Tuesday, 12 June 2012

Ratanak 2012 5km Walkathon

May 17, 2010

 “ For a marathon runner, Boston is the place to be. Three months ago, I noticed my training times were on pace to qualify me for the 2011 Boston Marathon. I kept this to myself, but qualifying for the event became my goal. One day while running, I decided to aim for Boston and use the knowledge, experience, contacts and credibility to organize a small 5km walk/run for Ratanak International.”

June 6, 2011

“500,000 people came to Boston to watch the marathon. $125 million dollars were generated for the city. It caused me to dream of having that kind of support for Ratanak International. I dreamed that one day could be set aside in the many places Ratanak has reached. I thought of Mississauga, Toronto, Vancouver, Saskatchewan, Winnipeg, Ottawa, Buffalo, Calgary, England, Ireland, Australia, and even Cambodia. I saw the girls from NewSong taking part in their own 5km walk. It would be a day when people around the world could walk or run in support of those who cannot. A day that is coming!”

As a boy, I remember watching The Odd Couple on TV. The characters were Oscar and Felix. In my own life recently, I was part of a couple that, if not odd, was definitely different. The Felix of this partnership is Paul, Toronto Ratanak representative.

And the Oscar is me, Larry, Ratanak volunteer.



The modern Felix loves music, plays the guitar and his house is full of Beatles memorabilia.
The modern Oscar loves sports and has tried every one; his house still has old hockey equipment and even his old boxing gloves.
The modern Felix works for a city and is a computer genius.
The modern Oscar works for a billion-dollar corporation and is constantly asking one of his daughters for help on the computer.
The modern Felix took part in one bike race - without endangering Lance Armstrong’s records.
The modern Oscar has run many races, and although he’s never quite met the high standards his daughters expect of him, has always finished in the top half of each race.
The modern Felix is a man who smiles all the time and is full of grace.
The modern Oscar rarely smiles, and longs for and admires people who have so much grace.
The modern Felix is optimistic and stays cool under pressure.
The modern Oscar is realistic and can unravel when pressure comes his way.

Putting our skills together, we were able to bring my dream to life: on June 2 in Erindale Park, Mississauga, we held the first-ever Ratanak 5km walkathon. We also had great support from our families and the City of Mississauga staff, and the support and prayers of the Toronto Core Group.

My first venture with Paul was to open a bank account to ensure proper bookkeeping for the event. Paul, always a planner, booked an appointment with a bank representative and off we went. Two minutes in, things were not going well: the bank employee asked to see a letter from the government proving Ratanak’s charitable status. (We hadn’t brought it with us.) We left the bank and wondered what to do next. We walked into another bank without an appointment and waited a while, but we were able to leave with what we needed.

Looking back, I realize this was the way most things went for this event. Paul took over the registration and had more than a few challenges in setting up the website. For me, one of the most challenging days was the day before the event. I had the day off work and had a long list of last-minute stops. For people who do not live in Toronto, the weather that day may have been the worst I can remember. It rained the whole day, heavy rain that comes in sideways, leaving you soaked and shivering within seconds. The wind reached 80 kph, and was strong enough to move my van on the highway. I got drenched at each stop and had trouble seeing the road through the rain. I stopped listening to the weather forecast for Saturday because I pictured Paul and myself being the only two people at the event. The City of Mississauga sent me three emails voicing their concerns about how the “inclement weather” would affect the event.

But the lowest point happened on Friday night. Gloria, my beautiful and amazing wife, and I set out to measure and mark the course. The rain and wind did not relent; parts of the course were full of water, so staying dry was not an option. A short way after the 2km mark we had to stop. Water from the Credit River had flooded onto the course and there was no way to walk through the knee-deep flood. Going home, I thought to myself that this event may become the Ratanak 4.2km walkathon. Earlier in the day, I thought maybe Satan had the weather for today, but I trusted God would reserve the weather for tomorrow. We had set the date months in advance when the weather was unpredictable. I had trusted that God would provide a nice day.

After returning home, I gathered my courage and looked at the Weather Network. The rain was supposed to stop at four o'clock in the morning. It was to start again at noon. I thought to myself that God had indeed set aside this place in time for an event to bless His precious children of Cambodia.

