My love for running started way back in 1978, when I was in
6th grade and our elementary school had a track team. I got to run the long distance run – 400
meters – which is one lap around the track.
For most runners, that’s not really a long distance. But for a fifth grader, it sure seemed like a
long distance!
We had one track meet.
It was the city meet held at the high school track. I remember very well getting ready for the
run. Clear sky. Bright sunshine. Temperature in the 60’s, maybe 70.
We lined up for the race.
Eight ten year old boys. Me in my
red shorts, red tank top, and red and white shoes. School colors. The gun sounded and away we went.
I remember receiving advice from my Dad before the
race. He said, “Pace yourself. Don’t
start out too fast.” I took his
advice to heart. I started out slow. When I reached the far side of the track the view
for the spectators was obscured by bleachers.
As we entered that part of the race and ran behind the bleachers I was in
last place. When no one could see me I
picked up the pace and made my move forward.
By the time we came out from behind the bleachers I moved
from eighth place to third place and gained ground on the front two
runners. We entered the final stretch of
that one lap around the track the lead runner and I battled it out for first.
In that last 100 meters I gave it my all and we ended up crossing the finish
line together. My first race!
For a number of different reasons I didn’t run track again
and I didn’t race again until I ran cross country as a senior in high
school. I never again finished as well
as I did that day. In fact, when I ran
cross country I never finished near the top.
I finished closer to the back of the pack in every one of my races. But
I finished.
It was another 26 years after my last cross country meet
that I took up running again. I’m a
better runner now than I ever was in high school. I know more about how to prepare for a run –
what to eat; how to recover, how to start a race, and how to finish. And I’ve experienced
my share of setbacks in the form of a torn hamstring, torn meniscus, along with
the more minor discomforts of blisters and blackened toenails.
In 1 Corinthians the Apostle Paul writes: “Do you
not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the
prize? Run in such a way that you may
win it. Athletes exercise self-control
in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an
imperishable one” (9.24-25)
These words help me think of my own spiritual journey as a
race. I'm not in this race to finish
first. In fact winning this race is more
about finishing than it is about being ahead of others. Like in running I encounter things that trip
me up and set me back. Blisters on my
soul rather than my feet. Wounds that
make me stumble as I seek to follow Jesus.
Like in my own running I ask myself:
- How am I running this one wild and precious life I’ve been given?
- How do I rest and recover?
- How do I care for the blisters on my soul?
- Where do I look for support from others?
The Christian race is not so much about coming in first, or
placing in our age group. It is,
however, about running in such a way that we finish the race. And it is
in finishing that we win.
