One More Mile

 I love running. I know that sounds weird to most people but it has become part of my life and what I do.  I started years ago as a way of a fitness program to keep in shape. Later it became an outlet to get me through a difficult time in my life. It just became something I did, sort of like a habit or lifestyle. Jim started running with me years later. One day he suggested we race. I said " like what to the corner, cause I will totally beat you."   He said "No, let's sign up for a race like a 10k or something, and you will not beat me". I said " that sounds horrible, all those people running each other over. But I will if that's what you want to do". We did and I loved it. Shortly after that we were out for a run and Jim says " let's do a half marathon".  I said "What, isn't that 13 something miles? That sounds horrible". But I did and I loved it. It's no coincidence that I began racing around the same time I gave my life to Christ. God has used my running and racing to show me what this journey with Him looks like, that it's a marathon, not a sprint. That it's a commitment. It's not always easy but I love it and can't imagine doing life without Him. 

 There are days when I set out to run a few miles to clear my head and refresh my soul then I find myself wanting to go just one more mile. Feeling like I can go forever.  Then I can have a day when I plan to go on a long distance run and find myself after just a couple of miles thinking, this is too hard; I can not go one more mile. 

 This past Saturday I had one of those days that I felt like I could run forever. We have found this great park with paths that loop along the intercostal, through a park, around soccer fields and under a bridge. We have to loop a few times to get our miles in but it was one of those cool crisp mornings that was refreshing. Maybe it was the ocean breeze, salty misty air and a great play list but I felt invigorated. After a couple of loops I looked at Jim and motioned with my hands suggesting we go one more mile? I could see on his face that he wasn't having the same invigorating morning as me, he shook his head no. Fair enough. I've been there too. 

 The following morning we set out for the same course. We typically determine our distance before we head out. However, I follow his lead. Being that I'm not the planner like he is, nor do I pay attention to detail it's never a surprise to him when my Garmin GPS watch dies because I failed to put it in the charger. So along with a dead battery this day, my ear phones also would not stay put, making my play list on my iPod very difficult to hear. This was not going to be the same invigorating day as yesterday. Sometimes I think God is trying to tell me to just be still and listen to His voice. No music, no Garmin to focus on my distance or my pace, just His still small voice to keep me on course. And of course this would be the day Jim would suggest... One more mile. 

 It was a long steady run in the quietness of the morning as the tide was still going out to sea and the park waking up. Surprisingly everything was quite in my head which made me less distracted by my own thoughts. I was more aware of the people who were setting up for an event  later that morning, barking dogs taking each other on and even the grunting of my running partner a couple of steps next to me, I was able to listen. There is something about stopping the noise to truly listen to what God is trying to tell me. I'd like to tell you He spoke this huge audible voice and gave me complete detailed instruction of what to do with the rest of my life moving forward. He didn't. What He did do was remind me once again,  of all that He has already done, promises to continue to do because of His constant presence in my life......

 As I was running through this wooded park then along the beautiful intercostal, viewing the city sky line, I was reminded of my first trip to Boston. It was in 2008 to run the Boston Marathon. I really had no great desire prior to that,  to participate in what is considered an elite running event. I just like to run. But, because my husband encouraged me, " Connie you are only six minutes away from qualifying for Boston, don't you want to do that?" I remember saying something like " six minutes faster? That sounds horrible" he said " you get us to Boston, I'll give us a great family vacation. You can do this!"  

Often times he is my biggest cheerleader and I love him for it. 

 

 Though I absolutely loved running the Boston marathon and am grateful for the experience, it was the qualifying race that taught me more about this journey I'm on than anything. That Race was the toughest races I've ever ran. The  day came and I was sure I had trained well. My plan ( remember I am not a planner by nature) was to start off aggressive, pick up speed as I went and run super fast toward the end. Sounded like a good plan to me. 

