The Marathon of your life
Character and discipline: the road to the finish line.
On April 26, 2026, a man named Sebastian Sawe delivered a performance that turned the sporting world upside down. In London, the Kenyan ran the marathon in under two hours. For the first time in history, that “magic barrier” was broken in an official race; a milestone many deemed impossible. The runner-up, an Ethiopian, finished just over eleven seconds later. He, too, crossed that mythical threshold. Two men from East Africa doing on a single day what no human had ever done before.
An unprecedented effort.
A marathon of 42 kilometers and those extra few hundred meters is no walk in the park. It is a massive physical and mental challenge. For healthy people, it is certainly achievable, but do not underestimate it. Even if you are well-trained and your legs are accustomed to long distances, it requires a level of discipline that demands everything from you.
Everything within you is tested. You don’t run a marathon on character alone; you must approach it strategically, months in advance. You don’t just step off the couch and start a training program. You need at least six months of preparation just to be able to start a specific training schedule without getting injured. And that schedule itself lasts another sixteen to twenty weeks.
That is the standard. You build up your mileage weekly so that your tendons and joints slowly adapt to the enormous impact of running. And then begins the infamous “long run”: once a week, a distance of at least 30 kilometers. You train your body to use fat as fuel the moment your sugar reserves run dry. And that body of yours will scream bloody murder when you push through that limit.
The last 10 kilometers: that is the real race.
I have never attempted it myself. To be honest, I can’t imagine anything worse.
But those who do start a marathon will, sooner or later, “hit the wall.” Not everyone even makes it to the starting line, let alone the finish. This almost always comes down to three things.
First, the physical strain: every step is an impact of two to three times your own body weight. You train six to ten hours a week. Second, the mental side: around the 30-kilometer mark, the glycogen in your muscles is depleted. Your body begs you to stop. This is exactly where biology turns into psychology. It comes down to willpower, character, and pure perseverance.
And then there is the unwritten law of the marathon: the first 32 kilometers are merely the warm-up. The last 10 kilometers—that is the real race.
Hearing the Apostle Paul.
In this, I hear the Apostle Paul speaking. Paul, looking back at the end of his life, says: I have run such a marathon. In 2 Timothy 4:7, he writes: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness.”
I have finished the race. Those words sound like someone who endured those final 10 kilometers. Not like someone who threw in the towel halfway through.
A life with Jesus.
The life of a marathon runner bears many similarities to a life with Jesus.
You make a start at your conversion; that is the warm-up. In the first years, you begin to run, and your entire being must get used to the new situation. Your thinking, your habits, your entire system gradually adapts. Ultimately, it’s about enduring the race until the finish line, especially when you feel you can hardly go on—when, after years of faith, you go through difficult phases and your energy seems spent. That is when you need God to complete this journey.
Come as you are.
There is a well-known saying: you may come as you are. And that is true. But by running that marathon with Jesus—and this is my personal conviction—you do not stay as you were. You are shaped along the way. Your character changes; your thinking changes. You begin to look at situations differently; you learn to look above the circumstances, seeing things as God sees them. Your attitude toward others softens, and your priorities shift. Even how you spend your time changes: you take the time to truly meet with God.
Just as a marathon runner craves rest—because muscles only recover during rest, not during exertion—your spiritual life gains more depth when you seek the rest of God.
Psalm 84 contains something that always touches me (verses 5 and 7): “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage… They go from strength to strength.”
They receive that strength; they do not generate it themselves. In other words: you do not have enough strength of your own to reach that finish line or overcome all resistance. But those who find their strength in God go from strength to strength. They do not grow weary. On the contrary: as the goal draws nearer, the heart rejoices because the finish is in sight.
In 2 Corinthians 3, Paul writes that this change is not just internal but becomes visible in your entire posture: “We… are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”
Every mile counts.
You may embrace that first mile with joy: “Lord, thank You for this beginning, for this moment of surrender.” Then follow the tenth, the twentieth, the thirtieth mile. Each one a milestone you can look back on with gratitude.
But after the thirtieth mile, the lactic acid sets in.
That is when the tank feels empty. Everything inside you screams to stop. And then come the voices: “Just sit down. Take it easy. Put yourself first.” Voices of discouragement and disappointment. Voices that provide no fuel but act as a blockade. Paul warns of this in 1 Timothy 4: that times will come when some will abandon the faith, seduced by deceiving spirits that lead them off the path. Do not listen to those voices. They do not encourage you; they hold you back.
But Paul does not let himself be seduced. For 2 Corinthians 2:14 says: “But thanks be to God, who always leads us as captives in Christ’s triumphal procession.”
Paul ran his own marathon. Five times he received forty lashes minus one. Three times he was beaten with rods. He was stoned, shipwrecked, imprisoned, and betrayed. He knew hunger, sleepless nights, and immense spiritual pressure. And yet, at the end, he could say: I have triumphed. Through Christ.
“I can do all this through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).
His victory was not a sporting triumph, but a spiritual marathon. And that is exactly the race you and I are running. A journey together with Jesus, led by the Holy Spirit, with the end goal clearly in sight.
In this story, I actually see two runners: Sebastian Sawe, who pushed the boundaries of time, and Paul, who sought the boundaries of eternity. Both show that the finish line only gains meaning through the road you traveled to get there.
So: persevere. Keep going. Keep running.
@wimvanputten