranchito. I remember meeting you and Dad for lunch at Cancun and showing you the purchase I made at Peck's, the ring that Ashleigh has worn for 9 years. I remember you and Auntie Becky being there when Dad couldn't be, making sure Patrick and I were taken care of.

I remember and I hope I never forget the sound of your voice saying MIJO. I know you're resting in a peaceful place, probably as peaceful as the picture that you drew for me by my hospital bed 27 years ago. Rest now Auntie, I know that I'll see you when I am supposed to. I love you. 

My experiences are new to me; the lessons learned are probably not new to you. Most of the time, I'm just working out what the Silver and Black Lining is.