I realize the majority of what I’ve been writing and posting about lately has dealt with running, and training, and endurance, and rest, and change… And a little voice inside me is telling me that no one is wanting to read any more of my thoughts on any of that crazy stuff… But you know what, I don’t actually think there are many people even reading this blog {wink}, so to worry about what the people who aren’t even reading this are going to think, is quite absurd really now isn’t it?!?
So I shall tell you about this little experience I had this morning.
This morning was a long run training day for my half marathon training. The official training schedule said 8 miles, but months ago I had already changed it to say 13.1 miles, due to the fact that the scheduled 13.1 miles was going to land next weekend - the day of my son’s college graduation or the day we head out early on a family vacation (as in ALL my family - parents, brother, kiddos all…). Long ago I decide to skip the 8, move up the 13.1 and leave vacation week open to whatever I’m simply able to get in, which also leaves it open to doing nothing at all if I so chose…
And then one morning, about a month ago, I was at the lake putting in an early before dawn run. It was an interval day, a mix of hard running and walking. And I heard this quiet whisper, simply asking the question “I wonder if I could accomplish completing a full marathon distance if I chose to do it in intervals. Run a mile, walk a mile, and try go 26.2 miles. Of course it wouldn't really count because I'd be walking half of it... but... I wonder...” It was a distinct and defining moment, and I can still vividly see and remember where I was when this thought came to me, and I crinkled my nose a little and inwardly groaned, as I also knew that this was clearly a whisper from God… Because that is just how He works in my life sometimes… I’ve learned it is often easiest to just answer immediately instead of ignoring and fighting Him off…
I have always struggled with walking when it comes to running… it slows me down, it makes me feel like I’m a failure, like I’m not a real runner. Of course all of that is horse malarkey, but it’s taken me until I was forty-two years old to finally comes to grips with the reality of walking and intervals, and their necessity in growth and success when it comes to running, at least for me. This is the first year I have openly allowed myself the grace to walk and taken the failure label off it. Adding in the walking and interval training (and the mental acceptance of it all) has actually allowed me to excel and achieve far greater, faster, longer distances than I ever imagined. But I am still what I would consider on the non-friend level mentally with the concept of walking and intervals.
God has granted me a season of returned health right now, and I am beyond grateful. God has granted me a hard life journey filled with some pain and loss… But He has also granted me so much greatness and goodness, so many vibrant colored gifts, possibilities, and accomplishments, and I am just fervently working on focusing on those good things instead of overshadowing them with the bad, the feel sorry for me’s, the areas that aren’t perfect, aren’t ideal, aren’t what I had planned.
I heard the whisper, and the seed was planted. I thought about it, I thought about it a lot. I got my calculator out and did all sorts of number variables with possible time splits, I even pulled up a Minnesota map and considered possible route options. And then I mentioned it out loud to one person, my “one person” - the one who believes in me and encourages me and whooo-hooo’s me when I conquer and whoooo-hooo’s me even when I fail. I wanted her to tell me I was absolutely nuts in the head and to kick that idea to the curb immediately. She said I was absolutely nuts… but also said to go for it. I then mentioned it to my husband, he also said I was absolutely nuts. So I decided to remain silent about this idea, this challenge, this slowly growing venture in my mind.
But in my silence, I did actually plan to attempt it. I set a date. I arranged childcare and a day entirely to myself at the lake. I set the route, which would bring me back to the campground entrance three different times in case I would need to quit early, in case I wouldn’t be able to do it… And I set four different level of accomplishment goals. 13.1 miles (my scheduled long run - and the distance of a half marathon). 15.5 miles (the distance of a 25K). 20 miles (cuz that’s just a crazy long distance). And… the entire 26.2 (the distance of a full marathon).
I do not consider myself a runner. I do not consider myself an athlete. I should not be even contemplating any of this. Period.
I had no idea what to expect, I had no expectations going in to it. I’d been diligently training to run the distance of a half marathon, but I had never run five steps beyond that amazing 13.1 distance. I’d been struggling with the acceptance of walking and interval training, and I knew it would be a challenge for me to allow myself to, in fact, require myself to walk every other mile. If I let my mind override my body I would not have the endurance to go that long…
I had no idea if I could honestly make it that far, part of me wondered if “just maybe” I actually could… but I was also fairly certain 26.2 was well beyond anything my mind and body could accomplish together.
I was fairly certain that God was merely asking me to try this, so I actually would fail. That I would DNF (Did Not Finish in race terms), that I wouldn’t accomplish it this time, that I wouldn’t arrive at the final destination before having to allow myself to quit. I wondered how I would convince myself to be done before the finish, I wondered if it would be my mind or my body that would finally give way to defeat… I wondered how I would process that ~ and convince myself that I wasn’t actually a failure if I couldn’t accomplish an entire full marathon distance. I wondered what lesson God wanted me to grasp and grow from through all of this craziness.
