Tuesday, May 3, 2011

I ran.

Yesterday I went for what I thought was a walk. I was praying as I usually do as Sam chattered from the stroller. Then:

"Why don't you run?"

Clear as day. I inside my head. Along with a compelling need to do as I was asked.

So I did.

I jogged until my breath was squeezed from my lungs. Then I walked. Then the voice, again:

"Why don't you run?"

I bet you can guess what I did then. I jogged some more. Then walked.

And so on.

And I made it 4.5 miles in 70 minutes. I can hear all of you runners making a little joke in your head. Yeah, I know...it's slow. Turtle time.

But for me, it was a huge victory. I actually jogged.

The feeling was one of exhiliration. I didn't die. I wasn't even damaged or injured.

And I felt incredible.

And this morning, I did it again.

This time I started out jogging, taking only a few breaks to walk.

Everytime I wanted to give up, I got strength to go a little bit further. To push a little bit longer. To breathe deeper and dig deeper.

And I did 4.5 miles in 50 minutes.



I sat down afterward as Sam snoozed in the stroller. I sat in the sun on a bench overlooking the pond, and I cried. I called out to God in a voice filled with wonder and gratitude.

"Lord, I ran!"

"I know."

"No really, Lord...I RAN! For 4.5 miles. Just like I had prayed for for so long!"

"Remember, your dreams are MY dreams."

And then I just cried harder.

I doubted myself, and I doubted my God. I was ashamed of this body He gave me. I cursed it.

And then, this body carried me into a run.

This body carried me through miles. My lungs stretched to accomadate my drive, my heart beat hard and true to take me father than I thought possible. My legs did not tire. I did not collapse.

I ran. I ran into the dream that I had had for so long. And God ran beside me, step for step.