I Ran a 5K Once

Heel to toe. Heel to toe. Heel to toe.

 

This is how we’re taught to walk. Leading from our heel to our toe, one foot after the other.

 

When we’re toddlers we ran. Ran everywhere, and were most likely told by our parents to slow down and walk instead.

 

A task that is so simple: running.

 

We do it from the time we’re young, so why is it that it feels so difficult to do for many of us, once we’re adults?

 

I’m gonna tell you a story, friends. The story of how I ran my first 5K.

 

Flashing back to my Junior year of college, I wanted to get into running. I remember growing up I was never very good at running. I would play outside with my siblings or friends, and I just remember panting. Panting for breath and feeling nauseous.

Since it didn’t make me feel very good, I just didn’t do it. Simple solution.

 

So in college I was seeing all of my friends doing 5K’s and going on runs and I wanted to do it too. I wanted to be that runner that I never was.

 

It was perfect timing because one of my friend’s was training at the time to do a 5K. I would run the track with her at Illinois State University twice a week, except the difference was that she was actively training and I would just join her twice a week.

 

I considered my running twice a week as training, when in reality it wasn’t. I had just been involved in a car accident months prior to training, just finished with therapy, and still had bad pain from an injured rib.

 

That spring I “ran” a 5K with two of my dear friends at ISU, but the truth is I didn’t actually run it. I ran up to a certain point, but then my rib pain got in the way, causing me to almost fall to the ground during the run. I couldn’t breathe, everything hurt, and I felt so defeated.

 

I felt hopeless knowing in my heart that I didn’t actually run those 3.1 miles.

 

That summer I attempted to run a second 5K with those same two friends, but once again didn’t properly train. I once again didn’t run the whole way, and ran even less time.

 

I decided after that, that I wasn’t meant to run. It wasn’t my thing.

 

But for some reason that just wasn’t going to cut it for me. I didn’t want to take no for an answer, and didn’t want to not be able to do something, due to lack of training or something I could possibly control.

 

Flash forward to January 1st of this year.

 

I was making lists inside of my Erin Condren planner, and was writing down my goals for the year. On the side of my list of goals, I wrote down a short list that contained two things. This list was a list of two things I wanted to accomplish in the year, but were filed under my “probably aren’t going to happen” goals. They were my “dream” goals for the year.

 

One of those goals was to run a 5K, and to actually run all the way through.

 

I knew the chances of running a 5K all the way through were not likely, so that’s why I made it a dream of mine.

 

Some may say that running only 3.1 miles is pathetic to make a dream. That it’s nothing compared to a marathon, but those 3.1 miles were a LOT for me to run. Coming from a non-runner, each and every one of those miles were very hard to get through.

 

I was going through the year only running occasionally, in addition to my other daily exercise. I wasn’t faithful to making it a routine, and early this summer I decided that running a 5K was going to remain a dream on my goals list.

 

Until.

 

Until I began talking to a dear friend of mine to whom I’m convinced has changed my life in more ways than I could ever even begin to thank her for.

 

My dear friend Jill and I were talking about running, and we were discussing a Jingle Bell 5K that happens every year in December. With my obsession for Christmas, you KNOW I was ecstatic to even hear of such an event!

So we were talking and before I even realized what was happening, Jill and I agreed that we were going to run this 5K together this year, and we were going to train for it together, and do it properly.

 

“Oh shoot.”

 

That’s what I thought to myself shortly after I agreed, and for months following that agreement.

 

I knew that now it was official and I had to actually train this time and make it a thing. I just kept thinking of that dream of mine that was kind of a goal, and I wanted to prove to myself I could make a dream happen.

 

So I ran.

 

I ran when I was tired, I ran when it was 110 degrees outside, I ran when there was a heat advisory out, I ran when I didn’t have time to, I ran when I had already lifted weights that day, I ran in the winter months, I ran when it got dark outside, I ran before the sun came up, I ran in the mountains of Colorado, I ran and fell in the street and scraped my knees, but I kept going.

 

I didn’t give up.

 

I was in it at this point, and I was not going to quit. Not after I worked this hard.

 

And I had Jill with me every step of the way. We downloaded apps and would send one another our day’s results. We kept each other going when the other felt discouraged.

 

So after months and months of training, I was so discouraged to see that the weather was a 100% chance of rain and storms for that Saturday that the 5K was going to be on. Jill and I didn’t know what we were going to do, and I knew I had to run it. I wanted to complete that goal with only 25 days left of the year.

 

The morning of the run we awoke, and it was pouring rain. I texted Jill, discouraged. But she encouraged me and told me we were still going to run this, and maybe the rain would make it fun.

 

And you know what?

 

God held that rain off. We didn’t feel one single drop during the entire run.

 

And you know what else?

 

I ran my first 5K! All the way through.

 

I had been sick just days before with a bad virus, but even through those cough attacks while running and difficulty breathing, I ran that 5K.

 

I had sweat too much, breathed too hard, held my side, and invested too much into this to give up.

 

So I didn’t.

 

I crossed that finish line and felt my throat begin to choke back tears. And I watched Jill cross that finish line with a smile spread across her face, and I couldn’t help but feel nothing but thankful.

 

Thankful for Jill.

 

I could never ever say that I was the reason I ran that 5K.

 

Yes, I had a dream and yes I made it a goal. Yes I signed up for the race and yes I trained all of those months.

 

But it wasn’t me. It was God who gave me that strength. It was God who gave me that endurance. It was God who gave me motivation. It was God who gave me lungs to breathe. It was God who gave me a heart that kept on beating.

 

And it was God who gave me Jill.

 

When Jill had brought up the run, I remember it was right at the exact time I had given up on running. I knew it had never been my thing in the past, and so of course it couldn’t ever become my thing, right??

 

Well, I was wrong.

 

It turns out friends that we really can do anything we put our minds to. If we put the work in, if we want it badly enough, and if we have the right individuals cheering us on, there are no limits to how far we can go. How far we can run.

 

So here’s me saying thank you to Jill. Everyone needs a Jill in their life.

 

Encourager, supporter, teammate, motivator, cheerleader, friend.

 

That dream I had twelve months ago would not have come true if it weren’t for Jill. If she wasn’t by my side every step of the way, running this race called Life with me.

 

So I ran a 5K this year! And I’m proud, so proud. I’m proud of the injuries I got along the way. I’m proud of the sweat I shed with each heel to toe step I took. I’m proud of the hours upon hours that it took away from my schedule. And I’m proud, because that’s a long time to run, and I did it.

 

All 3.1 miles of it.