It wasn’t always like this. My crazy, wonderful husband running as many miles as some people don’t even like to drive. People don’t often get it, and that’s okay. Sometimes I don’t get it when people want to golf 18-holes, or eat hot sauce on their french fries. We’re all different, and that’s the beauty of us. Six years ago we were recalling a certain event that he did where he had to run 3 miles. That boy struggled through those miles, let me tell you! It’s hard to imagine, but he was also one of those that would somewhat sniff at the idea of running. Why would you do that sort of thing when there are bikes to ride, roller-blades to don, or a vehicle at your disposal? Then, something happened. He explains it as a realization that he was just sick and tired of telling himself “one day”. One day I’ll get in shape. One day I’ll run a marathon. One day, one day, one day… So he started.
As he ran more, he adopted the “new” but old as time technique of barefoot running. He doesn’t actually go barefoot, but he just wears an old pair of beat up sneakers that he sawed off the back of the heels with his electric saw. Those sneaks saw a lot of pavement this weekend! He’s been training for a lone-ranger ultra-marathon. That just means that it’s a loner-type of race, run alongside a few hundred people. Everyone is doing their own thing, alone in a mass of people, but all having an individual goal. His goal: to run 100 miles in 24 hours. The idea morphed as he ran, and it solidified this year before he went to Haiti. Why not use this run as an attention-getter for the needs in Haiti? So, although many personal things have been accomplished through the training and ultimately the race, his goal is to raise $10,000 for the people of Haiti, channeled through cpr-3 ministries.
On Friday, after work and after driving two hours to drop off his truck to get some mechanical work done to it, he set out on a 30-mile run through the night. I collapsed into sleep after midnight then woke with a start about five minutes before he arrived home at 5:30am. The worst part about his run: losing his debit card and drivers’ license somewhere between gas station one and two… a 10-mile stretch of road. That was a tough pill to swallow. He did it though, even getting chased by a dog and running through some dark creepy woods in the middle of nowhere. After about an hour of sleep and a nice big breakfast (or two) he set off again for run #2. Seventeen miles to backtrack his steps to see if he could find the lost cards. When he texted me a photo a few hours later, without looking, I just knew it was a picture of the cards. Sure enough, along the side of the road, in the grass, near a ditch, on some ten-mile stretch lay both his license and debit card right next to eachother. God is SO big to care about tiny things like that. What a caring, miraculous God we have. We still have no idea how those popped out of his pouch, but I know that by doing so, our faith has been strengthened. Lost things found are SO important to Him. And to think I am one of those lost things, found by God and belonging to Him forever.
The kids and I piled into the van to pick him up at mile 17. He was tired. Duh! We drove home and he did his usual routine: shower, fresh clothes, pretend like it’s a new day. This time our great friend Patrick met him here and ran the last 13 miles with him. What a difference! Drawing from reserves unknown and the strength of a big God and an encouraging friend, he did it! We, along with Patrick’s family, met them at a park with tons of food and drinks. 60 miles total. I’m so proud of him!
Our next challenge has been to keep that man fed! About ten minutes after three eggs, sausage, vegetables, and pancakes… he’s hungry. Last night in bed he couldn’t stop fidgeting and I made him get up to eat one more time and he downed chicken and dumplings, two pieces of toast, and a bowl of cereal. This morning: repeat.
So, we’re pretty stoked about the race. He’s going to take it really light until the 16th, and we’re praying for good weather and good health. He’s an inspiration to me! And I’ll be the first one to admit I think he’s nuts. But I love him. Let’s encourage one another, whether it be running for 24 hours or hitting a golf ball into the 18th hole Doing all for the glory of God!