  I ran my pace ( as fast as I could ) and felt great until mile 19 when I began getting dehydrated. It was warmer than expected and I was running out of fuel. I knew I had to break the 3:50 mark but had no idea what pace I was actually running since I was only wearing a stop watch. So I prayed. Because that is also something I do. " God, I don't think I can run one more mile, if you, for whatever reason; want me to run Boston please, get me there." The next five miles were tough. And because I knew this course, I knew the overpass at around  mile 24 was going to  take everything I had left in my legs, lungs and heart to get me over that mountain. It was right about then that the pace setter with the marker 3:50 ran past me with a pack of runners following along.  A pace setter is simply a lead runner who sets the pace of the time other runners want to finish in. He was carrying my time on a tall stick and seemed to be holding the pace necessary to finish. Could this be that I, in my own strength, had been running ahead of the pace setter? No wonder I was out of fuel. My plan stunk. He looked like he could run forever. I looked (and felt) like I had been hit by a truck. 

  I had been listening to my iPod, I took my headphones off so that I could hear what the pace setter was telling the runners following him. First I asked one of the girls if they were on pace to finish at 3:50? I needed to be sure this guy knew what he was doing if I was going to follow this pack in to the finish line.  She looked at me and sort of  grunted as if to say: " look at this guy, of course he knows what he is doing, he's the pace setter, he has a plan, so of course we are on pace" was she mocking my plan? Possibly, because then I think she might have told me to shut up with another grunt. I had to pick up my pace to get within an ear shot so I could  hear the pace setter instructing us ( which now included me) following. What I heard was " don't stop, keep going", those were his simply instructions. And he repeated that for the rest of the race. I will never forget the encouragement in his voice when we hit mile 25 "one more mile guys, just one more mile.  don't stop, keep going." 

 That pace setter carried me those last few miles of the race I thought I couldn't finish, much less at the pace I needed to qualify for Boston. When I couldn't see the finish line, I heard him say one more mile... Don't stop. As I came around that corner with the finish line finally in sight, I spotted my family in the crowd. The smiles on their faces brought me to tears, I heard them shout my name and cheer me on. Jim pointing to his watch was saying " you're going to make it, don't stop!" I think he was worried I was going to run over and hug them and miss my time. Because that would be just like me, I'm sort of like our old yellow lab Molly, easily distracted. What I couldn't see, Jim could, and that was just exactly how close I was to making my time. As I crossed the finish line I looked at my good ole Timex and it read 3:49:47. 13 seconds to spare.  Only God could do that because I know it wasn't me. Reminds me of the footprints in the sand story... " It was then that I carried you.....

 I  wonder if that pace setter guy ever thinks about the crazy lady at the finish line that day who with tears in her eyes, hyperventilating thanking him for pushing her one more mile to the finish line? I wish I could thank him again. Because he did a lot more that day than help me finish a race. He helped me to see that God is the pace setter in my life and He will always get me through one more mile. 

  I believe God often works that way. When I am doing what He has called me to do and it gets tough, when I know the hill ahead is going to take everything left in my legs, lungs and heart, when I want to quit, throw in the towel or think what difference am I making? When I can not go even one more mile He carries me. Often times He brings someone along to encourage, push and cheer me on saying " don't stop, keep going, just one more mile." 

 We are all running our own marathon in this life. I know that by comparison, many of yours is much more difficult than mine. You or someone you love might have some serious health issues, your husband isn't keeping the promises he made to you years ago and making foolish choices, you have a wayward child and don't know if they will ever come back around.  The little munchkins in your life are taking up every ounce of your enegry as you carry them on this marathon with you. I don't know all the details of your journey but I would love to cheer you on ....follow the pace setter, He has a plan and it is much better than our own. And  don't stop, keep going, just one more mile. One mile at a time. 

My verse during the Boston Marathon in 2008, that I still cling today and it's one of God's promises for you too- 

" Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand." Isaiah 41:10 

Pressing On