Running the Race, Keeping the Faith

I'm a loner in life.  I like to do things by myself, for the most part.  Don't get me wrong - I like to have friends and time to hang out and relax.  But when it comes to accomplishing something...I prefer to do it without help.

Maybe that's the control freak in me coming out.  Letting someone else help me might mean the job isn't going to get done quite right.

Or maybe sometimes I'm too afraid and proud to ask for help.  Don't want to appear weak and incompetent.

I've been training for a half-marathon, now a mere five days away (yikes!).  And I've been training by myself.  The main reason for doing this feat alone isn't so much the "control freak" part as it is the "freak" part.  Just about everyone I know around here would rather jump into a frozen lake in February than run thirteen miles.

So for the past twelve or so weeks, I've been training on my own.  Up before the sun, even on Saturdays, trying to get this non-runner body in enough shape to endure a final two-plus hours of pavement pounding.

But this weekend, I stepped outside my bubble and ran alongside a friend in a 10k road race as we each flung one foot in front of the other on our path to next weekend's finish line.

Jennifer has also been training for this half-marathon, and she was gracious enough to let me run with her Saturday morning. 

She wasn't gracious enough to slow her pace to make it easier for me to keep up.

And I wasn't about to admit that I wanted her to slow down.

So, for six-plus miles (that felt much more like twelve), I pushed myself to keep pace.  Around mile four, as I was panting and sweating all over the place, I thought how the journey of a Jesus-follower was much the same as what I was experiencing.

It's much easier for me to run my life-race in my own way, at my own pace.  But it is so very necessary for me to come alongside other Christians - younger ones to spur onward and encourage, and more mature ones to seek guidance and encouragement for myself.  I prefer to be comfortable, but it's more important for me to be pushed.

And so I continued to pant and sweat, trying to give this race my all (because isn't the purpose of a race to run in such a way to get the prize?).  Then I finally heard Jennifer say the sweetest possible words:  "Let's finish this together."

She continued to spur me on, even as we rounded the last bend, silently encouraging me to pump my now-numbing legs even harder for a solid finish.  How glad I am that I didn't decide to give up and let her run ahead of me while I settled for my own comfortable pace.

We each finished with the exact same time, with a pace that surprised the wet socks off both our feet.  We finished with a deeper sense of camaraderie, and satisfaction of a job well done.

And I finished with a new awareness of the need to push myself to keep step with those in faith who are stronger than me.  Because when I finish I want to hear the words, "Well done."