As I Was Saying is a forum for a variety of perspectives to foster faith-related conversations among our readers with the goal of mutual learning, even in disagreement. Apart from articles written by editorial staff, these perspectives do not necessarily reflect the views of The Banner.
The air rushes into my lungs and empties just as quickly. My legs move beneath me on autopilot, my arms pump in rhythm, and my heart races. A fast-beat pop playlist blares in my ears, drowning out the sound of my feet pounding the pavement.
I am running.
I am living.
My journey with recreational running started just over a year ago. I decided to challenge myself by starting a “Couch to 5K” program, a beginner-friendly training plan designed to get new runners from zero to five kilometers in just eight weeks. At the time, running five kilometers felt almost impossible. But as the weeks passed, I watched my body grow stronger, my stamina increase, and my confidence build. By the end of the program, I could run a full 5K without stopping—and I felt a sense of liberation that I'd never experienced before. I had fallen in love with running.
From that point on, running became a regular part of my life. I ran 3 to 5 times a week, depending on my goals and how busy my life was. It became more than just a physical exercise; it was a mental reset, a time to clear my head, and a way to reconnect with myself.
At the beginning of 2024, I decided to take things up a notch. I wanted to celebrate my 27th birthday with a big accomplishment, so I set my sights on running a half marathon. I convinced my sister and cousin to join me on this journey, and we mapped out a route.
The physical demands of running were intense, but I soon realized that the mental aspect was equally challenging. Running long distances forces you to confront your doubts and fears. Your mind tries to convince you that you can’t keep going—that you're too tired, too sore, too slow. But in those moments, the key is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. You push through the discomfort, and you prove to yourself that you're capable of more than you thought possible.
Every time I completed a run that felt impossible, I became more confident in my abilities. It gave me the tools to push through challenges, not just on the road but in every aspect of my life.
Throughout my training—the speed runs, the long runs, and the recovery runs—I developed an unexpected sense of gratitude. I’ve always been someone who tries to see the positive side of things, but running brought this mindset to a whole new level. Instead of thinking, “I have to go for a run,” I began to think, “I get to go for a run.”
I found myself thanking God for the simple things I had once taken for granted. I was grateful that I had the physical ability to move my body and push myself. I was thankful for the moments of peace and solitude I experienced on my runs, for the fresh air and changing seasons. I was even thankful for the challenges—the sore muscles, the sweat, and the mental battles—because they reminded me of how capable I am. Running shifted my perspective in ways I never anticipated.
Here’s what gratitude looks like for a runner (the very short version):
- I am thankful I get to move my body and push myself.
- I am thankful I get to go outside.
- I am thankful I get to take this time for myself.
When you commit to doing something hard multiple times a week, you develop a deep appreciation for the little things—the things that make the monotonous act of running feel new and exciting each time.
I’ve also developed a greater appreciation for how our bodies work. I marvel at the way our muscles build and grow stronger over time. I appreciate how stretching can alleviate soreness and improve flexibility. I’m in awe of how my heart pumps tirelessly, keeping me going without any conscious effort, and how my lungs fill with air and fuel my runs without me having to think about it. The human body is truly remarkable—a gift that I often thank God for as I trained.
My first half marathon was tough. It came right after a long, stressful week at work, and my training hadn’t gone as planned in the final days leading up to the race. I'll admit that by the time I crossed the finish line, I was simply thankful to be done, but I was still proud of myself for finishing.
Four months later, I was finishing my preparation for a second half marathon—this time as part of an official race. I was stronger, more prepared, and even more grateful for the opportunity to run the distance again. I was ready for the challenge.
As I ran that race, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with gratitude. I was thankful for the chance to push myself once again, to run in such a beautiful environment, and to share the experience with my family, who had listened to me talk endlessly about my running journey. I was thankful for every step I took, and for the fact that I had found a hobby that brought so much joy to my life.
Running has taught me so much, but perhaps its greatest gift has been the ability to cultivate gratitude in my everyday life. It has shown me how powerful a simple mindset shift can be. When you start to approach things from a place of gratitude—when you move from “I have to” to “I get to”—everything changes. Suddenly, the challenges don’t seem so daunting. It’s like stepping into the perspective God wants for us, where the challenges we face are opportunities for growth, and the small annoyances become reminders of His blessings in disguise. You start to see His hand in the mundane moments, and you appreciate the beauty He weaves into every day.
Where in your life can you make this shift? Where can you stop saying “I have to” and start saying “I get to”? What new possibilities could open for you if you approached life with a little more gratitude?