I was never that kid growing up who expressed interest in the typical sports everyone played. Soccer, swim, tennis never caught my interest. I was a dancer from the time I was two until I went off to college at 18.
When I started high school I decided I wanted to join the cross country team. After all, I enjoyed running and all the relief it brought me. So I did just that.
I was nervous, scared, and intimidated by all the possibilities and what-ifs that went through my mind. Everyone had already made friends when I was just the "new kid" who wanted to try something different.
Little did I know that this would ultimately be one of my greatest pieces of motivation.
Weeks went on and, although I was loving this new found sport of mine, one thing was not changing, and that was how the coach viewed me and my potential. You see, I was not fast, not even a little bit. As other kids on the team were improving, I was not. I had all the drive in me to work hard, and give it my absolute best, but one thing was holding me back.
And that was fear. Fear of the pain that came from being successful and running six-minute miles. To me, that was scary.
The coach during the first two years I was on the team, never saw me as one of his prodigies, or even someone that he felt was worth putting his time into. So I continued, I persevered, and I found that strength that had been hiding for so long.
I took the leap of faith and signed up for the Marine Corps Marathon at 16-years-old. Yes, 26.2 long miles. In the six months, it took me to train, I found a new me. Someone who never saw themselves as an athlete was training for an endurance race at sixteen. The long miles in pouring rain, and hot temperatures gave me a sense of strength and accomplishment.
When I woke up and ran those 26.2 miles through Washington, D.C and tears rolled down my face as I crossed the finish line I realized that being the best at something, being the coach's prodigy, and running six-minute miles was not where I found my strength.
Where I found mine was when my feet hit the asphalt, the fire of the gun was shot for the start of the race, and when I accomplished 26.2 miles all on my own. That is when God spoke to me the most and told me "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me".
Two full marathons, and eight half marathons later there is not stopping insight!
