When I run, I feel His pleasure.

OK, so that’s pretty much a lie for me.

When I run, I don’t feel much of anyone’s pleasure. There might be moments when everything feels right, but pleasure isn’t the overwhelming feeling I get. . . until the race is run and I feel the sense of accomplishment.

Today, I ran a 10K on my own. Generally, the only time I do 10K are for actual 10K races that I’ve paid money to run (money is generally a motivation for me). But today’s motivation had more to do with a running competition/challenge I’m doing with my friend Scott with a wager to go along with bragging rights. I don’t want to lose, and if you want to know the truth, I’ve been behind. Because Scott is a more dedicated runner than me and probably doesn’t walk in the middle of his long runs like I do.

Wait. I didn’t mean to tell you that. You’re supposed to think I’m this amazing athlete/runner!

This morning, though, was a 10K. When I run in the neighborhood where I live, I always drive to a local school and park there because there aren’t any sidewalks in the neighborhoods around my house and I’m not into testing my survival skills in a game of Mandy v. car. So I ran all the way over to Edmonson Pike, down to Blackman Road and back. And because I’d turned around before reaching the halfway point, I knew I’d have to make up some distance in the end. I figured I’d do a lap or so around the track at the middle school where I had parked.

When I finally got there, some Nashville firefighters were out walking the track. They were finishing as I finished my final lap and were stretching when I ambled up to the steps to walk to my car. I was panting and a little out of breath, yet they greeted me and said something like “Getting it in today?” I answered with, “Yes, I did a 10K.” Their response: You go, girl.

I’m taking that as a good sign for the way today will go.

You go, girl.