How Revolution Changes Everything: Part 2
Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,
I woke up this morning and fumbled for my phone to stop its 5am alarm. The room was still dark.
I set out for 6 slow miles before dawn. My knees ached and I considered turning back and going back to bed.
But I kept going. With each step I thought about Rev3 Cedar Point 140.6. I was registered to be there this morning. I wrote about revolution, and how it “changes everything.” I knew I was making changes in my life when I registered for the race back in the winter.
But I pulled out of the race in mid summer.
I accepted that I had indeed started a revolution in my life, but that it had nothing to do with triathlon – or seeing how far I could push myself physically. I didn’t need to know that. I know now how far I can go.
Here part of what I wrote back in February:
Webster’s Dictionary defines “Revolution” as: a fundamental change in the way of thinking about or visualizing something : a change of paradigm
That’s what I needed. A fundamental change in how I viewed life. A trip into those underground currents where my questions about who I am might be answered. So I started a revolution to overthrow the fear that’s ruled my heart for most of my adult life. Fear of failure. Fear of mistakes. Fear of letting my kids down somehow with my life.
When I registered for the race I was hoping that a final step towards “holding hands with endurance”, as I put it before, would fill some void I was feeling. Some dark that you can’t describe until you’ve been surrounded by it. The kind you can feel in your bones and constantly fills your head.
I signed up for the race, but deep down I knew that a race wasn’t what I needed.
The revolution had started well before I signed up for Rev3 Cedar Point 140.6.
The change was already in motion.
God had been asking me to finally surrender. To trust. All the while whispering to me that it wasn’t about a race or proving something to myself or anyone else.
I thought back to moments on the beach listening to his voice in the waves. Another day listening to his voice in the thunder of a violent storm on the same beach. And finally trusting his voice in the calmness of a perfectly still sea.
By now I might be a couple of hours into my first Iron distance race. But instead I’m at home. Happy to have run 6, mostly painless, miles. You kids are still asleep. Mommy just came and kissed me and went up the stairs to wake you for church.
We can’t always see the revolution in our lives.
There won’t always be pictures or medals to prove where we’ve been or what we’ve accomplished.
For me though, accepting God’s will in my life – taking a huge leap into the unknown – leaving behind a place and time that was bad for all of us, is one of the greatest revolutions I could ever be a part of.
One day you’ll know that I took chances outside of signing up for races. That mommy supported me in my decisions. That I listened to God’s will in my life. And that it was hard. But it was worth it.
This morning I was little sad not to take the start at Rev3 Cedar Point, but I know there will be other races.
I love you,