A few more snags awaited me on the day of the event. The 401 west was closed and some volunteers were a few minutes later than planned. My stopwatch refused to start, so we decided to time the event with the clock on Gloria’s phone. After a bit more juggling, the event was ready to start. Then the participants were off.

Fifty-five people took part. No records fell, but a few people ran impressive times. Runners always ask each other about their best times, and it makes me think of a shirt someone wore in a recent race. The shirt said, “Ask me about my best time.” I loved the answer: “My best time is the time I raised enough money to send a child with cancer to camp for a week.” The best time on Saturday was a group of amazing participants who braved a chilly, overcast day, an equally amazing group of volunteers who put up with me patiently and lovingly, and my “Felix” who registered and tracked donations and even checked people off as they finished. The best time was knowing that 55 people walked a total of 275 km, and raised over Seven Thousand dollars to help many children in Cambodia get a second chance in life.

I always see images in the races I run and write about them. Because I was busy on Saturday, I only saw one, yet it is an extremely powerful and beautiful image. My sister-in-law, Natalie, brought her almost-two-year-old daughter, beautiful Evangeline, to take part in the event. Natalie ran most of the race and carried Evangeline on her back.


I was standing near the finish line to greet each participant. When Evangeline saw me, she made a fuss and told Natalie she wanted to run to Uncle Larry. I watched in amazement as Natalie and my wife, Gloria, each took one of Evangeline’s hands, and the three of them finished the race running together. I thought to myself that this a picture of what is happening today. Money raised from events like this take exploited children out of places of danger and place them safely on the back of someone who loves them and is willing to carry them when they are weak and vulnerable. In time, the children will heal enough and be able to run on either side of the people who love them. Although Evangeline couldn’t run by herself on Saturday, one day she’ll be able to. In Cambodia this is already happening, as some of the very first Newsong girls, girls who have been horrifically abused, have been accepted and are going to University.

Gary Haugen, the founder of International Justice Mission and author of the book Good News About Injustice, starts his book with the words, “As the father of four small children I find myself thinking more and more about the core gift I would like to give them to take into the world.” He went onto say he wished to give them courage.

As the father of two not-so-small children, I would like to give them a gift. The gift I would like to give is “to look down, and not up.” By that, I mean, “Don’t look up at people who are more successful or have more money than you. Don’t look up at people who are more famous or more attractive than you. Look down toward people who have less than you and who need help. Look down and offer whatever you can: your time, your money, your love. Look down and thank God for each and every blessing He has given you, and share them with people who need them most.”

My two daughters continually amaze me. They both are light years ahead of where I was in terms of helping others when I was their ages. Katarina wrote about the Michael Jackson song “Man in the Mirror” and what it meant to her. She was singled out for praise from her teacher for her depth of understanding at such a young age.

An idea in the note we handed out to each participant came from Isabella. We gave out this note, along with a ball on Saturday:

“Two Dollars or Priceless”

Thank you for taking the time and effort to participate in the first-ever Ratanak 5km walkathon. Take this gift from us as a reward, a prize for your hard work. I know it does not look like very much, but please read on!

Today this event benefited children in Cambodia whose start in life was something most of us cannot even imagine.

The shirt you were given has the words “Not Forgotten” written on it. Ratanak International, the non-profit organization that will receive 100% of today’s donations, has not forgotten these children. Each volunteer who helped with today’s event has not forgotten these children.

The ball you are holding was bought at a dollar store. The purchase price for all of these balls could have purchased two children in Cambodia. This ball has no value; it is a disposable item. The children you walked for today, at one time, had a lot in common with this ball, but NOT ANYMORE!

These are the words from a ten-year-old girl born in Canada. Her hope is that she can help a ten-year-old girl in Cambodia. This is what this ball means to her. My hope is that, for some of you, her words will ring true:

“This ball is a clear and see-through plastic. It has hundreds of little pieces surrounding a little ball inside the rubber. When you bounce the ball, the little ball inside the big ball lights up very bright and glows for a very long time.”

“The little ball represents the exploited children in Cambodia. The many little pieces surrounding the little ball represent all the people who work to help free these children. When the children are free, the light is able to shine brightly through them and eventually by them.”

So what is next for me? In Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, Solomon talks about a time for everything. Verse 3 talks about a time to kill and a time to heal. Verse 8 talks about a time for war and a time for peace.

