The doctor taped up my right ankle, pink and green, and I thought somehow he knew that would make me happy and please my preppy aesthetic. Later that day I taped up my left ankle with more pink tape. I continued to prepare for race day despite the agonizing pain in my stomach. Stupid ulcer. I didn't know how I'd complete 13.1 miles of the Portland half marathon in the morning, but to get the goodies I had to finish the race. It was completely foolish; my stubborn pride would not allow me to quit. I refuse to let my body keep me from doing what I want, living my life. I felt fine in the morning, and all during the race. Frequently, internally saying, "Take that you stupid ulcer! You can't keep me down!"
I finished the race.
Improved my time even.
And, I got the goodies - a pretty finishers medal, coin, pendant, and a not so pretty finishers shirt.
But I wonder, where is that same tenacity for my spiritual life? The determination to overcome the obstacles and hurdles? The perseverance to log the long hours training and building the foundation? Is my focus on the finish line, my goal on the best goodies - to hear "well done, my good and faithful servant?"
Which race am I running? Which one really matters?
{This post is part of
Lisa-Jo Baker's Five Minute Friday's}
