Not too long ago, I was hoping to stretch out my morning run. Nineteen minutes, a little over two miles, had been my longest, but I wanted the two mile mark to be comfortably attainable and not a personal best. So I boldly (ha!) set my timer for 22 minutes and headed out. I ran a new route, so I'd focus more on my surroundings and less on huffing and puffing. I blew through the 22 minutes and RESET my timer. I can remember checking my watch at one point, and thinking "Only 11 more minutes." Only! I finished the day after 45 minutes and nearly FIVE miles.
The next time I went out (after a couple days rest), it was all I could do to get a mile and a half in before taking a walking break. What happened? Since then, 3 miles is the best I've done. Decent, but well short of 5.
My Christian race is no different. I've had times of gradual progress, building and growing. Occasionally I see mind-blowing leaps, I didn't think were possible. Sometimes, I have a disappointing season, with no success to show for my efforts. Every once in a while, I even sleep in.
But you're doing it.
That's what my husband- a much more experienced runner- tells me when I get aggravated by my lack of progress. Getting out there. Making the effort. That's what counts. It's not the times, the distances, the speed, it's the running.
Put on the shoes and go.