More Than A Conqueror (Why I have already won...my pre-race report)

As most are aware (some more keenly aware than they’d like), I am running my first full marathon on Sunday, March 17…that’s 26.2 miles, baby!  It is definitely intimidating, but I am not one to shy away from things that scare me. 

See, when I was in college, there were three fears I had, as I headed into “the real world”.  1. Getting fat, 2. being financially unstable, and 3. a loved one getting cancer. 

I know you are probably thinking…really?  “Getting Fat” – that’s easy – just exercise and eat well. Sure, we all know that, but it is really hard.  Especially when you it’s your last year of college, you are engaged, planning a wedding out of town, your fiancé is 5 hours ways, you are taking 21 and 24 credit hours per semester (respectively), applying to grad schools, and trying to figure out where you are going to live in a few months.  Okay, so you get the picture…I’m wired this way.  I’ve always done “too much”.  So, the weight crept on, and on and on…until I had to face those other fears, too, and then it was too much for me to handle.  So, God handled it.

And God being God, made me face each one of those fears….face to face. Up close and personal. Using it to change me into who I was created to be.  And you know what happens when you face your fears?  When you realize that you’ve made it through and someone (or some people) have held you and carried you through it?  Well, for one thing, you have scars.  But these scars are beautiful because they are a reminder that you’re still alive – you still have purpose.  They are an Ebenezer *.  And, there is freedom in facing your fears.  Because now…I don’t fear anything.  I know that whatever comes, whatever trial, whatever challenge, I can withstand it.  Not through my own strength, but through Christ’s and through those that he brings along side of me to encourage me on the journey.

The most pivotal years of my life, when all of this facing of fears came to a head, happened to coincide with Ella’s first 2 years of life.  It strikes me that she is my spirited child, having endured these hardships with me, in sorts, in her early years of development.  I KNOW that she will be one that can change the world, if only her spirit is guided in the right way.  She’s a mirror of my emotions (good and bad) from the time she was born. 

So, let me break it down like this…certain “life events” are defined as “stressors”.  Not all are bad – such as a birth or new job – but they are transitions that cause some degree of upheaval, stress, and what-not.  Some, are obviously bad – health concerns, job loss, death.  In a two year peiod,  Summer of 2007 to Summer of 2009, I had over TWENTY “life events” or “stressors”.  I don’t make a point of this for pity’s sake.  But, so that you know the reality of what I went through and how it turned out.  Here are most of these events:

• Finish certification process to become birth doula
• Best friend going through awful divorce
• Said friend and her 5 yr. old son move in with us during my 9^th month of pregnancy with 3^rd child
• 3^rd child born – Eleanor Rose
• Transition to working from home
• Dad diagnosed with aggressive brain cancer
• Oldest child, Rachel begins Kindergarten (we all are learning about “school life”)
• Dad undergoes surgery, treatments
• Host dad and family during time of surgery, recovery, treatment
• Multiple trips to see Dad, especially during final 5 weeks, on Hospice
• Dad dies
• Back to work a week later – have to make up lost time and work 50-70 hr/wk (normally 20 hr/ wk)
• Have to sell Mom’s house – clean out Mom’s house ; garage sale, house on market, with 3 kids in tow
• Family Discord
• Decide to quit job, and work on developing birth doula business
• Find out I’m pregnant – not planned, and mixed emotions, finally excited about it
• Miscarriage (my 2^nd one)
• Mom sells house
• Mom has to move in with us
• Construction begins on home renovations/ additions with 3 generations under one roof
• Find lump in breast – undergo ultrasounds and mammogram.  Thankfully, negative.

During this time, I went from losing my baby weight, and walking regularly (with double jogging stroller), to gaining almost 50 pounds in a year.   I didn’t know where to start with making changes.  It was too daunting a task.  I remember the day after Thanksgiving 2008, complaining to Rob that I was too fat and how much I hated it!  In what was not one of his finest moments (or was it?), he said bluntly, “ Well, get off your a$$ and start moving.” (okay, maybe he didn’t say it exactly that way, but that is what I heard.)  I stormed out of the  house, and ran.  I was going to show him.  So, I made it to the end of the street (we’re the second house in), and ran out of breath.  I kept a fast walking pace, not knowing where I was going. 

