CRISSA NELSON | editor-in-chief
Twenty-six point two miles. 20- miles more than I have ever chosen to run. Twenty-six point two miles that 17,051 crazy people, including me, chose to run last Sunday in the 23rd annual Los Angeles Marathon.
As the gun was fired and thousands of runners attempted to follow a similar path, yet with different goals and motives, I realized that life is like a marathon. The course is set out, perfectly planned, but for most it is unknown until each turn reveals its own excitement. Some start off fast, with confidence and competition pumping their blood and fueling their legs.
They try to get ahead, cut in front, be the first; others begin to question their ability to finish—to complete what they have started.
Life is like a marathon. The steady inclines, slow and constant; relentless uphill tension that seems never ending. And then, at last, the peak, and with ease the downhill path becomes one of speed and complacency, too fast for the endurance necessary for the long road ahead.
Life is like a marathon, with crowds lining the streets on either side, their cheers a rhythm, offering encouragement in smiles, and energy in fruit slices and water.
Life is like a marathon. And as I set off on this goal I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Hebrews to “run with perseverance the race marked out before us.” I had never done this before and I knew little of what to expect.
Yet, as I began the first few uphill steps onto the L.A. River bridge where no spectators were allowed, my 23rd mile was a still, silent time to reflect on the race I was running. I had faced most of the challenge already, with only a few miles left and just as I started to feel the burn of 19 miles, I had been rejuvenated by a cheering section sporting my face on their tee-shirts as they chanted my name. I was in the midst of LA skyline rising up out of the horizon when I “hit my wall.” My feet were screaming, my legs were begging, and my churning stomach seemed to be agreeing—anything to stop, to walk, to just give up. But as I prayed for God to take away the agony, I was reminded there is pain, there is hardship and there are so many times when every part of us wants to give up.
And that’s the moment when I heard once again the cheers from the crowd, the encouraging ‘you go girl’ from total strangers. They hadn’t stopped, I had just chosen to focus on my pain. And out of the noise I heard familiar voices chanting my name just as I saw the 26- mile marker. I saw my cheering section, my support through so much more than just this race.
Point two miles. The finish line in sight. And as I crossed, I realized I was actually starting my real race. A race filled with uphill battles and complacent declines; with some players trying to get ahead, and others lagging in pace and morale. We are all running our own marathon, and we are all the crowds on the side.
Twenty-six point two miles. It seemed like an impossible feat. But life is sometimes like that—if when we run with perseverance and focus on the goal, success is ours.