I have been to war twice in the last three weeks. It has taken a heavy toll on me. It took my body ten full days to recover from the Toronto Marathon. Planning the Ratanak 5km was a different sort of stress. I have given my heart and soul for the children of Cambodia for the last six years. I am taking the summer off; I think the word is a sabbatical. I am watching my daughter play soccer and my other daughter take Zumba classes. We are planning to go to the beach. I am going to try to catch up on a mountain of yard work. I may rework some old writings. I am going to pray. I am going to rest, and I am going to come back in September hopefully a stronger, more efficient and wiser advocate.

After the last marathon I wrote that it might be my last. A lady named Annie asked me twice if this was so and even had Gloria ask me. I ran 10 seconds slower than a Boston qualifying time so the Boston Marathon 2013 is not an option for me. Annie, I still don’t know, although I admit I have googled upcoming marathons in American cities for May 2013. Cleveland has one that fits my work schedule and has a question on their web page encouraging participants to send them the reason they choose to run in this marathon, with publicity and prizes being sent to inspirational stories. Annie, stay tuned.

In closing, my amazing editor told me amidst her sea of corrections in my last writing that perhaps I should identify what my Core Group is, as people reading this may not know what the words mean. My rebellious nature raised up and I ignored this suggestion. Sorry if I leave anyone out.

The Toronto Ratanak Core Group was founded by:

Lisa, a lady with a background in finance
Here are some of the people in our group
Paul, who works for the city
Jessika, who works in a law firm
Me, the marathon runner
Tori, an Engineering student who designs and sells the Not-Forgotten shirts
John, who works with seniors
Joy, a piano teacher
Linda-Ruth, a lawyer who decided to be a stay-at-home mother to raise her daughter
Janice, who works in business
Sarah, who works for another city and creates beautiful jewellery to raise money for Ratanak in her spare time
Esther, an acupuncturist
Mary, who works with challenged children
Mir-ha, a school teacher
Susan, who helps troubled women
Hilary, a pastor`s wife
Phil, I do not know his vocation but he is a great photographer
Isabelle, a teacher

If I were putting together a group to raise awareness for the children in Cambodia, I would start with a lawyer, a doctor, a police officer, a soldier, a pastor, a politician, many counsellors, and I would add a few movie stars, rock stars and a billionaire or two. This is the army I would pick to fight for the children in Cambodia. Funny how things work in God’s economy. My group has very few, if any, from my list. What we have is a united group that believes we are weak and insignificant individually, but together with God leading us, we are crazy enough to believe we can make a difference in this world.

The man who helped me set up this blog was amazed at how many hits it has received, as several websites have picked it up, allowing access to people in parts of the world I never could have imagined. Possibly you are one of them. Possibly you are moved, and even challenged by some of this writing. Possibly you are wondering what there is you can do to help someone but think you don`t have the skills.Cambodia may not be your calling. Many other parts of the world need people to help.I encourage you to take whatever you have to offer and jump in wholeheartedly. You will never regret this decision.

Larry 

Friday, 11 May 2012

2012 Toronto Marathon

2009 Mississauga Marathon 3 Hours 42 Minutes
2010 Mississauga Marathon 3 Hours 19 Minutes
2011 Boston Marathon 3 Hours 25 Minutes
2012 Toronto Marathon

Four years, four full marathons, 109 miles, and more than 14 hours of running on concrete and asphalt. Another year, another marathon finished. Are my days of running marathons finished as well? I truly don’t know. When I crossed the finish line I thought they were, but now I’m not so sure.

