I have officially run 10 marathons. However, if you were to ask my family, they may try to tell you that it is actually 11. I was no older than 6, when I watched my dad complete one of his marathons. Inspired by his achievement, my brother got the idea (and I naturally aimlessly followed his every step) to run a marathon in our basement. So, we set out and ran 26 laps around the basement of our house – thus, the first marathon my brother or I ever completed.
In recent weeks I have often been reminded of that memory and that race. It is a story we look back on and laugh at. But, it is also a story that brings a lot of things into focus for me; the desire I have to follow in my parent’s footprints. From that specific story, it is the footprint of running marathons. I recall with great joy and envy, watching my dad gear up for a run. However, I also know I have tried to follow in the footprints of ministry my mom has put down.
This past Sunday as I ran my tenth official marathon, my mom flew up and spent the weekend with me to watch the race. Seeing as how I lived in a different continent for five years, it was virtually impossible for my family to see me run a marathon. Not counting the marathon in our basement, this was the first time she had seen me run. In fact, it was also the first time she had seen me coach. She spent countless hours on the sidelines as a parent of a player, but this was her first time as the parent of a coach. The weekend was filled with conversation and with each passing word it became clear to me how lucky I am to have the parents I have. I feel incredibly blessed, encouraged, and excited about the way in which they live their lives. The passions they have, the purpose that fills their daily actions and the heart of ministry is evident.
My mom came up with the intention of encouraging me during my race. However, I think that throughout the weekend, I gained more encouragement by watching the way in which she is running her race of life.