Two days after my 40th birthday, I crossed the finish line of the Hokie Half Marathon. My official time was 1:45:42, and as a bonus, I placed third in my age group. While I wanted to finish well, and feel good about my time, the race was never really about the time or the ‘podium’ placement.

My Reason for Running

It has been funny to watch people’s reactions when I share that my idea of a big birthday celebration was running a half marathon. I’ve watched them scratch their heads. Some have chuckled and said, “Not my idea of a fun time!” or even, “That sounds terrible!” It begs the question: Why spend a milestone birthday running 13.1 miles?

The answer: because to me, it was 13.1 miles of gratitude and joy.

Running is one of my favorite things to do. As I move, I feel free. As the miles pass beneath my feet, I find myself deeply connected to the Lord, and my prayers become especially clear. I feel strong, capable, and comfortable in my own skin. When I finish a run, totally drenched in sweat, I feel ready to take on the world. 

As I approached this milestone birthday, I found myself wanting a challenge – something I had to work for and earn. For me, it mattered that I welcomed a new decade with grit, determination and the tenacity I have cultivated over the prior decades. More than that, I wanted an experience that felt immersive and visceral. Running is something I love, but I hadn’t pinned on a race bib in more than 15 years.

There is something edifying about voluntarily choosing a challenge that asks more of you than comfort ever will. Training wasn’t always convenient. One week I was only home for a single day and somehow had to squeeze in a 12-mile run between work trips to Raleigh and New York City. Some runs were hard. Some mornings required far more discipline than motivation. I had to learn how to fuel myself and stay hydrated as the miles got longer. But I did it. I stayed the course and made it to the finish line. 

Building Strength, Journeying Together

My legs didn’t always cooperate, and there were plenty of moments when excuses would have been easier. But that’s precisely the point. The moments that make us grit our teeth and keep going remind us that we are alive. They remind us that we are capable. They remind us that strength isn’t something we talk about but rather it’s something we build.

What I didn’t expect was how much this experience would remind me that none of us are meant to do hard things alone.

In my training my daughter, husband, mom and dear friend Megan were the voices in my ear that kept me on track. I would discuss my training plan changes, my playlist, and where my head was at. At times, during my long runs, I would send a group text, “my legs are heavy – this is so hard!” It was usually Megan who would jump in first with confidence on my behalf, “You are stronger than your legs! You are built for this! You are crushing it!” Their love, support, and belief helped get me to that starting line.

As the race day arrived I had a neighbor drive me to the starting line – my friend Laura who had run this race before. She kept my nerves at bay and upon arrival, my parents were waiting for me to see me off.

Throughout the course, family and friends showed up in ways that made me laugh, smile, and occasionally fight back tears (which can be tough when you’re trying to run, ha!). They created signs that ranged from deeply meaningful to completely ridiculous. Some quoted Scripture. Others referenced inside jokes that only a handful of people would understand. Beneath the humor and creativity, every sign seemed to communicate the same message:

We know you. We love you. We are for you.

As I ran through Blacksburg, I was greeted by people screaming my name, cheering wildly, and offering encouragement exactly when I needed it most.

I felt seen. I felt valued. I felt loved.

And as it turns out, those things matter a lot when you’re trying to cover 13.1 miles.

Remembering Who I am

By the time I reached miles 10 through 13.1, the race became a different experience entirely.

The excitement had worn off. The finish line still felt far away. My legs were tired. My mind began negotiating – would it really be so bad if I just stopped and walked? Why did I ever think this was a good idea? Those final miles threatened to break me. But they also reminded me who I am and the legacy I am part of.

I thought about my grandparents, both marathon runners. My Grampy completed 80 marathons. My Nanny completed 29. I thought about my mom and her own marathon journey. I remembered that I come from a long line of people who understood perseverance.

I thought about the people waiting for me at the finish line – the signs they made – the love they have for me. And so I did what runners, and people, have always done. I kept going one step at a time, one mile at a time, and one choice at a time. 

Running Mirrors Life

The longer I sit with the experience, the more I realize how much running mirrors life.

Life gives us challenges we didn’t anticipate and stretches we don’t think we can endure. It presents moments that threaten to break our spirits, test our resolve, and convince us to quit. Yet life is also filled with people who encourage us, strengthen us, and remind us who we are when we’ve forgotten. It is better wrapped in love.

When love meets perseverance, remarkable things happen.

Crossing the finish line felt wonderful. I was proud of the work, grateful for the result, and honored by the unexpected age-group placement. But what I will remember most isn’t the time on the clock. I’ll remember the laughter, the signs, the cheers, the legacy of runners who came before me, and the people who believed in me. Most of all, I’ll remember that even when the miles get hard, joy is still worth fighting for. 

Forty feels less like a finish line and more like an invitation: an invitation to keep saying yes to challenges, to keep discovering what I’m capable of, and to keep embracing the adventure.

After all, the best adventures are still ahead.