Thanksgiving Day 2007 was a day I never would have expected. Brandon and I woke up unusually early to get our family ready and out of the door by 7 a.m.

Brandon and I loaded up our kids and headed to Downtown Dallas:

The day before Thanksgiving I found myself registering for an 8 mile race. In June I couldn't run 45 seconds straight, and the day where I would normally only be focusing on gorging myself I was preparing to run with 28,000 people in 40 degree weather.

The gun went off and the crowd inched forward. I took it easy and enjoyed the scenery of running the streets of Dallas. People chatted and tried to stay warm. Soon the chatter dwindled and the heavier breathing picked up. I slowly started to find holes in the crowd and advance. I was encouraged the first 3 miles, but when I saw I had only reached mile 4 I found myself growing weary. The crowd cheered when we met the mile marker. Strength in numbers.

I zoned out miles 5 and 6 and just enjoyed breath after breath. Then I saw what I was sure would hault my pace. A bridge. A bridge that arched over the Trinity river, and we had to run up the bridge. I grew discouraged but kept running. If I could give birth to two children naturally I could run up a bridge. My legs ached, my lungs burned, and my adreniline rushed. I longed to rest.

Praise began to escape from my heart. I began to thank God for an able body, legs that would carry me, and strong lungs. My heart overflowed with gratitude for my Creator. Suddenly I knew I could make it. My legs moved faster, my pace picked up and it was me and the hill.

I saw the 7 mile marker in the distance and could not believe that I was nearing the end. The crowd I was running with began to clap and cheer eachother on. "One more mile" and "we're in the home stretch" echoed throughout the crowd. As I quickened my cadence I shortened my breath.

The finish line drew closer and closer and my eyes began to dart. Could he see me? Would the boys know what to watch for? Where were they? Then I saw the clock. Everything else faded as I inhaled deeply and darted for the line.

I finished. Completed something I started. I ran my first race.

My official time was 1 hour 16 minutes and 14 seconds. I ran a 9:32/mile pace!

My Encouragement!


Brandon said...

I am Still SOOOOO proud of you