A Long Run. And a New Couch.

The date was 10-10-10 of last year. The weather was picture perfect Autumn. Crisp, clean air. Ripe leaves ready to touch ground. And this morning my mind was made up. On 10-10-10, I wanted to run 10 miles....By golly.

I remember this run, not because it was 10-10-10. Not because it was a picture perfect Autumn morning. I remember this run because it was one of the few runs in my life that everything felt "right." My joints ran smooth. My lungs felt strong. The road didn't seem as if it would never end. My Ipod was fully charged. I was pleased with my pace. But, best of all, God met me on the course that day. Go ahead, call me a complete flake. But my 10 miles on 10-10-10 was worship.

I felt God's presence with me. And it was quite remarkable. Memorable. Prayerful. I remember praying, Lord, I love this so much. I love to run. And I love being with You. How fun to be a running coach. A Christian running coach! Wow, to run alongside someone but yet encourage them in their faith, as well. (Hold on it gets cheesier) I could even quote Scripture while they ran! Hebrews 12! Throw aside every weight that entangles you! Run with endurance the race before you! Look to Jesus! Be steadfast. Your feet are fitted with the good news of the Gospel! Whoo hoo! Go go! You can do it!"

I once told our friend (and boss), Britain about this little pipe-dream/prayer of mine. Britain warned me that if he ever finds me running up behind him yelling Hebrews 12, he might have to punch me.

So my cheesy, silent dream of becoming a "Christian Running Coach" was never publicized. I never spoke of it to anyone except Brent and jokingly Britain.

The Lord, however, did not sit on this little prayer.

Fast forward a couple of weeks to the YMCA on a Monday morning. Circuit class. 9:30. My friend Tisha, mid-workout, asked me this very question. "Becky, I was wondering, would you consider something? I would like for you to coach me. I want to run another marathon and improve my pace. Maybe you could work me up a plan to help do this. And I could do some sewing for you. I know you've talked of having your couches reupholstered. I could sew and you could train. We could barter."

I about died, I tell you. "Let me think about it...3-2-1...YES YES YES YES YES!!!!"

How neat is that? So we did. We bartered training for sewing.

But as the Lord works, he always has immeasurably more. Come February, she found out she is expecting a baby. Which threw a welcomed wrench in her marathon plans, but we continued working out. And a barter became a couch, and a marathon became a baby, and this little pipe dream of mine on 10-10-10 became one of the sweetest friendships in my life. (I just adore you, Tisha!) I learn so very much from this soon-to-be mommy of six. Godly, grounded, motivated, consistent, enthusiastic - just a few words to describe her. Not to mention she is one adorable and fit pregnant lady.

But listen. The story gets better. After the couches were complete...she continued to have vision for my house (did I mention she is an interior designer, too?) and I continued to have workouts for her little pregnant self. So we continued to train and sew and train and sew...

And I proudly give all Glory and Honor and Praise to the Lord for the beauty he has bestowed on my house and in my heart because of this sweet woman of God.

Wanna see?

This was my house before Tisha. Nothing bad. Just a bit dated. And vision-less.

Hello red plaid couch.


Pictured from the front door. There's Brent. Hello Brent. And lots of red.


Whoa. And more red. The kitchen has by FAR undergone the most transformation. I can't wait to show you.


Funny story about these curtains. I did end up selling them on Craigslist. And the lady that bought them owned a funeral home. She planned to hang them in her funeral home. Why didn't any one tell me that I had funeral home curtains hanging in my dining room?

(I will have you know that I never quoted Hebrews 12 to Tisha during a run. Just thought I'd throw that in. LOL.)

To see the "after" pictures, come back tomorrow...Fun!

Reflections - Post Race

I don't even know what to say. The Marathon is over. Really, I am at a loss for sufficient words. Every emotion involved. Every emotion from total elation to the feeling of severe defeat. Here is an excerpt from my journal...

March 29, 2010

Oh Lord, we did it. Thank you so much for such an incredible day. What an emotional day. Thank you for all of the encouragement. The whole day was made up of it. I believe the whole reason I ran was to see the body of Christ rise up - to support - to love.

Jody pointed out Ecclesiastes 4:9-10a to me. "Two are better than one, because they have good return for their work; If one falls down, his friend can help him up." This defines my race.

Brent asked me, "Other than the finish, what was the best part?" Without hesitation, I said, "seeing you all out there - no doubt. Seeing my family and friends." Let me tell you, we don't know how badly we need each other until we need each other.

My dad ran little parts of it with me. Holding my hand up State Street in his khaki pants and leather shoes. I think at one point my entire weight rested on him. Tracie Ancelet made a complete fool of herself for me. Screaming and running with that big, honkin' camera of hers, yelling, "Here she comes!" Beth Boggs carrying her sweet baby boy around trying to find me with her big signs. My sister making it happen to come out and be encourage me. Then, my precious Brent and the boys. Showing up at exactly the right time. It is hard to drag little ones all over Knoxville for 4 1/2 hours. But there was Ethan ringing that little bell and Grant with his shaker. Brent put so much thought into making this day even more special. I love you so much, Brent.

