I have learned to appreciate the tension between my enjoyment of running and the physical stress and pain involved in long distance running. A passage I've reflected on numerous times since my training in 2009 is from Psalm 84;
"Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have their hearts set on pilgrimage. They pass through the valley of Weeping, they make it a place of springs. Yes, the autumn rain covers it with blessings. They go from strength to strength. Every one of them appears before God in Zion."
There is so much in this passage, but the focus here is on the blessing that is there's whose strength is in the Lord, and whose hearts are set on pilgimage.
This speaks of the transfer of strength that happens when our hearts are set on pilgrimage. When we understand that here we have no continuing city, but we seek a city made without hands, whose builder and maker is God.
When I was training in the fall of 2009, I was having trouble breaking the half-marathon mark. I went out several times with a fair sense of intention about surpassing 13 miles, and every time I was fairly certain that I had done it, when calculated the distance, I found one time that the course I'd run was only about 9 miles. Another time I was "sure", I had only run 11.9 miles.
The night that it happened, I was on the last day of a 3 day fast and it was 10 above zero with a sustained 30 mi/hr wind. There were a number of times when my body really wanted to just quit running, but initially I had adopted a mindset and commitment that wouldn't entertain stopping as a viable option. Quitting for me wasn't an option.
That was a decision I had made before I started running, and something I reminded myself of every moment that I felt like quitting. Before long, the idea of stopping doesn't even enter your thoughts, you're just aware of how uncomfortable your present situation is, but all the while equally aware that it is a temporary condition.
The temp with wind-chill was around 20 below zero, and my beard literally had icecicles hanging from it from my exhale and my hands were freezing. I kept praying, asking the Lord to intervene and give me His strength to continue, if in fact He had called me to run this marathon - which, deep down, I knew He had.
This being the 3rd full day of my fast and around 1:30 am after having already run about 7 miles or so, I had reached a point of such a feeling of utter emptiness, fatigue, and weakness that I knew that if I answered my body's inclination, I would simply have to stop running and walk home if possible, or worse, just call my wife to come pick me up.
I had come to the end of my own natural strength and knew that I would have to rely entirely on the Lord's grace to empower me to finish. This "ending" of our own strength is of course partially figurative in the sense that I still ultimately had some strength left, but it is the reliance on the Lord for His sustinence that constiutes the actual exchange of strength that I'm referencing. It is in this blurring of the lines between our own strength and His that our trust and self-confidence is transferred from ourselves in our own natural abilities or talents or "strengths", to a total reliance on God's sustaining power.
That night, was the first night that I exceeded 13.1 miles. (I'll edit this post to include the actual mileage when I can locate my journal entry from that day.)
At some point ( I remember the section of road) I suddenly felt strenth returning to my legs and my breathing came easier. I transitioned from my "trudging", shuffeling type pace to an easy jog and within a short distance was able run at my normal pace...
From that night forward, I knew the Lord was with me in this and I was now confident that I'd be able to finish the marathon.