I am whoooped. After completing my half marathon yesterday, I am weary. My goal was to finish in less than three hours. My official time: 2 hours, 59 minutes, and 53 seconds.
My last blog was about my disappointment that my sister was not going to be running partner. I found another mom from the school at which I teach who was also "solo". She is in much better shape than I am (I never know if that is better or worse), but she just wanted to complete it. We decided to complete it together, so she said she would follow my "lead" (honestly, I followed her most of the race).
We made it, just in time. I was more tired than I imagined at the 8 mile mark; I am sure some of that had to do with the awful cold I had this week. When I had done 12 miles in weeks previous, it was always mile 10 that eluded me. I started to get discouraged. I started to apologize profusely to my running partner. I started to doubt my ability to meet my goal (or finish). I started to panic. After all the training, praying, changes, and sacrifice, I might not make it.
My running partner did not give up on me. She stayed a few steps ahead and repaid apologies with encouragement. She was jogging the same trail, but kept her eye on me the whole time.
Psalm 85:12 and 13 encourages me: "The Lord will indeed give what is good, and our land will yield its harvest. Righteousness goes before him and prepares the way for his steps."
My way was prepared by God's righteousness even before I was cognizant of it. He is good.
Thank you for your prayers. Now, I humbly ask for your prayers that I can get up from the couch.
Blessings! Amberly
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