When we began training we knew the goal. Qualify for Boston. The Boston Marathon. We computed our average mile time and trained all week an don weekends to beat the cut off time. When the big day came we felt prepared. Boston. I could taste it. Could I do it? The first fifteen miles we crossed each mile marker on time or early.
“I’m going to have to stop.” I admitted in disgust at mile marker 19.”Go ahead. Don’t slow down.” I told my running partner as I gave in to the stabbing pain and hobbled to a stop.
Stretching right and left I stood still as runners streamed by me. Breathing deep I sent oxygen to the upset muscles in my abdomen. Exhale. Straightening up the pain gave way to tightness. Moving right and left I glanced at my watch. I was probably too far behind to make the cutoff by now. But I’d never know unless I raced the last six miles with all I had.
I took off. Mile 20. Mile 21. Mile 22. And then a burst of energy. I was still behind our goal time for 22 miles but I had gained time over the past three miles. I was catching up, making up lost ground. Now to continue, but could I really make up all the time. Who cared. All there was left to do was run. And so I ran.
Mile 23. Mile 24. Mile 25 and then I saw the red and blue shirt I’d been running next to for the first nineteen miles. There my friend was. Just a couple strides in front of me. I wooted. And strode up next to her. She smiled without turning to look. We passed the milemarker for mile 26.
Then she turned and looked at me and said, I don’t know if we can make it but I’m choosing to believe we can. And then she took off as fast as I can remember her ever running after we’d completed 20+ miles and I followed her. At the finish line she was in front and I behind and the clock. Well, it agreed with us. We’d done it. We’d qualified to run at Boston.
What if I can’t yet…but am choosing to believe I will someday?
As a writer I struggle sometimes with the fact the novel I’m working on and the daily channeling of inspiration are things I can’t fully do- yet and still I choose to believe that somehow if I continue . If I choose to believe. If I choose to trust- God. If I choose to be ambitious, relentless, audacious that someday I might develop the skills and have all it takes to write like I truly desire to write. Still. I can’t yet write or stewrd teh incredible powerful stories I have inside of me as well as I want to …But I believe. I do. That I am here just as you are to trust our Creator and to choose to believe that we are here to become the very best us- we are capable of becoming under the mentoring and infusing of the holy and awe inspiring God we serve. And so … as I struggle under the weight of all that I’m not yet able to carry, bear or do well…I sense that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be and that I am the luckiest girl alive for having some thign ath she can’t do as well as she’d like tat still makes her feel alive like nothing else and thewhile she’s doing it – the smile of God….