I’ve had dreams my whole life, but never the courage to act on them. Even the dreams I’m 100 percent sure are God-given remain untouched. Fear has a way of strangling dreams, choking the life out of a being until all that’s left is existence.

The first time I saw Facebook friends posting about running a marathon, I thought…

That’s amazing! I wish I could do that.

The next year when I saw them posting about the marathon and other running adventures, I thought…

I might try to do that next year.

Then when last year rolled around, and I saw them posting again, I was angry with myself…

I didn’t even try! I said I wanted to try, yet I never even gave it a shot.

So last fall, I sent one of my running friends a message, asking if I still had time to train for the half marathon in February. She assured me I had time, and encouraged me.

On Sunday, my niece, Sarah, and I ran {and walked} 13.1 miles, and received the Finisher’s medal for the Mercedes Half Marathon. The second I crossed the finish line, I doubled over in tears. Let me take you back:

I’ve always been afraid to reach for my dreams. Fear of rejection. Fear of criticism. Fear of failure. Fear. When I decided to participate in the half marathon, I knew my success or failure would fall square on my shoulders alone. I’d have no one to blame if I chickened out. I’d have no one to blame if I gave up. So I trained. I ran and ran and ran. My knee would ache, my shin would hurt, my back would give out; but I was determined. I often prayed for strength and endurance. Yet…when Sunday morning rolled around, fear came rushing in like it always has. I woke up with butterflies in my stomach. When Mark asked how I was feeling, I said, I wish I’d never signed up to do this. I cried and prayed the entire drive to the downtown event location.

My heart pounded as we stood among thousands in the start line. Unlike all my other dreams, I’d finally arrived at a place where I was either going to succeed or fail. The first few miles were fairly easy. We’d stop briefly to stretch our legs, and resume running. We passed so many encouragers along the way…people with motivational signs {including my children}, volunteers handing out drinks. But around mile ten, I started getting really tired. My knee was aching, and my body was drained. We’d run. We’d walk. We’d run again. I thought several times about going to sit on the curb to rest. I wanted to quit. Then near mile twelve, a girl held a bright red sign with white letters that read, Total stranger, I am proud of you. As I ran past her, she stuck out her hand to give me a high-five. I teared up as I passed her. She, a total stranger, was encouraging me. She was proud of me {and all the other thousands} for making my dream come true.

I kept the girl with the red sign in mind during the last mile, and kept repeating this verse to myself: But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. (Is. 40:31, KJV) As we crossed the finish line, I cried out to Sarah: We made it! Every fear, every unreached dream, every failure led me to that moment when I doubled over in tears with realization that I’d finally quit existing and started living! It was in that moment that I fully understood that God didn’t create us to merely exist and die; he created us to live!