I sent the following to a major running magazine, which asked the question, “Why do you run?” I run for many of the same reasons as other Canadian runners. I started running as a form of cross training in my exercise program. However, I believe my reasons for running marathons may be unique, and I would like to share them:
  • I run marathons to help fund a project called the NewSong Center in Cambodia, which is supported by the organization Ratanak International. At the center, sixty girls rescued from the sex trade are counselled, educated, and taught survival skills.
  • I run marathons for these Cambodian girls who are between three and nineteen years old.
  • I run marathons to raise awareness for the two million girls worldwide who are forced into prostitution.
  • I run marathons to show my daughters that nothing is impossible, and that it is never okay to give up. Nothing and no one should stop someone from pursuing a dream.
  • I run marathons because my father always told me, “One man can make a difference.” Running marathons has allowed me to try to be that man.
  • I run marathons because I can. The girls I run for sometimes can’t even walk.
  • I run marathons because even the hills in Boston can’t compare to the hills these girls must overcome in their daily lives.
  • When I run marathons, the pain I experience is temporary, but it reminds me of the pain these girls must bear. And the marathon training, in a very small way, reminds me of the girls’ everyday struggles.
  • I run marathons because I am not smart enough to stop. This year I completed the Toronto GoodLife marathon to help bring new life in Cambodia.
  • I run marathons because now that I’ve started, I can’t see myself stopping.
  • I run marathons because when my life is over, the “thank you” of even one young girl will mean more to me than any title, position, or money I could earn.
In summary, I run marathons because even though they are more demanding than I could have ever dreamed or imagined, when I cross the finish line, I wouldn’t trade my sense of contentment and well-being even to win the races.

At a core group meeting, a friend referred to me as a fundraiser, which I find amusing—nobody likes asking people for money less than I do. I once told Lisa Cheong who is in Cambodia doing work for Ratanak right now that if I worked somewhere for minimum wage instead of putting in hours and hours of marathon training, I would probably raise more money for Ratanak than I do running.

On Sunday, as I ran through downtown Toronto, I passed elaborate displays of wealth and splendour in the business area. The major banks had massive buildings for their headquarters. In my limited time as a fundraiser, I’ve found that small-business owners and average people have been very supportive of my cause. Large businesses have not contributed anything. I wonder why. Do big businesses look at what they can get out of their giving? For example, is the problem of childhood obesity in Canada worse than the plight of young children forced to work in the brothels of Cambodia? As I ran today, I thought that if even one of these corporations were to make a contribution from their wealth, so many more children could be helped.

Today was a first: my former fundraising manager and biggest supporter, my father, did not come to this race. He is recovering from two recent operations. Instead, my family Gloria, Katarina, Isabella, Gloria’s mother (Nona), and I piled into our van at 6:15 a.m., and they dropped me off at the starting line. I was very tired as, in keeping with tradition, I slept fewer hours than I will run.


The first part of the race was uneventful and was a nice course as I ran through parts of downtown Toronto that I rarely get the chance to see. I hit the halfway point and was feeling strong; the time was not my best, but it was something I could live with, and I thought I could keep up the pace for the whole race.

At the 30-km mark, a feeling like an electric current started tingling in my right quadriceps. In the past, this has been a warning signal that severe cramping is about to begin. The current spread to my calf, and I felt the first spasm start. I placed my hand on my leg and said a quick prayer. The pain relented a bit, and I thought back to my longest day of training. On that day, I had the choice to wake up at 5 a.m. to get my long run in, or go to an early church service and run afterward.

The weather report the night before called for heavy rains all day. Crossing my fingers, I decided against the early wake-up and went to church. Wrong move. I could hear the rain pounding on the church roof, and driving home, I knew I had a miserable run ahead of me. Isabella asked many times, “Why do you have to run today?” It was hard to explain, but striking a delicate balance between family time and work requires days when I have to run. At just one month away from the marathon, I couldn’t put off my run until the next day. Sorry, Izzy. Rain or not, I had to run.

I have to be creative and design a training course that allows me to be outside for more than three hours. I ran Centennial hill a few times. In an earlier posting, I wrote that this hill is symbolic of the young girls in Cambodia as they get a fresh start in life.


Later on, as I ran past an empty golf course, I felt a sharp pain start in my right calf. Those who know me well know this is the same problem that almost stopped my marathon career before it even started. I’ve had no problem with my calf all year, and sensing where this attack was coming from, I started yelling angrily at the top of my lungs:


No more auction block for them
No more, no more
No more auction block for them
Many thousands gone
No more strange man’s hands on them
No more, no more
No more beatings for them
Many thousands gone
No more rapes of them
Many thousands gone
No more auction block for them
No more, no more
No more auction block for them

This is a song I came across two marathons ago, it is a song sung by Slaves freed in the United States I changed a few words to make it more appropriate for child slaves, the words sums up why I run marathons and my belief that the exploited children in Cambodia can and will have a new life.

The pain went away and I continued my run. Right after this, a different sort of writing came into my head. I wrote down the words after I finished.

