Why I sobbed running my first 50k.

This last weekend I ran my first "ultra marathon." I had always hoped to run a marathon at some point in life, but then a friend ran a 100 mile race and introduced me to ULTA... adventure, mountains, and solitude... I was all in.

But I really never thought I would be able to do it.

The race I picked to train for was a 50k, about 31 miles (the course was actually 31.5 miles), and I found a training plan and started training.

Little did I know that God was doing work on a deeper level through this. I think I will be realizing different aspects of what God was doing, of how he was healing through this for a long time to come.

The times I had training for this were sometimes wonderful, and sometimes just flat out painful. I never took headphones with me, even when I knew I would be gone for over 4 hours, because I wanted to learn how to be present, how to stop numbing out what was really happening, and how to start paying attention to what was going on inside.

Sometimes this lead to deep revelations, but most of the time I couldn't tell if anything was happening, and I'd just be thinking about running... and how tired I was.

But God was doing so much. God was building perseverance, he was healing wounds... even when it seemed silent, and he felt distant, he was with me, working in the deep.

My goals for this race were simple. I wanted to finish, I wanted to run with God, openly expectant and aware if his presence, and I wanted to cross the finish with a smile.

After about 29 miles, as every part of my body hurt, a flood of emotion swept over me, and God felt so present that I was surprised I couldn't see him.

I started weeping. Literally. Like making crying noises and everything.

I felt God running with me, grabbing me by the shoulders, and saying that I was his champion, and that he was so proud of me. 

This took me right back to 7th grade... the worst year of my life.

I suffered some terrible wounds that year. I was the class clown, got bullied by almost everyone in my class, and was totally rejected by both the students and the teachers because I could not play sports. It was a small "Christian" school, and sports ruled. I had gone through a growth spirt that lead to knee surgery, and other injuries throughout the year.

The voices of the kids in my class became my inner voice.

I was not aware that this was still an issue, but Saturday, as I finished running 31.5 miles in the mountains, God breathed some pride into my heart, and healed some deep wounds there. It was like water rushing over dry and cracked dessert. I realized that those voices were wrong, that those voices were lies, that I was a champion in God's eyes and my Abba was VERY proud of me. That he had been enjoying the runs with me, that he had been working deep inside me, that he had been waiting to give me this moment for some time... and I totally broke down with joyful sobs. 

Like I said, there is so much more, but I'm barely grasping it right now. The one thing I am sure of is this: my interest in distance running was no coincidence, it was a gift from a God that knows me deeply and loves me more than I can comprehend.

I am convinced that God is constantly working, constantly loving, and will let us in on it when the time is right and if we are open to it. All we have to do is be a tiny bit willing, he will do the rest.

Peace.