What is Mile18?

My name is Kirk Stewart. I’m a husband, a father, a pastor, a software developer, a Biblical counselor, and among other oddities, a runner. I don’t fully know why I enjoy running – maybe it’s the freedom of being alone with my thoughts or just being outside or the self-reliance challenge or maybe I’m just weird. But I truly do love to run. That said, I’ve never been one for being very intentional about it. If I have a little time, I go run. No agenda. No plan. Just get out there and sweat. I’ve been that guy since high school – dabbling in the hobby just whenever I could. When I turned 40, I decided to stop just being a dabbler and challenged myself to take my 25 years of running addiction and apply it to a marathon. 26.2 miles… How hard could it be?

At the time, I was working for a company that was the sponsor of my particular marathon. They sent word out that they’d pay for any employee that wanted to run it. My thought process was, “I’m turning 40, I’m awesome, so I’m in.” But, I really didn’t share it with anyone. Maybe it was because I really wasn’t awesome and didn’t want anyone to hold me accountable if I decided to back out – nah, that couldn’t be it – it was just because I, uh, just forgot to mention it TO ANYONE.

I really meant to train specifically. But, it really wasn’t in my DNA. I run when I have a little time and can best not bother anyone with it. So, I continued on that course. We got closer to the race day and I knew I hadn’t given the training all I need to, but it slipped out of my mouth to my wife a few weeks before. She did the oddest thing – she gave me this “I’m proud of my awesome man” look. And with that, the window of backing out was painted shut. No turning back.

Race morning came, I showed up with thousands of other runners who all seem to have cool running clothes that I did not, water bottles strapped to their waists, great shoes compared to my bargain-bin mismatches, and a look of confidence that they were prepared mentally and physically that I certainly did not have. I was beginning to doubt my awesomenessivity (not really a word, but should be).

I lined up not knowing what in heaven’s name I had gotten myself into. The countdown hit zero and we were off and running.

The first 12 miles of the 26.2 miles was a blur. I was running at a Steve Rogers pace and yelling out a very arrogant “on your left” as I passed the other mere mortals that were in MY race. On my numbered bib that all runners wore boldly displayed “KIRK” and all of the extremely fortunate people that were blessed to cheer me on that day were proclaiming “Wow – look at KIRK!” “Way to go, KIRK!” “KIRK just passed yet another runner!” “I’ve never seen anyone as great as KIRK!” (I may have indulged a few of those, but you get the point.) I, very literally, at about mile 11 remember thinking (and I may have even audibly mumbled) “God created me for this”.

I passed the halfway point and in the Little Rock marathon. That year to start the second have of the race, you had to go up what felt like a 20 mile hill. I’m pretty sure it was an 89˚ straight up hill. My herculean stride reduced to choppy steps like I was trying to hurt the pavement. When I finally made it to the top, I realized going down was actually going to be more difficult. My feet began to hurt, my knees felt like someone had replaced my ligaments with ground up glass and my self-confidence was turning to self-loathing.

Awesomenessivity – maybe that doesn’t need to be a word. I was just about done. I didn’t want to stop and walk, but at this point, those that were there cheering had changed their sense of awe to their sweet words of pity “Hang in there KIRK”. “You got this KIRK.” “Do we need to get the para-rescue people for you KIRK?” My mumblings went from “God created me for this” to “God, tell my family I love them and just take me Home.”

There was a sign up ahead – I had lost all sense of where I was (or WHY I was). It said Mile 18. Are you kidding me? I’m just now at Mile 18? That means I still have 10 more miles (I know that’s not correct math – but YOU try to cypher big ol’ numbers when YOU’RE praying for Elijah’s exit). It was then that I realized it. I NEEDED HELP. I should have prepared for this! I should have actually paid attention to a training regimen. And, honestly, I just didn’t see it coming. I thought my awesomeness was enough. Turns out, it wasn’t even close.

I found out later that Mile 18 is traditionally the hardest mile of the marathon. Physical exhaustion sets in which gives way to mental and emotional frustration. You’ve just completed a major feat – running 17 miles, but you still have 9.2 miles to go. It can be overwhelming. It can be defeating. And, it can be soul-wrenching.

In your life, there is a Mile 18 coming. In your marriage, in your parenting, in your relationships, in your emotional health… there’s a Mile 18 coming. A time where you realize you need help. Maybe it’s a time where you are just ready to quit. That’s what Mile18 Ministries is all about. We want to honor God by being a help as you either prepare for that Mile 18 moment by getting you spiritually ready to face that very difficult thing that you didn’t see coming. Or, perhaps you are rounding the corner to it now and realize you are not prepared. There’s hope for you, my friend. God wants to come alongside you and help get your legs back under you. Mile18 wants to help by administering God’s word, a friendly ear to listen and connecting you with people that will help support you as you re-engage the race.

Your marriage (or just life in general) is a marathon. Whether you have trained for it and are ready for every mile or you are running your marathon like I did, find help in God and in those around you. If Mile18 can help with that, it’d be an honor for us to do so.

Don’t give up! Run with perseverance and lean on that cloud of witnesses that surrounds you (Hebrews 12.1). Run your race in such a way as to receive the prize (1 Corinthians 9.24). You are not alone. For help, Contact Us!