I wrote my last running post approximately two years ago, right before the beginning of the end of my running days. Indeed, just a few months later, I grew weary and stopped running.

Next time you hear from me, I will be sharing why my running came to a halt, and how God has been working in my life since then. I’d love to see you there.

If you’ve missed my previous posts, you can get caught up HERE.

The one place I learned that there is always a first mile to run

May, 2016

It really doesn’t matter how far I’m going: whether it is three miles or fifteen, all runs start pretty much the same way. I walk briskly up my street, struggling with my dog’s excitement pulling me in all directions. I tighten my grip on her leash as I check my watch, and my steps begin to quicken. Soon I’m ready, and I take off. My heart starts to pump faster, but my lungs struggle to catch up. Lizzy stays to my left, but still filled with enthusiasm, pulls strongly on me from the front. Running becomes awkward, bothersome, and frustrating, because as my heart beats faster, I fight for every breath I take. Believe it or not, I want to quit almost every time. But I always keep going because I know that my body’s rhythm will soon begin to take shape, and harmony will find its place. I keep running in good faith, because I know that within the next few minutes, what seems to be so difficult for me at the moment will soon begin to follow a steady flow.

Somewhere between the first huff and puff and the first mile mark, the magic happens. My steps fall into a predictable rhythm, and my breathing follows suit. Lizzy, dutifully and in perfect stride, stays to my left.  I soon settle into a comfortable pace in which my legs, heart, lungs, and entire body work in harmony so I can keep going on for as long as I have determined to go. My run then becomes second nature, and although still hard, the joy of running takes over.

In the same way, it seems like there is so much in life in which we have a first mile to run, a first mile lie that we have to learn to overcome. Are you starting a new job? Have you just started a project where momentum hasn’t shown up yet? Are you a new mom trying to survive on minimal sleep, or an empty nester that can’t stay away from the vacant room? Have you just moved? Divorced? Or have you experienced some other loss that requires you to learn the ins and outs of a new normal? Personally, every time I sit down to write, I have to overcome the lie that I don’t have what it takes, and it can’t be done. My first mile feels like hours’ worth of staring at a blinking cursor. Eventually, momentum takes over, my words begin to flow, and soon enough, a final post is joyfully published.

Take heart, my dear ones. The first mile is not here to stay. Before you know it, you will fall into a steady, doable pace, one that will keep you breathing steadily. Your heart will soon adjust, and our days will find new rhythms. My hope is that in time you will perhaps even experience a second wind that puts a smile on your face. Life will go on, and you will be able to enjoy it. It’s coming.

I wish, though, that life were as simple as lacing up your running shoes and getting used to a new rhythm. Please know that I understand that life can be painful, and putting one foot in front of the other can feel impossible. I once ran a half-marathon in which every single mile felt like it was the first one. There were many more hills than I expected, and I was not feeling well. I was exhausted, disappointed, and at some level, even mad. I was so relieved when it was all over, I just wanted to go home, eat, and crawl into my bed for a day or two. Life is just hard and unpredictable. It has more hills than we expect. Some days seem like they will never end. We want our circumstances to just go away while we crawl in bed for a day or two, or forever.

I moved away from home, from my beloved Chile, 31 years ago, yet sometimes I still feel those lonely, homesick days in the core of my being, as if I had just left yesterday.

My mother died sixteen years ago, and even though most all days carry on like a song, some days I still wake up and feel like I am running that same first mile all over again. My chest is tight and I long for her smile.

But I keep going. I must.

Some runs are harder than others. Some days are easier than others. Remember that what seems hard and nearly impossible now will soon find an easier flow. Be encouraged, and don’t stop moving forward. Someday you will look back and be glad you didn’t give up. Keep going in good faith.  

The first mile will soon be over.