Enter: running. Keep in mind that by running I really mean jogging just fast enough that I'm not walking. This girl isn't going to win any prizes for speed in her lifetime. ;)
A few months ago, I decided that I needed to set a reachable goal that would be challenging but doable. In this life that sometimes feels so out of my control, I needed something tangible and measurable that I could accomplish simply by gritting my teeth and going for it. Something that, when all was said and done, I could grab on to and say that I had done what I set out to do. So, I boldly announced to my family that I was going to train for and run a 5K on Thanksgiving Day (the Turkey Trot). I ambitiously set out the first day to see what my lack of fitness level was so that I could chart my progress and know my starting point. I was on fire for my new goal!
I started my very first jog with the intention of making it a mile. I had been working out at the gym and doing things that I hoped would make a difference. Immediately, I hit my first obstacle. After only 2/10 of a mile my asthma flared and I was huffing and puffing. My heart rate was through the roof, and I had only just started. My goal of 3 miles felt so overwhelming and so impossible. I felt like everyone else must be so much better at this than I was, and I was certain that even intense training would not help me reach the finish line. As quickly as I had begun, I became overwhelmingly discouraged. My inner voice was mocking me "What made you think YOU could be a runner? You will fail at this like you have failed at so many other things in the past. Just quit." Thankfully, the voices of my husband and children chimed in just in time. "Great job! That's 2/10 farther than you had run before! You got this and we will help you!" Frustrated and tearful, I walked until my breathing was more normal. Then, determined, I attempted jogging again for 1/10 of a mile. Then I walked. Then I jogged. Repeat. That first workout totaled two miles of mostly walking with a little "wogging" (jogging at the speed of a faster walk) thrown in. But I did it, no matter how pathetic it was.
A day or two later, I tried again. This time my first attempt was 4/10 of a mile. Better, but still definitely not what I wanted. I got a little farther before the obstacles appeared, and this time I was better prepared to deal with it. I knew from the previous time that my breathing WOULD slow down, my heart rate would stabilize, and I could tackle it again. I was ready with positive self-talk. I knew where to turn for encouragement.
As time progressed, I worked my way up to a mile and a half at a snail's pace. I started feeling confident that maybe I could reach my goal. Instead of "if," I began saying "when." I had a schedule, a plan, and a routine. I began to look forward to the workout because it was a chance for me to succeed at something I put my mind to. I began to share with others my goals and my improvements.
And then...I came down with a nasty upper respiratory infection that turned into acute sinusitis, bronchitis, and possible pneumonia. Walking down the hallway from my bedroom felt like running a marathon. Climbing the stairs was impossible. Going for a run was out of the question, and I had no idea when I would again be able to attempt it. As I felt sicker and sicker, I didn't even WANT to run again. My confidence waned and I felt like I had been set back more than I could ever overcome. The obstacles seemed insurmountable and I resigned myself to, yet again, failing to meet a goal I had set for myself. Towards the end of the illness I had a follow-up at the doctor and I shared my frustration with her. "Any time I try to get a workout schedule going, I end up sick or hurt and can't continue it. I'll never be in shape. I'll never be a runner. I just can't." Immediately, she stopped me mid-sentence. "Wait right there. You can absolutely do this. Everyone faces obstacles and difficulties. Your biggest enemy right now is yourself. Tell yourself you can do this and you can. Trust me. I've been there. I was running a race one time and suffered a terrible illness/injury. I just knew my race was over. I allowed myself to heal and then started back from square one. My body didn't let me down. I was stronger than I gave myself credit for, and I made it. You will, too."
So, I "got back on the horse," so to speak. As I slowly recovered my strength, I laced up my running shoes and started back to my workout routine. The first few runs felt forced and unsteady. I had lost some progress, but I persevered. Slowly, I stretched my distance and my endurance, and within a few weeks I felt confident and determined to run the entire 5K distance. I had my doubts, but I silenced them the best I could. I also recruited my husband to run with me, even though his fitness level far exceeded mine. We dropped the kids off at their tae kwon do lessons and got started. The first mile was brutal. I was ready to give up with each step, but I stubbornly pressed on. At the one mile mark I had a burst of energy. I was doing it! I was running! My husband kept a one-sided conversation going to distract me (I certainly couldn't talk AND breathe at the same time), and we had energetic music playing in the background to keep our pace. The 2 mile mark came and went and I still felt good, but at the 2 1/4 mark I felt like I hit a brick wall. I expressed my concern, and my husband cheered my progress, validated my fatigue, and kept pushing me forward. "You can do this. I am with you every step of the way. We are doing this together." So, I kept on. I didn't want to let him down. Step by step, we made our way down the trail. Step by step, we inched closer to my goal. Step by step, we put the obstacles behind us and kept our eyes on the goal. As we passed the 3 mile mark, I could see our ending point ahead of me. It was no longer an abstract place somewhere in the future. It was there, just ahead of me, and I was going to make it! I dug deep and put everything I had in to those last few yards and crossed the finish line. Stunned, I felt my eyes well up with tears and I had a lump in my throat. I slowed to a recovery walk and struggled to catch my breath from both the exertion and the excitement. I had done it! I had set a goal and reached it. I had run the race I set out to finish. I felt overwhelmed with thankfulness that my body was in a healthy enough state to make this trek. I immediately breathed a prayer of appreciation for the blessing of a godly husband who encouraged me past an obstacle and helped me reach my goal.
