Because on the surface, it’s just a race, 26.2 miles, months of training, and a lot of effort. But somewhere along the road, between the crowds, the pain, and the finish line, I realised this wasn’t just about running.
Of course, there are the obvious parallels.
The language overlaps so naturally: run your race (Hebrews 12:1), the great cloud of witnesses cheering us on (Hebrews 12:1). The crowds in London were indescribable. The energy, the noise, the finish line, it all speaks.
There are also the practical lessons. Training takes discipline, consistency, endurance (1 Corinthians 9:24–27). What you learn in preparation shapes you for so much more than just a race (Galatians 6:9).
There is the importance of honouring God with our bodies (1 Corinthians 6:19–20). Looking after ourselves through exercise and nutrition matters, impacting not just our physical health, but our mental wellbeing too. The reality is, neglecting our health often impacts the quality and even length of our lives.
For me, there’s also the example it sets for my children. Showing them that if you work hard, stay committed, and don’t give up, you can achieve great things (Proverbs 22:6).
And then there’s the experience itself. Someone asked me recently, “Do you pray when you run?” My honest answer is, “Not really as most people would consider prayer.” But I feel God’s presence deeply when I run (Psalm 16:11).
It’s also opened doors for the gospel. Through training, I’ve built more genuine relationships with people who don’t yet know Jesus than I ever have before (Colossians 4:5–6).
But for me, this race all comes down to one simple truth:
Jesus said:
“I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) Life in all its fullness. Life abundantly. A rich and satisfying life.
What does that kind of life actually look like? Because if we’re honest, a lot of people, even Christians, aren’t living like that.
Let’s be clear, abundant life isn’t about chasing comfort.
Does it include suffering? Yes (James 1:2–4). Pain? Yes. Endurance? Absolutely (Romans 5:3–4).
Suffering is hard. Sometimes it feels confusing, silent, even meaningless. But God works deeply in those moments, refining us and forming something stronger within us. Just like a marathon, the pain is part of the process.
I’m also not talking about chasing temporary highs or living for the next thrill. I’ve seen people build their lives on that, and they’re never truly satisfied.
I think life in all its fullness looks more like this:
Joy (Romans 15:13).
Strength (Isaiah 40:31).
Faith (2 Corinthians 5:7).
Peace.
Wonder.
Growth.
Wholeness in how we think (Romans 12:2).
A sense of excitement about life again.
Walk along the riverbank. Climb the mountain. Paint the picture. Read the book. Learn the new skill. Laugh deeply. Spend time with people who make you better.
Dream again. Be content in the present while still daring to believe for more. Reach for the goal. Believe for better.
Life does indeed have seasons (Ecclesiastes 3:1). There are times when capacity is limited, when responsibilities are high, when certain things just aren’t possible. But too often, what starts as a season becomes a mindset.
Jesus didn’t come merely to get us to heaven, He came so we could truly live. And I sometimes wonder if many Christians actually believe that.
A full life in Christ is not separate from mission, it actually fuels it (Ephesians 5:15–16).
So what did running the London Marathon have to do with Jesus? For me, it was simple. He wants me to experience the fullness of life He created me for. He wants me to enjoy life.
I had the best time. I enjoyed it. I lived out something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.