The Bridge Run

I'm going to try to get you inside of my mind as much as I can (that's a scary thought!).  The morning of the run, we woke up early and headed to park in Mt. Pleasant.  The race began at 8:00 and they told you to get there at 7:00.  We left my house at 6:45 and made it to park right around 7, we got a good parking spot and headed to our carrol -- all the way down to L.

Of course I had to use the bathroom, so I left Courtney and Maggie and headed to Duncan Doughnuts.  Me, and what felt like a hundred other friends...I was in line for 45 minutes and my texts weren't going through.  When I finally got out of there I went to meet Maggie and Courtney, but this jack leg of a dude wouldn't let me pass him in the crowd and I was literally stuck.  Again, the texts didn't go through and apparently they seriously discussed me being dead and buried in a ditch behind the DD.  Sorry friends!

At some point, we got to move forward with section L and I was able to find my friends!  I managed to scurry up to section F -- passing G, H, I, J, and K to start this race.  The wait was absolutely ridiculous and I started at 9:30 even though I'd passed all the other sections!

I passed the start line and started running.  The first mile was ok.  A few minutes in, I thought about quitting.  But, I didn't because I figured I could at least make it to mile marker one.  I did!  And decided to push on to mile two.  From mile one to two was the hardest.  When I passed mile two, I got my groove and the run started feeling good...y'all that is SO rare for me!  Also, let me remind you that I didn't really train much for this race and hitting mile two was good enough for me!

I decided to push on and just see what happened.  Here's the thing.  They have signs that say, "Runners keep left."  Well, apparently, walkers aren't very good readers because they were all up in my left side!  I LOVED looking at the crowd in front of me and trying to figure out who I should pass, via what route, etc.  I had to move to the far, far left to pass some walkers and things were going great...until...

There are these 4" wide PVC pipe drainage holes along the side of the bridge.  At some point, my left foot went straight down in there and I fell flat on my face.  I was STUNNED.  There I am, sprawled out on the bridge in complete and utter shock!  The people around me were SO nice and helped me up and offered to get me to the medic.  I thought I was ok once I got over the shock.  Honestly, the whole thing is a bit of a blur and I'm not even sure how long I was down/standing around.  A woman came up and pointed out the ambulance, but I felt ok and decided to start running again.

Like Stella, I got my groove back...I felt good running, but I was frustrated with the Lord.  Why did I fall on my face?  I started claiming truths and telling Him, "you are NOT supposed to leave me!  You are NOT supposed to forsake me!  You are my rock!  You are my redeemer!  We are going to do this!"  I called upon the Lord and He answered.  I calmed and focused, I fell a few feet behind a girl in front of me and followed her path.  I past the three mile marker and then the fourth as we were descending off the bridge.  I could not believe I'd made it this far.

Once downtown, I kept going.  There were people along the street and I loved being cheered on.  I knew if I could get to mile five, I could finish...but could I get to mile five?  Once on King Street, I asked a group if they knew where mile five was?  They joyfully told me I'd passed it and was actually at mile 5.4.  I couldn't believe it!  That was the furthest I'd EVER run in my life.  I pressed on and I have to tell you, crossing the finish line was SO FUN!

My iPod said 1:02:53.  I almost wept tears of joy at the finish.  Tears of joy because I'd finished.  I'd run the whole thing (sans fall) and I really didn't think I could do that.  Because I'd felt forsaken on the top of that bridge and the Lord reminded me that He is always there, beside me, behind me, in front, carrying me.  Always.

It was such a perfect analogy of my life the past 5 or so weeks:
Mile 1 - cruising along
Mile 2 - tough as nails (week before Nica)
Mile 2.5 - feeling awesome (Nica)
Mile 2.5 - fall - how I felt after Nica.  Satan knows my MO's and he loves to use them.
Miles 3,4,5,6 - pressing on and demanding God to be with me.  Depending on Him.
Finish line - jubilation!

We fall and we get back up.  We make mistakes and messes and our knees are bloodied and torn and ache like hell.  Yet we continue on.  We can't do it alone, but as the Holy Spirit guides us, the Father calls us, the Son reminds us of his sacrificial love for us, we move forward.  And because we do so, the finish line of the battle is all the more sweet.

Leigh met me at the finish line and it was so fun to see her!  She rocked it in 51 minutes by the way!  Then I looked down and saw my legs were bloody and headed for not one, not two, but three band aids.  Only me.  Haha.  Everyone says the after race is awesome; I didn't agree.  The whole things is a logistical nightmare.  Also, because we were starving and the lines were crazy long at good restaurants, we ended up eating at Pizza Balls.  Food and beer were our only requirements and they met them.  I was however, a bit sad when I asked pizza by the slice and realized that wasn't an option.  Maggie, Courtney, and I sat there eating a ball of pizza and decided the race:awesome::logistics:not worth it.  We also decided Pizza Balls might only stay open due to college kids under the influence at 3 in the morning.  Haha.

All in all, I'm glad I did it.