MARATHON NUMBER FOUR? THE STRUGGLE CONTINUES...

By way of confession, in the midst of a project where I set out to write one piece a day, this is actually the third piece I have written today. And it is not even 11 a.m.

Why? As I have often said, writing is my way of working through complex issues I am chewing on mentally and emotionally. It’s how I process stuff.

This morning, though, I am writing to process a thought that my book-writing project has actually triggered – again.

As I have previously written, the marathon – a daunting 26.2 mile race – is the one distance which has always gotten the better of me. Even on the two I actually finished, I felt woefully unprepared for what I encountered during the race, and the one I did not finish a few months ago left me wondering if I was even capable of successfully accomplishing the distance.

It has always been my “big picture” goal as a runner – for me, it is the running equivalent of publishing a book as a writer. Finishing – more to the point, finishing strong – has always been the bug that gnawed at the core of my competitive spirit.

So far, I have started three marathons. After each one, I have said I have no desire to do another one. Staci and I both have extreme reservations, to say the least, about whether taking a fourth swing at the distance is prudent or realistic. Most of it stems from medical issues encountered in two of my three marathon attempts, but the conflicted thought process on the idea never ends there.

Nevertheless, it is a bug that never really goes away. Most of the time, it just hibernates for a while. Then, anytime I watch a marathon, write about running a marathon, or read about someone else running a marathon, the nagging bug begins its not-so-subtle tug on my heart.

Part of it right now, I know stems from my race in April. Ask any runner, and “DNF” – Did Not Finish – are most likely their three least favorite letters of the runners’ alphabet. Encountering them firsthand is also most likely to stoke their competitive fire to try it again.

Whenever you come up short on something, whenever you feel like you left something on the table, I think there is always that burning desire to take another swing for the fences, so to speak. Sometimes it takes getting over the sting of self-pity to find that desire, but usually the desire will find a way to rear its head again.

It is one of those things that I cannot escape – no matter how many good reasons Staci and I can come up with for me not to run it again. I know the fear of what could happen is very real for both us, especially with my history of epilepsy along with my sketchy medical history during previous 26.2 mile attempts. And the lingering questions about the feasibility of the task certainly cannot – and should not – be ignored.

But, by the same token, I have spilled a lot of ink the last month writing about pushing limits, challenging yourself, taking steps outside of your comfort zone and taking on the tasks that feel impossible. Deep in my soul, I am troubled with wondering, “if I do not try again, does all of that become just talk? What example am I really setting if I don’t do this?”

As of the writing of this piece, I still do not know if I actually will run another marathon. The wrestling match inside is still fierce and intense. I am, bluntly and honestly, not ready to commit to something I am still this conflicted about.

But, like almost everything I struggle with internally, the conflict has found its way onto the page. And I hope by giving voice to the struggle, I can both find some clarity in my own reasoning and perhaps help someone else internalizing the same struggle (though maybe not over the “insanity” of running 26 miles).

Should I run another marathon? If I do, what is my true motivation for doing it? Doing it simply to prove something to myself, or even to validate myself to others, are not reasons compelling enough to step out on this journey again.

That is something Staci has said, and I put great stock in my wife’s wisdom.

No, if I do it again, the reasons should be larger than approval or self-validation. Anything we do, we do “as unto the Lord”. I do it only if He leads me to it, and only to bring glory to Him, and give testament to His power to transform lives.

The motivation for any “impossible” task should always be eternal, and the purpose always for furthering His Kingdom by being a living testimony to the Lord’s power and majesty.

And so I offer this humble piece of my heart this morning, and I pray that there is something in my struggle someone reading this can relate to. No matter what happens, I always find hope and strength in the Lord, and that will never change.

But I know when we place our hope in the Lord, He always calls us to bigger things.

Never let the task ahead of you loom larger than the God who walks with you.