Runner. Never in my wildest dreams. Runner. Did I think this word. Runner. Would ever be attached to the name Angela Svendsen. Angela Hertica. Runner?
Growing up. I played sports. I loved sports. Football. Softball. Soccer. Tennis. You name it. I’d play it. But running. When it was time to do the running. To purposefully run. Just around the bases or across the court or down the field. But to full on run. I was the one with my head between my knees. Arms above my head. Gasping for breath.
Runner? Me? Nope. Not gonna happen.
Though I do remember. When I first started teaching. My roommate was a runner. And a thought popped in my head. What if? I ran. A race. A marathon? How far is that again? And oh did I laugh.
Runner. Then the email came. I would love for you to join our CRC Ragnar Team. I had heard of that. That Ragnar. Some insane amount of running. Running! A couple of days long. Delete! Buh bye!
Runner. Another email. A month later. Again. Ragnar. And as the mouse hovered over delete and I laughed out loud and my brain said, “I don’t run.” A quiet voice. RUN. I repeated. “I. Don’t. Run.” And again. That quiet voice. RUN. “But seriously, God. I don’t run. I can’t run.” This time. No you don’t. But I can and you can do this through me.”
Ouch… run? Ok. Run.
My hand moved that mouse from the trash can to the reply. And I typed: Ok. I’ll join. But so you know. I’ve never run a mile straight in my life.
Runner. And that, my friend, is how the word runner became tied to my name.
Runner. To those who don’t know this God Story. Those think I have always had this description. Runner. Attached to me.
Runner.
You have a runner’s body.
You look like a runner.
Running must come easy to you.
These statements. Are. Completely. Absurd.
These statements. Could. Not. Be. Further. From. The. Truth.
Runner. First. There is no such thing as a runner’s body. Unless you are one of those immensely gifted people who are able to run marathons in something like two and a half hours. Or 100 mile ultra marathons. The rest of us. Look at the start line of a race. Us runners. We come in every size. Shape. Age. You name it. What makes us runners. IS NOT our bodies. It’s our desire to push ourselves. Challenge our minds. And build friendships while our feet our pounding on the asphalt or cement or trail.
Runner. Look like a runner? Me? Because I wear compression capris? Own a pair of Brooks shoes? Or maybe it is because I wear my hair in a ponytail? I am going to stop there.
Runner. Easy. Running comes easy? Running has never come easy for me. It didn’t in my youth, and it sure doesn’t now. Every single run. Whether it is my 3 mile route. Or. A marathon. And everything in between. Every. Single. One. Is a challenge for me. Some are easier than others. But easy? Not. Even. Close.
But I am reminded. Who gave me running. Who I can do anything through.
“I can do all things through Him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:13 ESV
This same verse. On my right foot. To remind me.
Runner. I am a runner.
Comments