Chronicles of Running: Week 6 (Uncomfortable)

Ok, so here's the thing. I have always, as long as I can remember, been drawn to the phrase "Step outside of your comfort zone." Isn't that weird? I mean, who wants to be uncomfortable...on purpose? I like change, and I always have, so that doesn't really qualify as being outside my comfort zone. I can be quirky, though, so there are small things that sometimes affect my level of comfort. Fortunately, I have plenty of examples from the sixth week of my C25K journey to further clarify this theme.

Running is uncomfortable for me. I'm not graceful when I run, and so I am acutely aware of others around me when I am running. If there are families at the park, others running, walking or biking or cars driving by, I am convinced they are watching me. I know, in reality, they are not concerned with my performance any more than I am with someone else I may see running. I'm just very self-conscious when it comes to something like this. This describes the social discomfort of running.

Then, there's the physical discomfort, which I think is probably universally understood and simple and self-explanatory. Just in case, you are reading this and you have supernatural powers that enable you to not be in pain when you run, allow me to enlighten you. My muscles hurt, mostly my legs. If I am going uphill, my calves ache the most. My lungs burn when I cannot fill them with enough oxygen to satisfy the demand. Depending on the weather, I'm rarely 'just right', but usually too hot, too cold, getting wind burn or rained/snowed on.

Finally, there is an element of mental discomfort. I regularly recall hearing Coach Myatt and Coach Davis talk about mental toughness from the time I was in junior high all the way through high school. This is a term they referred to in every seasonal sport...but especially those that involved running, like cross country, track and 'conditioning' for basketball. I can be a pretty stubborn person, so when I set my mind to something, I am not likely to stop until I do it. I go through a variety of mental battles during every run, going back and forth about where I'm going to run (tough hills to challenge myself or the easier route?), how fast I will try to go and push myself, whether I can really keep going until the app lady in my headphones says "Begin your cool down now.", which is a given, because I am just stubborn enough to not stop until I hear those magical words, even if I am moving at a snail's pace.

Life, in general, tends to be uncomfortable a majority of the time. I believe that it should feel that way. If I am too comfortable for too long, I get concerned that I'm missing something or maybe not doing it right.

What is the value of being uncomfortable?

Example #1: We spent Monday at the zoo, and it was a beautiful, sunny, wind-free day. I do not at all regret that I spent it outside with my family rather than on a run. However, Tuesday, I knew that I had to run. We are on the countdown clock until the 5K race, and I will finish my program the same week of the race. There is not really room for 'taking time off'. Tuesday morning we heard wind. I looked at the forecast for the day. Not good. There was an emergency alert for dust storms, winds up to 40 mph, with gusts up to 65 mph. I was having flashbacks to wonderful West Texas haboobs. But...we are in Colorado, so IN ADDITION to that forecast, there was freezing cold temperatures and snow. I knew I had to go run, immediately, before I could make excuses and talk myself out of it. I put on layers (not enough), plugged in my headphones, and headed to the park. I decided to do laps close by the house so I didn't get lost (since visibility was not good) or get blown away too far. This was a unique experience, unlike any other I have ever had. The wind was blowing so hard when I was running into it that it felt like I wasn't moving. It was so hard that when it was at my back up the hill, the hill wasn't so hard. My leg muscles did not hurt so bad, because my legs were numb from the cold. Tiny balls of ice were blowing at me, and I was hurdling huge boxes and other trash blowing in my path. It's pretty comical when I look back and think about it now. In the moment, I was just putting one foot in front of the other until I heard "One minute left." and knew I was going to quite possibly survive. As I was walking through the back gate at the house, my music stopped. After further investigation, I realized that my phone had shut off because it had gotten so cold. I don't know that I have ever been voluntarily more physically uncomfortable. I also don't know that I have ever felt more accomplished and proud to have finished something like I did at that moment. It was an amazing high. So, I think one of the main reasons to step outside your comfort zone is the pay-off. The reward for completing something you didn't know you could is incredible.

