Seven years ago, I was exercising quite regularly: elliptical training, using weight resistance machines, jogging/running, riding my bike thirty or forty miles. And doing mud runs, also called “obstacle challenge races.” Basically, slogging through mud, crawling under barbed wire, climbing over wooden walls and such.

I haven’t done any significant training in several years but I still like to do the mud runs. Like “Conquer the Gauntlet.” CTG has always been a challenging four-mile obstacle run but it has morphed into something more like “American Ninja Warrior” with a cross-country run thrown in for good measure. My participation in the most recent one near Springfield, Missouri two days ago was a bit humiliating. Just a bit.

Tough obstacles I could barely do eight years ago were impossible Saturday; I simply don’t have the necessary upper body strength. Gaining weight while losing muscle mass is pretty much the opposite of what I needed to do. In addition to that frustration, CTG has added new obstacles that only elite athletes can complete. I watched several hard-cut body builders and weightlifters fall off early while attempting them. Made me feel slightly better as I walked around the hanging rings and slippery chains.

“Well,” I consoled myself, “at least I can complete a four-miles of muddy, hilly terrain… I think.”

From looking at the course map earlier, I knew at a certain point that I had to have completed the first mile, but I missed seeing the marker. My legs were already sore and my right knee was starting to hurt. (Remember that lack of training thing I mentioned earlier? Yep…) I was getting a bit discouraged. “Man! I’ve lost so much strength! I am SO out of shape!”

But, I kept walking, trying to focus on the obstacles I had already completed and hoping I’d be able to finish most of the ones that were left. But, most especially, focusing on completing the four-mile trudge through the mud and up and down these Ozark foothills.

“Surely I’ve gone at least a mile-and-a-half,” I hoped as I rounded another bend in the trail and came up to the next obstacle—a balance challenge—walking along the wet, muddy edge of a group of 2×6’s connected at right angles across the wet grass. I couldn’t have done that without slipping off when I was eighteen!

But, I saw a marker. The most encouraging marker I’d seen all day. In fact, it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen any sort of marker that so quickly lifted my spirits and gave me such encouragement. A small white sign setting right on the ground with a big ole Numeral Deuce painted on it.

“Two miles! Holy cow, I’m halfway there!” I exulted. “All right! We’ve got this, baby! Woohoo!”

Even with two more miles of mud and gravel and uphill slopes and gravel and grit, I knew I could do it. I would surely be sore and tired and a bit more humiliated by the things I couldn’t do but knowing I was half-through—yeah, that got me pumped.

There are lots of things that we can’t tell if we’ve made it halfway or not. Raising kids, training horses, building a church family, forging a strong marriage relationship… No “Halfway There!” markers for those things. Even when we know we’re halfway through a year—especially a teacher’s school year—we don’t know that we’ve already accomplished half of the work or experienced half of the challenges.

But, maybe, if we look back and take a moment to truly appreciate what we have already accomplished; if we think about the things that we’re already endured and overcome; if we reflect with genuine gratitude on the grace we’ve already experienced and remember the Divine promises; then surely we can be encouraged and take heart that we’ve made progress and that all of that effort will one day be rewarded.

If we do not give up.