"Ye Shall Obtain"

Just a warning, this is a detailed account of my experience running my first 10K. If you don't want to read the details, skip to paragraph seven to read my stats.

I am not a runner. I hated running in school. I think it was in high school that I no longer hated it, but I still didn't really like it. I feel like I have been surrounded my lots of friends and family members who are runners. The two I've known longest are my uncle, Clark, and Shelly. Clark and his wife have run races ever since I can remember, and almost all of his kids, my cousins, are runners as well.

Most of my life, Shelly would run a three mile loop every day. When I was little, I remember riding bikes with my brother, Corey, and her, at the time, two kids, Tavin and Eden. As I got older, she would often invite me to run with her. I almost always declined. Rarely would I accompany her. And even then, I would only run with her for a mile. Then I would turn around and run that same one mile route home, while Shelly continued her loop. I remember thinking three miles was too far, especially because there were two pretty significant hills, and I refused to run on anything that wasn't flat.

In high school, I had so many friend who ran cross country. I remember they had shirts that said, "My sport is your punishment," or something like that. And I always laughed at how accurate that was. I remember watching their meets and being so grateful that I was just on the sidelines and not running with them.

I don't think I started to really enjoy running until I was in college. But, even then, I only ran a mile or two at a time. I ran my first 5K in 2013 with Corey (my brother), my cousins (Lahren and Dallen), Shelly, and Hansen (the Densley's third oldest). Last summer, I ran the Temple to Temple 5K in Provo (from the Provo Temple to the Provo City Center Temple), which was my second 5K. I didn't run the entire thing though. I ended up stopping to walk for about a block, which I was pretty bummed about. 

I made a goal at the beginning of this year to run a 10K. When I found out that Clark and his son, Nathan (my cousin), would be running in the Utah Valley Marathon, I decided I would run that 10K with them. In April, I registered for the Utah Valley Marathon - 10K. I started preparing for my race. Shortly into those preparations, I start to second guess myself about actually being able to run 6.2 miles, though everybody told me otherwise. A week and a half before the 10K, I hit four miles for the first time. That following weekend I FINALLY ran Shelly's three mile loop, which was quite an accomplishment for me. It was then I knew that I would be able to run a 10K.

This past Saturday, I ran my first 10K. My only goal was to run the entire 6.2 miles without stopping, and I did just that! My time was 1:06:43, which is the equivalent of a pace of 10:44 per mile. I placed 196 out of 371, 92 out of 218 for my gender, and 18 out of 34 for my division (female 25-29).

The race route was easy. The first 3/4 of a mile was downhill, and then the rest of the route was flat with no inclines. It was perfect for me! When I first walked outside, I thought it was pretty warm considering how early it was. Luckily, it ended up being overcast during the race, so that was nice. (I also dislike running when it's hot. I'd rather get up super early and run when it is cooler outside than sleep in and run later in the day.)

I knew I could have better prepared for the 10K, but I was confident that the time I had put in to getting ready for it would be sufficient. The first mile or two was fairly easy. Crossing the start line with so many people and running in such a large group was exciting and running down a pretty big hill was fun. I even passed quite a few people.

Occasionally, I would see people and/or signs cheering on somebody they knew that was running. Even though, I knew they weren't there for me, they gave me strength to keep going. When I got to the bottom of the hill, and we (the 10K runners) joined the half marathon runners, I had multiple people pass me. But I just kept my pace and pressed on.

However, around mile three, I was beginning to think I was crazy. I didn't know that I would be able to endure. I doubted myself as I thought about how I only made it to four miles before the race. I was tired, but somehow I continued to run.

Funny story... The first aid station was around that point. I had planned on not eating or drinking anything during the race since I'd only be running for just over an hour. But my throat was super dry, so I decided to get a drink. I told myself that I still couldn't stop running. I took a cup that was handed to me, which had Powerade. I attempted to drink it a few times, but it was pretty difficult to drink and run. So after I barely got two sips, I gave up, and threw away the rest of my drink. I didn't try to drink anything else until I was done running.

