Jesus at the finish line...& other lessons from the 5K

I did it.
I haven't done one in over 2 years and I did one today.

And I beat my time.
Barely.
But, I beat it.

This morning I ran a 5K with my friend DeAnn, who amazes me for a hundred different reasons. Chrislyn was also there with her friend Rachel, but I can't say I ran with Chrislyn...I can say I saw her at the starting line (behind me) and finish line (waiting for me)...but that's about it.

And, really, I can't even say I ran with DeAnn.

It's really rather ironic because we've spent the last couple of weeks telling each other that we would try to stay together but both telling the other that we didn't want to hold each other back. She thought I'd be faster than her and honestly, so did I.

But, I had some lessons to learn today.
And DeAnn left me at mile 1.
The girl never stopped.
AMAZING.

I started thinking, "okay, Laurel, just keep her in sight. You don't have to run her pace but keep running and just keep her in sight."

That didn't last long.
I got a weird pull in my right ankle but kept going.
DeAnn, however, was no longer my marker for the run...
that had now turned into a really really slow jog.

Ahead, I see a pregnant woman in a red shirt...yes, a PREGNANT woman.
Just keep up with her, Laurel. You can SURELY keep up with the pregnant, albeit ridiculously in shape, woman.
God bless the woman in the red shirt who stopped for a bathroom break at the 1.5 mark. She never caught up with me again.

But, my marker was gone.

I'm in luck. Old woman ahead.
Okay, maybe just a woman in her 60's but still.
I'm 36. SURELY I can keep up with the old woman.
I passed her.
Victory (pathetic, I know. But, I tried not to bump her walker as I passed).

Need new marker.
Trash can and a fast Daughtry song.
I see DeAnn on a switchback a little ways away. She has NOT STOPPED.
I'm tempted to get discouraged but DeAnn is not my marker unless she trips and falls. That trash can ahead isn't going anywhere and I can make it to that.

And I did.

I see that I'm passing a married couple. She's bigger. He's in shape. He's holding her hand. They have "CanyonLands Half Marathon" shirts on. Really? I ask myself? WOW. She ran a half marathon?

Okay, Laurel, married couple canNOT beat you.

I book it and pass them.
Mile 2 mark.
But, I booked it too hard. And in about 3 minutes they pass me.
They become my new marker.

Another fast Daughtry song and as I pass I tell them, "you guys are my marker. I'll need you to pass me again in a few so I can pass you again."
They smile.

And darn if they didn't pass a little later.
He's still holding her hand.
How SWEET is that?
There is no question he could have gone MUCH faster. The guy was IN SHAPE. But, he stays with her and holds her hand. "Well, sure", I say to myself, "If I had some great guy holding my hand, I could do this faster too."

I pass a family. They have stopped to get a family picture.
Yes, they had time to STOP for a family picture.
Father starts running again holding the 2 year old.
Mother is pushing the stroller with the twins.
I'm not kidding.
I hate it when people pushing strollers can run faster than me.
I start getting the chills, which was odd because it was getting warm.

They pass me.
But, I pass them.
I have to.
The married couple is just a bit ahead.
We're going up a hill.
I can't do it.
I can't pass them.
And then the thought comes, "you don't have to. You just have to finish. You just have to finish and not stop."

And so I keep going.

Earlier (like at mile 1, right after I lost DeAnn), I saw a dad with his little chubby little 10 year old son. The kid was NOT happy and the dad was trying to get him to go faster. As I approached, I took out my earphones and said, "hey, look at you. Look at me. You can SO run faster than me." He wanted to cry. I took off so that he would have a marker. I tried to be his.

I see them behind me now. And I can totally relate. I kind of want to cry too. But, I don't.
I just have to finish.
(And seriously, I SO have to beat the chubby 10-yr old...I'm horrible, I know.)

And as I'm going up the last hill at the 3 mile marker, here is what I realize:

1.) I was kind of the unprepared virgin (there are so many things I COULD say about that descriptive but I'm going to pass). I was. I haven't run outside in FOREVER. The treadmilll isn't like running outside. A treadmill pushes you. A sidewalk does not. I was not prepared and I was paying for it.

2.) DeAnn was the prepared virgin. She's been running outside. And as much as she loves me, her preparation could not help me.

3.) But, though I could have been more prepared, I was there. I was moving forward. I was doing SOMETHING. That's better than not moving forward. Moving forward, even not as prepared as you wish you were, is better than standing still.

4.) I can't see the finish line but I totally trust it's still there. AND it's still going to be there whenever I get there. It's not moving. It's there. It won't get farther away. And I'll get there eventually.

5.) This is MY race. I'm not trying to be DeAnn. I'm not trying to be that blasted first runner that took off and then did his "cool down" run coming back down the track. He passed me, coming towards me after finishing already mind you, at about 2.5. I wanted to shoot him. I still kind of do. But, I wasn't in a competition with him. This was just about me. And it doesn't matter how long it takes. It just matters that I don't give up...that I finish.

And then I had the most sweet thought that wasn't deep or profound, but just was so sweet to me.

"Jesus is at the finish line, whether you are first or last."

"What?" I kind of giggle to myself.

"He is. He's there regardless of when you get there.
You just have to get there."
And I know the "footprints in the sand" poem would imply that he was actually right there beside me as I made my way to the finish line.
But, I can attest, there was no carrying here.
There was one set of footprints and they were mine.

BUT, He was at the finish line.
He IS at the finish line.
And it doesn't matter where I am, compared to everyone else.
What matters is where I am compared to where I'm supposed to be.

And I'm right where I'm supposed to be...getting closer to where I will be.
And sure, He's helping me...no doubt about that.
But, this is MY race to run.
MY pace.
MY path.
MY journey.

And there are lots of great things waiting at that finish line.
LYFSGUD.

(P.S. The chills were from dehydration. Run w/ water ALWAYS. And the couple I "5K stalked"? I talked to them afterwards. She hadn't run a half marathon. They just got the cool shirts for doing a 5K earlier in Moab. But, here me now, believe me later. I'm earning that shirt. I am.)