Example #2: (Disclaimer: I do not recommend this, but I am choosing to learn from it and try to see the good in it. :) Sunday morning I was walking into church. Brandon stayed home with Calvin, who was sick, so it was just Luke and me. I was running a few minutes late. I was wearing high heels. I was carrying my purse, the diaper bag, and my almost 8-month-old baby. The parking lot at church has some medians, made up of rocks with pathways to walk through every few parking spaces. As I made my way toward the door, hands full, I came to the curb and was not at a sidewalk but facing the rocks. I had a choice. I could turn around and walk back to find an easier path or I could brave the rocks...in heels. I was already late and to be more late might be uncomfortable. I had gone the wrong way, and if anyone was watching me circle the parking lot looking lost, it might be uncomfortable. So, I went forward. I was almost across the treacherous rocks and my ankle turned. I fell forward in one of those slow-motion feeling falls. I instinctively put my arm under Luke so no part of him would  be harmed. As I hit the parking lot, there could not have been a more physically uncomfortable or embarrassing moment. The two greeters came rushing to me, and I can only imagine what it looked like from their perspectives. I eventually got Luke to the nursery and stopped by the restroom to discover my elbow was gushing blood. Two very sweet ladies helped me get cleaned up and bandaged. Although I am still healing from that fall, I can already look back and laugh at my stupidity and the irony of it. I was trying to avoid being literally seconds later and a little embarrassment and this is what happened. While I would not repeat this incident, the silver lining of being uncomfortable on a number of levels was that I had the opportunity to meet two gentlemen and two ladies who reached out to me in my time of need. I was humbled and required to seek the help of others, which we all need to be able to do. I can look at what I can only predict will be a scar on my elbow and be confident that I would again sacrifice myself, if needed, to protect my baby.

Growth is the result of being willing to step outside yourself and your 'norm' and go against the grain sometimes. Inspiration is born, not in the mundane, but in the uncertainty of trying something new and not being sure of the result. Comfort is temporary and pales in comparison to the amazing things that can happen when we will reach beyond the limits we have set for ourselves and believe there is something more. My challenge to you is to do something every day, no matter how small, to step outside your comfort zone and see what happens.

Chronicles of Running: Week 5 (A Covering)

During my fifth week of training last week, I ran one day when it began snowing. It was definitely not a windy West Texas snowstorm. It was a beautiful, graceful downfall of the biggest snowflakes I had ever seen. It wasn't cold and the only difficult part was that the snowflakes kept getting in my eyelashes and limited my ability to see where I was going. Earlier in my run, before it began to snow, I looked for my view of Pikes Peak that I love to marvel at every chance I get. It never gets old to look at the mountains, and the same view looks different depending on the weather or time of day. On this particular afternoon, the clouds completely concealed any trace of a mountain. It amazes me that something as thin and fragile as clouds, made of water vapor, can cover an enormous mountain. As I made my way through this dreamlike curtain of falling snow that spread as far as I could see, I began to think about the covering of grace that God offers us.

The next morning, as we drove to church, the snow had covered everything overnight. It was what I imagine it would be like to drive through a winter wonderland. It was unique because there wasn't a thick layer, and there were not inches of snow on the ground. There was just enough to make absolutely everything completely white. It was a 'just enough' layer. It made tree branches, hills and rooftops look so different, and the shapes and details were transformed into something beautiful and new under the covering. 

It's like grace over our sins, grace for the moment. He gives us just enough to make us beautiful, pure and righteous in God's eyes. We need it everyday and often multiple times a day. In fact, that afternoon it was already beginning to melt away and the next morning it was gone. Like manna from heaven, we have to depend on God's grace moment by moment and a lot of times that's all He gives us...enough for the moment. The wonderful thing about grace is that it doesn't just cover our sins where they are hidden but still there, but it washes them away and we are without blemish. You see, we don't need more and more grace for the same sins from the past. We need new grace, because through our shortcomings, we have a new need for fresh grace. Sometimes it feels like the sin is too big or I've messed up too many times. This was just another reminder that if God can use a cloud to cover a massive rock, He can wash away sin. 

"...though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow." 

Isaiah 1:18

Chronicles of Running: Week 4 (Lose Yourself)

Isn't it incredible how music affects us? My playlist for running, so creatively entitled "Running", is a crazy mixture of anything that might possibly inspire me to keep moving my feet. And of course, I always play it on shuffle, because predictability would just be boring. One minute I may be listing to Eminem, while the next song could be Little Texas, followed by David Crowder. I can't neglect to mention the song that has undoubtedly played on every run for the past couple of weeks--Livin' on a Prayer by Bon Jovi. God just knew I needed that extra push, I suppose.

