Getting Back on the Horse...er, um, The Treadmill

I've been asked by several people recently how my recovery is coming along - well, here is where I found myself yesterday...

I went running for the first time since the race yesterday. I mean really running – not just these recovery jogs. And I faced some real demons along the way. Sometimes getting back up on the horse that bucked you off can be the most frightening thing. 

Mentally, I was so much farther along than what my body would allow, and as I watched the time and distance slowly tick up on the display of the treadmill, the doubts started to creep in. “Could you even run a 5k anymore, Hannah? You pace, akin to what you were running nearly a year ago when you first started out. Yep, you’re weak. You’re out of breath at a 5.2? Are you even sure you should be doing this? Maybe you’re not cut out for running. Maybe you never were a runner. Maybe you should just give up.” As my breathing labored and my leg once again tightened down, I slowed to a walk around mile 2.2. 

Over the past year, I had seen so many changes in my body, in my mind, and even in my spirit as I trained my body for the races. I felt healthier and stronger than I ever had before, and I was definitely smaller than I had been in a long time. I found it easy to like my body when it was this way. The results of the hard work excited me and pushed me to keep going. And I found that I really liked working out hard for an hour and then enjoying food rather than not working out and having to really count calories. 

My runs were my time – my time to connect with my heart, to connect with God – to allow him to enlarge my heart amidst the struggle and press on through the pain, coming to the end and finishing victoriously. Kind of an image of the Christian walk I want to lead. All of that changed when I got injured.

I loved being able to go into a store, know what size I was, pull something off the rack and know that it would fit. I loved how I was finally comfortable in my own skin, and I was no longer concerned about what others' thought. I had reached the climax. I was where I wanted to be, and I was content. Crazy how fitness doesn’t stay when you can’t train at the same level.

Running our neighborhood was all well and good, and I had set several PRs for my time as I trained for the marathon. I was excited about setting a PR at a spring race for a 5k distance. I wanted it recorded. I wanted it official and something more than just on my stopwatch. I wanted to feel good about my time, I wanted to find my identity there – to finally call myself a runner. And yesterday, as I was running, I saw the reality of where I am now – having lost nearly 40% of my performance in just three short weeks.

As I walked, I was ready to throw in the towel. What was I thinking? If I’m just going to “fail” anyway (at least fail in my eyes…), why even try? And God started cultivating my heart in that moment. I cried out to him and told him all my fears and frustrations. He turned like a mirror and showed me the reality of my heart in the midst of this. 

Hannah, you may not have seen it. It may have been subtle, but running has become an idol to you. The feelings of endorphins, addictive. The results of your size and fitness something that you cannot let go of. Your speed and distance, your pride. And some sort of title as “runner” your pursued identity. That’s not who you are. And my grace has allowed this injury to bring you to this point – for you never would have realized the depths of this stronghold without being pulled away from it for a time. You’re not a failure. You’re walking in my sovereign allowed grace. Accept this as a gift. Learn to run in Me, by Me, for Me.

Up to this moment now, I had not even considered my injury something good – much less a gift and something to be grateful for. But that’s what it is. And today, I thank God for his grace in allowing me to be pulled away from my idolatry. I’m still in process as to what this all means. Am I going to give up running? No. Am I going to change some goals and perspective? Yes. What does this next year look like? What does my new training look like? All of that is still in the works….

Where is my heart right now? Trying to break down what it looks like to have been crucified with Christ, therefore it is no long I who live, but Christ who lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the son of God who loves me and who gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20)

 



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