There's something about September that induces adventure.
One year ago, two of my best friends and I did this.
Three years ago, I moved to England on short notice¹ to start a new job in a new country.
Seven years ago, I road-tripped with a friend from Maine to Alaska, spending two months living in a van and traversing over twenty thousand miles of highway.
There are myriad other examples, but I think you get the picture.²
Maybe it's the crispness in the air, the cool nights and still pleasantly warm days. Maybe it's an escape mechanism to postpone acknowledgment of the swift arrival of winter. Maybe it's just an artifact of post-educational life, when you find yourself subconsciously seeking to start something new, something different.³ Whatever the case, September has often been a month which has included some new life course, some challenging adventure, or some pursuit of a dream realized.
Recently, after a weekly 5K community run, someone asked me what I was training for. I found myself at a loss; I didn't have anything on the horizon, which is a bit of a rarity for me. And it made me realize that this September was currently void of anything epic.
That was easy enough to fix.
New challenge: Run across Latvia. In a month
Not actually, of course. It'd be a little bit difficult since I'm not in Latvia at the moment.⁴ But as soon as I found out that my return to Riga was going to be delayed for yet another month, my mind immediately jumped into adventure-planning overdrive mode. I've usually got at least a half-dozen crackpot schemes being juggled around at any given time - some feasible, most not - and this was one of those times when several ideas melded together quickly to point me in my current direction. Here's a rough outline of how this worked:
First, the idle thought. "I wonder how far it is across Latvia; could you bike or run across it? In a day? A week? A month? How long would it take?"
Second, the math. Latvia is, by my best estimate, 500km across from east to west.⁵ That's too far to do in a day by either foot or by bicycle; you could do it in a week on a bike, but my bike is currently in transit to Latvia, so that's out. A month would be about right for running distance; that's sixteen kilometers (ten miles) a day, which is strenuous but hardly ridiculous. It'd be a challenge, but wouldn't completely consume your entire life either.
Third, the timing. At the moment of this line of thought, it was almost exactly one month until I'd be back in Latvia. Hmm.
Fourth, the ability to do the challenge. Fair chance, but definitely not a sure thing. Enough training to make it possible, but not enough to make it probable. Perfect.
There's probably a need for control creeping into this sort of idea; when everything seems to be out of my control, I'll just manufacture a situation which I can then control completely! There's probably a desire to remain relevant, to convince myself that I'm not growing older and more feeble, that I'm not a washed-up old man yet. Most likely, I'm trying to impress people with my discipline and physical training regimen.⁶ And there's of course the element of "what on earth am I going to do for this next month to keep myself distracted from the fact that I've been exiled in England for close to an entire season?"
More than that, though, is the fact that at this point in my life I know myself fairly well. I know that there's something in my soul that craves a challenge, even if it's a manufactured one. I know that I need routine, discipline, and structure in my life in order to be a healthy and functioning member of society. And if there isn't going to be any challenge or any routine, my best bet is to create something to fill that void.
So, we're five days into this silly plan, and so far it's sixty miles down, two hundred fifty to go.⁷ Feeling good at the moment, but this isn't a one-day sprint; it's a month-long marathon.⁸ Hoping to avoid any injuries along the way that could derail my attempt to traverse the width of Latvia (in England).
It reminds me to pray for Latvia as well. For my friends there, for the country itself, for all the ministries already established and those that haven't yet begun, for the spiritual darkness which seems to hover over this country to be lifted, and for wisdom and strength for myself as I prepare to return there in a month's time. As the miles roll away and I slowly - yet surely - tick off the days until I am back, I hope that these weeks remaining in England can serve as a time of training, of seasoning, and of growth.
¹Short notice, as in "less than three weeks to pack, get a visa, buy one-way ticket to London, and raise financial support for an entire year."
²I'd like to tell you that I'm not bragging about former exploits, or trying to draw renewed attention to some epic events from my past. But that's probably not true. After all, who doesn't want to be admired and respected for what they've accomplished? The flip side of it, however, is that I can't brag too much, because then someone who has actually accomplished something truly impressive would be forced to pipe up and say "Yeah, a while back I cycled to Mt. Everest from Sweden, and then hiked it with no oxygen or sherpa support." (True story). And then I'd just feel sheepishly unaccomplished.
³Maybe it's just the fact that I already gave this post the title of "September" and am now forced to prove a theory which I made up about my own life as a convenient framework for introducing whatever it is I'm about to write next.
⁴And won't be for another four weeks. Not that anyone's counting.
⁵That's 310 miles, for all those who have yet to discover the beauty of the metric system.
⁶What is this, high school all over again??
⁷Ok, so I switch back and forth between miles and kilometers depending on which is a more attractively round number. So sue me.
⁸Just under twelve marathons, to be precise.
