WHY I STARTED RUNNING

If you had asked me a few years ago if I would ever run a full marathon, the answer would have been very simple.

Absolutely freaking not.

I had already run half marathons. I knew what running felt like. I knew what training required. And 13.1 miles felt like more than enough proof that I could run a long distance if I wanted to.

Running 26.2 miles?

Nope.

I had absolutely nothing to prove there.

Or at least that's what I thought.

Because somehow, at almost 40 years old, after spending years saying I would never run a marathon, I decided that was exactly what I needed to do.

And surprisingly, it really wasn't about running.

The last few years changed me.

There are seasons of your life that don't just challenge you. They change you.

The last few years were some of those years for me.

I struggled mentally. I struggled emotionally. I struggled spiritually. There were moments when I didn't completely recognize myself anymore.

I was still functioning. I was still a wife. I was still a mom. I was still working. I was still getting things done.

But getting through your day and actually feeling like yourself are two completely different things.

For a while, I think I was simply trying to make it through everything that had happened.

Then eventually, surviving wasn't enough anymore.

I wanted my spark back.

And one of the ways I have always found my way back to myself is by moving my body.

Not because exercise magically fixes everything happening in your life. It doesn't.

But there is something about physically moving forward when you feel stuck everywhere else that changes you.

You start proving to yourself that you can still do hard things.

You start feeling strong again.

You start keeping promises to yourself again.

And little by little, you start recognizing the person looking back at you.

Movement became part of how I started rebuilding myself.

But eventually, I realized I needed more than movement.

I needed a mission.

I needed something to chase again.

I've learned something about myself over the years: I do really well when I have a goal that scares me a little.

Okay, maybe more than a little.

I need something on the calendar. I need something I'm training toward. I need a reason for today's work to matter beyond simply checking off another workout.

I've had those missions before.

There was a time when the mission was simply to stop being the overweight mom sitting on the couch all day.

Then it was losing the last 20 pounds.

Then it was getting six-pack abs.

Then it became getting stronger and seeing what my body could do underneath a barbell.

Every one of those goals gave me a new version of myself to chase.

After everything that had happened over the last few years, I realized I needed that again.

Except this time, the goal needed to be different.

I didn't need another weight-loss goal.

I didn't need another aesthetic goal.

I didn't need to prove that I could lift something heavy.

I'd already done those things.

I needed something I wasn't sure I could do.

And then I watched my little cousin run a marathon.

Sometimes watching someone else do something hard reminds you that you can too.

Just a few years earlier, my little cousin had been fighting leukemia.

Then I watched her run her first marathon.

Let that sink in for a second.

I watched someone I love, someone who had already fought an incredibly difficult battle, decide she was going to take on 26.2 miles.

And then actually do it.

Watching her cross that finish line did something to me.

It wasn't jealousy.

It wasn't competition.

It was that little voice inside of me saying:

You need to do this.

Of course, the other voice immediately reminded me that I had spent YEARS saying I would never run a marathon.

Which honestly might have made me want to do it even more. 😂

Because maybe the exact thing I had decided wasn't for me was the challenge I needed next.

So I made the decision.

I wasn't going to casually start running again.

I wasn't going to download an app, run for three weeks and move on to something else.

I was going to become a runner again.

And I was going to train for my first full marathon.

26.2 miles at 40 years old.

Suddenly I had a mission.

There were miles to build. There were paces to learn. There were shoes to obsess over because apparently runners need approximately 47 different pairs for reasons I now completely understand. 😂

There were early mornings, long runs, uncomfortable runs, ridiculously hot runs and plenty of moments when I questioned why the hell I had chosen a sport that requires you to just keep running.

But there was also something else happening.

I was becoming excited about what my body could do again.

Not what it looked like.

What it could do.

That distinction mattered more than I realized.

Running gave me somewhere to put all of it.

There is something incredibly therapeutic about running that I didn't fully understand before.

Some runs are physical.

Some are mental.

Some become conversations with GOD.

And some days I don't even know what happened out there. I just know I came home feeling a little lighter than when I left.

Running gave me somewhere to put the frustration, the sadness, the anger, the questions and all of the energy that had been sitting inside of me.

Mile after mile, I could process things without forcing myself to have an answer for everything.

I could just move.

Forward.

And maybe that's part of why running found its way back into my life when it did.

This marathon is about more than 26.2 miles.

Of course I want the medal.

I want the finish-line photo.

I want to be able to say I ran a freaking marathon at 40.

I'm already imagining how obnoxious I'm going to be about it. 😂

But I know that's not really what this is about.

This is about proving to myself that difficult seasons don't get to decide what the rest of my story looks like.

It's about choosing a new challenge when it would have been easier to stay comfortable.

It's about finding another version of myself after spending a few years trying to find my way back to the old one.

Maybe that has been the biggest realization of all.

I don't need to become the woman I was before everything happened.

I get to become someone new.

Right now, she's a runner.

She's training for a marathon.

She's doing something she spent years saying she would never do.

And maybe by the time I cross that finish line, I'll understand exactly why GOD put this particular challenge in front of me.

Or maybe I won't.

Either way, I'll have traveled 26.2 miles finding out.

Sometimes you don't need to find your way back to yourself.

You need a new destination that gives you a reason to start moving forward again.