Perspective.

Those who know me, know I love this word. The depth of its meaning will either keep me in the drudgery and mediocracy of my life, or it will give me wings to soar far beyond anything I could ever imagine. I love weighty words. Words that help me understand and name my own thoughts and emotions. I love being able to verbally process change in my mind. This is one of those words.  

A word that has, when used positively, given me clarity of mind and the capacity to change the way I perceive strongholds in my life. One that has given me the ability to overcome and take victories in the bloodiest of battles. One that has changed the way I respond and react and given me a fresh new outlook on so many areas of my life. One that has helped me (and is still helping me, because let's face it, I still have a loooooong way to go) take my eyes off myself and put them on Jesus.

But it's also been my greatest downfall.

When I walk in my default perspective, it tends to not be so awesome. The perspective that causes me to long for where I want to be, instead of being content where I am. The one that constantly reminds me of my shortcomings and how I feel like a failure when I have to fight the same battle for the 13,049,284th time because I still can't get it right and I can't understand how I could be so willing, yet so weak simultaneously.

Why, God?!

Why do I love you so much yet struggle so deeply? Why is it so hard for me to give up what is so temporal and meaningless so I can receive so much more of what I REALLY want, which is more of Your lasting, sweet blessings that come from yielding to You instead of to me?

Perspective is a powerful piece of wisdom that is a force to be reckoned with when used in harmony with the Truth of the Word and the Holy Spirit. And I’m strengthening these spiritual muscles so that yielding to Jesus becomes more second nature and less of an internal battle.

A few weeks ago I pinned on a race number for the first time in about 2.5 years. I ran a 15k trail run with the hubs. It's not the longest race I've ever run, but it was certainly the fastest...by far, without comparison.

There are several reasons this was a special race for me. One being that I got to run it with my favorite person and for the first time ever I was actually making him work to keep up and that NEVER happens. (And since we’re talking about perspective, I guess I’ll mention he did run 50 miles the day before, so yeah. ;) But it was also my favorite because it was the first time in a decade where I was able to push myself and see the fruit of my hard work in the gym over the last year.

The last 10 years have blessed me with three of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen. But life giving isn't free. Between babies and some other procedures, my body has needed years of healing. So about the middle of 2022 was the first time that I had been able to push my body without feeling pain in places I shouldn't. And that feels really good.

When things get hard in life, our tendency is to go inward. We start to see things with tunnel vision. And when you’re running and in pain and your heart rate is high and you’re giving it all you’ve got, it’s easy to fall apart. Emotionally and physically. It doesn’t take long before your mind goes into overdrive and you start to question all your life decisions and why the heck you ever signed up to do something like this. I would say that this was basically my mindset in the past. I can grind out and I thrive in chaos, but physical endurance is a mind game and what I have struggled with forever…. until recently.

I had one agenda and one goal for this race. Run my heart out and have fun doing it, while blessing God for who He is and what He has done for me.  

There is one person Who has healed my body from more complications that I care to lay out for you in this blog, and has given me the ability to not just use my pure strength, but my weak lungs to do what I thought I would never be able to do.

In the gym, we never give it our all for the entire workout. There may be glimpses of full effort (even though we've learned that Heather does not get to read the words "to failure" because I will take them literally and I have a knack of overdoing it and then rendering a body part useless for about a week after) but we never push to the max. So it was actually something I had to tell myself over and over when I was getting really tired. "You can rest at the finish line!" About mile 8 was the first time I really looked at my watch. I could see the finish and I about fell off the mountain when I saw my time. I was in shock.

Coming into the finish line I was pushing as hard as my exhausted body could go, and I smiled at the last camera man and finished one second ahead of Kjay ;)

You could say I left everything out on Badger that day because I was in the red zone for over an hour (90-99% of my max heart rate -- that's not easy).

Now I didn't win any medals, but my pace was faster than any training pace I ever had (by far) and I blew myself away with how easy 1800 feel of elevation gain felt. My legs never fatigued and I felt strong. My lungs are a different story, but they made it and I set the bar high for myself.

I ran almost 9 miles and climbed 1800 feet in 1 hour and 38 minutes.

I’m still fully grasping this accomplishment. For being such a slow runner, I am amazed.

This is a victory.

This race showed me where I am physically, and it helps solidify the truth that when I work hard and stay dedicated, I see results. But what I am way more excited about then this personal win, is where it showed me I am spiritually.

Differing from any other race I’ve done, my perspective was positive more than it was negative. I was able to dig in and pull out the good stuff when it was hard. I could keep my mind on track when I felt the struggle begin.

Part of that was remembering to enjoy what I was doing, even though it was freaking hard.

When I got to the downhill, I had two options: Reserve energy or kill it.

So I flew. And it was awesome.

I used the incline back up to take time to absorb the view and worship the One who created it for me to see that day. And thanked Him for giving me the body to run.

I said I love you to my husband who never left my side, (and let me win ;-) (I'll hold on to this one for awhile haha).

These things on paper seem so easy. But I had to tell myself to look out at the view. I had to tell myself it was ok to run as fast as I could downhill. I had to tell myself to worship. To say I love you out loud.

These things don’t come naturally when you’re running at 95% of your max effort….uphill.  

This is all so great and I am proud of the perspective I was able to hold onto even when things were excruciating and my lungs were screaming. But want to know my real achievement? The thing I will remember forever? The thing that will remind me of my growth and accomplishment that has eternal weight?

You may have caught it at the end of the race there...

I smiled at the camera.

All the cameras, actually.

Again, an insignificant detail on paper, but something I couldn’t do in years previous. I always want to run my best race, but not at the expense of forgetting what’s important.

And for me, that’s looking outside of myself for something bigger. Doing this as a means of worship. Not a trophy to achieve. But a light to be shown. Joy to be seen.

Not the facade of a fake joy, but the real thing. From the Real Jesus.

I’m a work in progress. But I want to be a light more than I’m not. And that’s my goal.

Difficult is the path that leads to life. But it’s the path that leads to life!

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