I ended up at a nearby park.  I sat under a tree for nearly an hour.  This was the first time I remembered being alone since my dad had died, 8 months prior.  I finally had a moment to grieve.  I cried. A lot.  Which is rare for me.  I realized something:  As it turned out, I didn’t just hate being fat, I hated me.  I was a miserable person. I am sure I made things difficult  for everyone around me.

This realization didn’t change things automatically.  But it was a start.  A seed was planted.  I knew I at least wanted to get out of this hole I was in.  Something had to be done.

Well, as things went, it would be 2 more years before everything clicked.  I was finally faced with a decision…what did I want for Christmas (2010)???  You can read my previous post to know how that went.  How I started my journey to getting healthy. 

When I look back, there are several events that are too important to be considered coincidence.  Step one in getting me through all of this was the Lord’s hand in where we ended up with a church family.  A year prior to all of this, we were living in Raleigh and going to church in Durham (45 min. away) - where we had previously lived.  It was a HUGE decision to leave that church, and find a new one.  I admit, I was skeptical that we’d find a good one.  We “happened” upon Redeemer Church.  During these months and years of trials, I can honestly say that I literally felt the Lord’s presence with me through these people.  THAT is what the church is about – not a building, but the PEOPLE, coming along side each other.  They literally shared in my burdens and carried me through that time.  It was soon after my Dad died that I joined the music team, singing on a rotating basis for Sunday morning worship.  I cannot begin to explain how integral this was to the healing and growing that needed to happen within.  See, when I am singing on Sunday morning, I feel the closest to my Dad.  He was a Pastor, and he LOVED some of these songs we sing.  Not only that, but some of the songs talk of heaven, and those saints that go before us there.  I imagine that at that very moment I am singing, my Dad is doing the same exact thing.  Singing praises to our God.  We have that unity, although he is gone from this earth.

The other amazing thing about this church I call “Family” is that they pray.  And I don’t just mean wishes and hopes and holding you to the light.  They PRAY as I have never been witness to.  So, when I decided to take on this “exercise and getting healthy” thing, I asked a few to pray.  That I would be motivated, that I would stick with it.  That I would change.

And they did.  And I did. 

So, this running a marathon thing…it isn’t about me.  It’s about a work that has been done in me and through me.  It’s about those that have been with me on this journey. 

When I run, I usually have a playlist of songs that inspire me.  There are some songs on that list that remind me of specific people, or groups of people.  There are songs that we hear in boot camp – those women have been right there with me in this “fight” to be fit and healthy; there are songs that make me think of my RunnerPeeps friends; there are songs that make me think of some in my church family.  Each one of these people is with me on my run – giving strength and encouragement with every stride. 

And I know my Dad is looking down, too. (If I get to heaven and realize this isn’t, in fact, true, I won’t care at that point.)  Today, when going through itunes in preparing my Marathon Playlist, I came across a song that I listened to a lot when my Dad was dying.  I have not listened to it in a few years (unintentionally).  It’s a song called “Just a Little” by Leigh Nash (by the way, she is one of my most favorite voices, and I listened to her a lot during my labor with Ella).  The whole song is wonderful, but there is a line that says, “Love breaks your heart, to teach you to be strong. I die just a little, so I can live a little bit more.”

I think that sums things up for me.  March 30 marks the 5^th Anniversary of my Dad’s death.  My heart was broken.  But, I have learned that it CAN heal, and it can be strong.  I can die to things of this world and of myself, to truly live.  And I hope, for my girls’ sake, that I live a little bit more.

PS – that 3^rd fear about finances…yeah, faced that one too.  But the story is still being written.  Stay tuned.