So I shall tell you about this little experience I had this morning.
This morning was a long run training day for my half marathon training. The official training schedule said 8 miles, but months ago I had already changed it to say 13.1 miles, due to the fact that the scheduled 13.1 miles was going to land next weekend - the day of my son’s college graduation or the day we head out early on a family vacation (as in ALL my family - parents, brother, kiddos all…). Long ago I decide to skip the 8, move up the 13.1 and leave vacation week open to whatever I’m simply able to get in, which also leaves it open to doing nothing at all if I so chose…
And then one morning, about a month ago, I was at the lake putting in an early before dawn run. It was an interval day, a mix of hard running and walking. And I heard this quiet whisper, simply asking the question “I wonder if I could accomplish completing a full marathon distance if I chose to do it in intervals. Run a mile, walk a mile, and try go 26.2 miles. Of course it wouldn't really count because I'd be walking half of it... but... I wonder...” It was a distinct and defining moment, and I can still vividly see and remember where I was when this thought came to me, and I crinkled my nose a little and inwardly groaned, as I also knew that this was clearly a whisper from God… Because that is just how He works in my life sometimes… I’ve learned it is often easiest to just answer immediately instead of ignoring and fighting Him off…
I have always struggled with walking when it comes to running… it slows me down, it makes me feel like I’m a failure, like I’m not a real runner. Of course all of that is horse malarkey, but it’s taken me until I was forty-two years old to finally comes to grips with the reality of walking and intervals, and their necessity in growth and success when it comes to running, at least for me. This is the first year I have openly allowed myself the grace to walk and taken the failure label off it. Adding in the walking and interval training (and the mental acceptance of it all) has actually allowed me to excel and achieve far greater, faster, longer distances than I ever imagined. But I am still what I would consider on the non-friend level mentally with the concept of walking and intervals.
God has granted me a season of returned health right now, and I am beyond grateful. God has granted me a hard life journey filled with some pain and loss… But He has also granted me so much greatness and goodness, so many vibrant colored gifts, possibilities, and accomplishments, and I am just fervently working on focusing on those good things instead of overshadowing them with the bad, the feel sorry for me’s, the areas that aren’t perfect, aren’t ideal, aren’t what I had planned.
I heard the whisper, and the seed was planted. I thought about it, I thought about it a lot. I got my calculator out and did all sorts of number variables with possible time splits, I even pulled up a Minnesota map and considered possible route options. And then I mentioned it out loud to one person, my “one person” - the one who believes in me and encourages me and whooo-hooo’s me when I conquer and whoooo-hooo’s me even when I fail. I wanted her to tell me I was absolutely nuts in the head and to kick that idea to the curb immediately. She said I was absolutely nuts… but also said to go for it. I then mentioned it to my husband, he also said I was absolutely nuts. So I decided to remain silent about this idea, this challenge, this slowly growing venture in my mind.
But in my silence, I did actually plan to attempt it. I set a date. I arranged childcare and a day entirely to myself at the lake. I set the route, which would bring me back to the campground entrance three different times in case I would need to quit early, in case I wouldn’t be able to do it… And I set four different level of accomplishment goals. 13.1 miles (my scheduled long run - and the distance of a half marathon). 15.5 miles (the distance of a 25K). 20 miles (cuz that’s just a crazy long distance). And… the entire 26.2 (the distance of a full marathon).
I do not consider myself a runner. I do not consider myself an athlete. I should not be even contemplating any of this. Period.
I had no idea what to expect, I had no expectations going in to it. I’d been diligently training to run the distance of a half marathon, but I had never run five steps beyond that amazing 13.1 distance. I’d been struggling with the acceptance of walking and interval training, and I knew it would be a challenge for me to allow myself to, in fact, require myself to walk every other mile. If I let my mind override my body I would not have the endurance to go that long…
I had no idea if I could honestly make it that far, part of me wondered if “just maybe” I actually could… but I was also fairly certain 26.2 was well beyond anything my mind and body could accomplish together.
I was fairly certain that God was merely asking me to try this, so I actually would fail. That I would DNF (Did Not Finish in race terms), that I wouldn’t accomplish it this time, that I wouldn’t arrive at the final destination before having to allow myself to quit. I wondered how I would convince myself to be done before the finish, I wondered if it would be my mind or my body that would finally give way to defeat… I wondered how I would process that ~ and convince myself that I wasn’t actually a failure if I couldn’t accomplish an entire full marathon distance. I wondered what lesson God wanted me to grasp and grow from through all of this craziness.
