Graffiti. It was a beautiful sight for sore eyes (and feet).

Unlike the graffiti we normally shake our heads over in dismay, this graffiti was different. It was written in (washable) chalk by the organizers of a “Rosary Run 5K” to honor the feast of the Holy Rosary in the public streets of our city. They had outlined the ejaculations of the Litany of Loretto in a variety of bright colors along the final half mile of the race route, which took place underneath one of the city’s major highways. It was a dark and boring place to run, with little motivation aside from the brightly decorated pillars. Collectively, this graffiti became 52 reasons for me to learn courage, hope, and persistence in the race to grace.

*Mother of Christ*

*Mother of Divine Grace*

In this last half mile of the race, my brain was frantic to focus on something that would see me through to the end. My body was tired and my spirit wavering. I honestly wondered why I had bothered to run this race in the first place. I cursed under my breath for not taking the Fun Run path.

*Virgin most faithful*

I started thinking about how I got to this race in the first place. It had been over four years since I had last attempted to run. While for some, who have the time and ability to run a 5K multiple times per week, this may seem as easy as making your bed in the morning. But for me – running this race at this time was a triumph of past pains and the promise of future achievements.

*Comforter of the Afflicted*

I had originally thought that the desire to overcome pain and discouragement of the past were my main motivators for me to run this race. But perhaps it really was the desire to thrive in a strong future that drove my spirit onward. My broken foot, much like my heart and soul, had healed from it’s wounds. And with healing, comes new strength.

Training meant starting slow and being willing to take baby steps, setbacks, and breaks. For months, I had thrust one foot in front of the other, gasped for renewed breath, and gently worked myself from the couch to a 5K. (There’s an app for that! Literally.)

*Cause of our Joy*

“Funny,” I mused as I jogged that last half mile, “I just know that I’m supposed to be here right now. Even though my body is regretting this.” The night before the race saw me up for hours, the effects of food poisoning taking its toll on my stomach well into the early morning hours. A few of my teammates had to bail for one reason after another. And my foot – the old fracture pains were starting to creep in again. I had every reason not to run the race that morning.

*Health of the sick*

Somehow, I had made it downtown in the dark hours of the morning. I checked in, pinned on my running number, took a shuttle to the starting line, and before long, the horn was blowing in my ear. My feet began to move along with the rest of the racers that morning. It was an ongoing effort to put one foot in front of the other.

*Morning Star*

And here I was – the finish line slowing coming into sight. I was too tired to pray. The ejaculations were just enough for one short breath and gave me another strength to look toward. I thought about that preparation as I was running that last half mile. (Okay, maybe walking a bit of it, too.) And then it hit me:

Preparing for this race was just like running it – and living the race of life. One foot in front of the other. One whisper after another of Mary’s powerful presence in our life as mother, comforter, health, gate, and queen. My training for a race was really a training for grace – a grace that can permeate the darkest, dreariest, and toughest of places with light.

Just as an ugly highway could become a classroom for holiness, so also can the tough moments in our lives be transformed with Our Lady’s motherly love and protection.

*Gate of heaven*

And there it was – the finish line! Perfect strangers gathered to cheer us on and lift our hearts heavenward. The pain of the past mile was lost in the joy of the present.

*Queen of the Holy Rosary*

The last of the graffiti litany lines ended with *Queen of Peace* and a sense of peace that pervaded all senses – including the urge to pass out. The doors of the church were open, so I grabbed a gatorade and stumbled inside. I thanked God for leading me in this race to Our Lady – the mother, cure, reason, and power behind every day to come. Now, I had 52 reasons to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The victory for me was not in finishing the race – it was the journey of getting there.

*Note: In my heart, I won the race that day – regardless of my finish time. But as if by a direct nod from above, my name was called that day in the awards ceremony. It seems that I outran all by two women in my age group of 30-39. Which basically means I beat the stroller brigade. 🙂