A Runner's Toughest Race: "I Could Never Do That!" - Grit & Grace
Amazed, humbled, and overwhelmed.
A quick note before I get into what’s been on my heart lately…
It doesn’t matter how many times I have the opportunity to do this, it always just blows this accidental runner away. Holding my thoughts captive is the toughest race this runner has ever competed in.
Thank you just never seems enough, but it’s what I have, so thank you to all that “ran” with us by praying, encouraging, and supporting us in some way, shape, or form throughout this process – it has blessed and encouraged me more than words can ever express!
It usually takes some time to process. Waking up the morning after race day last month, and feeling the post-half-marathon aches, pains, and soreness, I was keenly aware of how any pain or discomfort I experienced during the training or on race day, let alone the morning after, pales in comparison to the ongoing pain and suffering our friend Richard is going through.
As of this writing, Richard is still fighting on this side of eternity, although we haven’t seen him at church the past few Sundays. We visited with him this past week, and were able to give him the card we received from St. Jude’s Children Hospital because of the donation we were able to make in his honor.
I’ve really been thinking about what makes races, both literal and figurative, so difficult. I mean, sure, the physical component is a huge factor. But the more I train, and the more I run, the more I realize that the battle to be won is fought primarily in between your ears. The runner’s toughest race is the unseen battleground of their thought life.
Keep your eye on the prize.
How do I accomplish that when the prize isn’t something I can see with my eyes?
I mean, sometimes I can see it,
like this medal.
You can see it, touch it,
and feel the weight of it once it’s hanging
around your neck.
Some rewards in life are tangible like that,
and I’m sure we can think of a few examples.
What about those intangible rewards,
though?
How do we keep our eyes on those prizes?
Sure, you can see that goofy grin on my face,
but all that was bubbling inside of me
that led to that,
all the crazy gratitude and sheer joy,
is unseen.
Then, the smile made the unseen seen.
How do we see what we cannot see?
Maybe it should start with a smile.
I could never do that.
I recently stumbled across an Instagram post that really resonated with me and this whole running/fitness enthusiast thing. It wasn’t a recent post for her, but I just happened to scroll down far enough on her page The Ultimate Mom Challenge to find it.
In her post, Celeste Yvonne talks about how funny she finds how many people tell her “I could never do that.”
Whether it’s a race, a career move, a family decision…it really doesn’t matter. When people hear about that hard thing you’ve chosen to do, the usual response is “I could never do that.”
When folks see me after any race (and this one was no exception), and after the standard questions to see how I’m feeling have been asked, it inevitably ends in the same comment – “I could never do that.”
And honestly, I usually tell them “Of course you can!” because come on: unless they are providentially hindered, they most certainly can. They might not want to. But not wanting to and not being able to are two totally different things.
The runner’s toughest race lies in their thought life.
I’m just a gal who decided to try.
I’m a gal who started running in her forties. A gal who didn’t even start exercising consistently until her forties, running or otherwise. I ran my first half-marathon at 43, and my first full marathon at 44.
We really can be our own worst enemies. That’s why I answer “Of course you can.” Because our bodies are capable of some pretty amazing things. I’m living proof!
The half-marathon is a distance of 13.1 miles. During the race, whether it’s this year or any other year, you run across (pun intended) such a varied spectrum of ages and abilities. People in crutches, and people in wheelchairs. Runners that were pushing others in adult-sized strollers. Folks without full movement of their arms or legs. People that were significantly older than I am, and those that were significantly younger.
Deciding to try was the toughest part of this runner’s race.
Can’t do versus don’t want to.
How many things are you saying you can’t do, when in fact you just don’t want to? Because those are two very different things. How we use those statements can make a huge impact on how we tackle the race of life. Words mean something, and how we use these words can make our race tougher than it needs to be.
I get it. There is absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting to run a half-marathon. But when you say you can’t run one, you are just putting a limit on your own capabilities. If you don’t want to do something, just say “I don’t want to do that.” Don’t do that thing you don’t want to do. But don’t say you can’t, because I’m here to remind you that you can do almost anything. Our bodies are fearfully and wonderfully made.
Celeste goes on to share, “And if you truly think you can’t run a race, or you can’t do something else, your greatest enemy is most likely your own mind and your limiting beliefs. Because you are in fact amazing.”
I agree wholeheartedly. Our bodies are capable of doing some pretty incredible things. Let’s give our bodies a chance to show us. Taking control of our thought life helps give our bodies a fighting chance. Holding my thoughts captive has been – and continues to be – this runner’s toughest race.
Thankful for the strength, courage, and resolve that only God can give.
Thankful for the hope that only Christ can give us in the midst of our heartache…how He took on pain and suffering willingly on our behalf, and how He is our example in reaching out to those who find themselves without hope. Our toughest race will never be as tough as what he willingly took on our behalf. That inspires me to keep fighting, and to keep running, even if it is the toughest race I’ll ever run.
“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7
