Integrating Physical Well-being for Growth and Healing
To the person who feels fragmented, like your body, mind, soul, and spirit are running different races, this is for you.
My journey with my marathon training has been a powerful, physical reminder of all the commitments I've made on a deeper level. The last eight months have been a testament to both the beauty and the struggle of pressing forward, even when everything feels like it’s going wrong.
I recently hit my peak run: 12 miles, followed by a 1.45-mile walk, leaving me with just two weeks to taper and rest before my first half-marathon race this upcoming Sunday.
That peak run was a beautiful mess.
It was supposed to be my "dress rehearsal" for race day: an early start, all my gear tested, and an encouraging preview of what’s ahead. Instead, everything seemed to go wrong. I woke up late, well after the sun had climbed, so a “dress rehearsal” in my running outfit was out of the question. It felt like the hottest day of the summer, and I noticed myself procrastinating — doing longer dynamic stretches than usual and even getting a chair massage. I think I was nervous. By the time I finally got out there, it was almost 11 am!
I was more prepared this time, ready with four energy gels — two caffeinated and two non-caffeinated gels used for endurance athletes to stay fueled — so I wouldn’t "bonk out" like I did after six miles last time on my 9.6-mile run. That was a good call; I used all of them by mile 12. What wasn’t a good call – was trying to pre-open one of the gels to make it easy for me later. By the first mile, it had spilled all over my front pack, leaving a sticky mess that required me to seek out water fountains just to wash my arm! I also packed 1.5 L of water with Liquid IV, which I appreciated, but by mile 10, it was gone, and I was grateful for every water fountain I could find.
As all these little things were going wrong, I just kept running, focusing on the goals ahead. My mind counted in a sequence I've become familiar with: 3, 6, 9, 12... With every step, I focused on the next small victory. By the time I hit the three-mile mark, I could enjoy that positive feeling of accomplishment. As I kept pushing, the counter would shift to 6, 9, 12, 15... The thought of 15 miles wasn't a goal for the day, but I couldn’t help but wonder… “One day, could it be? Would that even be fun? This is painful!”
Running Through Grief Toward Hope
Towards the end, as I neared mile 11 to 12, I felt something shift. I could feel my late brother, Ciso, cheering me on so loudly. Then, I felt my late previous spouse, Rumen, doing the same. I couldn't help but tear up. The traumatic moments I had faced with these two men – my brother who was like the first cooler-than-me chill best friend before I had my own friends who passed tragically at 33, and my previous spouse, who I fought so hard to keep until he was done trying — the heartbreak felt so sad but behind me as I moved forward just feeling grateful I got to experience positive moments of life with them at various times. I was also deeply grateful that they were cheering me on, and I was excited to finish, get home, and hug my husband tightly, who lived through all the unexpected passings alongside me.
As I ran each step forward, I felt a deep sense of healing as I moved forward, choosing to let go of regret and disappointment and letting the tears of grief mix with my sweat. As I ran, step by step, I realized, “Everything changes, but our faith, values, and commitments keep us moving forward.”
My training has become a powerful metaphor for my life in faith and purpose. Some days I didn't want to run, much like some days I feel hesitant to face the various parts of my journey. But on other days, I couldn’t wait to be out there, much like the moments when my heart is fully surrendered to God’s plan.
The training steps have been a constant reminder of my commitments: to move forward riding the waves of grief, to continue co-partnering with Jesus in spiritually integrative trauma healing for others, and to support those I love in this one life we live, regardless of the excuses not to.
Nothing went “right” during my peak run. And yet, I did better than I expected. I still had enough energy for an active recovery.
It was a beautiful reminder that nothing needs to go right to take one step forward, and when we’re moving forward with God, Jesus will make it better than expected.
“Everything changes, but our faith, values, and commitments keep us moving forward.”
Take a Step with Me: Why I'm Running
Will you help me as I take 13.1 miles of steps forward toward hope and healing?
This upcoming Sunday, September 7th, I’ll run my first half-marathon at RunDisney. It’s their Halloween Half, with a focus on villains and darkness. Of course, I felt moved to call it my “Miles of Light: 13.1 Miles for Hope & Healing” run — because every mile matters in spreading light where there was once darkness.
I’m running to support my inspiring friend, Cambrey White, and her three-year-old son with Cystic Fibrosis, Rowland. And I’m running to raise funds for the trauma-focused group therapy we’re providing free to students through Journeys Counseling Ministry.
Every gift you give will directly support families impacted by Cystic Fibrosis and provide free trauma-focused group therapy for students carrying heavy stories.
Here’s How You Can Join Me:
🌟 Give $13.10 ($1 per mile & a dime!) — and you’ll be entered into a raffle for a Newport Christmas Lights Duffy Tour, a private boat ride for up to 6 people captained by me and my husband 🎄🚤✨. He insists it’s worth at least $800 — I just call it magical, especially with cocoa and sparkle along the harbor. Even if you’re not local, you can gift it to someone who is!
🙌 No gift is too small. Even $1 helps. I’ll write the name of every donor — no matter the amount — on the cape I’ll be wearing on race day. That way, you’ll have my back as I cover the miles, figuratively and literally.
Hope & Healing by the Numbers
💙 Half of the funds raised will go to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation, standing with families like Cambrey and Rowland as we hold onto HOPE for a cure.
💛 The other half will cover the physical costs of our free 13-week trauma-focused group therapy through Journeys Counseling — think workbooks, journals, art supplies, participant stipends. Just one group of 8 students costs nearly $2,500, and we’re offering it at no cost to them, as we hold onto HEALING for their minds and hearts.
Will you take a step with me?
My goal is to raise $5,000 by September 13 at 1:00 p.m. (in honor of the 13.1 miles).
It’s a bold goal — but if even a fraction of those who see this take part, I know we can shine light together.
✨ Every gift matters. Every mile of light matters. Together, we can help families with CF breathe easier and open the door to healing for trauma survivors. Let’s bring the light where there was once darkness.
