Skip to main content

What are you running from?




So, I signed up to run a half-marathon this May and I think I am having a change of heart.  The question that keeps popping up in the back of my mind... What are you running from?

Now, if I was a runner, I'm pretty sure my thoughts would be What are you running towards?  And in turn, I would have quick and easy answers like a goal, a finish line, a time, better health.  But I am not a runner.  My body was not made for running longer distances.  I have to MAKE myself do every run. 

What I lack in my running abilities I doubly make-up for in my competitiveness and in my drive.  Ironically enough it was ME who said YES to this half-marathon.  I was the one that convinced my two girlfriends we could do this.  I convinced myself.  Sure I could do this, I did it before in 2009.  Sure I could do this, especially because I just turned 40.  Sure I could do this... my friends are thinking they can, so if they can then I certainly can.

The problem is, I was a totally different person in 2009, when I ran my first 1/2.  I was addicted to exercise.  I was in a very unhealthy place - mentally.  As a result of this addiction, I had the best physical body of my life.  And I crave that body, still to this day.  But I know there is a price to pay for it, that I am no longer willing to pay.

I have a strong tendency to be self-defeating.  I have to fight it daily by wielding my shield of faith against the evil one.   He will tempt me in the small things of life, like pride.  Just think what you will look like if you run another 1/2... You need to prove you are still fit at your age.... you want others to admire your physical strength, don't you?  What if you don't do this... you'll get fat.  Nobody's going to like you that way...You aren't going to be good enough.

So now, I have to decide: Am I running for the good, or am I running from the taunts of the evil one whispering in my ear?

Each "race" that is presented to me in this life, I want to have the courage to run one way - and that is on the path the Lord has set for me, not my race, but His race!

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and run with perseverance the race marked out for us."  Hebrews 12:1

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

I Am With You

...This poem was inspired by the Bible Study I'm in, covering the Book of Deuteronomy...  I am in a desert. I have lost my way. Oh Lord, speak to me... I need to hear you today! Remind me you are here. ...You've brought me this way. You have more for me! I need to hear you say... "You too have a Promised Land! Just look at my hand... see? Lean into my arms, gaze at my plans... Let Me set you free! Though your lost in a desert... Though you've lost your way... I am with you here, my child... I am with you today!" ~Carole A. Smith 10/3/12

This Can’t Be You…

I have been attending my Christian Writing/Editing Group bi-weekly for roughly two years now.   For the same amount of time I have been slowly but surely chipping away on my first book, a Memoir.   Some of the chapters are extremely telling and memories that I don’t really want to remember let alone share with others.    But they are my stories and they need to be told… so the reader can know me, relate to me and hopefully heal with me.   I read one of those uncomfortable chapters last week aloud in my group.   Chapter 3 - which should give you a pretty good idea about how long I have been holding this one back.   I have been waiting until I feel safe.   I have been waiting to see if my writing is “good enough”.   I have been waiting for someone to tell me to stop writing because it’s not good, so I don’t have to read the hard ones.   But this hasn’t happened.   So I keep writing, I keep attending and I keep reading. Tod...

The Power of a Mother's Love

~ You held me within you. I was from you -of you -a part of you. But the day I came into this world, you gave me to the world. You left me… to make me better. But you left me to wonder of a mother’s love …and of my worth. ~ October 21, 1971.   I was born to a woman I wouldn’t meet again until I was 33, because the day I was born she gave me away. Although I do not remember anything about my biological mother, I am convinced my psyche must have been deeply wounded as a newborn.   After I found her, she revealed to me the social worker let her hold me one time in secret, as any direct contact between the mother and the child being given up was strictly forbidden by the nuns who dually served as the nurses in the hospital maternity ward.   I can feel, in my soul, the gut-wrenching sadness of holding her baby for the first and last time all at once.   I can feel, on my face, her hot tears, anointing me with her pain.   I can h...