Do you remember having to run the mile in gym class? In about middle school, I remember dreading this day! I never saw the point of running in a circle over and over again. I didn't particularly enjoy running and was more interested in boys and what my friends were wearing that day. I would have chosen to do a week of extra homework over running the mile.
Then, at the end of high school, I had a Forrest Gump moment. I just decided to step out of my house one day and start running. I don't know why. That first run wasn't very far. It wasn't very fast, and I was panting like a dog on a summer's day when I got back home walking through the house like a zombie desperate to make it to the kitchen for some water. Yet, there it was. My first, intentional run.
I didn't stick to running consistently, but my relationship with running outdoors had begun. By the end of my twenties I had picked up running again and began running in some races. I remember stopping quite a few times when I know I could have pushed forward. Right before I found out I was pregnant with our daughter, I ran a 5 miler, and that was the last race I would run until this past weekend just over 6 years later. I am older and have had children, yet I ran with more ease, confidence and in better time than the younger me. I am a very different person now, and it's nice to see that person is someone closer to who I know God made me to be in him.
So, why the void for those years? Well, I had 3 kids and a miscarriage during that time. I battled depression with a husband gone for work much of the time. Me-didn't really exist until recently. My need to make everyone OK around me, to be the perfect mom, to make everything good was getting the best of me again after the birth of my son. I wanted to avoid that pit of despair I've known quite intimately before. After months of sleep deprivation and the realization that I had to do something for me to help my family, I started running. I knew that I wasn't just running to lose the baby weight. I wasn't going to run just to say, "I'm a runner". I wasn't going to run just for me. No, it was ultimately for my family. I needed to be get healthy physically, emotionally and mentally. I knew that running was going to help me do that. I knew that the better gift for my family would be to run as opposed to running around the house like a chicken with it's head cut off.
When I run, so much happens. What is not supposed to be tangled up inside, starts to unravel. I have to think about breathing, to breathe deeply and purposely. I have to keep telling myself to go even when the incline is steep, my legs are burning and my side is aching. I wipe the sweat off, and keep moving. I make goals and literally chase them. I can see why the Bible uses the runner as an example of our life with him.
I am not running away from anything. I am running toward something. I am moving forward by the grace of God. What a blessing to move forward with his hand gently pushing me. What a blessing not to get stuck or to get stuck and get out of that pit, because all of my strength comes from him.
Then, at the end of high school, I had a Forrest Gump moment. I just decided to step out of my house one day and start running. I don't know why. That first run wasn't very far. It wasn't very fast, and I was panting like a dog on a summer's day when I got back home walking through the house like a zombie desperate to make it to the kitchen for some water. Yet, there it was. My first, intentional run.
I didn't stick to running consistently, but my relationship with running outdoors had begun. By the end of my twenties I had picked up running again and began running in some races. I remember stopping quite a few times when I know I could have pushed forward. Right before I found out I was pregnant with our daughter, I ran a 5 miler, and that was the last race I would run until this past weekend just over 6 years later. I am older and have had children, yet I ran with more ease, confidence and in better time than the younger me. I am a very different person now, and it's nice to see that person is someone closer to who I know God made me to be in him.
So, why the void for those years? Well, I had 3 kids and a miscarriage during that time. I battled depression with a husband gone for work much of the time. Me-didn't really exist until recently. My need to make everyone OK around me, to be the perfect mom, to make everything good was getting the best of me again after the birth of my son. I wanted to avoid that pit of despair I've known quite intimately before. After months of sleep deprivation and the realization that I had to do something for me to help my family, I started running. I knew that I wasn't just running to lose the baby weight. I wasn't going to run just to say, "I'm a runner". I wasn't going to run just for me. No, it was ultimately for my family. I needed to be get healthy physically, emotionally and mentally. I knew that running was going to help me do that. I knew that the better gift for my family would be to run as opposed to running around the house like a chicken with it's head cut off.
When I run, so much happens. What is not supposed to be tangled up inside, starts to unravel. I have to think about breathing, to breathe deeply and purposely. I have to keep telling myself to go even when the incline is steep, my legs are burning and my side is aching. I wipe the sweat off, and keep moving. I make goals and literally chase them. I can see why the Bible uses the runner as an example of our life with him.
I am not running away from anything. I am running toward something. I am moving forward by the grace of God. What a blessing to move forward with his hand gently pushing me. What a blessing not to get stuck or to get stuck and get out of that pit, because all of my strength comes from him.
