Sunday, July 21, 2013

Running the Race

Sunday, July 21st, 2013

My dearest brother,

Well… I did it. I ran a half marathon this week. It has been on my goal sheet since I had Nathan over two years ago and started to get into shape. And I did it.

The funny thing about it is though… I didn’t come out of it feeling the immense sense of accomplishment that I was expecting. When I ran my first 5k and 10k I was elated and overwhelmed at what I had achieved. The half marathon wasn’t like that for me.

I consider this race the hardest thing that I have ever done – and I have given birth twice. We didn’t take into account how different running at night, in the dark, would be. Maybe on a regular course or on a regular road it wouldn’t have been such a big deal. The Legacy Parkway is a lovely place to run during the day. The first six miles were not bad; there were people around, you had the benefit of the adrenaline from the beginning of the race, and there were houses and bridges and other various landmarks. The water stations were situated right beneath bridges so they were lit up and there were people there to really cheer you on.

After that things got really hard. The parkway was dark and the landmarks were gone. People started to really spread out and so you were basically running alone. Mile after mile of nothing but endless road and trees, you were left with the thought that the road spread out eternally before you and at any second someone was going to jump out of the trees and snatch you away. There were mile markers on the road but they didn’t coincide with the water stations so you were never quite sure how far you had gone and no matter how many people you asked, no one seemed to know where you were.  The water stations were not lit up and served as no kind of landmark as you couldn’t see them until you were there. Only one water station had ice: the rest of the stations had lukewarm water that barely took the edge off of your thirst. And you just kept running and running and running thinking that, surely, one day you would reach the end.

It was a mental battle like I have never fought before. I wanted so badly to give up. I knew that if Jake had come to cheer me on during the run I may not have been able to tell him to leave me as I pressed on. The thought that kept me going was that he was waiting for me at the end. I just kept thinking, “Six more miles until I can see Jake. Five more miles… Four… Three…”

Our family stayed up to hear when I had finished and sent me texts and calls congratulating me on my accomplishment. But you know what, Jer? I don’t feel like I accomplished something great. I wanted to run that race to prove to myself that I could do anything that I set my mind to – and I did it. I crossed that finish line in 2 hours 15 minutes. I was 63rd overall and 11th for women my age. By all rights, I did very well on that race and I should feel accomplished.

But something about that race picked at me inside. It was so hard and so exhausting. I didn’t feel like I conquered my mountain. I felt like I clawed, crawled, and littered the ground with my sweat and tears as I fought my way to the top. And I arrived at the top exhausted, battered, and bruised.

Maybe that, in and of itself, is more of an accomplishment than if I had crossed the finish line with ease and merriment. Many times, I believe, we back down from things and give up or give in when things get hard. I don’t think that the Lord expects us to cross the finish line of life in pristine and unhindered condition. Many, if not all, of us will arrive exhausted, battered, and bruised. But at the end when we look back at what we have accomplished I don’t believe that we will wish that things had been different. I believe that we will be grateful for our experiences and for what they taught us and what they helped us to become.

This race made me into something greater than I was before. I was pushed to my physical and mental limit because of the battle that was raging within me to give up when I wanted to push on. But I didn’t give up. I ran and walked and hobbled and dragged my exhausted body to the finish line of that race. And in the process I proved to myself what I tell myself all the time:

“I can be my very best self; I can do hard things.”

We can do hard things. We have so much potential within us for greatness. That is a level of greatness that, sometimes, only the Lord can see. But he will lead us in the paths that we must walk to become what he had in mind for us. Maybe at the end we will arrive smiling and energized, ready for the next step. But maybe at the end we will arrive winded, out of breath, with the ability to simply tell the Lord, “I finished the course thou sent me to run.”

I am grateful for this experience and for what it has taught me. It was not what I expected it to be but, I believe, it was what I needed to learn and to see in my life at this time. I am grateful to the Lord for blessing me with greater wisdom and understanding than I had before.

I love you, dear brother. Know that we are well and that we love you and pray for you daily. Continue to run the race. Things will get hard and you will wonder where the end is sometimes, but the Lord will sustain you and carry you through. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it.

All my love,

Shayla

No comments: