Good intentions didn't get me too far. Disciplined training didn't end up being the priority I hoped it would be as the summer came to a close. As September 13th approached we questioned each other- why did we think this was a good idea? What were we thinking? Were we even thinking? The faint bit of anticipation I felt was solely for the moment I hoped to cross the finish line and be done with it. We determined that no matter what happened, we would finish together, even if it meant a mutual dragging of our bodies across the finish line!
On the morning of we scouted out the much more prepared looking competition and determined that our untrained goal was to finish in 2 hours and 10 minutes. We waited with anticipation with the hundreds of other runners for the starting gun. We started off nice and slow. There were 1km markers throughout the race so we knew how we were doing and what was still ahead. The first 10km felt great. I was thinking to myself, "This isn't so bad. I can do this." Then I realized I was only halfway done.
The back half of the race was conveniently the hilly half. My legs seemed to get heavier and slower with each step. All I could think about was when it was going to be over. Around the 13km mark, I began to notice the familiar surroundings on the path we were on. Ironically enough, I realized that I was running on the very same path that my family had walked together right after my dad's diagnosis the previous year.
I started to think just about him. I thought about his last three weeks here. I pondered what it would feel like to be so fatigued all the time that you cannot even keep your eyes open for more than a few minutes and too weak to be able to hold yourself up. I thought about what it would be like to be in a race and not know how close you are to finishing. First he thought the last leg of his race was 2-3 years. Then it was 3-6 months. Then it was at most "a few days" for several days. There was no way of really knowing.
Aside from never doing another half marathon without being ready, there were a few things I was reminded of that day as I pondered my dad and was made extremely aware of my many physical limitations!
Finishing well isn't easy. It's no wonder that the person who crosses the starting line first doesn't get anything. Everyone starts fairly well. That's not the hard part. It's not until you've endured the distance that you are rewarded.
He wasn't able to cheer me on at the finish line of this race but as I think about finishing this life well, I think of Hebrews 12:1: "Since we are surrounded my 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." When I get to the end, I hope he's standing there in the great cloud of those who have already finished cheering me in the same way he did at our first Betty's Run saying, "Go Steph, go!" I hope to be able to say, like I'm sure he did, "I have fought the fight. I have kept the faith. I have finished the race."