There is a place that I know
That mortal men should fear to go.
It is a place of depravity and shame,
A place where its leader was once called Cain.
The children who are kept in this place
Suffer much disgrace.
They are held against their will
And beaten and made to lie still.

This is a place that should be dark,
Yet I see a tiny spark,
A ray of hope in this domain.
One day the light will surely reign.

I am called to run this race,
And this is where I see God’s face.
I stumble often, He picks me up.
I know this place is my cup.

The voice tells me I am weak and small,
One day I believe this giant will fall.
This giant feeds on fear and wrath.
One day this giant will be snapped in half.

The giant is an awesome beast.
The children are its favourite feast.
The place I see I hate to go,
Yet something draws me, this I know.

I finished the rest of this training run, setting a new record of 3 hours, 46 minutes, and pronounced myself on track for the upcoming marathon.

The pain in my legs brought me back to the reality of the race, and I thought to myself that this was going to be a tough finish. A friend recently told me that God is everywhere. Sometimes I find it hard to believe God is in the brothels of Cambodia, but I have no doubt that He was at the 32-km mark.

Every race has photographers taking pictures of runners during the event, hoping to sell pictures afterward. I always find it amusing when people tell me to smile. I find it hard to smile for a family portrait. But after the first half of the marathon was finished, when the pain had really started up, there was no way I was going to look happy for a picture. But this was an exception. I didn’t smile; I actually laughed. Why? A band by the roadside was playing an old song by the White Animals. It was none other than “Gloria.” A reminder of my most beautiful wife at this point in the race kept me going.

As I ran through a park, the promised water stations weren’t there, a sign of things to come. The cramping had made me change my stride, and I took very small steps trying to continue. At the 35-km mark, there was a huge commotion. Isabella saw me and ran excitedly beside me. (I thought of giving her my racing bib as she was running so much faster than I was.) Then Nona yelled my name and crossed into the path of runners. Katarina was so excited, she ran towards me, leaving her two-year-old niece in the swing by herself. Isabella asked how I was doing. I said, “No good,” and pointed at my right leg, shaking my head.

At the 36-km mark, the water station had plenty of water and Gatorade but no cups. This was my low point. Looking back, I realize that quitting a marathon has never been an option for me. I remember two fellow runners in Boston talking about the $20 they had stashed for cab fare, in case they couldn’t finish. Many times on Sunday, I saw people stop running and head off the course. But I can’t ask people to sponsor me for a full marathon and only run half. In a way, I am offering a pound of my flesh. I believe there is also something deeper at play here. I cannot quit, because if I do, I believe I am giving up on the girls in Cambodia.

Then the toughest moment was upon me. My left quadriceps started to spasm, and I had to stop running to stretch out both legs. I started moving slowly, no longer worried about my time. After walking a bit, I sent out another quick prayer, which seems to be a common part of my marathons: “I ask that I may finish this race running, not walking.” I feel it’s important to finish strong. The first few steps were torture, but I kept going. I said to myself, “NewSong girls, you must carry me now.”

The rest of the race was a blur. I moved slowly, and many runners passed me. Right before the finish line, I saw beautiful Gloria cheering me on, and I crossed the line running. I saw that my time was 3 hours, 35 minutes, and I confess I was disappointed - I thought I should have run much faster. After rehydrating myself, I found Gloria through the mob of people. She hugged me, and a wave of emotion hit me. I couldn’t speak for a few minutes. She thought my disappointment with my time caused this, but when I could speak, I told her I realized this may be my last marathon; what the races have come to mean to me hit me all at once. In my last blog, I posted this picture and wrote about everything that is wrong with it and how it affects me.

 


These are lyrics from a Mumford & Sons song:

How fickle my heart and how woozy my eyes
I struggle to find any truth in your lies

Lend me your eyes I can change what you see
But your soul you must keep, totally free

To me, the lyrics relate to the picture and mean this: The picture represents the estimated two million children worldwide forced to work as prostitutes. It’s an enormous problem that you and I will never be able to solve in a hundred lifetimes. The “lie” in the song is that we can do nothing. But instead of looking at all that’s wrong with the picture, we can look at it as an opportunity. Look at it and ask yourself what you can do to change the life of one of these children.

