5 Simple Reminders I Discovered on My Second Half Marathon

Six months ago, I signed up for the San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll Half Marathon with the hope that I would finish my track season stronger. A month later, I ran my first half marathon at a pace that I still can’t believe I was able to hold.

But a few weeks ago, my vitamin-D deficiency brought me to a point where I couldn’t jog two miles without an aching pain in my legs.

And to be honest, I’d once regretted signing up for this race. I’d stressed about it and dreaded it. I’d thought about not running it at all.

I ran it last weekend, and I can fairly say that those 13.1 miles felt painful. The last mile seemed to drag on forever, but when I crossed the finish line, I had done it. I didn’t get my PR, but I made my goal time and finished with some special memories.

And I also discovered some simple (but meaningful) reminders along the road.

1. Don’t give up before you start

In the final weeks leading up to the race, all the way to that day, I didn’t think I could run it.

When you wait out there on the start line, you don’t know what will happen. You don’t know how your body will feel, you don’t know the specifics of the course… That’s why standing on the start line feels so terrifying at times.

And in this life, there’s so much that we don’t know. So much that we can’t know.

But maybe in the unknown lies the glittering possibility of something amazing happening.

And while a race doesn’t often end with that perfect picture of success, that’s okay. Because maybe all the folds and tears and splotches of ink are a part of a bigger picture that we just can’t see yet.

“‘My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,’ says the Lord.
    ‘And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.'”

~Isaiah 55:8-9

A lot can happen in 13.1 miles, and so much more can happen in a lifetime. There’s so much that God’s gonna do in your life, my reader. Maybe where you are is just the start.

2. Know that you’re not alone

I want to give a shoutout to my cousin, for running the race with me and staying with me the whole time (And also for inspiring me to run it in the first place. Sometimes I still feel like a naive little sixth-grader who dreams of running marathons, and I can’t believe I’m already halfway there). Really, I don’t know if I could’ve done it alone.

And I’ve always loved how races act as this universal thread that seems to tie so many people together.

I’m not the only one who’s crazy enough to run a half marathon, haha.

And there’s something beautiful about seeing that. Seeing how many people have put in the training, how many people feel called to the challenge. Wondering what continues to draw them back to this sport.

And wondering what unique stories they each have to tell about the challenges they’ve faced.

You step on the line, and you realize that…

Maybe you’re not as alone as you thought.

It reminds me of the “crowd of witnesses” described in Hebrews 12:1. We’re not alone in the Christian life, either.

And our faith is the common thread that ties us all together.

3. Don’t see hills where the ground is flat

I had already gone up and down several hills when I began running on a downward slope. From my angle, it looked that I had another steep hill to conquer, and my legs tightened up in dread of the pain.

And yet, when I reached the bottom of the downward slope and continued running, to my surprise the ground was flat.

The asphalt road was cracked and rugged, with its own share of stories to tell. But it was still flat.

And now I have to ask myself, How many times in this life have I seen a hill out of flat ground? How many times have I told myself that something is harder than it actually is?

What about all those moments when I’ve drawn a little nearer, only to realize that simplicity of my “challenge”?

And what’s even more breathtaking are those moments when you come a little closer, only to realize that this slope is a part of the plan that your Creator has for you.

Just take a look at the road, with all its cracks, and wonder what stories it holds beneath that worn surface. How many journeys, seemingly endless, must have taken place there to give it those cracks?

Life is still a challenge, with a road full of cracks. We still have our scars, and that’s okay.

It’s why we can place our hope in our Savior Who can seal the cracks and heal our hurts.

4. Remember your “why”

At the three mile mark, I remember wondering, Why am I even doing this?

Just three miles in, and that question had already entered my mind. Honestly, I ask myself that during nearly every race. In the heat of the moment, the pain sometimes doesn’t seem worth the joy of finishing.

And I always tell myself to remember my “why.” Why do I run at all? Why am I putting myself through this?

There was a point in my life when I didn’t know the answer. And there was a point at my life where perhaps I ran only for a sort of temporary relief or satisfaction. But over this past year, I’ve realized that I can run for something more.

I can run for the joy of finishing, and even to experience joy in the process.

I can run for the warmth of community, for the thrill of competition, for the savor of a challenge and the delight in growth.

And I can even run for something bigger than myself.

I can run for God’s glory, because it’s a passion that He’s given me. And I can run to show His love.

For the half marathon, I signed up to be a St. Jude Hero by raising some money for childhood cancer. And I love knowing that I played a part—even a small one—in helping this organization.

There are so many ways you can find your “why” behind what you do in this life, and having a reason can be a powerful thing. Sometimes, it may seem like the only thing that keeps you going through it all.

5. Live in the moment

I know it’s been said so many times, but the beautiful moments of this life can slip away so fast and…

It’s these moments that can make the journey feel worth it. It’s these moments that can inspire you to press on. And it’s these moments that will help you realize that you’re not alone.

I loved getting the opportunity to run through downtown San Diego’s roads, underneath the cool marine layer and the bright palm trees. Balboa Park and North Park. Places that I’ve visited since my earliest years in life. City streets and tall buildings, little shops and restaurants, roads winding through colorful neighborhoods.

And running with a cheering crowd and upbeat music and the refreshment of water breaks to keep me going.

Reading the signs, covered in motivational quotes, that excited spectators waved along the sidelines.

Seeing the street signs named after states that I’ve visited, and states where I have family and friends who’ve cheered me on in my running journey.

Running under a bridge to see a sign hanging overhead with the exact words you belong here—the words that I whispered to myself at track finals.

That meant a lot. Even if the sign just advertised for the local college.

Perhaps the most sentimental part was running through Morley Field, the park where our cross-country State qualifiers take place each year. It gave me a hope that maybe, after all this, I have a chance at making it to State.

Maybe someday.

But for now, I want to live in the present.

Because the journey itself can be treasured for all that it holds. All the moments that give the road its cracks, but also give the road its stories. Beautiful stories. From beautiful moments.

Breathe in all that these moments have to offer. Feel the morning air in your lungs and the asphalt beneath your feet.

And read the road signs—You never know what they could whisper to your heart.

After all, every mile of this beautiful world is full of signs of Him. <3