One night, several months ago, my husband and I were talking about a country song that was popular when we were in high school (which was long enough ago that I don't feel the need to specify here). This led to a 4-hour spontaneous activity, in which we began to search old country songs and artists, looking up videos, taking turns guessing each other's chosen songs. It is amazing how many memories it began to stir and the stories it brought up that we shared. None of these memories were ones we shared together, but the reminiscing had an almost addictive nostalgia about it.

Lately, when running, I have really begun to listen to and examine the lyrics of the songs that come up in my playlist. Maybe it gives me something to distract me, as my runs get increasingly tougher, I'm not sure. It is intriguing, though. For example, Lose Yourself (by Eminem...don't worry, it's not the explicit version), is probably a song that makes me want to work harder and run faster and keep going more than any other. I, for one, think Eminem is brilliant. He is gifted enough to do with words and a beat what few can. Yes, he seems to be misguided and lacks some qualities that I believe are important in life. However, in five minutes and twenty-two seconds, his music has the ability to create a sense of urgency in me that causes me to want to accomplish every great thing I ever set out to do. That's pretty incredible.

Currently, my running playlist has 89 songs that comprise 5 hours and 55 minutes of music. It's not because I ever plan on running for a consecutive 5 hours...ever. It's because I don't like monotony. I don't want to hear the same songs over and over again, just like I don't read the same books repetitively (except for the bible), and I usually don't watch the same movies again, especially if they have a twist or any sort of suspense. I already know what happens! It's why I don't run the same path every time. It gets boring. The other side of the coin proposes that by taking the same path more than once, it can allow us to measure growth. If I am constantly ready to make changes and move on to what's next, I may miss the opportunity to clearly see the ways I've improved so I can build on it. Or, maybe I need to see areas of weakness that need more work, before it's time to move forward. I'm becoming more open to taking the same path, in more ways than one, in order to better evaluate and reflect on what really needs to be accomplished so I can move on with confidence and a firm foundation.

Another great aspect of taking the same path is community. As I've begun to run "my trails" on a regular basis, I am beginning to meet other runners along the way and even see some familiar faces from time to time. It's a funny thing to be running and come across another person running. Even if you can't breathe and you want to die, when you see someone else running, there's a surge of supernatural strength and energy that instantly improves your form, your lung capacity and your ability to flash the biggest, cheesiest, most fake smile in the world. It's as if to say "Hey! I'm running and so are you. We're awesome!" I saw a guy on a bike one day last week and it was snowing huge snowflakes that were coming down so fast and in abundance, I could hardly see. This was a great opportunity for the cheese ball smile, because not only were we out there exercising, but we were doing it in the snow. Like Rocky. This camraderie that develops among people who have something in common is essential to abundant life. We need people who will 'run' with us, encourage us (if only by their presence and understanding), push and challenge us and most of all, simply remind us that we are not in it alone. This brings us to the greatest community of all...communing with Christ. And if I truly will 'lose myself' in Him, I will find life and gain Christ. Maybe that's not what Eminem was talking about...but I kind of like the interpretation that involves losing myself for a purpose that is eternal and not temporary.

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him... (Philippians 3:7-9)

Then Jesus told his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? (Matthew 16:24-26)

Chronicles of Running: Week 3.2 (Burdens & Blessings)

My second running day last week was challenging in a different way. Brandon and Calvin were in Denver for the day, so it was Luke (7 months old) and me. I really wanted to run and take advantage of the nice weather, so I did something kinda crazy. I put Luke in the jogging stroller and off we went. It was so hard. I had taken for granted the fact that when it was just me, all I had to think about was...well, me. Now I was constantly checking to make sure his blanket wasn't falling, the sun and wind were not in his face, the bumps weren't too bumpy, he didn't fall out when we were going downhill. Not to mention the tremendous difficulty it was to push him (and more significantly, the extremely heavy stroller) uphill. I love Luke as much as I can possibly love a human being, but he was, without a doubt, a burden and an obstacle to a smooth and simple run.

