It's a marathon, not a sprint

We hear this all the time. We hear this in relation to life. We hear this in relation to our spiritual walk. You can really apply this saying to almost anything and have it make sense. But for those of us who have actually run a marathon... it takes on a whole new meaning.

As many of you may know, I ran the Indianapolis marathon on Saturday. I have been training since the beginning of July with high hopes to qualify for the Boston Marathon in April of 2022. I can't even tell you how many hours went into my training. At the height of it all, I was running almost 60 miles a week. I honestly don't know how people do this when they have kids! Or how people do even more intense training and hit 70, 80, 90, or even 100+ miles in a week. In any case, it takes grit, determination, motivation, and a level of mental toughness I rarely tap into outside of training. It can be long and grueling. And some days, all you want to do is go for a short sprint and call it quits. But that's not how it works.

The final weeks and days leading up to race day, I was a nervous wreck. Anxious, fidgety, unfocused. All I could do was think about the race, and be terrified. I had worked so hard. I had trained so hard. Gosh darnit, I wanted to qualify for Boston! My husband and some of my closest friends had told me from the beginning that I was totally capable of qualifying. But I constantly had my doubts. Race morning came, and things went by way too fast. I didn't even stretch before the race (which is terrible! And trust me, my body felt that during the race lol) because I simply ran out of time. But something pretty incredible happened once I started... my training kicked in and took over. It was mile 10 before I felt any ache or pain, and the first one dissipated fairly quickly. Things didn't start feeling hard until even later. I spent time in prayer, time thanking God, time reminding myself to just run the mile I was in, and time thinking about all of those who had encouraged me along this journey and believed in me and were praying for me even as I was racing. But come miles 22, 23... I was in a tough space. I was struggling. I had sped up after mile 18, and by 22 I had slowed back down. I even considered walking for a bit. But I knew if I walked, I would have a hard time running again. And while any forward motion is progress, walking is not what I had trained for. I pushed through, and just focused on the current mile. 23 passed. Then 24. Only 2 miles left. By the time I hit 25, I felt like collapsing. But I pushed through. 26 passed. Less than a quarter mile left. I high-tailed it to the finish, and beat my goal. I finished in 3:18:36. Fast enough to qualify for Boston by a 11:24 margin. My incredible friends were waiting for me at the finish with big hugs. I cried.

There's something to be said about the mental toughness it takes to complete a race like that. 26.2 miles... that's crazy. And yet, it's such an incredible metaphor for life. That's why we compare life to a race; that's why Scripture compares our spiritual walk to a race. We must be focused, we must train, we must be determined. And when we finish this race, we have something even more incredible waiting for us than my two friends at the finish (as awesome and amazing as they are). I pray that I run this race well; that I not falter when things get tough. When I hit the aches and pains in life, or the miles 22 and 23 that make me want to quit, I pray I have the strength in Christ to keep pushing on; to run the race He has set out for me, because my eyes are fixed on Him. And all the while, I am so thankful for those that He has with me in this race to help spur me on. I pray I am as much as an encouragement to them as they are to me. And I pray you run your race well, too.

P.S. Don't mind the watermarks on all my race photos :)