Last Fall I ran a half marathon.
It was hosted in a nearby town from where I live.
It wasn’t a highly advertised race, but because it was close to where I live and it was taking place at a time that I was wanting to run a half marathon, I signed up.
I trained well for this race, having already run a half marathon and a full marathon before years prior. The difference this time around, a part from being older now, was that I had recovered from a slight knee injury and fully made it through my healing journey with trauma therapy.
I ran stronger than I had ever run in my training. I felt calm. I felt ready to run this race.
Saturday morning of the race I felt excitement and some nerves. The weather was a nice cool temperature, but it was also drizzling with rain. Hopefully, there would not be any heavy showers or thunder and lightning.
My husband drove me to the race. He was more than willing to be my cheerleader for this event as he had been before. Upon arriving to the race, however, we quickly noticed not a lot of cars in the parking lot designated for the race.
I thought it might have been cancelled because of the weather.
Yet, there were a few participants walking around and some even warming up.
My husband and I walked up to the only table around and asked the ladies behind it if this was the right location for the half marathon along with the 5k, 10k and 15k. They responded with an affirmative. With not a lot of people around we then asked how many present were running the half marathon.
After a quick look at their list of participants they looked up and said, “One.” That was obliviously myself. Another lady had signed up but did not show for the race. The others we saw prepping for the race were signed up to run the other shorter distances.
We smiled and walked away from the sign in table. And after looking at my husband in surprise of this information, I quickly felt all the excitement drain from my body only to be replaced by nerves.
It ended up being a really good experience.
The few of us that were in the race encouraged one another each lap we took to get to the distance we had committed to run. I ran as strong as I would if others had been running the same half marathon with me, maybe even stronger knowing I was the only one running it. My husband cheered me on, the ladies who were at the table, now timing the runners, were at the finish line also cheering us on. And at one time, my husband had the joy of running a part of the race with me to encourage me on. As the time passed by that drizzly morning, each runner finished their own race and I was able to watch some of them walk towards their cars as they did. But I kept running.
Then I finished, finally coming in last and first for this half marathon.
It felt good. It felt strange. It was done.
The ladies told me since I came in first place that I could go online, fill out a quick form and ask for my first place metal. I finally did about a month after that event. My husband encouraged me to do so and feeling a bit silly, having been the only one to run my category, I completed the form.
My first place metal came to me in the mail. I won a half marathon!
That whole experience reminded me of the races we run in this life. Running after a reward promised us in Heaven, as Paul shares in the NT. And it can feel like we are a solo runner in our race at times. Others may have dropped out before it even began, while others have only committed to part of the race.
But if we have been trained by the Lord to run a harder race, to run it alone and to do so watching others finish early and walk away, we can trust that He remains on the sidelines continuing to cheer us on until we complete what we set out to do. And like my husband, it is never beneath our Lord to step in to run alongside of us for encouragement and strength as well.
The race is still worth running it even if you run it alone.