Endurance

I post this more for myself than for anyone else. I think marathoners are often guilty of that. We end up doing things that are significant only to us and to God. But then we feel obliged to explain to the outside world what we are doing. So here is my best explanation:

I ran this marathon knowing full well that I might not finish- but not really believing it. I had already run nearly the entire distance on a training run with hardly any pain. I was in better shape by far than many people I know who have challenged the beast. This race humbled me. It stripped me of my self-assurance, it exhausted my competitiveness, it mocked my training, and it demolished my body. I was told that the 21 mile mark would be where I would realize that I will finish. On the contrary, as I pounded out mile 21 I realized for the first time that I might not.

The suffering of a marathon is something that you have to experience in order to understand. For me the only thing I could compare it to was Frodo dragging the ring through Mordor- and not in the movies. The movies could not do justice to the seemingly endless misery portrayed in the books. They didn't have enough time. And like Frodo, there was precious little I could do to speed up the suffering or make it go away. I had some control, yes, but whether I ran a 7:30 minute pace (which my body wasn't going to allow me to sustain very long) or an 11 minute pace, I was still going to be out in the blazing sun for at least another half an hour. All I could do was keep putting one foot in front of the other. Pumping my arms. Looking forward to a brief second of cool water running down my body at the next water stop somewhere up ahead. And praying that God would let me finish. Because I suppose I could have quit, but I had nowhere to go. I was seriously overheated. The medical tents were at the finish line and that was the only place I knew for sure I could get help if I needed it. And besides, I don't quit. I might be a pansy, but I'm an ornery one. I have never failed to finish a race and I wasn't about to give that up. And you know, God got me across that line this time too.

All of this is very well and good as a race story. But I am running a bigger marathon in my life right now. I prayed four years ago that God would not let me live a "normal" American life, and He has answered that prayer. I love the excitement. I love the challenge. I love the sense of purpose. I also acknowledge that I have signed up for a marathon, not a golf tournament. It's dirty. It's scary. It's lonely. Sometimes it is really frustrating, and I know that sometimes it is going to hurt so bad that I'm not sure I can finish. But, like in the marathon, stepping off the course is more dangerous than fighting through. I refuse to pray for an easy life. I WILL fulfill God's purpose for my life. And I won't do it on my own power. This marathon is going to run me dry and God is going to have to carry me through the wall. I WILL finish, by the power of Christ in me!