Mile 8.5

I ran my second half marathon in January. I loved being back running longer distances and I’m blessed that my body still lets me. Over all, the run went great. Going into the half, I felt like I trained well and was prepared for the 13.1 miles; it turned out to be 12.98 because they messed up the measurements! The last time I ran this same half was in 2014. It was a fun course with rolling hills through Tempe and Scottsdale that ended with a 3 mile downhill descent through Papago Park, passing by the Phoenix Zoo, over the Tempe Town Lake Bridge and dumped you in ASU’s Lot 59 by Wells Fargo arena. The race was organized by PF Changs back in the day, but now it’s ran by Humana. You can guess that with a new major sponsor and it being 5 years later, the racecourse probably maybe would have been changed. That thought didn’t cross my mind till I hit mile 8 and looked ahead at a mountain that had mile markers on it.

There was this unnecessary, ridiculous “mountain” at mile 8.5 that I was not expecting at that leg of the race. It was over half a mile up, I crossed mile 9 somewhere at the top with 4.1 miles to go to the finish line. I was not prepared for that steep and that lengthy of a hill especially that late in the race. Back in 2014, that hill was NOT part of the race and now it was. I got frustrated going up that hill. I’d like to think that I’m mentally tough, but when I got off the hill I had thoughts of “just be done. I’m so done. I made it 8.5 miles, good enough. I’m done.” My goal was to not walk any part of the half marathon. But I did.  I couldn’t recover after coming back down. I let myself feel defeated, annoyed and like a little kid, I wanted to take my toys (running shoes) and go home. After I walked it off for a bit and got back to a steady heart rate, I started to pick up my pace and run again. I rounded a curve and started the last 3 miles to the finish line. This lady had come up next to me around that time and we maintained the same pace for a while. She pointed out the marathoners as they were funneling into our course path, “Wow, imagine the training that went into that!” I was in awe watching them run by. I’m over here complaining about a hill, running half the distance they are and wanting to be done because I’m mad at myself for walking and at the race people (who ever they are) who put a hill that late in the course. All the while the marathon runners have been running since 5 or 6 am all over Phoenix. It was currently 10:30 am when they came running the last 3 miles of the race. I decided to “buck up” and finish strong and to push my disappointment of the hill behind. I set out to accomplish a goal this year, train and run a half marathon, which I did, and I had fun doing it. I pushed through the difficult part and I finished.

This past year or so we’ve been having aspects of family and ministry build up. There were parts that felt like climbing a hill that is never ending. More things happened (which is a part of life), and I reached the peak a few weeks ago and wanted to be done. I came home at the end of the work week and told my husband I was done with ministry. I wanted to be finished and be “normal”. I was so defeated, so frustrated, hurt, and lonely. Little and big heart breaks build up over time and I felt it that week. In the past 2 years of being a pastor’s wife, I have never felt that alone, that broken, that defeated, that frustrated, and that much pressure on me as I did that week.

In those two different yet similar situations, I let myself believe lies for a hot minute: that I didn’t have anything left to give and that I didn’t have what it takes to be a runner/a pastor’s wife. If I hadn’t finished that half marathon and instead believed the lie and used the excuses I was making up in my head so I could just walk off the race and be done, all that time and energy I put into training would’ve been a waste. I would have wasted those 3:50 am 10 miles runs. I would have wasted that dedication I had for 5 months to train. And I do have what it takes to finish that race. I have passion and grit. If I at any point in time walked away from ministry, all the time and dedication Trevor and I have spent as a team pouring into people, into events, into new friendships, we would let a lot of people down and we would be missing the point of why we even started down this path. There’s heart break in life, it’s going to happen. Things don’t go as planned despite the training you put in. People you trust will do you wrong and it’ll hurt you. BUT I would rather stick around to see it through and finish what we set out to do (encourage and give people community and hope) than to pack up our stuff and go home because a few things didn’t pan out the way we wanted. Because if I look closely, there are more great moments and aspects of ministry than bad. At times, the bad moments hurt terribly and are harder to forget than the good. But most of all, I’m not going to believe the lie that I don’t have any more love or effort left to give. Above all, I’m not going to believe the lie that I’m not cut out to be married to a pastor.

I had good talks with a few close friends and family members the next couple of days. I still genuinely want to be a part of ministry. I still have more to give. Trevor and I still have visions, goals, and dreams to fulfill. Something burns inside me that I can’t put out and makes me stay. I was reminded by a dear friend and family member that when you get to that hill of hurt and pain, where it’s hard and you think you can’t take anymore, if you push through, you find growth through the mess along with the reason why you keep pushing on. I have a whole youth group full of teenagers that give me a reason to keep showing up, despite the fleeting feelings of defeat and being mediocre as a leader.

I don’t want to quit ministry. I will never stop running up and down hills (I prefer a small incline and flat winding roads, but hills happen). I love both too much and my life would be boring and unfulfilling. So, to those of you also going through life, and it just keeps getting harder and harder, I won’t lie; I don’t know when it will end. I do know that it’s okay to ask for help, it’s okay to see a professional, it’s okay to feel lost, it’s okay if your spirit is broken, it’s also okay if you feel broken, and it’s okay if you don’t know who you are anymore. But it’s also okay to keep showing up and to keep searching despite feeling like you don’t have what it takes. I’m encouraging you to keep going. Dig deep. Catch your breath. And keep striving. Keep pushing. Because what’s over that hill may be worth all the hurt. You’ll never know unless you finish. We all have some mountain at mile 8.5 where we believe the lie that we have nothing left. My wish is that you find happiness and fulfillment in the good moments, and I hope that you prove yourself wrong when you think you have nothing left, and you keep going.  

Shalom,

Rachelle