As a runner, there are great days and awful days, and you never know when they will happen. I think that is the worst part. The other worst part: I hate admitting my failures/weak runs. However, after some encounters with friends, I need to admit/unveil my weak runs.
Example: two weeks after my 2nd marathon, I was out running and after 1.25 miles I was seriously EXHAUSTED. Just 5 days after the 26.2er-I had tracked an 8 and 6 miler no problem. So-the idea of 1.25 being difficult at a not dying pace-was a killer. Yes-I stopped to walk for 20 seconds and then continued on to finish my run. Next day I go out: SAME STORY. I am now determined I have had my runner peak and am deeply disturbed by this fact. I didn't tell anyone, nor did I plan to, because I mean..I AM Meg-the 'runner' at MC, and that's all my life is. So the concept of not living up to being a 'runner' was terrifying to the inmost parts of my soul. I was ashamed that I could talk the talk, but the past 2 runs I was not walking the walk pur-se'.
Fast forward to Saturday's race: I ran a 5K with my dear friend, Brittney. I did not race it, but paced her. I am SO glad to have helped her finish in her time, and I got to run a 5k. However, it was honestly one of the hardest things I've ever done-to not RACE, but pace a friend. I knew I could keep up with the other girls. I wanted to scream at them-I'm pacing my friend who is a BEAST and has only been running 2 months! But they didn't know that. They just knew we were some college kids out running a few miles.
Moral of the story? I am beginning to realize I am extremely prideful in my accomplishments in running. I want the world to know what I am doing, and am completely side-tracking the whole start of my running. To let Jesus take hold of my body, and use it for his glory. Lately, I have been self-glorifying, and it is a hard pill to swallow realizing that I need to take a chill pill. The line between confidence and arrogance was crossed, and it's time to enter back the other side.
Example: the week before my first marathon I ran 5 miles on the treadmill, and it was seriously the hardest 5 miles of my life. I have never so badly wanted to just stop, let my feet stop moving, and call it quits. If I was outside where everyone wasn't watching, you BET I would have. However, since I was in the plex; feeling analyzed, I had to keep going and meet my 'easy taper number'. At that point, it had seriously been months since I'd ran 'only' 5 miles, so the concept of being that tired that 'early' on was life-shattering, and made me question if I could even run HALF a dang marathon.
So, although I do have a plethora of better runs than awful runs, the horrible, question if you will ever put back on running shoes, woe-filled runs DO happen to us ALL, including me. I am fully human, fully flawed, and am thankful to have a God that still lets me succeed even when I don't deserve it.
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