Race Day Recap! 2020 Rise Up & Run 5K
/Race day for the Rise Up and Run 5k was amazing! You all are incredible and I’ve been reading messages, posts, and emails for two days as you finish your own races and share.
THANK YOU for stretching for this. For really understanding the mission and for giving of yourselves. And thanks be to God!
This picture is my littlest guy showing off the medal he’s so proud of having earned. He covered his eye because it was bright... and sometimes you just don’t bother arguing with a 4-year old! His picture is first today because it was the children racing their hearts out that brought me the most unexpected joy. We gathered with a couple other families and the kids were amazing.
Unafraid. So oblivious to adult worries. They were passionate yet light-hearted. They were determined yet not ashamed of taking a breather (or 10). And they approached the effort with all the serious joy of true innocence.
They asked me if we could do it again next year. And I thought “Why not?” and I immediately made a note to make kids shirts available next time... and to pray about hosting a bigger local event as well. Because next year won’t be 2020…
And maybe quarantine will just be a distant memory. We sure could use a large happy crowd with which to run and celebrate.
Seeing the kids happy and energized like they were before the “new normal” was healing for me. Liberating. Such a stark contrast to most everything else these days.
“Hey Mommy! I’m fast! I made it! I earned my medal.”
Yeah, you sure did, buddy. Well done.
The day after the race, we stopped at the gym to do a light workout and the TV’s were on, playing their perpetual mantra of fear and division. And I longed to be back with the children. Which reminded me to look forward toward heaven... to the only One who can restore the innocence of childhood to our battered souls.
Keeping my eye on the prize. Moving forward by the grace of God, one step at a time.
HEALING FRUITS
2 years ago, I couldn’t sit outside in the sunshine for 30 minutes.
3 years ago, I couldn’t drive a car for 30 minutes.
7 years ago, I was told my running days were over.
And on race day? I ran 3.1 miles in 27.45 minutes. Outside in the sunshine.
There was a long stretch of years where each was successively more painful. To reconcile with that disappointing reality, I convinced myself that adulthood must just get more painful until you die, begging the good Lord to open the gates of heaven.
I wondered whether maybe someday, in this world, it might be possible to find room to breathe again. Just for a minute or two. And then I gave up hope... Almost.
This photo was taken of us in the middle of pain but also somewhere on the necessary road to victory! Which is why it brings back a strong feeling of happiness (instead of that nausea and pain that I was actually feeling at the time.) That is where the Rise Up and Run mission becomes critical. For what reason do we run? What is the point of effort? Why would we head straight into pain if we can avoid it?
I don’t have to write it down. It’s written in my very bones. God has allowed me to suffer and heal by turns. And even when I cannot see the sunshine, I will trust and praise.
We ran on a track because the rubber was easier on old joints than concrete. And so our kids could play in the field without leaving our sight. We ran with a small but mighty group of family, friends, and a priest. We ran staggered but together. Chasing down our private goals and victories while facing obstacles, known and unknown to others.
Besides the fleeting presence of pain (ah! the paradox of running!), JOY most clearly defined the day.
I didn’t know what I would find on the track. Every experience in life is different and we can’t command consolations. But yes, it was good in God’s time. In a surprising twist... this most difficult year has also brought me to a place of unprecedented healing. I do not understand God’s timing. But I will let Him be God. And rejoice in His victory in my life. May it be eternal.
My husband ran by my side and set my pace. Just as he’s been doing for 24 years of marriage. I told him I couldn’t find a rhythm. That every step hurt. I told him I felt like I was going to die and this was our actual race conversation:
Me: I’m going to die.
Him: You are not. Don’t stop.
Me: You don’t know. Dying. Dead wife.
Him: You can die later. Now you run!
And when we crossed the finish line, he told me I’d reached my goal time. I did it with my two feet, but I wouldn’t have done it on my own.
And this is how it has always gone. And it is a beautiful gift.
The Rise Up and Run 5k happened because my good husband heard my crazy plan and said “Do it.” Just like he heard my book outline and said “Write it.” Just like the birth of every child when he looked me in the eyes and said “You can do this.”
He doesn’t like running at all, but he led the way. And just like he always does, carried me (through illness, victories, sufferings, joys) as though I was light as a feather. One day, I imagine our final eternal victory together. And you saying...
“See? We made it. I told you it would be okay. Just focus on the Prize and take one more step. The pain only lasts for a time. And then you’re home.”
Thank you, Jesus. ❤️ We’re heading Your way.
See you next year, friends!