I know that, in the grand scheme of things, a race is so insignificant. While it feels really big to me in this moment, it is temporary and has no eternal or spiritual significance. However, as I have started this life as a "runner" (I am still SO slow), I have seen so many parallels to the Christian race.
1. I started out on this journey on fire to follow this path and to run a 5K race. I was motivated, prepared, and excited. I couldn't wait to head to my first workout. I had the right shoes, the right gear, and the right attitude. I had read so many articles, talked to so many people who loved to run, and I felt like I knew what was required. I was going to be a runner! Aren't we that way when we first learn and obey the gospel? We can't wait to tell everyone about it. We can't wait to start this race. We know the right things, we study the right things, we are armed with our Bibles and our motivation and our plans.
2. Obstacles happen. Just like I started strong that first run and then hit the wall at 2/10 of a mile, we start strong as new Christians and, inevitably, obstacles happen. Maybe we share our new life with a family member who discourages us from following this path. Maybe friends ridicule us. Maybe we become ill and have to miss services and time with our church family. Maybe we try to serve and are criticized. Obstacles look different for everyone, but they do happen. Our adversary is like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. (1 Pet 5:8). He will put stumbling blocks and detours in our way. It's not a matter of "if," it's a matter of "when."
3. It can be overwhelming. Just as I felt overwhelmed with the enormity of the task before me when I started running, I can remember being overwhelmed as a new Christian with how much I didn't know. I remember talking to my now-husband and thinking that I would never have half the Bible knowledge that he did. I felt like everyone was so far ahead of me on this race and that I could never catch up. I felt slow and clumsy in Bible study, just as I did when I first started running. I learned to take it in small chunks, improving slowly day by day. Sometimes I got ahead by leaps and bounds, and other times it seemed like baby steps. It wasn't until years later that I could look back and see that I was farther along the path than where I started. Now, I can hold my own in spiritual discussions with my husband and can help encourage him the way he encourages me.
4. You can't do it alone. We need each other. We need support. We need encouragement. Don't discount the importance of Christian friends to help you along this path.
5. We don't HAVE to do it alone. When I finally ran a 5K distance for the first time, my husband assured me constantly that he would be with me every step of the way. That was such an encouragement and so motivating to me. On a much grander and more significant scale, God promises to be with us every step of the way as a Christian. He will never leave us or forsake us. My husband does his best to keep his promises to me, but sometimes he fails. My God, however, keeps EVERY promise He makes. Without fail. Every time.
6. Our inner voice doesn't always tell the truth. My inner voice wants me to quit or take the day off all the time. My aches and pains want me to sit on the couch. Luckily, I am not defined by that inner voice. The way that seems right to me won't get me where I need to be. Likewise, there is a way that seems right to men, but the end thereof is death. May we always focus on the voice of the Savior, the Shepherd who leads us. His voice speaks only truth (John 17:17). He will never mislead us.
6. Keep your eyes on the finish line. One thing I have discovered as I have trained is that, if I look down at my feet or a step or two in front of me, I get overwhelmed and anxious. I feel like I am making no progress, I start to focus on my heart rate or my breathing, and I feel like I can't make it any farther. I quit easier and struggle more. However, when I keep my eyes on the finish line, I am able to cover ground easier and quicker. Wasn't Peter the same way when stepping out to walk on the water towards Jesus? When he focused on the Lord, he was able to do the unthinkable. But, when he focused on the waves, he began to sink. Keeping our eyes on eternity can help us stay on the right path.
While I am still very slow at running, I am constantly improving. I am not giving up. Step by step, I am plugging along toward my goal. My speed doesn't matter. My endurance does. I AM a runner. While I will never finish first in a race, I WILL cross that finish line victorious.
The same is true for my life as a Christian. Sometimes, I feel like my growth and progress are so slow. But growth is growth. Some days I spend a lot of time with God's word. Other days I feel like the time I spend is so minimal. But, every minute in God's word is another minute of growing and learning. Step by step, I am plugging along toward my goal. My speed doesn't matter. My endurance does. I AM a runner with a goal of eternal life. I press on toward that goal with my eyes on the prizes. I am looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of my faith, and I WILL cross that finish line victorious.