One year ago, two of my best friends and I did this.
Three years ago, I moved to England on short notice¹ to start a new job in a new country.
Seven years ago, I road-tripped with a friend from Maine to Alaska, spending two months living in a van and traversing over twenty thousand miles of highway.
There are myriad other examples, but I think you get the picture.²
Maybe it's the crispness in the air, the cool nights and still pleasantly warm days. Maybe it's an escape mechanism to postpone acknowledgment of the swift arrival of winter. Maybe it's just an artifact of post-educational life, when you find yourself subconsciously seeking to start something new, something different.³ Whatever the case, September has often been a month which has included some new life course, some challenging adventure, or some pursuit of a dream realized.
Recently, after a weekly 5K community run, someone asked me what I was training for. I found myself at a loss; I didn't have anything on the horizon, which is a bit of a rarity for me. And it made me realize that this September was currently void of anything epic.
That was easy enough to fix.
New challenge: Run across Latvia. In a month
Not actually, of course. It'd be a little bit difficult since I'm not in Latvia at the moment.⁴ But as soon as I found out that my return to Riga was going to be delayed for yet another month, my mind immediately jumped into adventure-planning overdrive mode. I've usually got at least a half-dozen crackpot schemes being juggled around at any given time - some feasible, most not - and this was one of those times when several ideas melded together quickly to point me in my current direction. Here's a rough outline of how this worked:
First, the idle thought. "I wonder how far it is across Latvia; could you bike or run across it? In a day? A week? A month? How long would it take?"
Second, the math. Latvia is, by my best estimate, 500km across from east to west.⁵ That's too far to do in a day by either foot or by bicycle; you could do it in a week on a bike, but my bike is currently in transit to Latvia, so that's out. A month would be about right for running distance; that's sixteen kilometers (ten miles) a day, which is strenuous but hardly ridiculous. It'd be a challenge, but wouldn't completely consume your entire life either.
Third, the timing. At the moment of this line of thought, it was almost exactly one month until I'd be back in Latvia. Hmm.
Fourth, the ability to do the challenge. Fair chance, but definitely not a sure thing. Enough training to make it possible, but not enough to make it probable. Perfect.
There's probably a need for control creeping into this sort of idea; when everything seems to be out of my control, I'll just manufacture a situation which I can then control completely! There's probably a desire to remain relevant, to convince myself that I'm not growing older and more feeble, that I'm not a washed-up old man yet. Most likely, I'm trying to impress people with my discipline and physical training regimen.⁶ And there's of course the element of "what on earth am I going to do for this next month to keep myself distracted from the fact that I've been exiled in England for close to an entire season?"
More than that, though, is the fact that at this point in my life I know myself fairly well. I know that there's something in my soul that craves a challenge, even if it's a manufactured one. I know that I need routine, discipline, and structure in my life in order to be a healthy and functioning member of society. And if there isn't going to be any challenge or any routine, my best bet is to create something to fill that void.
So, we're five days into this silly plan, and so far it's sixty miles down, two hundred fifty to go.⁷ Feeling good at the moment, but this isn't a one-day sprint; it's a month-long marathon.⁸ Hoping to avoid any injuries along the way that could derail my attempt to traverse the width of Latvia (in England).
It reminds me to pray for Latvia as well. For my friends there, for the country itself, for all the ministries already established and those that haven't yet begun, for the spiritual darkness which seems to hover over this country to be lifted, and for wisdom and strength for myself as I prepare to return there in a month's time. As the miles roll away and I slowly - yet surely - tick off the days until I am back, I hope that these weeks remaining in England can serve as a time of training, of seasoning, and of growth.
¹Short notice, as in "less than three weeks to pack, get a visa, buy one-way ticket to London, and raise financial support for an entire year."
²I'd like to tell you that I'm not bragging about former exploits, or trying to draw renewed attention to some epic events from my past. But that's probably not true. After all, who doesn't want to be admired and respected for what they've accomplished? The flip side of it, however, is that I can't brag too much, because then someone who has actually accomplished something truly impressive would be forced to pipe up and say "Yeah, a while back I cycled to Mt. Everest from Sweden, and then hiked it with no oxygen or sherpa support." (True story). And then I'd just feel sheepishly unaccomplished.
³Maybe it's just the fact that I already gave this post the title of "September" and am now forced to prove a theory which I made up about my own life as a convenient framework for introducing whatever it is I'm about to write next.
⁴And won't be for another four weeks. Not that anyone's counting.
⁵That's 310 miles, for all those who have yet to discover the beauty of the metric system.
⁶What is this, high school all over again??
⁷Ok, so I switch back and forth between miles and kilometers depending on which is a more attractively round number. So sue me.
⁸Just under twelve marathons, to be precise.