Miles 5–6

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:1–2

The training barn has disappeared behind me. The sound of grinding gravel beneath my feet continues its rhythm, alerting the creatures around me that they are not alone.

The path from the training barn is a straight line to the old horse track. At one point, I stop to try and take a “creative” photo of the path with my camera. I get down on my knees low to the ground, and then a runner comes into view. I get up, wiping the encrusted mixture of pebbles, dirt, and tiny debris from my legs and knees, awkwardly waiting for him to run past me. I don’t think I realized how far away he actually was because it felt like forever before he finally passed me. I imagined myself running and being annoyed at a person with a camera trying to speed up. He passes me. I try to take the photo and continue walking. He is the last runner I see on this part of the path. Does the photo turn out? No, because I’m wearing shorts and the tiny rocks and pebbles are digging into my knees. I give up when my idea and reality are no longer matching. I continue onward.

Both sides of the trail are lined with trees. Slowly, a small fence comes into view, then the first red-and-white quarter-mile pole. I smile to myself. I text a photo of the red-and-white pole to my husband and parents, letting them know I’d made it and that the trail was taking longer than I remembered as a child.

I make my way along the race track, noting each pole indicating the distance I have walked. To be honest, I didn’t pay much attention to the signs. The feeling that this walk seems longer than I remember lingers, following me around the track.

I look for the old grandstand and start line from when I was a child. An image of horses thundering down the track, people cheering and yelling, enters my mind as I wonder what it would have been like to be here watching horses race when the track was functioning.

I see the red-and-black finish/start pole. As I come to it, I see an old sign for the grandstand and learn that it has been taken down. I take a moment to look at the informational signs, then head back toward the entrance of the track.

When the starting pole is out of sight, I hit my first wall.

Until this moment, I had good energy, and my muscles were tight but manageable. I suddenly felt like I didn’t want to keep walking and found myself filled with fatigue. This first barrier was mostly mental. I knew it was fatigue from my lack of sleep.

“Guide my steps,” the thought repeats in my mind as I continue to put one foot in front of the other.

As I approached the exit of the race track, I decided to check the distance I had walked on my phone and saw the number five. I laugh at myself. I text my husband that I miscalculated the distance, but I am doing well.

I have a tendency to not remember how long or difficult something is, or I find the difficult parts amusing once they are a memory. I begin reflecting on this, and the word endurance comes to my mind.

We have a medal holder for all of our race medals in our dining room. Above the hanging medals says:

Endurance: The power to withstand pain or hardships; the ability to continue despite fatigue, stress, or adverse conditions.

As I picture the sign and its definition, it hits me that one of my strengths is endurance. I have the ability to make it through challenges or difficulties and stay standing, whether it is a season, goal, half marathon, or a nine-mile walk. I can remain patient despite the circumstances, pain, or stress involved. I don’t give up. I keep hope and can stay the course even when everything around me is crumbling.

I love challenging myself and pushing my limits. I think it is important to be comfortable with ourselves enough to know our strengths. I continue to think on the last few years of my life and the different seasons I have experienced.

I don’t believe anyone gets to a point in life where they arrive and are perfect. It’s wise to know your strengths, be confident in them, but also to learn your weaknesses and befriend them.

Throughout this walk, I have been unlearning things. I think I’m unlearning that endurance is always a virtue. There are weaknesses that can be found in it if we are not careful.

Endurance allows us to survive hardships or seasons, but if it goes unchecked, it can leave us in seasons, places, and rooms longer than is healthy or that we have outgrown. Maybe the weakness of endurance is a fear of quitting?

Our culture seems filled with negative messages toward those who learn when it’s time to be done.

As I continued walking, I found myself wondering about Hebrews 12:1–2. When it says, “let us lay aside every weight and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us,” I wondered if some of those “weights” could be burdens, seasons, people, places, or expectations that keep us from faithfully running the race God has set before us.

Maybe wisdom isn’t just learning how to endure. Maybe it’s also learning what God is asking us to lay down.