That was one of thousands of signs we read this weekend at the Philly Marathon.  Matthew was proud to run for his brother, Will, who recently moved overseas and couldn’t run as planned.  His bib said, “Will”, and so the only people who cheered him on as “Matt” was us!  Nadine, Heidi & I embraced the early morning and walked about 7 miles total ourselves!  The free parking spot I found was in and of itself about a mile away.

First we ran to the one-mile marker and saw him whiz past us with a smile.  The next stop was Starbucks for us.  By the time we got through that line and walked one block to where the runners would be coming towards their 6-mile marker, he wasn’t far behind.  To think, he ran 5 miles while we stood in line.  I was nervous that I might miss him, because he was planning on ditching his jacket at that point.  He actually saw us first, and I exchanged his jacket with an orange.  Oranges have been known to see him through many miles.

About that time with the oranges and the 100 miles.  A lot of people have mentioned how a marathon must be a walk in the park compared to the ultra he did last summer.  It was just as mentally challenging, however, and since he was conditioned to run this distance and not much farther, it was plenty physically challenging as well.

One of my favorite things to do was yell people’s names as loud as I could and tell them how strong they looked, and what a great job they were doing.  That kid running next to Matt in the picture above was pacing his dad.  I saw them at the finish.  I was super proud of their team!  There were others we saw, helping loved ones get through the last mile.  Our wonderful friends came to support Matthew, and Patrick ran a few miles with him.  Our kids gave away high fives.  It was where hardcore meets strength to carry on.

That was the best part.  The determination, the will to do it.  Standing on the sidelines was very special to me.  Having gone through the pain of running farther than I thought possible, I can truly understand how huge an encouraging word from a complete stranger can be.  It was a blessing to rally around Matthew, and others, and say, “Good job!  You can do it!”  Life is so much like that.  Don’t we all need to be held up, encouraged, motivated and inspired?  We all need to also be holding up, encouraging, motivating, and inspiring others!  Is our walk just about the outward?  See, in running, you can’t fake it.  You either finish, or you don’t.  You might puke, get a cramp, have to walk, or maybe cry.  But you finish.  In life, I think we too often fake it.  We look so good.  It’s so easy to pretend that we’re such good Christians because we do or don’t —- fill in the blank.  It’s really scary not to fake it, though.  Believe me, I know it.  I really really don’t like to confess my weaknesses.  I struggle daily with the same blasted issues that I slow down to a walk.  Then sometimes I stop and sit on the ground and contemplate not finishing this race.  This stinkin’ hard race of life.  This race that was laid out before me by the One who ran it first.  Jesus is cheering us on.  He wants us to be more than conquerors.  He wants us to get off our lazy butts and DO what He’s created us to do.  Maybe it’s calling it quits on that addiction.  Maybe it’s calling someone up and confessing our attempt to hide our stupid failures.  Maybe it’s putting one foot in front of the other and getting uncomfortable.  I know it requires vulnerability to be victorious.

I love the church.  I don’t necessarily mean that time when we all meet together at the same time on Sunday morning, though I love that time.  I love it when the church behaves like a well-conditioned athlete.  Each body part is healthy and doing it’s share.  When one person is unable to do something, another steps up to carry them along.  I know that if Will could have run, he would have, but I love the picture of Matt running in his place because he wasn’t able to do it.  It was such a privilege.  How often do we let people take the hard stuff for us?  And how often do we take the hard stuff for another person?  Jesus did.

I love going to races.  I’m always pumped up in my spirit.  It feels like I just attended a huge huge church service, where thousands of people, some unknowingly, gave glory to God for His life, and the life He gave us to live.  Our life should be more like one huge race. Our life, in real time, is messy.  You can’t pretend to have blood, sweat, and tears while you’re running.  In life, we need to be okay with showing our weak side and letting others help us.  We also need to find someone’s name on their bib and yell it out as loud as we can, because it might just be the one last thing they needed to carry them on today.  Let’s run for REAL!

 

Guess what I know?  You can do it!

There is an emotion so deep and strong that is built inside each one of us that is brought out only in very momentous occasions of our lives. I remember feeling it when I first met Matthew and our eyes spoke to each other for the first time. I also felt it when we got married, and when I kissed each of our five children for the first time. This is a super-strong God-made emotion that surpasses intention or want. It’s real, it’s alive. I haven’t put my finger on it yet, but I had it this weekend.

This weekend was incredible. We set up camp on the lawn between Lloyd Hall on Kelly Drive and the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Our tent was right near the sign that said, “No tents beyond this point”, and the Philadelphia Water Works. It was a clear, blue sky. No humidity.

My man set up our tents before heading up to the start line. The kids and I hung out and it just then hit me, “What on earth are we doing here?” My mind couldn’t wrap around the idea of what Matthew was doing and I wanted to enjoy every second and at the same time skip to the end and have it all over with. We walked to the start/finish line of the 8.4 mile loop and saw Matthew cross, looking strong. A couple hours later Will & Rebecca arrived which encouraged me so much. We chatted, played, and drew his name on the sidewalk with chalk, hoping to encourage his tired body the next time it crossed that way.

