63.3
83.2
78.6
27.5...and counting.
What are those numbers? Those are the miles that I have run per month over the last five months. That does not include training that took place in April or May in preparation for the Peachtree Road Race we ran in July.
83.2 miles in August alone. The hottest and most humid month of the year, and I ran 83.2 miles.
With a perfectionist personality, it's easy for me to get disillusioned with things very quickly. When I first ran 7, then 9, then 11 miles, I would get overwhelmed with amazement. But as I added mileage, I somehow made the mistake of subtracting the awe of what I was accomplishing. Suddenly 10 miles didn't sound like much anymore, which is crazy. When I stop and really let myself think about it, it absolutely blows my mind.
Never ever in a million years did I think I would do a half marathon. As in, never. And yet just over one week ago, I crossed the finish line having just pounded the pavement with hundreds of other runners for two and a half hours. Woah.
But let me make one thing perfectly clear: I couldn't have done a single step without God's help. Not a step of that race and not a step of the 40+ training runs I trudged through in preparation. With each passing week, my muscles, lungs, and heart grew stronger. What really surprised me was how much my prayer life grew as well. Sure, a lot of time was spent begging Him for oxygen, but a good bit of it was also just talking. Lifting up people whose names came to mind. Thanking Him for the beauty of my surroundings. Praying through situations and decisions, fears and uncertainties. There wasn't a run I finished where I didn't whisper a prayer of "Thank You, Jesus, for the strength to do that" and mean it with every exhausted fiber of my being.
I am proud, y'all. And I think rightly so. I imagine that running a half marathon will be one of my top ten biggest personal accomplishments of my lifetime. But I can't claim the victory as my own. It was only because of the Lord's strength and grace that I made it. As I started talking to God out loud between miles 11 and 13 of the race last weekend (yes, literally out loud) and begging Him to carry me through, I realized more than ever that He had been with me every single stride of every single run.
When I first began drafting this post in my head, I imagined it as a note to my kids about their ability to do anything they put their minds to. My basis would be not only about the strength of the human will and determination, but also because they had a bit of me in them. The much, much more important reason they can, however, is because of the same reason I was able to reach this goal: We can do all things through Him who gives us strength. (Phil. 4:13) That doesn't mean it'll be easy or without pain. Trust me, training was neither. But, it can be done. With His strength, it is possible. They may have a bit of their Mama's drive in their blood, but if they have God in their heart as I pray they will, they can move mountains.
So, Luke and Audrey, when I'm old (and I do NOT mean 40) and can't walk very well, remember that your Mama once ran a half marathon. Be proud of me for that, but remember Who I give all the credit to. Make sure you're doing the same in your own lives.
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