Here and there, I saw people slow down or stop running and walk, and it was super tempting to follow them. But I had made a goal, and I was going to keep going, even though it would have been much easier to walk. I just kept praying for strength and kept thinking, "You got this!"

Around mile four, I could see the middle spire of the Provo City Center Temple with Moroni peering out of the trees. Shortly after I spotted the temple, in front of LaVell Edwards Stadium (BYU), there was a small bright poster that had been taped on the back of a large sign. The poster read, "While I strive grief & pain, His voice is heard: 'Ye Shall OBTAIN!'" For me, those words were a tender mercy. "I Believe in Christ" is one of my favorite hymns, and nothing could have been more fitting in that moment for me. It was at this point that I knew I would finish, and it became easier to continue running. Again and again, I looked at the temple and repeatedly thought that I would finish. I could see myself crossing the finish line, and that was such a beautiful image in my head. Not once did I turn around.

Shortly after that tender mercy, there was a mister. I debated running through it. I'm not a fan of being uncomfortable while I run, and I was worried that being wet would be annoying. I decided to run through it anyway, and it was great! Soon I hit mile five and I could see the finish line. I started to anxiously anticipate crossing it. Just after that there was another mister, which I ran through. The misters reminded me of rainbow boosts on Mario Kart. The ones I usually missed as a kid, but when I did get them, I would speed up temporarily. That's exactly how I felt! The misters seemed to give me a boost of energy.

With about a half mile to go, I saw Zions Bank with a large sign that said, "FINISH STRONG!" I wasn't trying to get a certain time or pace, and I never speed up at the end of a run. But seeing that encouragement made me speed up for a bit, which ended up being in vain. I was coming in too fast to take pictures of the finish line, so I slowed down. I decided I wanted to record crossing the finish line. As I was taking video, to my surprise, I heard a man say, "Christina Hogewoning." Although I wasn't paying close attention, it sounded like he pronounced my last name correctly, which to me was miraculous. (Nobody ever says my name right the first time or even the second.)

*This is the video. If you listen closely, you can hear him say my name. PS It's a pretty bumpy recording since I was still running.*

Immediately after finishing, a missionary placed a medal around my neck. Then I tried to find water because that was all I wanted, but seemed to find everything except what I was looking for. Apparently, I had passed it because I had to back track to get water. Finally, I drank two glasses. Then I saw Jamba Juice and was SO excited to have a smoothie! (That is possibly my favorite thing to eat after a run.) To my disappointment, it was frozen solid. I ended up licking it, which the cup was small so it worked out.


I was so happy I was done running! I was even more excited that I had met my goal of running the entire time. I felt a little spoiled that 1 - a missionary greeted me as I crossed the finish line and was the one to give me my medal and 2 - the end of the race was at the Provo City Center Temple. (Only in Utah!)

I walked around enjoying the free food, taking pictures with friends, and watching many people finish the race. At one point, a friend of mine brought me another cup of Jamba Juice that I could actually drink. (Ironically, I finished the second before the first.) While I was hanging out near the finish line, I happened to see the first marathon runner, Stanley Boen (Santa Fe, New Mexico), complete the event. His time was 2:23:41, just 17 minutes after I finished. (The marathon runners started an hour before the 10K.) That means he was averaging five to six minute miles! Amazing!

After a while of visiting with friends and taking pics, I ran home. I only live a mile from the temple, so I thought it would be a piece of cake. Man, I was so wrong. Running just a mile has never been more painful than right after running a 10K. However, I did it! (So technically I ran a total of 7.2 miles.) I grabbed my DSLR and drove back to the finish line to watch my uncle and cousin finish their marathon.

I got photos of Nathan and Clark crossing the finish line. Around that time, it started sprinkling a little bit. Then Sonya (my aunt, Clark's wife, and Nathan's mom) took some pictures of all of us. I hung out with them until they left. I also saw some other friends while I was hanging out there. I never wanted to sit down so badly! My legs were just tired, but I didn't want to leave my family until they were gone. After the Tenney's left, I drove home and took a four hour nap. I was exhausted!

I am so glad I was able to run my first 10K this year! It was such an awesome experience! I had so many thoughts while I was running, and I may share those in a successive blog post.