So, it made me really begin to think about the burdens and baggage we carry with us. I believe that some of the burdens we bear are not by choice and may even be necessary for a bigger purpose. Sometimes God calls us to walk through a desert season ourselves so we can truly, and with clarity, appreciate the refreshment of the rain. Other times we are asked to bear burdens with one another. This can be such a noble opportunity with great rewards or most likely will go unnoticed. In any case, burdens usually have a negative connotation but by definition, are not necessarily bad. Hard does not always equal bad.

Then, there is the unnecessary baggage that we choose. It does not benefit us or anyone around us. It creates obstacles in our relationships and inhibits us from opening up, being honest and trusting others. It keeps us in bondage to our pasts and perhaps even to people who have hurt us. The great thing about this negative burden-carrying is that it's a choice, and we have the power to change it. We have the option to put it down and walk away from it. We have to learn to discern between what is a profitable and productive burden to bear and which burdens are useless and counter-productive if we continue holding onto them. 

My third run of the week was baby and stroller-free, and I appreciated it more than I could have ever imagined. Once we have carried something around for a long time, and it's heavy and difficult to manage, we even get used to it and forget that we might be crumbling under the weight of it. That makes the freedom of releasing it so much sweeter and more satisfying. A lighter burden or none at all enables us to walk in freedom and live our lives the way we are meant to live them. 

As I ran, feeling freer and lighter, I noticed that I was focusing on the ground in front of me. I have this spectacular mountain view right in front of me, and I'm looking at the ground. By the time I realized it and began to focus my attention upward to take advantage of the scenery, trees and houses were blocking my view and I had missed my chance.

With this experience I felt a warning for the burden-free times, as well. When things are easier and seem to be going my way, I lose sight of my need for God. I begin to let my focus drift and become lazy. Sometimes the hardest times to be intentional about focusing on the Rock is not when things are difficult, but it's when they are calm and simple. This is the most important time for me to battle complacency and fight to depend on Him, especially when I feel like I can do it on my own. Timing is everything, and if we wait until there are too many obstacles to block our view of Him, then it can take a lot of time, energy and maneuvering to regain focus where it should have been all along.

So, here's what I get to look at when I run...just one example. My husband posted a similar picture from the same path earlier this week, and it's just funny how your environment (and the work of a magnificent Artist) can inspire you to do things you never thought you would. 

Chronicles of Running: Week 3.1 (Trailblazing)

I love this running program, because it's reasonable and doable. I only have to manage to run three times a week. There was only one delay this week due to weather, so I was easily able to get my three days done. It continues to amaze me what God is teaching me and how He is opening my eyes to new truths (or refreshing old ones) through each run.

I set out for my first run on Monday. With each new week, the program increases the time you spend running, so being my third week, I was a little nervous and intimidated by the fact that it would get tougher. Thankfully, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. I headed out on a different trail with sunshine on my face and not even a breeze in the air...just the wonderful, refreshing cool crispness that makes being near the mountains so glorious. Although I was very thankful for such a beautiful morning, I began to consider the rarity that perfect conditions, such as these, really were. As is life. Just like the weather, with most conditions in life we have no opportunity to contribute our desires or opinions about what should occur whatsoever. The obstacles and challenges in our daily lives tend to come up unannounced and most certainly unwelcome. Yet, we have no choice except to face them and deal with them the best we can. The conditions of our relationships are definitely fifty percent our responsibility, but we cannot (as much as we wish we could) determine how others act or react towards us. So many circumstances are truly beyond our *gasp* control.

As I have shared with numerous counseling clients in the past, it is usually helpful to focus on what is within our control, rather than what isn't. If we zero in on things about which we can do nothing, it ends in feelings of helplessness and frustration. However, when we choose to accept those things we can't control, focus on what we can do (and do it!), then much more positive results will most likely occur. (Sound familiar? The Serenity Prayer is such a simple, and yet so powerful, concept.)

If there is one thing on which I would most want to focus, when it comes to conditions within my control, it's the condition of my heart. This is something that is up to me, and I've seen ugliness that I didn't realize I had in me, as well as compassion beyond my understanding. The common thread is this: the more time I have spent in the Word and at the feet of Jesus, the more loving words and patient responses emerge. The less time I have spent meditating on His goodness and truth, the more short and on edge I am with everyone around me. If I find myself with a short fuse, I can almost always stop and ask myself if I've had my quiet time and prayed that day and know what is needed. The condition of my heart...my responsibility, God's ability to make it what it needs to be.

