With...Ted

The strapping young lad standing with me in this picture is my dear friend, Ted Hamilton. I met Ted in the early 00's while living and working in Pittsburgh. Ted was a student @ Pitt. Later, he became campus minister at Pitt & CMU for Christian Student Fellowship.

Ted, along with our friend Greg Voss, shared countless hours sipping coffee, praying, singing, dreaming, trying to lead a ministry together. We debated, theorized, planned. And we lived. Our lives were about far more than what happened 'at' church. We ate, played, cried and laughed together.

I remember Ted & Kelly earnestly seeking God together as they courted for many months before their wedding; the hours of research Ted put into picking out just the right engagement ring. The beautifully romantic proposal.

As Denise and I met with Ted & Kelly for premarital counseling, our time often was as much about sharing a meal and sharing the stories of our lives as anything else. They were giddy and we were thrilled for them. Their wedding in June 2005 was the last real 'New Hope' event we did together, and it was a joy to be there.

As you can see in this picture,  taken moments after we finished the Pittsburgh Marathon last May, Ted is in far better condition than I.  Hearing that, he would likely smile and shake his head. He is too modest.

The winter of 2004-05 was not a particularly uplifting time in my life. I'll not bore you with the details. I will, though, say that Ted, along with a handful of other people, had a knack for speaking joy into life. Numerous times he'd invite me to go for a run during break in the work day. I'd agree, glad for the chance to get out from under my desk. We'd start off down Fifth Avenue at a pace we both knew I could never maintain; Ted talking, me nodding.  I would do well to mention that Ted has an enormous vocabulary with enormouser words. Sometimes he would casually include words that I'd have to make a mental note to look up when I was back in the office.

We'd cut over to Carnegie Mellon's football stadium and run laps around the track, usually around 8-10. Two milesish. Then head back to the office. Maybe 4.5 miles total.

Running those laps was a blast. Ted would get about six steps in front of me and run about 3/4 of each lap  with his head turned to the side so he could make eye contact. I'd try to speed up and run next to him. He'd speed up making that impossible. Did I mention that he was a young, smart aleck? :) I loved the challenge, and couldn't help thinking there was more to it than running. I was being encouraged to do what I said, to walk my talk. I liked to talk about running. So run. I liked to talk about living the love of Jesus. So live it.

We discussed a wide variety of topics. None of which are important now. What was important was that we both needed that. To get out of the office. Our minds off our fears of inadequacy. Our lungs out of the stuffy 'air' in that building. Stretch our legs. Be reminded that we were ALIVE and that life is good.

At some point we decided to run the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure, held annually on Mother's Day in Pittsburgh.  It's a challenging 5K course mostly through Frick Park. I'd run it in 2003 in memory of my Aunt Jane, recording a depressing 26:41 and was hoping to take at least two minutes off my time. Ted said he just wanted to finish. I laughed. He very likely could have challenged his age group. Instead, he challenged me.

The race was a mixed experience for me. At times I wanted to kill Ted for the pace he was setting. Problem was, I couldn't catch him. He was always about ten feet in front of me, frequently turning to urge me on. I'd accelerate. So would he. I'd curse him. In the end, Ted had pushed me to the best 5K I ever ran (or ever will, because I don't run them anymore); 24:22 - a 7:49/minute pace. I was overjoyed.

Last year, when my partner for the Pittsburgh Marathon was unable to join me, Denise suggested I invite Ted. Great idea!!! He agreed. We talked off and on about our training progress, then met in Pittsburgh the weekend of the race.

What an amazing time we had! Relationships that had been left a bit awkward six years earlier picked up the way you'd hope by people who realize that we'd all been way too young to know what we were doing, that God had healed us, and we were moving on happily with our lives. We ate at some of favorite old haunts. We tossed a frisbee in the park and caught up with each other.

The race? A 26.2 mile version of the Race for the Cure. Ted running a bit in front, frequently turning to urge me on. I'd hoped to finish in 4:00:00 and we managed to just do it. It was grueling at times - crossing the Birmingham Bridge and tromping up Forbes Ave into Oakland. The last 2 miles when my feet that make pancakes look like Pikes Peak were throbbing. But, I was not about to quit on Ted. I'd done that once before, moving back to Kentucky.

Along the way - more talking, reminiscing about things we'd done here or there. A particularly special moment was running near Ted & Kelly's old apartment, recalling the time shortly after they'd wed and our family joined them for a massive meal of ribs. They'd been so excited to host us in their home, and we were just as excited to be there.

More important than any of the running that morning were the people involved. I am so grateful for Ted; not just the way he challenged me to do my best when I ran; but that awesome, honest, infuriating smile that egged me on, and still does, to do my best when I live.