When I Run

I hated running. I really did. This is kind of ironic, seeing as I am in my 6th season of field hockey - a sport that entails a whole lot of running. Trying to condition during the summer each year was pretty much torturous. Sprints? Even worse. I am short and solid and not built for speed. So on the day during preseason of my junior year when coach asked us to drop our sticks and line up on the end line, I immediately started to dread it.

Ohhhh are you kidding me!? Just try not to be last, Mariah, don't be last. I dug my cleats into the rubber of the turf and set off down the field with my face set in a grimace. To the end of the field. Back. End. Back. I was tired. My calves burned. My chest heaved in ragged breaths.  As I started my 3rd sprint, I was overwhelmed at the thought of continuing, but as I hit the fifty yard mark, something surreal happened: a voice pierced through the doubt and fatigue swirling in my mind and said words that I will never forget:

Stop. Look at your body. Look at what it can do. Your lungs fill and empty, your muscles tighten and relax, your arms and legs pump. This is a gift. You can RUN. 

I lifted my head, and a grin spread across my sweaty face. I lengthened my stride just to feel the wind in my hair. I was a being made by no less than the Creator himself. Who was I to be miserable? I was a miracle!

As I conditioned this summer, that moment of joy stayed with me. I started to enjoy running. Not in the adrenaline-junky, eight-miles-at-a-time way, but I enjoyed it all the same. During an internship in Philadelphia, those three and a half miles along the Schuylkill in the evening were a welcome escape from the confines of a tiny apartment, as well as a chance to stop thinking a mile-a-minute and focus only on the pounding of my feet and the rush of my breath. Even at home, runs became less of a chore and more of a routine - a chance to be reminded of the ability I had been given.

This preseason, when I felt too tired to keep going, when I was tempted to jog instead of sprint, when what I had done seemed like enough, I reminded myself of that moment. I smiled, lifted my head, and rammed it up a gear.

When I found the beauty of my body, when I finally saw the gift I had been given, when I could thank the One who gave it, then I could rejoice in each step I took.

I liked to run.