1,000 Miles

But I would walk 500 miles

And I would walk 500 more

Just to be the man who walked 1,000 miles 

To fall down at your door

I've had these lyrics by The Proclaimers stuck in my head for weeks ever since I noticed my Nike running app ticking closer to 1,000 miles on its odometer.  

I am admittedly proud to say that, after nearly two years, I achieved that benchmark yesterday:

1,000 miles in 202 runs over the course of two years.  A THOUSAND MILES.  And that does not include the 100 or so I've probably logged on treadmills or completed untracked.  

That's an average of 41.7 miles per month, or 9.6 miles per week, of running.  My biggest month was 83.2 and my smallest was a lowly 9.1 (February of this year, actually.)   But you know what?  Every month had a number in it.  All 24 of them.   

Of course I didn't just begin running two years ago.  I have run off and on since high school, doing a dozen or more 5Ks and a couple of 10Ks through the years.  But this is certainly the most consistently committed I've ever been to the sport.

Oh, don't get me wrong.  I'm not an expert.  Those miles were S-L-O-W and often ugly.  And I'd say that out of those 202 runs, I probably really only felt like doing about 1/4 of them.  Maybe not even that many.  The vast majority of them were run at least partially in the dark early morning hours.  Many were freezing (or below), many were hot and humid, and some left me soaking wet with rain or snow.  Some were while pushing a jogging stroller full of a heavy, whiney child.  There was soreness and dehydration to contend with and, as all runners know, the mental hurdles were a beast.  Those are always far worse than the physical struggles.  

But here's another secret:  When I finished each run, I never once regretted going.  Not a single time did I think, "I really wish I hadn't run today."  Not EVER.

There wasn't any fanfare when my app rolled over that mark yesterday.  The monumental mile happened at dawn on my neighborhood streets, like most of the 999 miles before it.  It was quite fitting, actually.  Because here's what it confirmed for me:  Most of the greatest successes in life happen at a painstakingly slow pace, over a long period of time, without a ticker tape parade for every little victory.  It's showing up and doing your best to put one foot in front of the other over and over and OVER again even when you don't feel like it.  

Actually, especially when you don't feel like it.  (See also: Relationships, parenting, marriage, career, homemaking, etc.)  I guess you could say it's like running with endurance the race that is set before you.  (Hebrews 12:1)

Thank you, Lord, for the health and strength to have accomplished this.  I so enjoyed our talks during a great many of those miles.  Sorry for huffing and puffing so much.  

Here's to another 1,000.  Y'all let me know if you want to go out for a jog.