Endurance. The word itself might make you think of struggle, long-suffering, or just pushing through pain. That's certainly what I used to believe. I thought endurance was all about gritting my teeth, being unhappy, and somehow surviving life's challenges. But today, after spending some quiet time reflecting, I realised something powerful: endurance isn't about being miserable – it's about keeping on. It's about staying the course, no matter how rocky the path might feel. And it's not something reserved for Christians or any specific group of people. Endurance is for all of us.

I realised this most vividly during my early morning runs in London. Let me take you there.

It was still dark when I'd lace up my trainers, pull on my hoodie, and step out onto the pavement. At first, running felt impossible. I had no stamina, no rhythm, no idea why I was even doing it. I'd tell myself, "Just take it slow." And I did – for a while. But as I jogged through the streets, other runners passed me. Some looked at me, and I felt it: judgment. Suddenly, I wasn't just running at my own pace. I was pushing myself harder, faster, trying to keep up, trying to "prove" I belonged on the same road as them.

But here's the truth. I couldn't keep up.

I pushed beyond my limits, sprinting when I should have been pacing myself. And when I got home, I cried. Not tears of joy – tears of exhaustion and frustration. I was enduring, yes, but not in a healthy way. I was running someone else's race, not my own.

That's when it hit me: endurance isn't about speed or comparing yourself to others. It's about consistency. It's about showing up, whether you're sprinting, jogging, or even walking. It's about recognising that this run – this life – is yours.

When I started running at my own pace, everything changed. I didn't care if someone overtook me. I didn't care if my time wasn't impressive. I just ran. And yes, it was still hard, but it became joyful too. I started to celebrate small wins – shaving a few seconds off my time, running a little further than the day before. The tears of exhaustion turned into tears of pride because I'd stuck with it.

And that's the beauty of endurance. It's not about suffering; it's about continuing. It's about believing that no matter how impossible something feels, you can keep going.

Think of life like a long run. Sometimes it feels effortless – like a cool morning jog when everything's in flow. Other times, it's an uphill sprint, and every part of you wants to stop. And sometimes, you need to pause, catch your breath, and start again. That's OK. Endurance isn't about how fast you're going or whether people are watching. It's about showing up, staying the course, and trusting that every step, no matter how small, is progress.

If you're reading this and you feel like you're stuck, I want to encourage you: endurance doesn't have to be painful. It can be freeing. Like me on those morning runs, you might cry. You might stumble. But if you keep showing up, one step at a time, one day you'll look back and realise how far you've come.

So, start running today. Not literally (unless you want to), but in life. Find your pace. Embrace your rhythm. Keep going. Endurance isn't about suffering; it's about strength, joy, and the quiet determination to never give up.

You've got this. The finish line is closer than you think.

Running with God, endurance and most importantly, at my pace.

J2F