My Own Little Pep Talk

The Glory Run has been looming in my mind. I had to skip ahead in the training program this week to get to the end. That meant that the goal was to run for 30 minutes or 3 miles.

Monday I had to use the treadmill because of time and weather. After the warm up walk I hit a descent pace, turned up the tunes and tried to distract myself. About 20 minutes into it I had to walk to catch my breath, but I went right back to it after that. When I thought I couldn’t take any more and looked to see that I still had 3 minutes to go, I got a little frustrated. However, when I checked the distance and saw 3.1 miles come up I was elated.

Granted, I was inside, ran the flat course and walked a couple of minutes; however, I did it. For the first time… ever…in my life…I ran for three miles -me, who couldn’t run 2 minutes without checking my watch a mere 6 ½ weeks ago (okay, truth be told, I still check the watch constantly, hoping the time will magically fly by).

I had big plans for my run today – the last one before the race. Visions of running the entire 30 minutes danced in my head. I reasoned that I would try to do it faster this time. Not…a good…idea.

My legs, for the first time, felt like lead. My head pounded and my heart raced. After a mere 5 minutes I thought I might actually die I was gasping for air so hard. I slowed the pace down and made another chunk of time, but then…I had …to walk.

I hated it and got mad at myself. I caught my breath and picked up the pace again. I just couldn’t push myself and ended up walking several times. I only got in 2.6 miles in the 30 minutes. I was totally deflated and decided that I would not run the race.

Now God has been using my early morning runs to speak to me about a lot of things and He wasn’t finished yet. I’ve known from the beginning that running this race was not about winning but about finishing. I’ve heard a lot from Him about not comparing myself to others in running or anything else. It doesn’t really matter how you get there, or how fast you go. What really matters is that you get there and you do it to the very best of your ability. God never really asks for anything more than that.

So Saturday, I WILL run the 5K – I may also walk. I will be humbled to be eating the dust of people much younger and older than me. I will be scared to death about running in my first real race – scared mostly because I don’t enjoy doing things I’m not good at with hundreds of people watching. I will be tired. I will be sore. I will be in pain. But…I will do it.

It won’t be pretty. It may even be a little ugly at times. It won’t be easy. And, for me, it will not be fun. However, I said I will do it and that is what I intend to do, no matter what it takes. Even…if…I am…the…very…last…one (oh please God save me from that at least).

I am really hoping that it all comes together - all the little life lessons God’s been teaching me along the way. I hope my focus won’t be on my place in the crowd, but on the finish line. I hope that when I hit the wall and feel that I can’t go any further, I will reach deep inside and keep going. I hope that when I cross that finish line, I will be proud of how far I’ve come.