My Half-Marathon and the Real Victory behind it

The night before the big event, I wanted to indulge in a special meal. After all, its not everyday that you get to run a half marathon, and its not everyday that you get to eat like you are going to. For my carb-loading, big pre-run meal, I knew exactly what I wanted.

On The Border. Endless enchiladas. $8.99. Enough said.

My family and a few friends joined me for a mexican feast with all-you-can-eat enchiladas, and I think we got our money's worth of cheese, beef, and chicken, beans, and rice. Plus we had a grand 'ole time.

The next morning, pumped up on adrenaline and mexican fiesta, I joined 15,000 other racers for the Little Rock marathon, half marathon, and 10k. The fun atmosphere, encouraging words, sideline posters, and people cheering me on - strangers, friends, and family alike - helped me cross the finish line in four minutes under my target time. Three months of training, a significant entrance fee (where does all that money go to?), and several injuries along the way all led up to this morning...and I can honestly say it was totally worth it.

Running this half marathon means something really significant to me, something that other participants and onlookers might not know or understand. This is because just a little over five years ago, a doctor told me that I could not run because I had an eating disorder.

Now, after a full recovery, I am running again. In fact, I am training harder and running longer than I have in my entire life, and I am eating like a champ, too! I am free to run a lot and eat a lot, and I am living in health and freedom from the eating disorder that once controlled my diet and exercise habits.

This race means more to me than a sense of athletic accomplishment. I am not celebrating physical fitness and endurance; I am celebrating God's faithfulness to deliver me from an eating disorder.

Every enchilada I ate, and every step I took in that half marathon is a testimony to the grace of God to deliver us in our weakness. He has delivered me from an eating disorder, and I run in honor of Him. Crossing that finish line was like a slap in the face to the enemy as I declared that God's promise to me in Philippians 1 has been fulfilled in my life:

"What has happened to me will turn out for my deliverance. I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body."