Across the finish line and beyond

Well, we did it. For those of you who may not follow me on Facebook or connect with my personally that often, Amanda and I finished the marathon last month. It took us nearly 5 hours including pit stops at just about every water point, chatting with other runners along the course, grabbing snacks from random strangers supports the race from their lawns and even a bathroom break at a port-a-potty.  The weather was cold getting started (about 35 degrees Fahrenheit) but warmed up to a beautiful and sunny 50 by mid-day. The 10th anniversary of Tulsa's Route 66, it was very well organized and the largest turn out in the races history.

I have to admit the race was as hard as remembered a marathon to be, having run my first just three years ago in Honolulu. The first half of the run... 13 miles, is enough to wear any cardio expert out, but the last half is where the real intestinal fortitude is found. It was fun until we neared mile 15 and we realized there was no turning back.... no changing our mind and opting out for just the half.  Where the adrenaline wears off and the pain set in.  And that's when the mental strength of having trained those last 12 weeks finally pays off.

The night before the big event I sat down to make a list of 26 different prayers that I would use to guide my thoughts during the race. After all, much of my training and the reason I agreed to sign up for another full marathon was to take advantage of the time logging miles to pray for Living Well Ministries and the direction in the coming year. Then the morning came and the hustle to get up, get ready, get some breakfast, get Grandma all set up to babysit, get downtown, get the car parked and get to the finish line was a little overwhelming. I forgot my list at home.

The show must go on. And that was exactly what it turned out to be; a show. As I ran those 5 hours that Sunday and experienced all that marathons have to offer yet again, I couldn't help but think about how I missed my normal life. Sleeping in late on a Sunday morning, making breakfast with my son and getting ready for church. Spending time with my brothers and sisters in Christ, worshiping and praising God at the gathering place, then feasting on the Word that is preached. It was like my whole day of rest, Sunday, was stolen from me. By the time I got home from the race it was nearly 2pm and I hadn't eaten lunch, showered or greeted my son for the day. I digress...

I know it was just one day for the entire year.... well actually if you count the 12 weeks of training it was much more than that, but who's counting. Uh, this girl! I am counting :)  I am counting every second of every day because we MUST number our days. We have to realize how precious the resource TIME is and use every second to the best of our ability. Don't get me wrong here folks; I am a health professional and totally endorse regular exercise for everyone, but Lord help us to maintain balance in our life. For bodily exercise profiteth little: but godliness is profitable unto all things, having promise of the life that now is, and of that which is to come. I Timothy 4:8