Accepting what I can't control is anything but easy. It requires being vulnerable and putting my faith and trust in something outside myself. During my Monday run, as I was on a new path, it was both fun and adventurous but also unfamiliar. I came to a point of decision and had a choice to make. The little lady on my app said "You are half-way." (which always seems like I should be way more than half-way :) So, I could turn around and go back the way I came, confident that I would know the way and not get lost...those of you who know me at all, know that is a huge feat. Or, I could keep going, blaze a new trail and choose not to take the safe, familiar path. I forged ahead and met a steep hill but also a great sense of accomplishment. I even ended up back at my starting point at the right time, and it worked. Even if it hadn't worked, I still think I want to be a person who takes risks and doesn't just stick to what's easy and safe all the time. Toward the end of my run, I even got a shot of adrenaline by having to jump across some gigantic cement cylinders because I could see where I wanted to be and it was the only way to get there. There is absolutely something to be said for being willing to do something new and different even when it's uncomfortable.

Chronicles of Running: Week 2 (Life Lessons)

As I was leaving for my run one day this week, Brandon said "Run hard, think little." Ironically, that's just not quite how I operate. My plan was to 'survive, and think about everything I could to take my mind off the running part'. There are so many life lessons that can be extracted and paralleled with running and I don't want to miss them! There was still ice and snow on the ground but it's mostly gone. I saw this part of the ice that had begun to melt and it formed a perfect heart. It was an instant reminder to me of God's love for me. I love the way that He speaks through nature and there are signs of Him everywhere if we choose to look. It is such a beautiful illustration of how God melts away the coldness and cleanses the dirt in our hearts, and He is the only one who can.

I have a vague plan in my mind of where I will run each time, and it's always different. This is another 'keep my mind off the actual running part' tactic. If I'm thinking about which path I will take, then I'm distracted from my aching muscles and shortness of breath. I found a path that I love, so I try to incorporate it into my run somehow. I love that it's not a street but a trail and that it has a gorgeous view of the snow-covered mountains. The only problem I have found with it is that it's uphill. So, one day I was contemplating running the route backwards so I could go downhill. This brought about some problems. If I was running in the other direction, I missed the view. Also, I usually like to challenge myself, so did I really want to go the opposite direction so it would be easier? Then, my sister-in-law said something that I hadn't considered before. If you end up where you started, then the amount of uphill and downhill you go is the same. That's true, and it's like my relationship with God often goes. In the end, I'm going to end up in the same place, but how I get there is a result of the choices I make. If I choose the easier, for the moment, route, then it may take longer to get there and I might really miss out on some things along the way. If I go downhill, then I miss the view. If I avoid the obstacles in my path, then I miss out on what God wants to teach me through the struggle. Eventually, I'll get there, but in the end, the path may be longer and more painful. Sometimes a short steep hill is really the best way and worth the temporary pain to obtain an eternal perspective.

I have a friend whose husband was running his first 5K race. Her dad (his father-in-law) was there to see it and made an interesting comment to him after the race. He said "You still had a lot of gas left there at the end. Are you sure you ran hard enough?" Hearing this made me contemplate how I run my race in life everyday. Am I really giving it all I've got? Do I make the most of every opportunity or do I squander time and resources. If so, what am I saving up for? At the end of our race, whatever we have left is wasted, because we don't get to take it with us. What an inspiration to live every day to the hilt and to 'leave it all on the track' at the end of every day. This is my hope and prayer...that I will truly live each moment, not passively, but passionately. That I will truly love the precious people God has given me to love, not just sufficiently, but sacrificially. That I will truly serve my Savior and take every thought, word and action captive for His glory, not for the recognition, but for the reward to which I have been called to receive.

"Do you not know that in a race, all runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it." 1 Corinthians 9:24

Chronicles of Running: Week 1 (from someone who is NOT a runner)

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, my wonderful husband and I decided that we would start running. People in Colorado are healthy and fit, so maybe we should try to be healthy and fit. People here like the outdoors, so let's start a running program with no gym membership. It will be ok that it's the middle of winter in the mountains of colorful Colorado. The scenery will be beautiful as we gasp for air at this new altitude where our bodies are not yet acclimated. Ok, that's all a bit extreme. But, seriously...I'm not really sure what we were thinking, or if thinking had any part at all in this decision. It's actually working out better that you might think. Here are some reasons why and also some comical happenings from my first week of C25K (couch to 5K).