 

By the 3^rd lap, something revolted and Matt took a bit of a hard hit. Perhaps not enough nutrition early on, perhaps a lot of things. He rested for about 45 minutes, and when the nausea had worn off he hit the ground running again. After the 4^th lap he was allowed to have pace runners with him, to keep his pace, encourage him, carry his water, whatever he needed.

Our good friends, Patrick and Mary June arrived and MJ set off as his first pace runner for lap 5.

     

Before lap 6, we enjoyed a bit of a break with Matthew before he and Jonny P took off. It was also at this point that he met Dave & Orpha, who were going to run with him through the night. It was incredible to experience this fellowship in something so grueling and intense, with people we’ve never even met before!

By the time the 6^th lap was finished, it was about 9:30PM and he put on his reflective vest for the night running. Lap 7-8 Orpha ran with him, and he was hitting some walls. She carried oranges, water bottles, bananas, M&M’s and chips all at the same time, while keeping up his pace and pushing him to go on. Meanwhile, back at the camp, the kiddos had gone to bed. However, some children from the one tent had laid hold of some chocolate covered espresso beans, which were eaten by all, and therefore the children in aforementioned tent did not sleep for a very. long. time. We laugh now. At midnight a different race began, and each runner was lit up with glow-sticks and reflective gear for the “Midnight Madness Run”.

By lap 9 it was close to 2AM. Dave ran with Matt and experienced some crazy moments with him when he got a bit delusional and unsure of where he was and what he was doing. Again, he held a couple oranges, bananas, and water bottles. That became a joke among the pacers. It was really intriguing how Matthew became more and more child-like and vulnerable as the hours went on. He was determined and yet was so weak and vulnerable and had to trust what the pace runners told him. But the mental blocks were there and to ease them we did what we could. One of those things was to carry oranges, because he was a bit paranoid that the refueling stations would run out. We figured that he ate about 20 oranges in all.

Laps 10-11 Patrick ran with him. He hit some really hard walls there. It was a bit after 7AM when he came around to start his last lap. Earlier that night, around the 7^th lap, he told me that he was going to run 12 and that he wanted to run the 12^th one with me. He was pretty emotional about it, and so I knew that I had to do it. I had brought my running stuff with me just in case, but wasn’t really planning on running at all, since I hadn’t run since May because of an injury. When the sun came up, I laced up my sneakers, nursed Betty, and headed to the start line.

He took a ten-minute break, but shook off the lure of the showers to keep going. His brother Will arrived to run the last lap with him as well, so the three of us set off. He was hurting pretty badly by this point. I was just amazed by the physical and mental stamina he found to get through that last lap. There was nothing left, absolutely nothing, except the thought that he had to finish, he said.

I’ll never forget seeing that quarter-mile marker. There was a click in his brain that went on, since he had told himself he would run the last quarter-mile. After a fast, painful walk, he changed to an even more painful run to finish off, marking 101.5 miles total. It was a strong emotion, building up inside of me. Watching him hurting, being one of the people that pushed him through the pain and didn’t try to soothe it, was hard. Knowing he would feel broken and beat for days afterward, was hard. But it was worth it. I’m so proud of him for setting an incredibly specific target and hitting it bulls-eye, no question, no wavering. A sky-high, seemingly impossible goal and reaching it dead on. Finishing. Not just saying he’d do it, but actually doing it. That is something that could change the world, if everyone set out to accomplish exactly what they said they would do. I’m inspired. Is it hard? Um, yeah. Does it hurt more than anything? Um, yeah. Is the reward worth it? A resounding yes!

I was so incredibly awed by another thing this weekend. The unsparing servant-like attitude of each of the pace runners. Seriously, who would wreck up their sleep schedule, exhaust themselves and their kids, and selflessly give, with absolutely nothing in it for themselves? Who would do it for a friend, and especially for a stranger? I was dumb-founded with this thought all weekend, and I’m still incredulous. I can not wrap my head around it. What a great example of what Christ did for us: serving us, giving up what was easy, doing what was hard. Can we wrap our minds around it? I know I can’t. I keep saying “thank you” and it doesn’t seem a fit enough word.

This crazy-deep emotion builds up in me when I think of Jesus, who ran the race before us. I’m thankful my faith is not built on emotion, but I know that it sure is beautified and enriched by it! This is a feeling of God’s pleasure in you. What Adam must have felt when he looked at Eve. What Noah felt when the ark door opened and he saw dry ground. What Sarah felt when Isaac kicked in her womb for the first time. What people feel when they have accomplished something they know God created them to do, and they do it well. A painting, a garden, a delicious meal. An intricate surgery, a solitary climb, a height-defying jump. A letter, a photograph, a song. To do things that to others may seem impossible, but with God all things are possible. That’s what God wants us all to experience.