Next month is an annual 5K that I ran last year. I came in last place. It was a running restart for the umpteenth time. Some might call it just walking moderately fast, but my slow runs have been good for me. I start out walking, and then as weeks progress so does my speed.
At the end of last year I realized I did too much. This year, I have been trying to pace myself, not just where running is concerned but scheduling my time as well. The best thing to come from that thus far is my efforts have resulted in accomplishing more. Choices that are mine aren’t always what other people want or expect, but they work for me.
It is very easy to get into a habit of rushing through things and not taking time to enjoy and do the best one can do. I am preparing to run the Perseverance 5K again this year. My time maybe better, worse or the same. Won’t know until the run is over, but speed is not what I am looking forward to the most.
The 2015 Perseverance Run held in Cape Girardeau, Missouri, I ran by signs on the route telling me of the sacrifices that the persecuted missionaries endure, it occurred to me that my time on the course didn’t matter. My aches and pains, my frustration weren’t even comparable. This was about something bigger than running a race. My run became a prayer, for the individuals the race was to support, and myself as well.
As I prepare to return, I wonder what epiphanies await me on the course this year. Have I learned to appreciate the freedom of choice I have this last year? What have I done to support my own beliefs? Far deeper concerns than how fast will I run.