The Sidelines Struggle: My Almost-Marathon Experience

Yesterday I woke up at 5AM and laced my running shoes and picked up my race packet.

I stood close and cheered my heart out for my friend and running buddy, Mollie.

Only now did I find the resolve to fish out my race number.

This weekend I came face to face with myself. Not in the cinematic way I had envisioned - finding super-human strength within myself to push past never-ending miles and cross the finish line - but in a way completely unexpected (and not half as fun, if I may add).

I've always resonated with the Biblical references to life as a race.
But what about seasons on the sidelines?

I am convinced that the LORD has had my goodness and holiness at the forefront of these events. Yesterday was wonderful and beautiful and hard. To start things off, we landed a free (and extremely nice!) hotel room only 15 minutes from the race site. Mollie's friend had been staying there for a conference, and there was an extra room. To top it off, Mollie's friend loves Jesus, and so she prayed over us both and loved us well. We stayed there Saturday night and even returned to shower post-race on Sunday. Major blessing!

We also got this view.

Sunday morning was seamless. We found a shuttle and made it to the race site without issue. I can honestly say that I desired Mollie's best and so I made it my job to ensure everything went as smoothly as possible for her. It has been a tremendous joy training with her, and it remained a joy serving her yesterday.

But being at the race was odd. I looked the part. I felt as if I was fighting the urge to step onto the course the entire time leading up to the start. The course looped back by the start at mile three, so I waited for Mollie to pass again before making my plans.

Just before the start

Blurry Mollie = Speedy Mollie

Thanks to Yelp, I found a Starbucks within walking distance. But before heading that direction, I ran into this little guy! (Melt!) And yes, I showed his owner pictures of Brooklyn.

On my two-mile trek to Starbucks, I observed some lovely sights and tried out my new GPS watch.

As I sat at Starbucks and enjoyed these,

the rain began to pour. And I mean pour!

Some of the half-marathon finishers began invading the Starbucks a little later, and they were soaked to the bone! A very nice runner-lady offered to drive me back to the race site, but I preferred to walk. Thanks to my umbrella, my head and shoulders stayed halfway dry.

Mollie started with the 4:15 pace group, but in my head I knew I'd see her at the finish around 3:45. This girl is a beast! In high school, she ran a sub-19-minute 5K, and last month she ran a 1:38 half.

The race finish ended on a school track. A small portion of it was marked off for finish line events. The runners came through a wooded trail and onto the track for the final leg of the race.

Here comes Mollie!

Smiling and soaked: that was my first impression when I saw her step onto the track. She looked great, but she looked tired (duh). Without thought, I threw down my umbrella and bag and ran beside her all the way around the track and to the finish, screaming and cheering the entire time.

Can you believe this girl ran a seven-something mile on mile 26?

The first words out of her mouth were, "I've never been in so much pain in my life!" But you wouldn't have known it looking at her! (Ibuprofen soon remedied that, and she was walking around without issue.)

Post-race!

Her finish time was 3:46:18 - remarkable for a first-time marathoner! She said she loved the down-pour, with the only real down-side being the sloshy shoes. I am so proud of my friend!

It wasn't until I returned home that I really allowed myself to feel anything besides excitement and joy. Something had been nagging at me all day, though I wouldn't acknowledge it.

Then it hit me. I felt entirely unremarkable. I felt average. Normal. I had failed to achieve my goal.

No one cheers for spectators. Even those hobbling across the finish line were worthy of applause. But those on the sidelines? I was unnoticed, and that bothered me.

Wow. Sometimes I don't want to look in the mirror. Yesterday was one of those times I came face-to-face with my own prideful ugliness. It was hard. It was good. It was extremely hard.

My sideline experience actually was a race experience. In life, at least. The author of Hebrews describes it is as such:

[L]et us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:1b-3, ESV)

Yesterday was weighty. My pride was clinging closely. It felt like one of those "miles" that just stinks! One of the ones you push through because you believe there is something better beyond. I am reminded to look to Jesus in the midst of the race. Jesus has already endured it all (joyfully!) and come out on the other side entirely victorious! Because of this, He is the one who is perfecting me and enabling me to run with endurance even when it stinks.

A couple of my friends really got it yesterday. They were my cheering committee. One sent me a text affirming my choice to cheer and acknowledging the fact that is was hard for me. Another just hugged me and asked if I had cried.

I did cry. I cried for happiness and unfulfilled dreams and for my selfishness and sickness and for the hope that there is a better mile ahead. I am thankful that He is "seated at the right hand of the throne of God," and that I am not Lord of my own life. I am thankful for my journey toward recovery and for the hope of newness. I am thankful for people who love me well and go the distance even on those messy miles. I am thankful for the last six months of training and the encouragement I received from my friend, Mollie. I wouldn't trade it all for anything.