Life is a Marathon
Last year, I ran the Richmond Marathon. I’m not sure why, but it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.
My last month of training hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped. I’d lost interest, probably because I was training alone. However, I always assumed I’d finish the race. After much preparation and anticipation, the big day finally arrived. There was a light drizzle of rain that morning, but the forecast was for clearing skies and perfect temperatures for running.
Runners take your mark. Get set. Go… and off I went!
Around mile ten I began to hurt. I felt as if every organ in my body was taking a ride on the Scrambler at the local amusement park – bumping and sloshing into each other, looking for an escape route out of my body. But, I kept pushing onward.
Mile thirteen was a bright spot with my husband and kids cheering me on with signs and high-fives. By mile nineteen, I was again struggling. I had reached the part of the course where I had to turn and run in the opposite direction of the finish line. At this point, I felt certain I should be headed home and desperately needed to be headed TOWARDS the finish line. While I was still wrestling with this thought, I was immediately confronted with the largest hill on the course. Ugh!!! But again, I was saved by the sight of my family cheering as I crested the hill and made my way to the bottom.
Now, only six more miles to go. Surely, I could finish six more miles. I had been training for six months, so although every muscle and bone in my body from my neck down was hurting from the pounding of pavement under foot, my lungs were clear and strong. My head was completely lucid. But, my thoughts started to go south.
“I hurt. I want to go home. What was I thinking? I’m insane. Will I make it? Maybe if I lay down right here, someone will drag me to the end. God, if I make it to the finish line, I promise to never attempt something so ludicrous ever again.”
As I continued whining in my mind, I rounded the corner and was faced with something profound that shook me out of my funk.
There sat a woman in a wheelchair, unable to walk, cheering for me. I was humbled and grateful for her presence. She was truly a gift because suddenly, my poisonous thoughts became thoughts of gratitude. I was grateful that she would come out and encourage me to do something she couldn’t do. I was thankful that I was able to walk and run, albeit painful.
With the flick of a switch, my entire attitude changed. My circumstances didn’t. I still felt the shock wave of pain shooting up my body with each stride. I still had three more miles of agony ahead. But now, I was armed with powerful new thoughts. Positive thoughts! And they carried me to the finish line.
I pray that when you’re in the midst of pain and hard times that you’ll choose positive thoughts. Choose to focus on God’s goodness instead of the trying circumstances that surround you. You’ll find a refreshing and renewed focus that will help you go the distance. Life is a marathon. Don’t lose sight of the prize at the end of this journey.
Be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances. 1 Thessalonians 5:16
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