running the marathon

So, for those of you who know me well, you know that I love to run. Hate it at times too, but mostly just love to run. But I am not by nature a distance runner. I run for the sole purpose of the sprint to the finish. I love running so fast that you cannot stop to breathe, feeling the wind rushing by, and the burn of muscles that you know will push you through and across the line. I've always been a sprinter, and have only in the past decade begun to train myself to be a distance runner.

Even so, I'm always in it for the sprint to the finish. That last tenth of a mile is my absolute favorite, and I will always sprint it, no matter how tired I am.

Not a patient one, this one.

But I think God has been teaching me a bigger lesson, as I change my running habits from sprinter to distance runner. I think, in many ways, I want life to be more like a sprint as well. Fast. Exhilarating. Breath-taking. Adventure-filled. Hill-free. Ache-free.

But life and love are not a sprint. They're more like a marathon.

The Boston marathon begins out in Hopkinton, a small, non-distinct town, 26.2 miles outside of Boston. The enthusiasm in the morning is indescribable and palpable, as runners begin their course. The marathon then runs through Natick and Wellsley, through Newton and then the Fens and the Back Bay, finally into Boston. Parts of it are flat and marked solely by large fields and trees, other parts are suburban and hilly. Parts are populated by posh houses or run down trailers, some with rows of people standing and cheering, others with no people standing and cheering. As it runs its course through Newton, near Boston College, there's heartbreak hill, the fourth of the major Newton hills, perfectly timed at the place that most runners "hit the wall," the painful and steep ascent of which sends many runners home. And then 5 more miles to the finish.

It is only after these 26 grueling miles, that runners hit the sprint for the finish, down through Copley Square and across the finish line.

Of course, there are some runners who can sprint a 5 minute mile pace for the entire 26.2 miles without literally having their legs turn into monkey poo and tumbling feet over head onto the ground. But for most runners, the marathon involves steadfastness, pushing through the pain, choosing to continue to run, committing to making it across the line, pacing ourselves, and continuing to engage in both the exhilarating moments and the painful moments.

Same thing is true with life and love.

There are moments of exhilaration and sprinting. But most of it is choosing to faithfully engage, to continue running, to enjoy the scenery as it passes, and to press in, rather than stop running.

A non-professional sprint is easy. You only have to engage briefly. A marathon takes work. It takes time. You are guaranteed to have heartbreak hills. But the reward of choosing to do it is life-long, defining, and character-building. And the finish line is that much more exciting!

After all, when's the last time you heard a non-record breaker, non-Olympian brag,

"Oh yeah? Well, I ran 100 meters the other day."