into marvelous light, I'm running

When I was in high school, I was on the track and field team for one season.  I was never any good at sports, and track was the only sport at my school that did not hold try-outs to be on the team.  I did not really want to be on the team because I like competition, but because in high school, all you want (all I wanted) was to feel a sense of belonging to something.  I wanted to wear the team jersey on game day, and feel like I fit in... like I was important to someone. 

And besides that, I was not exactly healthy (read: skinny) in high school, and I hoped that sports would make me look and feel how I always imagined myself looking and feeling.  So, I decided to run track.  I remember my very first day of practice... we had to run half a mile just to "warm up."  I thought I was going to die.  With each revolution around the track during practice, my face got redder and redder, my breathing got more and more difficult, and my confidence sank lower and lower.  I looked for shortcuts (there are none around a track), and I tried as hard as possible to stay out of my coach's line of sight.  I hated practice-- it felt like torture.  But I also loved practice because I got to spend it with my teammates-- it felt like I belonged.

The first track meet rolled around.  Lugoff-Elgin High School.  My first event was the 800 meter race.  That is half a mile.  Just two laps around a track.  I was nervous, but excited.  I was in the second heat, so I thought maybe I would do okay.

Toes to the start.  A loud bang.  Legs pumping hard.  Chest heaving.

During the first lap, I struggled to stay at the back of the pack... but at least I was with them.  I was doing it!  But during the second lap, the ground under me seemed to stretch out beneath my feet, and the pack of runners slipped further and further ahead.  I was dead last.  Way behind the rest.

I could feel my cheeks red hot-- both from effort and embarrassment.  Then I made a decision that I wish I had not...  About half-way around my second lap, I quit.  I let my body crumble to the ground as if I had passed out, and I lay there under everyone's eyes wishing I had never even tried.

People rushed around, asked me questions, helped me up.  The crowd cheered a little when I walked off the track.  But it did not feel good.  I was not proud that I had given up.  I did not feel... like me.  I felt like some shameful, not-really-living version of myself.

And that was my problem for so long... I was not really living.  Track season went on (I switched to throwing shot-put and discus after this incident) and eventually finished.  High School went on and eventually finished also.  And it was not until sometime during my third year of college that I realized:  life will go on... and eventually finish.

Do I really want to be someone who spends life not really living?  Being and feeling... not like me?

My answer then, and my answer now, is No..  I refuse to be anything less than passionate.  I refuse to be anything less than fully awake, really alive.  I refuse to be anyone less than myself.

But that kind of life-altering mind change does not come easy, and it does not come without help from some kind, patient, encouraging people.  And that is why I am writing.  Because I want to recognize some of the people who have believed in me, who have encouraged me... who have helped me come awake to a fuller life.

Thank you, Jeremey Wilson, Millie Agrawal, and Shawndele 'Stank' Danzy for encouraging me through those high school track practices and making me feel like part of the team.

Thank you, Mrs. Erin Taylor, who when I told you I always wanted to be a runner on that youth group ski trip-- you did not laugh or scoff.  You believed I could, just as much as you believed in any of the skinny girls.

Thank you to my college roommate Mandy Love, who encouraged me more than you ever know by just telling me that I smell sweaty after a run.  And thanks for letting me borrow so much of your running gear. :) I remember freshman year when I had run half a mile on a tread mill and you were proud of me and you made me feel accomplished, even though you had run 6 miles that day.  I never felt belittled even though you are way better than me.  Only encouragement pours out of you.

Alpha Sigma Gamma 5k.

Thank you to the Goodman family, and all of my crazy friends who made Red Flannel run such a fun race experience.  Kathleen, your love, your passion, and your family inspire me even now to run with more perseverance the race marked out for me-- more perseverance towards the full life.  Krista, Josh, Meegs, Nat, Claire and everyone else... your love and friendship made Red Flannel one of my favorite college memories.  I will forever think nostalgically of red body paint and tighty-whities.  That first year might have been the first time I had ever run 3 consecutive miles in my life.

First and second Red Flannel Run.

Thank you, Angie Whitlatch-Seals and Katie Hamilton-Jolliffe for training with me for my first half marathon.  I would not-- could not-- have done it without your accountability and support, and that is the truth.  Each long run was a new lifetime accomplishment, and you two will forever be a part of that in my heart.

Rock the Parkway.  My first half marathon.

Thank you, Meegan, for finishing up the last of those eleven miles with me on that cold Kirksville day.  When I had no strength left, you gave me more.  You have shown me Jesus in so many ways, but that day is one of the most special to me.

Thank you, Matt and Tony and my other Haliburton boys for making me feel honored.  Sometimes, I still think of myself as that girl who cant even make it around the second lap, so thank you for inviting me to race with you.  Being counted worthy to do so means so much to me and reminds me how far I have come.

Kirksville Twilight Run 5k

Thank you, Dana Bruxvoort.  You have enriched my life here in Thailand in so many ways, and peer-pressuring me into the Bangkok half marathon was one them.  You know I would not have done it without you.  You, my friend, push me towards the goal set before us with the love of a sister.  Together forever. :)

Bangkok Half Marathon.

And thank you to my future FULL marathon running buddies-- Michelle Curtright and Aubrey Balk (right guys?!....).  26.2 awaits us, ladies.  Passion awaits.  The full life awaits.  Let's live it.

It feels very different now than when I was in high school to place my toes at the start line.  There is a loud bang.  Legs pump in rhythm to the heart beat.  Lungs fill deeply and let out slow.  I cannot tell you how good it feels to look 13.1 miles into the distance and say to yourself "bring me the horizon." 

I cannot tell you how wonderful it feels to look into the future and say to yourself "go live."