Thank you, Sonya, for taking this photo! PS Behind me it says, "Pain you enjoy."

Faith: More Than a Feeling

This morning I had another opportunity to go through the Provo City Center Temple Open House with a friend from my ward. Right as we entered the temple, at the beginning of the tour, I heard a girl behind me talking about faith. She said that she has a hard time with faith because it is just a feeling. I was interested in how the conversation would proceed, but I didn't hear any further discussion. (Possibly because we had just entered the temple so they were no longer talking or they had gotten quieter.)

Her words have lingered with me since then. I wondered what I would have said to her if I had had the opportunity. My first impression was that faith is not "just a feeling." As I continued to ponder about faith, I thought about how faith is believing something you cannot see. Often it does start with nothing more than a feeling. But to me, faith is so much more.

I reflected about the blessing I have had of being a member of the Church for my entire life. On many occasions, I have tried to think back on when my faith became more than just a feeling. Every time I do, I immediately think of when I read the Book of Mormon for the first time. After I concluded reading it, I prayed to know that it was true. And the answer I received was, "You've always known it's true." That came to me as a thought, and I felt it was true. But within seconds of receiving that feeling, I knew my answer was true; I have always known it is true. In the scriptures, we read, "Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart" (D&C 8:2). That was exactly the confirmation I received. I knew in my mind and I felt in my heart that the Book of Mormon was true.

There was never a single moment that transformed my faith from a mere feeling into knowledge. Instead, it was through repetitious experiences I had with the spirit throughout my life. Many of which, confirmed to my heart and my mind that what I had felt, thought, read, or heard was true. My faith has become more than just a feeling because I have acted on what I was taught, believing it was true. Those actions lead me to gain a knowledge that what I believed was true.

Those who don't know about my childhood may think that my parents made me believe and/or forced me to go to church. Honestly, my parents had little to do with my testimony. I was born into the church, and I will forever be grateful to them for that. But I grew up going to church with only one parent. (For the first nine years of my life, it was my mom. After that it was my dad.) I have no memory of me at church with both of my parents. But I have a picture, I think on the day I was blessed as a baby, of my parents holding me in front of our church building. So we were all at church at least once. They introduced me to the Church, but I went because I wanted to. I believed because I wanted to. I eventually served a mission because I wanted to.

And because I had a desire, I was able to gain a testimony that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is God's true church on the face of the earth today, the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ, the Church was restored by the prophet, Joseph Smith, and Thomas S. Monson is God's living prophet who leads and guides us today. I don't just feel that these things are true, but I have come to know they are true.

Even though I have this knowledge, it doesn't mean that I no longer need to believe or feel that these things are true. The thing about faith is that you will never get to a point where you have enough faith or where you don't need it anymore. You have to continually believe and feel so that you will know and act.

Despite what I believe, feel, and know, the past year has been full of doubts. The thought that keeps coming back to me is something President Uchtdorf said in general conference a few years ago. "...My dear friends—please, first doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith" ("Come, Join with Us" October 2013 General Conference). At the time I heard that counsel, I didn't think it applied to me because I didn't need it. Usually it is easy for me to forget things that don't pertain to me in the moment, but ironically that phrase "doubt your doubts" has stuck with me. And it has help carry me through this past year when I did need it.

For the girl who struggles with faith because it's just a feeling, my second thought was, "Sometimes, so do I." And if I could have said that to her, I am sure she would have questioned why I keep going. Part of my answer would have been, "I doubt my doubts." We think we have life figured out and it's easy to believe and have faith. Then something unexpected is thrown in our path. Sometimes it is large enough that we can't figure out how to get around it. And sometimes it is so obtrusive that we can't even see past it. It can become difficult to maintain our faith in these situations. But I have learned that if I can doubt my doubts, I start to remember why I believe, and then I determine to keep believing. Eventually my doubts subside, and I remember what I know, which leads me to keep acting and believing. And my faith becomes more than a feeling. It is the driving force in my life that give me hope to move forward, makes me want to be better in every way, reminds me to hold fast to what I know, and gives me strength to keep going.