November 10, 2012
“Do you
not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the
prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who
competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a
crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last
forever. Therefore I do not run like someone running
aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No,
I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have
preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize.”
1
Corinthians 9: 24-27
“Therefore, since
we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off
everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run
with perseverance the race marked out for us.”
Hebrews
12:1
“Not that
I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but
I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers
and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one
thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I
press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has
called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”
Philippians
3:12-14
(I
am not one for grabbing a concordance and slamming scripture together. Forgive
me that I have apparently done such today. But, as running was the theme of my
day, and these verses came to me in the midst of my run, I thought for sure
that I must reflect and share on them today. Please don’t let meaning and
context offset the value they have to this reflection.)
I like to run. Well, let me take that
back. Sometimes I like to run. Most of the time I like what happens to me as I
run. I like the feeling of accomplishing something. I enjoy the endorphin rush
as stress releases from my body. I crave the sensation of a hot shower and a
hot cup of coffee after a good hard run. I feed off of the thrill of finishing
more times that I do the process of running. But I still run 4-5 times a week
because, well, most of the time I guess I do like to run.
I was angry again this morning. Anger
is not something I experience much these days. But something in my heart was
burning hot, furiously. So I woke up at 5:30 am, put on my running shorts and
shoes, a heavy pair of sweatpants and sweat shirt, and got in my van well
before sunrise. I drove downtown, where I had run a hundred times before, and
most recently in a half marathon race with a good friend just a month before,
and I took off on the road.
I used to run with music. But some time
ago I found that distracted me from the rhythm of my heart, the connection
between my mind and every footstep, so I ran naked today, relatively speaking
(even in the cold, I abandoned sweatpants, sweatshirt, long sleeve, and
headband and just ran in shorts and shoes), and I ran and ran and ran.
When I started I told myself I wanted
to run eight miles. I have been, since my last half marathon, trying to
maintain moderate distances so that I could run another half marathon soon or,
god-willing, finish my first full marathon. And then my steps became light as I
stretched out toward the sunrise. As darkness faded and the sun crept over the
Hart Bridge and reflected off the water and the city buildings, I found a
peculiar joy in each step. And then the verses came…
And man did they slam my heart! I am
not one to memorize scripture very well. I remember the “big picture” ideas and
cling as best I can to those. But this morning it felt like each word was
singed upon my heart. And maybe, as a Christian, it was.
I have run three races in the last six
weeks and none have been run competitively. In each race I trained simply to
finish, to keep the company of my beautiful partner and to simply run. I could
always have run faster and harder, but that was never the point. The point was
simply to finish next to her.
But this morning as I ran, I thought of
my high school days of running cross country. Part of me despises how
competitive I was then. But one thing was certain, when I ran, I pursued a
prize. I sprinted every step of the three-mile race, saving only enough energy to
turn it up at the end and finish strong and hard. I ran fast and I ran hard and
most cases I had to be carried off by someone because I could not carry my own
weight.
And as I ran today I wondered, toward
what prize have I been running lately? And have I run with perseverance and
persistence, or only enough pizzazz to pose as someone who took running
seriously?
So four miles turned to six, as I
crossed the bridges again and ran deeper into the other side of town. Six
turned to nine as I doubled back along the river walk and crossed another
bridge. Nine turned to twelve as I raced past the parking lot and considered
stopping. Then it really hit me, I could run forever on this morning if only my
legs would carry me.
I have not had a goal for which to
race, so my training has simply been to run, rather aimlessly. Which, in
itself, is not a bad goal. But what if there is something more that I am being
called to do in my running? What if this is my chance to discipline myself, to
not run “aimlessly” and to abandon those things that hinder me, and instead
press on toward the goal to win the
prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus?
It sounds
kind of foolish to think that every step today was a step toward eternal
victory. But what if it was?
Twelve
miles turned to thirteen, as I again crossed over paths I had run earlier
before the sun had risen. Thirteen turned into thirteen point one… thirteen
point one five… and then I realized, this was my race today – just to
persevere.
And I tell
you, in a non-Forrest Gump manner – if I could have run all day, I would have,
because each step this morning was not about me. It was about perseverance and
endurance. It was about discipline and proving to myself that I could go one
more step. It was about picturing a life where I would strive to excel, to take
one more step, to run a second faster, to push and to strain and to try to be
just a little better than I was when I began.
Because,
after all, my life is not about my glory and where I finish. It is about God’s
glory. And if I run, I should run so as to win the prize – whatever that might
be.
My next
race will be on Thanksgiving morning. And I won’t have a race bib or timing
chip. I’m going to “poach” on the race and just show up to run. And while I
know I will not win the race, a half-marathon along the river, I am certainly
going to run as though I will. And with no bib and no race chip, nobody will
know that I have run and nobody will know how I have finished. Nobody will know
how hard I push myself or how many times I will want to give up.
I am
running this race alone, and I am not running it for any prize that I might
receive at the finish line. I am running it because I can, and I will run hard
because I choose to. And whether you or anyone else will see me run, I run not
for your applauds or even for myself. This race I am running for God. This race
I am letting go of what is behind and straining for what is ahead…
This race
I am going to run, and to pout my heart and body into the street to finish… not
because I have to, but because I choose to… because there is a prize awaiting
me at the finish line, a man who gave His all to say “Well done.” And what more
reason might a man run but to hear those words at the end of the race…
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