So I haven't really blogged consistently in FOREVER, and there is SO MUCH that has happened between now and then that I have to go back quite a ways in order to catch up to where I'm actually at in life now. And by going back a ways, I mean back to 2012. Eeek!
Around the time that I wrote this blog post in September 2012, there were a lot of changes in my life: an ended relationship, dropping out of seminary, new housing, new job, new social circles, new sleep patterns. I wrote a little about the challenges and the emotional struggle of that season in this blog post several months later. What I haven't yet written about (and this will be important in future posts) is how I spontaneously took up running during that season.
The long and short of it is that in a season of loss, I needed something to look forward to and some sort of hobby as an outlet. A friend at work and a friend at church separately urged me to consider running. After initially dismissing the ludicrous suggestion, I thought it actually might be a good idea and on a whim signed up to run with them in the 2012 SBTS Great Commission 5K, a race that is held ever year in October. Training gave me both something to do and something to look forward to.
On race day I showed up, feeling a little crazy for being there and praying that I would just finish the race well and not give up and walk halfway through. That year the course was 3 laps of the seminary campus, and was plotted so that the biggest hill was towards the end of a lap. On the first lap it slowed me down but I powered through. On the second lap I wondered if I would make it to the top without walking, and though I slowed down considerably, I managed to continue jogging. On the final lap, I barely made it to the top and then had to walk a stretch to catch my breath. At that point, I could hear my friend from work coming up behind me yelling, "Don't stop! Don't stop! You're almost there!" I began to run again, and pushed through the last quarter mile or so of the race to the finish line.
It felt like such an accomplishment to have finished the race and been part of something larger than myself. I stood around with my friends talking, eating the fruit provided and re-hydrating while we waited for the end of race formalities and awards. The announcer began calling out times and placements according to age group and while they were announcing the females in my age group I was shocked to hear my name. I had placed third!
For some reason, placing third in that 5K made me think that maybe I was a runner after all. I continued running in the weeks to come. Every time I saw my friend from church who also ran the 5K, she was telling me what a runner I was and soon began trying to convince me to run in the KY Derby Festival Mini Marathon with her the following spring.
I responded the same way I had about the 5K. There was no way I was a runner, much less would pay to run 13.1 miles. But as she and my friend from work continued to prod me to run the Mini with them, I eventually caved. What got me was when she asked when I would ever have the freedom or opportunity to run a mini marathon again. If there ever was a season of life that was ideal, I was living in it. And again, I figured it would be something to look forward to and work toward, something to keep me motivated in a season of life where I desperately needed it.
The KY Derby Festival Mini Marathon is held in April every year, so over the course of the next several months I began a training regimen to prepare. I tried to run just about every day, usually 2 or 3 miles. A couple times a week I would run longer periods, about 5 or 6 miles. The more fit I became, the longer I was able to run, and my longest run during my training was 8 miles.
Looking back now it all seems a little crazy. Each week I was working three or four 12 hour night shifts at the hospital and somehow managing to fit 1-1.5 hour runs in a couple times a week. Then there was the cold. Many times I would have to run in freezing weather or not at all and even the warmer runs during part of the training were still only in the 40's.
Part of me still can't believe how good I was at pretending to be a runner. I had my roommates convinced for sure, and almost had myself convinced too. Running seems so uncharacteristic of myself to me now, but looking back I see that God had a bigger plan for me in it than just running for something to occupy my time. Though I didn't know it then, while training for the Mini I was actually training for the biggest race of my life. And it wasn't what it seemed.
Labels: every day life