My problem was distance. As soon as I began running, I wanted to stop. I secretly longed to be a sprinter (thinking I could probably handle 100 meters), but much to my chagrin I was constantly placed in middle distance. I tolerated it for a time, but then rebelled when the coach forced middle distance runners to do the exact same workouts as the long distancers. All I had to do at the meets was half a mile. Why are you making me run three? The logic of endurance escaped me.
So, as with many big projects, ideas, schemes, and novels I have attempted in the past, I quit. Gave up. Wrote it off as something I could never do or enjoy. The looming lengths discouraged me. All I saw myself as capable of was half a mile, and I refused (based on what I thought was principle but was actually laziness) to even try.
Recently, I ran my first 10K road race in downtown Atlanta. Considering I've been a fairly casual runner for the past few months and my previous record for length was a mere 2 miles, you can imagine how the 6.2 miles went in the southern summer heat. Or perhaps you can't.
Bounding down the concrete, sandwiched by 50,000 good citizens of Atlanta (and Africa), I remembered why running was worth loving. I knew, beyond a doubt, I couldn't run the whole thing. But I surprised myself. I made it over half way. It was incredible. I fell in love on the course, with the thrill, the surety of the pavement, the feel of blood rescuing my muscles with oxygen, the familiarity of the liquid movement of my arms and legs propelling me forward.
Why do I always give up? I look back on my life and see the attempts, the tries, the dreams, the things I've given up on. It infuriates me. I've gotten into the habit of middle distance. Why don't I try for longer? Why don't I push myself just a few paces further? Why do I only see myself as capable of today and (maybe) tomorrow? Also, why do I get so entangled by my mistakes and hurts? Why do I let them prevent me from running my heart out?
Perhaps in some instances, I've been stopped short. I've been conditioned for middle distance. Relationships specifically have ended too soon, before they've even been allowed to run their course. I've been stopped on the track, willing to run more meters. However, I find the lanes around me empty, so I assume the race is won, and I have lost. When it comes to my relationship with God, I've been easily discouraged and distracted by the constant breathing cramps and stress fractures that come with sanctification. My pace has constantly slowed to a walk. Somewhere in this life, I've gotten used to middle distance. Or perhaps I've merely settled for it.
But maybe I'm capable of more than I know. Maybe given the chance, I could run a marathon. I could stop stopping at 800 meters and keep going for miles. I could run beyond 1 month. Maybe even go for 60 to 70 years.
The question remains: Am I, a middle distance runner, willing to train on long distance workouts? Can I build up the endurance I lack? Can I fight against the strain and keep pushing? Can I stay on pace?
I know I can. But it'll take time... and a lot of training. But I can cross the finish line one day.
