I ran my first ever 5K TEN YEARS AGO TODAY.
Ten. Years. Ago.
Ten years of entry fees and finish lines and medals and training miles and ever evolving chafing solutions. Ten years of strength and perseverance and runner’s highs and tearful miles.
Well, eight years of that. I haven’t been able to run for the past two years. After I broke my foot and Kenny took up space in my world, running has been off the table, but not out of my desires.
I don’t love running. I love ran… past tense. I love proving to myself that I can do hard things. I love shocking even myself. I love cheering others across finish lines that they weren’t confident they’d reach. I love doing that for myself too. Running has been an immense object lesson for me in life. Some miles are enjoyable and breezy. Others are difficult and you feel every single step in pain and joint jolts. But you forge steadily onward knowing that the hard miles won’t last forever and the easy miles don’t define the entire journey. You choose people who can run alongside you and help you when your feet threaten to give up. You encourage others in their races as well.
These are the reasons that I desire to run again. I don’t miss 4 am wake up calls for races or missing toe nails, or the cost of entrance fees. But I miss the lessons, accomplishments, and community that doing hard things instills in us.
For ten years, running has been a part of my life, but the lessons learned will continue far more than a decade.
“Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us…” Hebrews 12:1