The Not-so-Amazing Race

I'm competitive and prideful. It's a marriage of personality traits made in not-heaven.

This past Saturday, I completed my 4th half marathon. I cannot say I ran the entire thing. I cannot say I enjoyed all of the 13.1 miles. I cannot say I am okay with being the next-to-last runner to cross the finish line.

Let me set the stage (and try to explain my finishing place to my competitive self.) There were only 30 or so people running this race. It was held in a neighboring mountain town. There were only 4 water stations. No port-a-potties. We were running on back country roads with cows and tractors and speeding trucks with loud mufflers. Because there were so few runners, we were all spread out. At times, I was running all by lonesome, looking frantically for the green spray paint arrow as I ran by houses I am certain should be featured on Hoarders. Or America's Most Wanted.

There was no loud music. No cheering and encouraging people along the side lines (unless you count the dead snake I almost stepped on.)

It was un-motivating and grueling. You must understand that my other races were run with friends. And in large cities. With groups of screaming people, holding encouraging signs and cheering you on. In Atlanta there was music bumpin' around every corner. And non-mountain inclines.

I swear, I literally heard crickets during this race. And there were mountain-sized inclines. And all of my potential running buddies were injured. so they say.

Here is a picture of sweet M finishing with me. (Note we began and ended in a beautiful park, but the actual race took place on back country roads and a highway. And the highway part was at the end, in the blazing hot sun.)

Y'all. I got the PITY APPLAUSE. The woman who won first place finished AN HOUR before I did. Because cute little M was running with me, everyone looked and clapped. BECAUSE THEY THOUGHT I WAS LAST.

And in all honesty, if the sweet lady in the pink shirt hadn't experienced some stomach issues, I really would have been last.

But since she didn't cross the finish line with a toddler in tow, no one noticed she finished 5 minutes after me. So they didn't clap. So I still received the oh-how-sweet-you're-the-last-runner-slowest-person-ever clap.

I have been humbled. Who knew you could complete a half marathon and still feel sluggish and out of shape?

I mean, I really look like I'm about to pass out merely from the effort exerted to hold my baby girl.

This experience got me thinking. About life. And the various races and seasons, ebbs and flows.

There have been times when I was surrounded by amazing and close friends who cheered me on and encouraged me through tough times. And then there are seasons similar to my recent race. Difficult and grueling without a visible cheering section. Where it was just me, God and TobyMac gettin' it done.

I was reminded that even when I feel alone, He is always there. Always supporting me, always encouraging me, always strengthening me. Always providing what I need, even when I want to give up and climb in the quitters-van. So be encouraged in whatever race you are currently running...

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:1-3