The week arrived and I was physically and mentally exhausted. I was anxious and nervous, and also oddly calm. I drove my route the evening before, and had myself convinced that I was not going to be able to do the whole thing, and I continued to assure myself that this would be ok… I had also somehow convinced myself to change the intervals to a run 3 miles / walk 1 mile ratio, at least for the first 13.1 miles. Heavens to Betsy I hate that about myself.
And then the alarm was going off this morning, and it was time.
I laced up my shoes, got the apps and garmin watch going, dropped off a water bottle and bucket of all things I might possibly need (banana, granola bars, chap stick, etc)… and was officially off and running.
It was long, it was hard. The weather was cool and the wind was nearly nonexistent, I could not have ordered a more perfect morning. I watched the sun rise, I then watched the sun blaze off the wind turbines and tall corn stalks. I saw the deer running in front of me… and I made it to goal one… 13.1 miles. I continued on and made it to goal two… 25K. I continued on and made it to goal three… 20 miles. And then a thick fog rolled in and I couldn’t see any of my landmarks in front or around me, and I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere, and it was all getting so so hard.
But I continued on… I continued through the pain, I continued through the intense mind games, and I continued on through the blazing sun that suddenly vaporized that thick fog and left a hot blanket on my head and shoulders as my feet and hips and calved screamed at me to just stop… But I didn’t… even through Lord knows I wanted to.
Six miles to go... Five miles to go… Four miles to go… I was back at the campground entrance at this point, and it took every ounce in me to continue on. Three miles to go… two miles to go… and then there I was, back on the hot black asphalt with the end in sight.
At mile 25.75 I randomly glanced down… and there was a PENNY, on the road, in the middle of nowhere. This was not random, oh no sir! I am a firm believer in Pennies From Heaven - and I KNOW that penny was our little Faith MaryJo saying - “Mom, you got this, finish strong!”
I bent down, every muscle screaming at me, and I picked up that penny, looked to Heaven and said “Thank you Lord - this is exactly what I needed right here, right now… Let’s finish this - bring me in… bring me in…” And He did. And He did.
It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t easy, but my tired feet and my exhausted body crossed that elusive 26.2 mile mark and Jesus and our little Faith I am sure were leaping for joy from above watching me accomplish this incredibly personal feat. There was no finish line crowd of onlookers and official race time clocks, there was no race tshirts, no corporate sponsor booths wanting to pedal their goods, there was no water tables and towels waiting at the finish line. It was just me and God. Interesting enough, I finished at almost exactly the same exact place I finished my 13.1 Half Marathon in May. It was an entirely different distance and route… and yet, now I have a double special spot at the little mailbox in the middle of nowhere, on that great road to somewhere…
I type this now with tears streaming down my cheeks… knowing now more than ever that God took that one thing I so desperately wanted and longed for for so very many many years, that tiny baby, that tiny life, and in the taking of all of those hopes and dreams… in all the sorrow and loss of all that… And He in turn extended me His hands, looked me in the eyes, and merely said, “Trust me… I know what I’m doing, even though it’s hard. Follow me… and I will heal you for a new season, and I will grant you a new path on your journey to follow. I will make you strong, and bring you so much farther than you can ever dream of or imagine on your own. Love me… and I will continue to faithfully provide for you, bless you, and love you for all that I created you to be. Embrace me… and I will show you bounty and goodness beyond what you could possibly imagine.”
God may have taken away and caused great hardship and difficulty, for reasons I will never fathom or understand… but in that loss, I am now also clearly starting to see how much He is giving back to me… once I merely allowed myself to stop being so blinded by the pain and hurt, and allowing myself to see beyond all of that dark, to the good and the grace.
I have no doubt that the crazy whisper to attempt a 26.2 marathon distance, with allowable walking and running intervals, and the openness that it may not even be achievable today, and that I more than likely would not be able to finish but that would not make me a failure, is clearly a whisper I know that was from the Lord. It was a challenge, it was a test, it was an opportunity for Him to show me just how far I have come since the loss of Faith.
Life is worth seeking, life is worth living, and God is so very very good, if we let ourselves really see Him.
I’m not sure if I’m actually an “official” marathon runner now or not, since I wasn’t at an “actual” marathon event, I didn’t have a chipped bib and number, I didn’t have anyone cheering me on along the sidelines (heck there was only five total people that even knew I was going to attempt this), and I did in fact have to walk small portions of it (although much less than I had originally planned).
