I’m running 16 miles tomorrow.
It’s part of my marathon training. I knew it was coming. I’ve already run 10 miles, and 12 miles, and 14 miles, but 16 seems… big. Important. Meaningful. A little scary.
I’ve been thinking about it all day. I googled a few trails and picked one that I like. I’ve mentally planned out my meals leading up to the run (oatmeal when I wake up, smoothie after volunteering and my meeting) and my meals for after (giant stack of pancakes, smoothie with peanut butter and oats for extra carbs). I’ve picked out my outfit and gear. I have a plan for mid-run fuel (dates, nuts, cut-up Clif bar). Technically speaking, I’m all set.
But planning only means so much. I can buy fancy gear and read running blogs and pick routes, but I’m not a runner until I start putting one foot in front of the other.
I’m not a runner until I run.
Tomorrow, none of my planning and prep will matter. It will help, but it won’t mean anything. The true value comes from reaching deep inside my heart, reaching up to God, finding whatever he and I can create together that keeps me going for sixteen miles.
God is a lamp unto my feet. God made my feet. God powers my feet. God is the reason I put one foot after the other. I run for him. I run for me. I run for us.
I also run for pancakes. God loves honesty, right?