A few years ago, I said I wanted to raise enough money to keep a young girl out of a brothel and safe in a place like NewSong for one year. Wednesday, during my last run before the marathon, I felt that this has been accomplished. Think about it. Besides being a father or husband, what greater reward could I receive than the knowledge that my work of the last four years has indeed kept one of these precious children safe?

Larry 

Monday, 30 April 2012

Around the Bay in Two Plus Hours


In 7 days I will  run in Toronto`s Goodlife Marathon.  A runner once said 'the shelf life of a Marathon runner is only slightly longer than a fruit fly.'  Realizing that this area of my life can end at any time, I have used a few different races this year to prepare myself for the Toronto Marathon and included my family as often as I can. A few Sundays ago was the 30 km “Around the Bay” run around Hamilton`s Harbour.


The night before the race:

I am restless because even though I feel fine physically, this winter was challenging for me on a few levels.  Doubts assail me and I wonder if I am up to the challenge.  Before going to bed I look at a picture on my Computer monitor that has become a constant reminder of why I have choosen to run.   I than pray that I will only run for God`s glory.  Feeling better, I go to bed and have a somewhat peaceful sleep. 
 

I awake at 6.30 a.m. with an upset stomach, a tension headache in my neck, and a sinus headache above my eyes.  Chuckling to myself, I wonder which type of pain relief I need; fortunately I choose Ibuprofen and both of my headaches cease.  My elder daughter is not feeling well, so she decides to stay at home. The younger one, while not feeling great, decides to come at the last possible minute. After my parents arrive at our house, my wife, my other daughter and I drive to Hamilton without any excitement.
 

The race: 

Walking around outside the starting line, I think of a T-shirt a I remember seeing a missionary wear around my Church, which said   'Make war on the floor'.  I guess it was a strong statement of this lady`s personal belief in the power of prayer.  I think to myself that this is what my runs are about: in a strange way I am making war when I run, although in my mind I see many reasons that should disqualify me for such a task. Running a race is a very individual event; people cheering for you can help, but for the most part on the course, you are by yourself against the difficulty of the course, the elements, and a lot of times against your own body and mind. THE ONE THING I KNOW!  - is that when I run a race for Ratanak and the girls at the New Song Center, I am never alone.



The start is uneventful and I hope to run a 'smart' race today.  I have actually taken the time to look at the race map and note that the last 10 km have some huge hills, so I try to hold off a bit to save some energy for the finish.  I am looking for my family at the starting line.  I see them before they see me and I yell out 'Izzy' (my daughter`s nick name). A rare thing happens then:   my father snaps a quick photo and there actually is a picture of me smiling.


At the 7km mark a sign captures my eye. It says 'Learn to love the pain.'  Not quite, but as I think of my experience in running long distances, I see where I have learned to tolerate the pain, and sometimes even embrace the pain as I sense what is being accomplished.


The Picture

Shortly after these thoughts, the picture I have thought about many times this winter comes to mind.  On the Ratanak website under Projects -- Child Exploitation Projects -- New Song is “The Picture.”  A picture tells a thousand words - well, this picture tells of two lives.  These two tiny girls have their heads bowed.   They are on a bed.  The younger one is leaning on the older one, possibly for comfort or safety, yet safety is a world away.  Compassion will not come to these girls.  They are so small, so frail, so delicate, so beautiful, so innocent, so shattered, so shamefully exploited.  Such evil has overwhelmed and consumed their young lives.



What do I, a man, feel when I look at this picture?  I feel shock: I have heard many stories of abuse such girls as these face, yet every time I read or hear a new story I still find it hard to believe.  I feel shame: men who may have much in common with me have deeply wounded these girls’ flesh and spirits, and I wonder - not for the first time - if this world would not be better off without men if this is what we are capable of.  I feel anger: I confess that I imagine having a group of my friends, all strong, good men, much like David`s 'mighty men' from the Bible, searching out and punishing the men who have harmed these girls.  I am convicted, and wonder what else I can possibly do to help girls such as these. I am overwhelmed if I think of so many other little girls around the world with heads bowed in shame, enduring unspeakable acts of cruelty on their young bodies.


