Tomorrow, 1/6/2026, will be one year since I started this adventure!
I just read my very first post on this “running journey”—more like a decision to honor the Lord with my physical body. Something I neglected and abused because I didn’t see my body as His temple. That initial post was written on day 28 of this 365-day adventure.
I remember writing that post and believing that because I finally shared the adventure I was on, I would probably quit. Can I just say, I’ve quit 100 times in the last year, but God! He’s been the reason I get up and keep going. He gave me this temple, this imperfect body, and if I take care of it, it ends up taking care of me. After all, He knit me together and made me so much stronger than I ever thought I could be. So where am I at?
I still run/walk, and that’s ok. I completed 11 miles this past Saturday. I’ve lost about 40 lbs., but that’s still such an unreliable metric. If I haven’t used the toilet, I’m 5 lbs. heavier; if it’s the week after my menstruation, I’m 7 lbs. lighter. It’s just silly. However, on 1/6/2025, I was wearing size 18 jeans. Today, I’m wearing a size 12. That’s incredible and such a God thing.
My prayer continues to be that I just complete this half—that I finish 13.1 miles safely, knowing that Jesus has had to push me on every single long run. Because my goodness, this has sucked. Oof. Runner’s high? I think that’s only for people who are in shape. Us out-of-shape people have runner’s “it’s ok.” Not quite a “high,” but I’m gonna finish. I’m down to the final weeks of training before the “race” on 2/7. I put race in quotes because I’m only racing myself. The version of me that always quits is always so close. She’s right on my heels.
In these months of training, I’ve been so grateful to the Lord for His constant presence. I run a trail near my home, and I’ve seen deer, squirrels, and plenty of beautiful birds. I’ve run alongside some random pup that just happened to be there one day. I’ve seen so many strong runners and walkers on the trail, and I always want to clap for them—but then quietly keep my head down and keep going. I’ve run in the cold and heat, the rain and those gorgeous sunny days. I’ve wanted to quit, sat down, cried, and kept going. Oh, to finish.
I don’t know how to explain it. Twenty years ago, I made the best decision of my life—to follow Christ. So I’ve been through it with Him. He’s walked with me through betrayals, through indescribable moments of joy and gladness, through changes, through peaceful moments and times of turmoil. He’s guided me, given wisdom, and spiritually renewed me. He’s made my Spidey senses tingle and saved me from many messes. He’s given me rest when I was restless and provided a community to do life with. Now, He’ll be with me every step of the way, reminding me that I can do hard things with Him—because I’ve done hard things with Him.
This journey is such a metaphor for my life—riddled with pain and difficulty, but simultaneously feasting on overwhelming beauty. I have this persistent longing to end this adventure rightly. A hope to finish well.
Oh, I pray the next post I write is me communicating to you all how I finished a half marathon—how Jesus pulled me through a finish line that I never thought I could cross.
I think about Jesus a lot while I’m out there. I think of my husband, too, my kiddos, what my next adventure will be, and I’m excited—because with HIM, I can do hard things.