Ok technically, I am not a “real” marathon runner, I know this… but, for a forty-two year old non-running, non-athletic mom with bunions, bad feet, and cellulite… I think I’m going to personally give myself the credit for in fact running, and completing, a full marathon today.
26.2 miles… who knew.
And then the alarm was going off this morning, and it was time.
I laced up my shoes, got the apps and garmin watch going, dropped off a water bottle and bucket of all things I might possibly need (banana, granola bars, chap stick, etc)… and was officially off and running.
It was long, it was hard. The weather was cool and the wind was nearly nonexistent, I could not have ordered a more perfect morning. I watched the sun rise, I then watched the sun blaze off the wind turbines and tall corn stalks. I saw the deer running in front of me… and I made it to goal one… 13.1 miles. I continued on and made it to goal two… 25K. I continued on and made it to goal three… 20 miles. And then a thick fog rolled in and I couldn’t see any of my landmarks in front or around me, and I felt like I wasn’t getting anywhere, and it was all getting so so hard.
But I continued on… I continued through the pain, I continued through the intense mind games, and I continued on through the blazing sun that suddenly vaporized that thick fog and left a hot blanket on my head and shoulders as my feet and hips and calved screamed at me to just stop… But I didn’t… even through Lord knows I wanted to.
Six miles to go... Five miles to go… Four miles to go… I was back at the campground entrance at this point, and it took every ounce in me to continue on. Three miles to go… two miles to go… and then there I was, back on the hot black asphalt with the end in sight.
At mile 25.75 I randomly glanced down… and there was a PENNY, on the road, in the middle of nowhere. This was not random, oh no sir! I am a firm believer in Pennies From Heaven - and I KNOW that penny was our little Faith MaryJo saying - “Mom, you got this, finish strong!”
I bent down, every muscle screaming at me, and I picked up that penny, looked to Heaven and said “Thank you Lord - this is exactly what I needed right here, right now… Let’s finish this - bring me in… bring me in…” And He did. And He did.
It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t easy, but my tired feet and my exhausted body crossed that elusive 26.2 mile mark and Jesus and our little Faith I am sure were leaping for joy from above watching me accomplish this incredibly personal feat. There was no finish line crowd of onlookers and official race time clocks, there was no race tshirts, no corporate sponsor booths wanting to pedal their goods, there was no water tables and towels waiting at the finish line. It was just me and God. Interesting enough, I finished at almost exactly the same exact place I finished my 13.1 Half Marathon in May. It was an entirely different distance and route… and yet, now I have a double special spot at the little mailbox in the middle of nowhere, on that great road to somewhere…
I type this now with tears streaming down my cheeks… knowing now more than ever that God took that one thing I so desperately wanted and longed for for so very many many years, that tiny baby, that tiny life, and in the taking of all of those hopes and dreams… in all the sorrow and loss of all that… And He in turn extended me His hands, looked me in the eyes, and merely said, “Trust me… I know what I’m doing, even though it’s hard. Follow me… and I will heal you for a new season, and I will grant you a new path on your journey to follow. I will make you strong, and bring you so much farther than you can ever dream of or imagine on your own. Love me… and I will continue to faithfully provide for you, bless you, and love you for all that I created you to be. Embrace me… and I will show you bounty and goodness beyond what you could possibly imagine.”
God may have taken away and caused great hardship and difficulty, for reasons I will never fathom or understand… but in that loss, I am now also clearly starting to see how much He is giving back to me… once I merely allowed myself to stop being so blinded by the pain and hurt, and allowing myself to see beyond all of that dark, to the good and the grace.
I have no doubt that the crazy whisper to attempt a 26.2 marathon distance, with allowable walking and running intervals, and the openness that it may not even be achievable today, and that I more than likely would not be able to finish but that would not make me a failure, is clearly a whisper I know that was from the Lord. It was a challenge, it was a test, it was an opportunity for Him to show me just how far I have come since the loss of Faith.
Life is worth seeking, life is worth living, and God is so very very good, if we let ourselves really see Him.
I’m not sure if I’m actually an “official” marathon runner now or not, since I wasn’t at an “actual” marathon event, I didn’t have a chipped bib and number, I didn’t have anyone cheering me on along the sidelines (heck there was only five total people that even knew I was going to attempt this), and I did in fact have to walk small portions of it (although much less than I had originally planned).
Ok technically, I am not a “real” marathon runner, I know this… but, for a forty-two year old non-running, non-athletic mom with bunions, bad feet, and cellulite… I think I’m going to personally give myself the credit for in fact running, and completing, a full marathon today.
26.2 miles… who knew.
You amaze me! A huge congrats to you for listening to that "whisper"! You have every reason to be proud of yourself!
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