Reading Time: 4 minutes

Yesterday I ran intervals. Sometimes they’re called repeats, but most runners just call them evil.

They’re short. There’s usually a lot of them (in my case, 10 sets). And they almost always get harder the more of them you do.

What this means is simply that interval training is something that sounds a lot better than it actually feels, and if we’re honest, it doesn’t even really sound that great. At least not to runners.

“I’m not a runner and now, I never will be!” I hear you. But you don’t have to be a runner to learn some important lessons that can help you be a better leader.

(In all honesty, you don’t even have to be a leader to learn them, but if you are, knowing these principles will help you understand the people you are leading.)

You can’t run fast forever, but you’ll run faster when you know you can rest.

Most leaders struggle with pace. Either we’re always on or we’re on the mend from trying to be always on. But what I love about interval training is that I can run at a much faster pace because I know that a recovery interval is coming and that recovery interval is just as important as the running one. In fact, the recovery actually enables me for the next sprint.

It’s no different in leading people, whether it’s your family, your church or your business. You can’t give 100% effort 100% of the time. You’ve got to have periods of rest and recovery, and when you make that a normal part of your rhythm, so will the people following you. Stop pushing yourself – and others – to do what we were never made to do.

Learn the secret of the Sabbath. Even God rested on the 7th day, and because He’s God, we know that He didn’t actually require rest. Instead, He was modeling the rhythm of rest.

[Tweet “You can’t run fast forever, but you’ll run faster when you know you can rest.”]

What makes us better usually doesn’t feel like it’s making us better.

I don’t know a lot of runners who actually wake up on interval days and scream, “Yay! Today I get to almost throw up!!” That would be crazy. We don’t like the training, but all of us love the benefit of the training: better cardio, lower resting heart rate, quicker turnover, faster pace, passing more people at the end of races. You know, the important stuff.

But in the middle of an interval, it doesn’t feel like you’re getting better. It actually feels like you’re going to meet Jesus. Interval training teaches me that I can’t lead based on my emotion because so much of what I need to do to improve as a leader won’t feel good when I’m doing it.

Like Jesus, I’ve got to see past the pain in order to push through the pain. The writer of Hebrews tells us that “for the joy set before Him (He) endured the cross.” One of the weaknesses of the current church culture is an inability to handle pain and if we want to change that culture, we’ll need to change ourselves.

Trust me, what makes us better usually doesn’t feel like it’s making us better. But it is.

[Tweet “What makes us better usually doesn’t feel like it’s making us better. But it is.”]

Last one, best one

One of the highlights of my children’s middle school years was coaching their cross-country teams, and if you asked the runners on those teams what I said during every interval workout, they would say 4 words: last one, best one.

We tend to slow down the more tired we get, but in a race, the goal is actually to run what are commonly called “negative splits.” A negative split means that you ran the second half of a race faster than you ran the first half, and in order to pull that off, you’ve got to learn how to run fast on tired legs.

How do you do that? You guessed it. You run each interval in the workout faster than the previous one and then, just when you feel like you can’t do it any faster, you do. You dig deep and find more in you then you thought you had and you make the last one the best one.

Most of us are pretty good at starting well – we join the gym, read the forward to a new book, determine to journal or blog – but the reality is that starting isn’t all that hard. Finishing is. And finishing better than we started is even harder. But if we’ll learn to trust the passion in us more than the pain in us, we’ll find ourselves surging at the end instead of finishing on fumes.

[Tweet “We’re pretty good at starting well, but starting isn’t all that hard. Finishing is.”]

Are you in the middle of a tough stretch as a leader? Do you feel like I did yesterday in the 8th, 9th and 10th interval of my workout? Let me leave you with these encouraging words from another leader who also found himself in that place from time to time. I pray that these would become your words, too.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. (Galatians 6:9)

You will reap. It’s a promise, and the only thing required of you is that you simply keep going.

Reading Time: 3 minutes

As I finished my last training run yesterday, it hit me…

I’m done.

Sure, there’s the small detail of actually running 50 miles on Saturday, but as far as getting ready for the biggest run of my life, there’s not a single thing left to do.

I’ve run almost 600 miles over the last several months.

I’ve posted countless updates on social media.

I’ve tagged numerous news outlets (hopefully it has increased the traffic for WBTV, WSOC, WCNC, FOX News, Fox & Friends, The Ellen Show and all the others!).

I’ve interviewed with the ones who responded (thanks SO MUCH for the coverage FOX46, 1010 WSPC and Stanly News and Press!!).

And now, there’s nothing left to do but run.

I told people early on that all I could control was the running, and it’s so true. I’ve got no control over the weather, the media coverage or even the amount of money we raise (although I am BEYOND THRILLED to be over 25% funded BEFORE I even take the first step!!).

