I just had one of those "Was this written exclusively for me?!?" Bible Study moments. Before I divulge, I've got some back-tracking to do.
A lot has been going on behind-the scenes in the past few weeks regarding my injury. I haven't written a word about it, much to protect my mind and heart. At this time last week, both Sarah and I were pretty sure I was not going to be able to run at all during the marathon on Sunday (SUNDAY!!!). It was a devastating thought. Thankfully, things have been looking up. Here is a recap of what's been going on:
*Tried to run 3 miles last Monday. Stopped after only about 4 minutes as the area surrounding my knee instantly began to burn just as much as it did when I injured it, even after 3 weeks off.
*Scheduled an appointment with an orthopedic doctor to get a true diagnosis and weigh the risks
*Cancelled that appointment after getting an amazing chiropractic referral from my dear friend Nicole (follow her incredible blog here: www.mydream2run.blogspot.com). Scheduled an appointment for this past Saturday with no idea what to expect but a lot of excitement and anticipation for what he would say and how he would fix me.
*Broke down crying to my dear friend Jinger when it finally hit me, the morning of my appointment, that he might actually tell me he can't fix me and I can't run in the race. I felt like my fate was in his hands.
*Praised God for an AMAZING 2 hour appointment with the chiropractor (who is also an avid runner and marathoner). He diagnosed my IT band injury, did adjustments on my hips (a big part of the real cause: they were so screwed up my injured leg was a full inch shorter than the other!), and treated my inflammation with ultrasound and electrical therapy. He laid out a "game plan" for marathon week (including 2 more visits to his office, one of which was today). And, above all else, he gave me the OK to run. (!!!!!!!) He told me it would hurt. He told me I probably would have to run half and walk half. He told me I would limp for a few days after. But he told me nothing would pop or explode, that my actual knee was in great condition, and I would get to that finish line one way or another. That was all I needed to hear.
He also told me to get out there and run this week. This morning I ran my first 3 miles. It hurt. Really bad. Sometimes I had to hold my breath. But he had warned me that this would happen and assured me that it would loosen up after 3-4 miles. So tomorrow I plan to run 5-6 miles and see what happens. Wednesday I plan to experiment with alternating walking and running the entire time to see if it holds up better with that approach (or gets even more inflammed every time I slow down and it has the chance). Then I'm out of time and there's nothing left to do but stretch, ice, down ibuprofen 'round the clock, and pray!
Which brings me to my point. Tonight I was doing my final day of this week's assignment for my women's Bible Study (from "David: Seeking a Heart Like His" by Beth Moore). It was about the story of David and Goliath and about how God's strength is so much bigger than our own or than any of the battles we face. The final questions had me list an obstacle I am facing (my injury), the victory God wants to give me (a race that glorifies Him), and asked if I could commit to measure my obstacle against my God and not my strength. I boldly circled "Yes."
And then, just a few lines down, the following line jumped off the page:
"Is He not only the Lord Almighty on the page but the Lord Almighty on the pavement?"
Seriously??? Would that line even make sense to anyone else? I don't know, but it sure made sense to me.
Sometimes I feel silly even imaging that the race or our training has any importance to God. There are countless more important things in the world and even in my own life, I know. But last Saturday as I was reflecting back over my appointment and how much that green light from the doctor meant to me, a thought was overwhelmingly clear. God cares about this marathon because God knows I care about this marathon. The desires of my heart matter deeply to Him. He knows every hair on my head and every fiber of my IT band. I really and truly believe He will be smiling and cheering for me whenever I finally cross that finish line on Sunday. Or wrapping His arms around me and carrying me if for some reason I don't. Either way, that's pretty darn amazing.
Off to pop some more pills and partake in my new favorite past-time: stalking the weekend forecast. Good night!