Ramblin' About Running

So I ran, and I use that term loosely, my first (and possibly only) half marathon last Saturday. It was hard. It was painful. I learned a lot.

First off, I should start by telling those of you who don’t know me very well that I don’t like to lose. It’s one of the worst feelings, to me. I don’t enjoy doing things that I’m bad at or struggle with. Sometimes, if I don’t think I’m going to be good at something, I just won’t do it. I know what you’re thinking, “Wow, that’s really arrogant.” But let me explain…it is; you’re right.

So when some friends and I decided to sign up for this race in December, I immediately set my goal at being the best, being first. Now, when we signed up for this race, I was, by far, the slowest, least experienced, basically worst runner among us. That didn’t matter to me, though. I do things to win; to be the best. And I had every intention of being the best at this, too.

As I started running more than I have ever run in my life, I began to realize this was going to be hard – much harder than I thought. And I think we all know that’s just not fair. I like a challenge, but it’s not supposed to be “hard.” I should have to work at it, but with a little work it should come easily, right? No. You see, because of my previous rule of not doing things I’m not good at, I rarely do things that don’t come easily or naturally. Unless something or someone is chasing me, running doesn’t come naturally. I’d like to blame my parents (and that would be totally legit), but this isn’t about them.

I did train for this run, but I was not as disciplined as I should have been. There’s no need for details, but let’s just say I could have trained harder. But I didn’t. So now it’s race day. I know what you’re thinking, “I bet your natural athleticism and the adrenaline carried you through in record time to the finish.” Nope. I struggled through about 11 of the 13.1 miles. (By the way, that last 0.1 is really the worst. I think if I ever run another one, I’m going to run the 0.1 miles at the beginning instead of the end.)

James says that trials produce steadfastness, which makes us complete and lacking in nothing (James 1.2-4). Paul says that sufferings produce endurance, which in turn produces character (Romans 5.3-5). I must have a pretty complete character after that race. There were a lot of trials and sufferings that day.

So what was the result? Every single one of my friends who ran beat me. Two of them beat me by about 45 minutes.

It was humbling, to say the least. God has been revealing so much pride in my life lately, and I have been asking Him to humble me. He obviously took that request seriously.

Three years ago, maybe even a year and a half ago, I don’t think I would have been able to talk about it. I would have been so mad. I’m not sure I would have even ended up running the race if I thought I was going to do so poorly. Now, don’t get me wrong, this is difficult for me to write about. I still don’t like losing or, in my eyes, failing. I don’t think I’ll ever be ok with it. It’s just that now it doesn’t weigh as heavily on me as it used to.

So why can I write about it now? What changed? I just grew as a person and matured to this point on my own, right? Not a chance. I think I’ve revealed enough character flaws in these few paragraphs (and don’t worry there are more that weren’t mentioned) for you to know that I didn’t get here on my own.

Thankfully, God doesn’t expect us to do it on our own. He knows we can’t. He loves helping His children “lay aside every weight” (Hebrews 12.1). He loves taking our burdens (Psalm 55.22) and giving us His light burden (Matthew 11.29-30). It’s easier if we will let go of the burdens when He tries to take them, but He loves us so much that He will rip them out of our hands, if need be.

Obviously this isn’t just about running or even losing a race. We know that, “while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Timothy 4.8). I said before that I was not disciplined in my race training. That had an effect on the short race last weekend. But we know that we’re all running a longer, much more significant race (Hebrews 12.1-2) that has eternal implications. The training and discipline we subject ourselves to in this life will affect our life to come. I don’t want to stand before my Heavenly Father, the Creator of the Universe, and tell Him that disciplining myself for the blink of lifetime on earth was just too hard or didn’t come naturally, so I just didn’t do it. I don’t want to tell Him that because I wasn’t great at it, and because I kept failing, I just decided not to do it at all.

He loves me regardless, though. My actions or lack thereof cannot change God’s love for me. They cannot change the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross to save my soul. But knowing that, why would I not want to discipline myself to be more like Him? Why would I not want to use everything He has given me to bring glory to Him? Why would I not want to do everything I could for Him to one day hear Him say, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25.14-30)?