I am a very bad waiter. And by waiter, I don’t mean the guy who serves up my filet mignon, medium-rare, and a baked potato with extra butter and sour cream. I mean I’m an American! And when I mean now, I mean now dang it! Because I am “A+” numbero uno, and the most important person in the whole wide world! I don’t think you should damage my self-esteem by telling me no. And I certainly don’t like to wait. It makes me very put out.
Distance running forces you to do a lot of waiting. Waiting to stop. Waiting might seem like the wrong term, but for me my head and body are opposing forces. Treadmill runs sometimes feel like an eternity, long runs never seem to end- like high school Chemistry which was the hour from hell right before lunch. And planks. One minute of waiting. And waiting. And waiting!
I was telling my friend Sheila after our “Moms in Prayer” meeting today at my house that my preparation has been actually going really well. I told her though one of the biggest parts of this training schedule is not the miles I run, but on conditioning my brain and heart to tolerate pain for long amounts of time. Silly, but true. These workouts have just as much to do with enduring that cross for long periods, conditioning me for the cross even more than my legs.
Now we all know I am not meaning an actually hewed slab of lumber strapped to my shoulder, because I am, after all, a weakling. Mentally, spiritually, and physically. But as it says in the good book: “when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10) In my willingness (hopefully) and my trust, and surrendering to the pains and struggles of this life, God will provide all that I need- to accomplish whatever is His will for me to accomplish.
This whole, entire process of training and running a marathon cannot be separated from living my faith as a Catholic Christian. They are one and the same journey. Hence, the title of this blog is everything. It is the motivation for this journaling project, it is the fuel that keeps me typing at a frenzied pace (wish my running and typing were at the same pace).