“I just can’t do this! But maybe I’ll go a little further next to my friends.”
A few months ago, some church friends, along with my wife and I, made an emotionally impulsive decision to sign up for the LA Marathon. We were so young and naïve back then (all ten months ago). With so many people making health goals on their social media posts, friends running and taking memorable adventures, we all were convinced that we too should do something grand. And of course, a 26.2-mile marathon naturally felt like an achievable target to celebrate in this season of our mid-lives (I hope you can sense the sarcasm dripping off the page).
Fast forward some months later, quite a few miles under our feet, less than two weeks till the big day, and reality has set in. What were we all thinking?! Was there none among us with enough common sense to say, “This is not a good idea.” With a deep measure of vulnerability, I must share that I am scared to death!
The thing is, every long run we’ve taken has felt like a mammoth challenge. My knees ache. My feet are sore. My hips hate me. If it were not for my friends – Melanie (wife), Marni, Linda (sister), Barbara, Carlos, Ben, Kalmani, and Rhea – doing this journey with me, complaining, joking, laughing, cheering, and crying all the way, I would have given up long ago.
Recently a couple of us ventured to do 18 miles and around mile 15 my lower body started to give up on me. With every stride my joints let me know they despised my choice to do this to them. My legs were disappointed with my cavalier compulsion to act like I’m still in my 20’s. I was in more pain than any of my previous runs and I just wanted to give up. Normally I’m the talkative, positive, hype person in the group, but I had hit a wall, and it felt so bleak and impossible to get over. I didn’t want to go on. Three miles had never felt so far!
It was at this moment, for the first time in all these months, that I felt really torn about the whole thing. Can I do it, or do I just give up? Literally, I was ready to give it all up. Everything in me said to just stop moving. I thought to ask Melanie to finish the run and then pick me up in the car afterwards. I considered dialing up for an Uber ride. I even contemplated just laying down on the sidewalk. I was finished! The voice in my head was now yelling, “We just cannot do this.” Why was I putting myself through so much pain, and wasting hours of my life that I could use for more important matters. Not to mention, people have actually died from such activities. I should just say “no” to the rest of this painful run, and for that matter, to the marathon as well.
I was torn, broken, and over it. Then something strange happened. I guess you could call it a mending moment. I found my feet slowly continuing forward through the pain. While the discouragement was pulling me away from my goal of 18 miles, the whole of my body and heart leaned into the strength and company of my friends to lead me home. I was just inching forward one step at a time, borrowing courage and inspiration from my friends. I was following the feet and pace of the ladies I was jogging with. Their steps became mine. Their stride held me to task. Through their own pain, they lent me their courage, and together we finished our 18 miles. I would not have made it alone, but next to my friends I just kept going a little further.
I was torn to pieces at mile 15, and my friends kept mending me back together in small increments until we got to our finish line. God mended my tearing in those final three miles and continues to mend my tearing as I get closer to this marathon, through my friends.
Ecclesiastes 4:12 says it best this way: “By yourself you’re unprotected. With a friend you can face the worst. Can you round up a third? A three-stranded rope isn’t easily snapped.” (The Message)
I think, much like life, good and healthy relationships, friendships, and community can be a mending balm from God, even while we may be in the middle of the tearing. Don’t go it alone; that is a recipe for disaster. Pray for, build, and nurture good and healthy relationships.
I’m still feeling torn over this marathon. Will I make it? Will I break? Should I give up? Will it be the worst? Maybe, but with my friends, as we have done each time before, on that day we’ll keep together, holding each other up through our shared struggles and pains, borrowing courage from one another to take one more step, go just a little further, and carry each other all the way to the finish line.
If you see me around after March 16 and I’m not dead, feel free to ask how the marathon went. I might have a story or two about how God kept mending all of us together all the way to the finish line.
Iki Taimi serves as lead pastor of the La Sierra University Church.