Yes, two (or more) are better than one. I could not have done it without them. We ALL ran that race yesterday.

I can't talk about the marathon without talking about the rain. The darn rain. At first, I welcomed it. SO refreshing. I thought, Living Water rain down on me! But then...mile 21. Torrential. Downpour. I hurt so badly at this point, but now my clothes, feeling ten pounds heavy with water. Shoes sloshing. Rain rolling off of my visor. I remember praying, "Really, God? Is this what we're doing?"

Hindsight, the rain may have been my biggest blessing. #1) I met Stephanie. Sweet Stephanie. I had to stop a lot once the rain came, but this allowed our paths to cross. She mine as well fell from Heaven. I swear, look back at my journal the morning of the marathon. I wrote, "Lord, please give me a friend to run with on the back leg." Now, let me say we were not cutting up and skipping to the finish. We were both so miserable. But as the old adage goes, "Misery loves company." So true. We were miserable, but we were together. That made all the difference in the world. #2) As the rain fell, the temperature dropped. I was SO cold, and wet and distracted by the rain...that the pain in my body practically left me. Heaven's ibuprofen. Glory.

Then the finish. It speaks for itself. A Hallelujah moment. Oh victory in Jesus! I was SO happy to finish. So glad it was over. I looked at my dad once I crossed the line and said, "Daddy, what was I thinking?" It was so hard. So hard. But I am so stinkin' glad I did it. The blessings are too many to tell. I would trade it for nothing.

I didn't meet my time goal. But I don't care. It wasn't about that. It was about the story. Each step tells a story of God's goodness to me. The power of the body of Christ. His provision. His sovereignty. His great love. I ran that race, not on my own strength. But in His.

Hardship is a training ground for growth. "No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace" Hebrews 12:11.

I am different today. Disciplined. Stronger. Thankful.

Saying "thank you" does no justice to my appreciation for all of your encouragement. You'll just never know.

Be blessed.

water, carbs and Jesus

Well, I'm gonna blog about it. If I am going to be real about where I am, then I have to blog about it. The Marathon. Tomorrow.

Eighteen weeks of training in the bag and now I just wait. And drink water. And eat carbs. And wait.

I intentionally haven't talked about the marathon much because something like this for me could easily become my identity. It has been so life consuming. But, it is not who I am, just something I am doing. So, if this is a blog about me and Jesus, then I have to blog about it. The Christian parallels are just to strong to not address.

I have had such a great experience training. I am SO thankful for Brent and the boys putting up with me through all of this and all of the time they have sacrificed for me to run. The Lord blessed me by meeting some amazing people through the group training runs here in town. I have honestly loved them just as much as I have loved the running. And my Dad. I can't get over my dad. He must be the most encouraging man on earth. He builds me up to the point of thinking I could win this thing. Ha. He is as excited and nervous and emotional as I am. Love you so much, Daddy. Tracie. What in the world? I wouldn't be surprised if you show up in a cheerleading outfit tomorrow. Pom-poms, camera, cowbell. I'm telling you, I wouldn't put is past you. I love your guts. And Jody Campbell. You are manna from Heaven. If I broke my leg today and didn't run, I'd say it was all worth it because the Lord made you my running partner. You are God's provision. I am so proud of you. Thank you for challenging me.

OK, enough of that. sniff. Jesus. Yes, Jesus. I wish I could say that I came up with the running the race and Jesus parallels, but the author of Hebrews beat me to the punch.

He writes, "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:1-2.

The word for fix here means "to look away from one thing so as to see another; to concentrate the gaze upon." Don't you know that tomorrow I will be looking away from the pain in my body, the horrible weather, the wet of my shoes, and the miles ahead and concentrating my gaze upon Christ, by whom I can do all things - Phillipians 4:13. He doesn't just give us strength, he is our strength. I honestly, honestly, honestly believe that we can do ANYTHING with him. But nothing apart - John 15:5.

I don't want the easy road. I don't need Jesus walking in the park, I need him in my hardest mile. I heard a friend say once that "Christians should do things that are hard. Christ did." I like that. You know one thing I love about Jesus? I love that he didn't go to the Cross because he wanted pain. He went to the Cross for the joy set before him. For the Prize. We are his Prize. He wanted the joy of the Finish. He set His eyes on the Father. As will I. My eyes fixed on the Father and the finish. To His name be the Glory.

Tomorrow I slay my Goliath. A fuel belt - my sash. Armed with five stones of Clif Blocks and Scripture as my slingshot.

Today, I eat, drink, pray and wait. I am so excited. And I am scared to death. If you think of me, pray. I know it will be good, even if its bad - it will be good.

Because He is good.

Be blessed.