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I ran a marathon today. My third full marathon.

Completely unprepared, ask anyone.

I’ll finish this race, if my pride doesn’t get in the way—
 (I told my friend this at mile 21)

This is the part where I boast about my weakness, so that you can understand the only reason I finished: God helped me

I wanted to run.
I really really wanted to run!! But… my legs were so swollen, threatening injury, cramping, and I know from past experiences where my limit is. I’d reached it at mile 23.

No more running for me. I’m still 3.2 miles shy. Oh God.

So I walked. I walked, embarrassed, ashamed, feeling weak and stupid. I walked.

“I should have made more time to train”
“But I was praying, fundraising, speaking life into people’s lives, I was visiting Bible studies”

This argument went on and on.

Once I got over myself, I started to praise. I started to sing.

I said “okay, God, one step at a time” I sang “Forever Reign” and “How He Loves” and “Our God” and all kinds of songs that played on the radio.
I thought of my sweet friend Courtney, who told me to run for her since she can't run. I spoke to strangers about my mission trip. I encouraged people. I high-fived children and accepted free candy. I thanked volunteers.

Then… well… I am glad I was by myself because I let my personality…um… show.

I started asking people on the sidelines if they could even see me, because I was moving so fast (I was walking, mind you). At first they smiled, unsure, then they realized I was making fun of myself and allowed themselves a good laugh.

I asked another set of bystanders if I looked fast, they laughed so hard.

I said “don’t act like you’re not impressed!” and high schoolers were bending at the waist, laughing uncontrollably.

“This is what running a marathon looks like! Observe my technique!”

“Now I’m really moving!”

“Oh here we go, got that second wind!” and I’d pump my arms, feet stayed walking.

I had a little bit too much fun.

Then, for the grand finale, which I planned miles ahead since I had so much free time…
I decided to wind up an imaginary lasso, lasso the finish line, and pull the rope as I stepped forward, as if I were scaling the ground.
Then… yes… I did cast my imaginary line, and fish for the finish line.
They probably got that on my finisher's video. Can't wait to see it.

I got some laughs.

I got over my pride.

Yeah I took forever and a day to run a marathon…

but I finished.

God was my helper, as always.

Faithful.

Encouraging.

And I’m sure He was chuckling and shaking His

head, watching me be silly.

In the end, I'd much rather walk for the glory of God

than run for my own.

4 responses to “FISHING THE FINISH LINE”

  1. This is epic lady!!! Love it! Glad you could let yourself be you and what not…continue doing that, esp. while on the Race. It’s important! Oh and I’m pretty sure God used you and your personality to impact every single one of those people on the sidelines. Seriously, epic!

  2. AJ– thank you!! I was definitely getting some laughs, had to have fun despite my situation, right? 🙂

    Tasha– yes, I will teach you my extensive (and I mean EXTENSIVE) lasso techniques. And it WILL come in handy. 😉