He was a little overweight. The rest of the middle-school runners had passed him by. He was mumbling an apology to us cross country spectators as he labored past us–something about why he got a late start.
I yelled back encouragement: “Just keep going!”
The older, wiser dad standing next to me didn’t yell at all. He calmly, firmly put the boy at ease: “Don’t worry about that. Run your race.”
I keep hearing those words as I go through the week. Run your race.
“Let’s roll.”
We are all running a race. I write this on yet another anniversary of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. I spent the day tutoring 8th-graders who were not alive when everything changed.
Not a one of them knew that Todd Beamer uttered “Let’s roll” as he made sure a jet would destroy him and his fellow passengers instead of destroying a single other American soul or symbol.
Beamer ran his race. He was 32. It was a sprint.
He left a pregnant wife to run her race, raising their kids, speaking about Todd’s legacy, and enduring intense media interest and public speculation.
She is still running. It is a marathon.
If it turns out I’m running a sprint, I hope I am able to do it. I pray I am so sure of my convictions that I joyfully storm the terrorists in the cockpit. I hope I run my race.
And if it is not meant to be a sprint, I hope I stay the course for the marathon. I pray that I am present with my wife and kids. That I say no to the unethical business deal or tempting proposition. I hope I run my race.
“What’ll that get you?”
The real question is, why bother running at all?
We’ve talked about cross country races before, using one of my favorite coaching questions: “What’ll that get you?”
I don’t know your answer to that question, but I bet I can rule out that you would run the race of life for wealth and pleasure. You’re probably thinking more about relationships, whether with loved ones or with God.
I would add to that list something that may seem blasphemous: honor.
Not fame. Not your 15 minutes. Not going viral on social media. Honor: recognition because you are worthy of the recognition. I have heard employees white collar and blue talk about making the owner of their business proud … including owners who had passed away. I’ve talked to boys and girls young and old wanting to live up to their daddy’s reputation. I’ve witnessed teams rural and urban taking pride in receiving glory despite their underdog status.
I admit there is a fine line between this pride and the sin of pride. But consider St. Paul.
Toward the end of his life, Paul told his young disciple, Timothy:
For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.
That crown awarded to Paul is the stephanos, the laurel wreath placed on the head of champions in ancient times. They still show up on our trophies. It’s why we still use the names Stephen and Stephanie (and Laurel!). It is the very symbol of victory. A great honor.
But why? What’ll that get you, Paul?
The Revelation at the end of the Bible has the answer: In chapter 4, the throne room of heaven features the multitudes spending time adoring God. Some do this by casting their crowns before him. And the words they repeat: “You are worthy.” You were worth all this effort. I was “poured out like a drink offering,” and now I offer what I won in life back to you. You were worth the race I won.
The long view
About 30 minutes after my daughter finished the cross country race, we heard wild cheers from the finish line. The young man had run his race. He may have pushed harder than the victor. He certainly earned some glory.
Today I’m not going to think about competitors and spectators.
I’m going to think about the young runner. I’m going to think about Todd and Lisa Beamer. I’m going to think about Paul.
I’m going to run my race. I’d like the honor of doing them all proud.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. …
Hebrews 12:1
(Want more cross country inspiration? See this recent podcast episode.)