Run the mile you are in
I am not a fan of running. Let me clarify, I sprinted on my high school track team because I needed a sport to get into West Point and no one would describe me as coordinated! I am not a fan of running long distance (anything more than 1/4 way around a track!) My husband, on the other hand, loves to run. So, running in races became part of our family bonding. I used to say I am not a runner, but a racer. I would sign up for a race with the best of intentions to train and would catch myself on a treadmill the Monday before a race, in my typical procrastination form, trying to cram in a one hour run before a ten mile race that weekend…never a good training plan.
The year I turned 40, I decided to commit to something outside my comfort zone. I committed to running five marathons that year. I had previously run 10ks and half marathons, but a marathon requires actual training! I found my self spending countless hours by myself focusing on placing one foot in front of the other. Everything around me would disappear as I focused on the cadence of my footfall and the rhythm of my breathing in … and…out. Rob would remind me to run the mile I am in, to not be overwhelmed with the race. Something that I used to dislike, became the place that brought me peace. In that silent cadence nothing else mattered. I didn’t worry about the stress of work or the chaos of life, just one foot in front of the other.
That year, I ran my races in pouring rain, in snow and sweltering heat. I ran hills in my hometown that I don’t recall existing and wore through multiple pairs of running shoes. In my 10k days, if there was a chance of rain, I would choose to sleep in. I sometimes wonder if I didn’t run as many races as I did run. I was a fickle runner! But not that year, that year I ran every race no matter how harsh the environment or how difficult the terrain.
Something else happened that year. Rob and I had been trying to get pregnant for over seven years. That was the year I finally gave up and turned it over to God. Running was my way to get out of my own head and focus on my health, focus on me and not dwell on what could not be or the sadness that would overcome me multiple times a day. I didn’t worry about test results or the anxiety I would feel when the phone would ring with bad news, I just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. I would focus on my breath coming in …and…out. The rhythmic cadence of my footfall would slowly silence all the worry and all the what ifs. Jesus reminded us that “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26, NIV). I no longer had anything left, I just had to trust the path God had chosen for me, with or without children.
I don’t know why I signed up to do 5 marathons that year, maybe because I needed to do something that I felt was impossible. I finished those races and Rob and I got pregnant. The impossible, became possible-all thanks to God.
Today, I pray that you see, with God, all the possible in the things that seem impossible. I pray that you turn it over to God in word and action and be prepared to be amazed. Finally, I pray that you run the mile you’re in and not be overwhelmed by the race.