I am reminded of the words of a song (that I liked more than 20 years ago) by the group 54-40:


  I Go Blind

  Every time I look at you I go blind

  Every time I look at you I go blind

  Every time I look at you I go blind

  Little child did you know that there`s a light

  And it’s gonna shine right through your eyes

  What do you think that life is like

  Every time I look at you I go blind

  I go blind, I go blind

  Every time I look at you I go blind


It has a catchy beat and at the time I thought it was about a man singing about how looking at the one he loves made him go blind.  I was shocked when I saw the music video for this song, as it showed tanks rolling through countryside’s, armies marching through foreign countries, and young children crying at the unfairness life had brought them.  I later discovered that this group is very involved in being advocates for children in the less developed countries.


What this song describes is a bit like my family’s cat, Lucy. When Lucy naps in the middle of the day, she keeps the light from entering into her eyes and disturbing her sleep by putting her paws over them so she can sleep.  To me this represents the reactions of a lot of people when viewing this type of picture for the second time.  The first time there is shock and a lot of thoughts, possibly commitments to try to do something to change these girls situation.  After time these feelings fade and we move on with our lives forgetting these girls in the picture.  Possibly later when we are confronted by these images again, we are not as shocked and we become like Lucy - we cover our eyes, we change the channel, we put these girls and their lives as far out of our minds as possible.



Mud on our feet:

Brian McConaghy, the founder of Ratanak, wrote these words under The Picture.

I am overwhelmed by the daily hell (a term I do not use lightly) experienced by these children and have no idea how they can survive as long as they do.  Yet, I am stubborn in my belief that here, there can be hope.  I remain confident that the penetrating light of Christ can punch holes even in this darkness.  This is not a time to be passive-- it is a time to roll up our sleeves and climb down into the muck at the bottom of the barrel--just as Christ would do.

  
For some reason, I dislike getting mud on my shoes more than anything. But because this past winter has been so mild, my biggest challenge this year in running down my ravine has not been the cold and snow, but the mud.  The mud stays on my shoes for the whole run, distracting me and making me feel unclean.  But when we involve ourselves in these children’s lives, we have to be willing to get muddy.  Pulling someone out of mud allows some of the mud to attach itself to our lives.







Other images

At this point of the race I see a brilliant white light enter the girls’ room. I see a figure in white bending over to pick up and gently cradle one of these girls and taking her to a place that is safe far from this room.  This image stays with me for quite a while and even though after the 16 km mark a new ache starts in my body, this picture satisfies me that the pain is worth it, that somehow in a way I will never understand, my act of running is making a difference.


Not to be outdone, another presence makes itself known to me.  At the 28 mark there is a cemetery.  I see a sign on the sidewalk with the words 'I see dead runners'.  Although not finding this hilarious, I can see the humour.  Next is a sign warning us to 'avoid looking at the Reaper,' then a man and a woman actually dressed as Grim Reapers with their scythes and shouting out warnings to the runners not to look at them and also warning of upcoming death to the runners.  I was furious and with clenched fists actually ran towards the man and called him an idiot.  At the time, I was thinking of fellow runners who were struggling and knowing how hard it is sometimes to finish a race.  Upon reflection I see where my reaction was much deeper.  Death came about because of Adam’s and Eve`s sin.  Death is a consequence of sin and should not have been part of earth.  Obviously people dressed as the Grim Reaper are not on the side that I fight for.  I think what really set me off is the recognition that just as unnatural death is for us, so is the life forced upon these young girls.  As with Adam and Eve, sin has entered into the lives of these girls and taken away what should be theirs – childhood and innocence – and instead, exposing them to the evil that desires, and then destroys, their young bodies.


But Death and Grim Reaper, your days are numbered.   Earlier in the race at the 20 km mark right before the hills, a man (who would be considered a 'small person') sits by the side of the road with his music blaring - the old Queen song 'We are the Champions.'  The part 'we will we will rock you' blares at me as I approach him.  I am overcome with emotion and high-five him.  I hear a chorus of young children signing at the top of their lungs 'He will He will crush you.'  At first I am thinking of the pedophiles and abusers of these children but then realize that this goes much deeper: it is about the day when Jesus crushes the head of Satan with his heel. 

  Genesis 3:15

  he will crush your head,

  and you will strike his heel.

As I pull into Copps Coliseum and run across the finish line, I think perhaps on May 6 as I run my next marathon in Toronto, I will see the rescue of another little girl much like the one in the picture.

 Larry