Enjoy Your Schadenfreude

I'm thinking about failure.

Out and out failure.

And (knock on wood) it hasn't happened to me much in my life. I made All-Stars in baseball (back before there was something called "select" ball/travel teams) more often than not. I finished third in the nation in a Putt-Putt tournament (No kidding...mini-golf has a serious side, and we went to Memphis to play in the nationals. I actually led after the first three rounds.) I was president of my senior class. I graduated from college and grad school.

Sure, I failed a class in college once. But, seriously, it was math, the guy was from Korea and actually had a translator in class, and I didn't know the rules to "drop & add" despite signing the paper saying I read and understood the Student Handbook.

I had a promising dating relationship go south that I didn't understand the reasons "why" but I'm not sure that was a failure. She kept saying I didn't do anything wrong. She was the type of person that wouldn't say that just to make you feel better, either. We were just young and timing was bad. I think she'd agree.

I couldn't play college baseball, but that wasn't necessarily a failure. There were guys named Bo Jackson and Frank Thomas on my university's baseball team...so I don't view heading to the fraternity softball league any great shame there, either.

And yes, I have those moments of self-doubt where I feel like a failure as a husband...

...or a father...

...or a pastor.

But those usually are fleeting moments where you get tunnel-visioned about a particular incident. They tend to fade when you step back and glance at the forest instead of whatever the particular tree is.

Then...I discovered an area of true failure in my life:

Health.

I've been blessed with good genetic health. I don't miss work much and generally have lots of energy to do lock-ins or have early-morning coffee with that kid after Bible study conversations ended after 10PM.

But I fail miserably--and have for as long as I can remember--at good eating habits and consistent exercise (although exercise in high school was no problem).

I think it started not long after my dad died and we went into survival mode as a family. My mom went back to grad school at nights so my sister and I subsisted on Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, lime green kool-aid, and various soups. My personal favorite as a 13-year-old chef was making hot dogs in the microwave, wrapping them in a slice of bread with cheese and drinking sweet tea with them.

College life was no different. Once I won a dare that I couldn't eat at McDonald's every day for a month. Fraternity house food didn't help much. Calling Tiger Pies and ordering (and eating) a 12-inch sausage/pepperoni pizza and two cans of Coke at midnight was somewhat normal. I think if you get a Christmas card from the local McDonald's thanking you for your patronage it might be a sign you aren't eating well.

Life in youth ministry makes diet interesting. You meet in fast-food restaurants. You drink lots of coffee all day. You eat loads of pizza after you feed the masses (and take whatever leftovers home). You eat camp food. You have red meat & movie nights with your guys. You stay up late. You get up early. You drink more and more coffee.

And, I tell myself I have to exercise. So, I do. I set goals. I weigh in. I go great for a month or two or three. Three years ago I even started training for a marathon and got up to my 18-mile runs...then a series of nagging injuries derailed that attempt. My good friend Katherine wants me to run a local half-marathon with her and some friends this December, but I'm having trouble with the motivation. The health club membership goes in spurts...but we don't want to let it go because we got in at a great price and would like to keep it. But, inconsistency rules the day there...and it's down to nothing at this point, unless you count the stairs at work.

So, I think that's a big failure in my life. One that I'm sure will reap difficulty down the road...

...but I can't seem to get over it. Any suggestions?