In a rare moment this morning, I found myself looking at an empty block of time. I was finished prepping a tour of houses for a buyer client, all the paperwork and marketing materials I needed for an open house I was hosting was gathered, printed and sitting in a neat pile. So how did I get this extra time on my hands, what did I miss? After a few minutes of rechecking everything I thought … well now Ava, way to win the day! Ha!
That thought was immediately followed by another ….. didn’t I write a blog about that somewhere? Winning the day? No, wait, it was about running my race! And so the search began, all through my writing folder, back through the titles on here and finally across my social media pages. There it was! As I re-read the impressive account of eight running women, I thought maybe someone needs to hear this today. Enjoy! 🙂
Here’s the background: In “Win the Day” by Mark Batterson, something he wrote made me really think about the three simple words in the tag line on one of my social media accounts “running my race”. (The entire line reads: Walking in grace, running my race, doing life one day at a time).
What he wrote: In 1867 eight Tarahumara women, of the Sierra Madre region of northern Mexico, competed in a 100 mile race. The winner finished in 13 hours 25 minutes. Even more impressive? One of the women who finished the race had given birth ten days earlier! The “running people” as they were originally known literally ran down the wild animals they hunted for food. They practiced what was known as “persistence hunting.” (Look up the history on these people! Amazing!)
What if, this year, I paid more attention to “running my race” with Tarahumara-like persistence? What would that look like if it wasn’t so much about the what, but who?
Running with other women, who cheer me on as I go the distance every day. Women with similar goals and dreams, who run ahead of me, laying out a path for me to follow in. Running with women who let me know when I’m out of my lane. Women who come up alongside me, stepping steadily with me, increasing the pace with every stride, stifling any loss of forward momentum. Running for the other women who run behind me, showing them how to endure in running the race, long after I have crossed the finish line. Just like those eight Tarahumara women.
It’s called “the survival of the persistent.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)
Cheers to you my running partners, let’s run well, the finish line waits!