One way I know we are adjusting to the climate and altitude of our new home is because when Brandon checks the weather, these are our determinants of whether or not it's a 'running day': the temperature must be in positive double-digits, it cannot be snow-ing (snow and ice on the ground makes no difference). That's about it. I realized this, suddenly, when we had been indoors for two days due to lots of snow-ing and below zero temperatures. The next morning, he looked at his weather app on his phone and said "Hey, it's going to be 29 degrees today. That's running weather!" Really? Since when?!

My first week of my program has consisted of alternating between walking and jogging. On my C25K debut, my first mistake was my sweat pants. They were too long and actually kept falling down while I ran, so this was a mistake I will not repeat. I now understand why real runners wear clothes that fit well, stay up and don't drag on the ground. Sweat pants are for lounging, not jogging. Blooper number two on my first workout: mistaking ice for water. Yep. I totally busted on the ice. Thankfully, it was during my walking time or it could've been much worse. I landed on my hip and elbow, but other than a little soreness, no damage done...except my pride. I quickly got up and looked around, though, and I don't think anyone saw it. Other than that, I survived the first run. It took me back to my high school days of getting in shape, feeling the burn in my muscles and lungs, but it felt good.

My second run was a vast improvement over the first. It was much easier with glorious sunny weather, although I definitely was still dancing around snow and ice...just more carefully. I didn't fall. I wore better suited clothing for the occasion. I did forget a headband and dealt with bangs in my eyes the entire time, so that was annoying. I also somehow ended up in the middle of school pick up for an elementary close by. I now know to avoid the cul de sac and street where, I now know, lots of parents park and wait to pick up their children around 3pm. The last thing I need, as I navigate this newfound adventure, is an audience.

Today was day 3, end of the first week of training. (There are eight weeks total.) Today was epic, and it's difficult to describe why. Maybe it's the Winter Olympics in Sochi or the fact that Rocky movies have been on for the past couple of days. Perhaps it was the heavy fog, temperatures in the 20's (felt like the teens), or the treacherous snow and ice I'm still navigating. I'm convinced it may never go away completely. I'm working on my playlist, and so my music still wasn't quite right, but I felt invincible. I loved the challenges that the trail presented and felt completely capable of overcoming them. I don't really plan out my path, but I just go and know I will eventually make my way back home. Today I ended up on a wide trail that had back yard fences on one side and a big wide ditch with quite a bit of brush on the other. I was feeling good, finishing up my workout, when I saw what looked like cat paw prints in the snow. Then, I saw different prints...bigger. I began to look more carefully and suspiciously at the thick brush for signs of wildlife. I mentally prepared for what I would do if charged by a mountain lion or some other wild animal. Now, as I write about it, I can laugh and know how ridiculous it sounds, but all of the sudden I wasn't feeling quite so invincible anymore. I was, however, feeling like I could probably run faster at the end of my workout than I ever dreamed I could.

So, in summation of my first week of 'running', if you can call it that, I already have a handful of lessons I'm learning. I am really beginning to understand why our lives can be compared to running a race in the Bible. The scripture that Calvin and I have been memorizing is found in Hebrews 12:1 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witness, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." I'm learning that there are countless parallels we can draw that apply to running and life. We must be prepared. When we fall, we must get back up again and keep going, even if it hurts. We can't make excuses, because there will always be 'reasons' to not do the hard stuff. There will be obstacles, and in order to maneuver them, a different route may be required, so be flexible. (This is not easy for me...at all.) There will be days when we feel inspired, and those are moments to be embraced. But during the times when we don't 'feel' particularly ecstatic, we must continue to persevere so we can gain the reward at the end. Even if we finish a run, or a day, and it looks sloppy and didn't turn out at all like we planned, we can say we finished. Then, we get a new chance to try again. I'm so thankful for fresh starts, new mercies and second chances. When I see ALL of the white snow, I can't help but think of God's grace and how it beautifully covers the ugliness of my sin and breathe a huge sigh of relief. He's definitely doing something new in me, and I'm full of gratitude.