We can’t ever waste energy on what others may be able to do, because at the end of the day, the only real question is how did WE spend the day? Did we do everything we could for others? Did we do everything we could to make sure we were in the best position to help others?

In other words, did we do what we could or just complain about what we couldn’t?

[Tweet “Have you done what you could or just complained about what you couldn’t?”]

If I’ve learned one thing during this whole process, it’s this: Do what you can do now while you dream about what you can’t do yet.

[Tweet “Do what you can do now while you dream about what you can’t do yet.”]

So many times we get paralyzed by the size of a problem. We see the enormity of a situation and quickly forget that if we do what we can, the likelihood of others joining in and doing what they can often creates a movement that can quickly grow to be much bigger than the problem.

It could happen, but it won’t happen without someone – anyone – going first.

And I’m not first. The organizations I’m running for are. Today, there are numerous groups fighting human trafficking because, years ago, Christine Caine decided that she’d do something, and A21 was born. Justice Ministries in Charlotte exists in large part because of the avalanche of awareness that A21 has brought to the issue.

Sure, running 50 miles is going to hurt, but the scariest part in all of this has been the thought that I might go through the pain of it all and not succeed in raising the funds and awareness that are so desperately needed to set 50 people free.

But when it’s all said and done, the only control we have is whether or not we’ve done what we said.

[Tweet “When it’s all said and done, the only control we have is whether or not we’ve done what we said.”]

The wisest man to ever walk the planet was onto something when he wrote words that echo in my soul every time I feel the panic of taking on injustices that are far bigger than me or my abilities:

Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act. (Proverbs 3:27)

That one verse screams at me, and hopefully, at you, too. There is good to be done, and we are in a position to do it.

Don’t withhold it.

No matter what others do or don’t do, make sure that YOU do good.

[Tweet “No matter what others do or don’t do, make sure that YOU do good.”]

When enough of us do, the solution will begin to paralyze the problem.

 

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Ever since I announced that I’m goin to be running 50 miles on my 50th birthday to set 50 women free from human trafficking, I’ve gotten a lot of strange looks.

Most of them have come from the face in the mirror.

What am I doing?  Have I lost my mind?

(Please keep your answers to those questions to yourself.)

But without a doubt, the one question I’ve been asked the most is simply, “why?”

The answer to that question started in 2011, but wasn’t fully developed until the fall of 2015.

In 2011, I was on my 2nd trip to New Delhi, India, and in a frantic, last-minute “buy anything you can and pray to God the kids like it” shopping trip before getting on the plane to head home, I met her.

Well, she met me. She was about 9 years old – the same age as my daughter back home – and yet something was VERY different about this girl.

My daughter looked and acted like a 9-year-old. This girl looked and acted like a 29-year-old. It. Was. So. Bizarre.

She looked up at me with eyes that mesmerized me and asked if I wanted to by a necklace or 10, and I did. She was captivating, and quite possibly the best salesperson I’ve ever been around.  And yet something was so off about the whole transaction, and when I got on the van to head to the airport, I asked about it.

That night I learned what you have surely realized by now: that girl HAD to sell those necklaces because she was trapped, and she had been taught how to carry herself like a woman instead of a girl because American men will fall for that stuff. And then I learned that if she wasn’t rescued from that situation soon, she’d be selling something far more personal than necklaces.

I arrived home and kept that picture.

I looked at my daughter differently the first night back, maybe even the first couple of nights back. But over time, without even realizing it, the jolt I’d experienced during that shopping sprint faded.

Until I saw her again in 2013. In the same spot. Still (thankfully) only selling necklaces, but still selling for someone else and with no option to stop. My heart broke again.

It wasn’t until the B99 pulled up a trailer for a movie called Nefarious that I even realized that the jolt was gone, but as we watched the images of young girls and women being trafficked and Wendy sat with tears streaming down her face, I felt…nothing.

NOTHING.

Why am I running 50 miles in a day? Because I refuse to DO NOTHING just because I might not FEEL SOMETHING.

I refuse to let APATHY rule me, and so I am running because it reminds me that to be part of a MOVEMENT, we must MOVE.

To be part of a MOVEMENT, we must MOVE. Share on X

I’m running because my WIFE’S BURDEN matters to me, and this is one small way that I can honor what God is doing in her.

I’m running because I CAN and I’m praying that it will motivate others to do what THEY CAN.

I'm running because I CAN. I'm praying it motivates others to do what THEY CAN. Share on X

Speak up.

Stand up.

Donate.

Pray.

I’m hoping that you will be a part of giving a future to 50 women who only know a present from which they cannot escape.

If a lot do a little, it can change the world.

If you don’t believe that, I understand. I used to be you.

But now I’m not, and someday soon, you won’t be, either.

We’ll be the same. People with hearts that are broken because of a girl I met on the streets of New Delhi.

Someday, I pray I meet her again, on those same streets, grown up and…

Free.