It was a crisp, sunny morning as some acquaintances and myself gathered at the entrance of the 5k Color Run entrance. My boys and parents were somewhere along one of the water stops waiting to cheer me on. I stood there reflecting on the time and dedication I had poured into my journey to get where I was standing. You see, it had been at least 7 since I had trained in any kind of jogging or running. Waylon and I used to run while we were stationed at Travis Air Force Base in California, but after three kids, I had become complacent. Then, a spark ignited in my ambitions, and six months prior to this 5k, I made up my mind to start training again. I wanted to prove to myself and my boys that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to, and finally that day had arrived. It felt so good to be standing there ready to achieve this goal. There were about 30 of us there and as we took off, I remembered some of the advice I received from my life coach. She told us to get with someone that was going the pace I needed to go to maintain my endurance. So, I looked up ahead of me, and I found a lady that was going a steady jog. I caught up with her, and as we ran, we encouraged each other. The most spectacular motivation was at every water stop, there my boys were. My mom and dad made sure my boys were there cheering me on. I never felt so proud of myself. Everytime I thought about stopping or slowing down, I remembered their faces as they saw me run past them. Then, there was the finish line! Tears swelled in my eyes as I was about to run through the colors being sprayed, but then a group of us looked back. About a fourth of a mile back we saw one of the ladies walking and struggling to finish. So, we all ran back to her and started running with her, encouraging her to finish her race. We all finished our 5k that day. It was an amazing experience, and a proud milestone for me. It might not have been a triathlon, but it was a conquered mountain to me. It was a memory shared with my boys. To top it off, I won the huge chick-fil-a cow in the drawing. My boys thought that cow meant I had won the race. I had to remind them it wasn’t a race for me. This memory reminds me of the christian run we live day in and day out. The lady I ran with reminds me of the brothers and sisters in Christ we need to run with for encouragement and strength. My boys and parents on the sidelines, cheering for me, represents the great cloud of witnesses watching and cheering us on. Then, that finish line experience gives me a small glimpse of what it will be like when we have finally conquered our mountain called life. The best part though is being able to bring others with me through the finish line to Jesus. As christians, we all experience different trials and blessings, but we have the same race to finish. Our race is to get as many to Jesus as we can. He is our finish line, and when we feel like giving up, we are to look up and encourage one another. Reminding each other that we get our strength from the Almighty! For, greater is He that is in us, than he that is in the world! It all will be worth it when we hear our father say, “Well done!”
“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, 2 looking unto Jesus, the [a]author and [b]finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:1-2
