I Ran the Race

Friends, this post ends a 5-year stretch of my personal stewardship of this blog. In gratitude for your readership, and as a ministry of furthering the reflection here, my blog will branch out to include community writers. These guest-posters will reflect on how they are answering God's call to live out their vocation. This new series will be published once a week under the title "the72." A fuller explanation will follow in the next post to this blog, accompanied by a redesigned page-look and a new link into Twitter. Stay tuned!

As beautifully described by Love Actually, the arrivals gate at airports is one of the most beautiful places in our world. The many reunions of travelers returning to their loved ones rarely feature animosity, conditions, or disappointments. In pure moments, the longings of two hearts meet in loving embraces.

I wasn't able to come home for Christmas my first year out of college because I was living in Ireland. The next year, when I flew back home from seeing friends in Arizona just before Christmas, I remember the joy of walking up to my family's car. My dad helped my luggage into the car, and my brother was riding shotgun. Then, as I opened the door, I saw my mom sitting there behind the driver's seat, and after buckling up, immediately fell sideways into her waiting arms. It was the securest, warmest embrace I'd had in a long time, and as I laid there for a bit too long, I'll never forget her saying through oncoming tears, "Best Christmas present ever."

Recently, I ran a couple of 5k races. I love running for so many reasons - good exercise, cardio, calorie burning, relaxing solitude and/or dynamic company, and the time outdoors. And I love racing even more.

For the first time since I ran a 10k and half-marathon back in Wexford, Ireland in 2012, I decided to choose a 5k and train up for it. Signing up to race is great because it grounds and directs my training and adds purpose to an activity I already enjoy, ratcheting up my fervor and passion an extra bit more.

Because, you see, now on top of the reasons I listed above, I get to activate my competitive side, which is a large "side" of me (does that make me lopsided?). And the beautiful thing about running is that, unlike other sports, there's no offense, defense, or scoreboard. There's very little stats. There's you, the course, and the clock. Other runners are there, but they are just variable buoys on the sea of a race that challenge you to identify a pace and run a particular race. Some runners zip out sub-five-minute miles while others hope simply to break a 10- or 12-minute pace. And this is a time when relativity is perfectly acceptable. Regardless of your pace, it's primarily about setting a goal based on your own ability and track record, and aiming to meet it.

Personally, I wanted to match or beat my college personal record (PR) of 21:27. As I trained, I found the results page for the previous renditions of this race. If I came close to my PR, I'd finish in the 75-100th place range in a field of 400-500 runners, and I was a bit intimidated by the crazy times I saw registered at the top of those fields.

When race day came, it was the usual spread of runners of all ages and builds, and sure enough, up at the front, were "those guys" in singlets and short shorts, weighing all of 100 pounds, and ready to get out way in front of the field. It was challenging to find my place in the pack early in the race as some people passed me while I passed others. I settled into a decent groove and hit the first mile marker in 6:50. I managed to beat my PR with a final time of 21:08, 44th place overall among 436 finishers, and 33rd among men.

As I settled my hyper body with a slow walk and cold water, I grabbed some food and water to have ready for my fiancee as she finished. I did some quick math and guessed an ETA for her. So after a few minutes of cool-down walking, I went up along the edge of the course to watch people finish.

It was great to hear the varied shouts and cheers, as spectators eyed their friends or family who were racing, and the runners searched for their supporters in the crowd. I even saw one beleaguered middle-aged man veer toward his buddies on the side of the path and reach a Barney-armed high-five to them as he doggedly neared the finish.

As the clock got within 4-5 minutes of my estimated ETA for her, I was watching more and more people whizz by in the home stretch when I saw a pale green shirt on the far edge of the path - there she was! Coming in ahead of the time I had guessed (and what she might have guessed too), she zipped over the finish line, and I ran to meet her with Clif Bar and water in hand.

I walked some cool-down time with her and gushed over her surprising time. I was so impressed that she came in so far ahead of where we might have guessed she would. Something about the race and the run pushed her to a stronger pace, which I thought was pretty awesome.

Running and racing are great because it's about finishing the race with vigor and striving for your goal. I was never gonna beat "those guys" running 15-flat, but you bet I could beat my previous self - and I did. My fiancee wasn't going to beat me, but she could outgun her earlier times and finish hard - and she did. And even those people who finished in 40 or 50 or more minutes, they got the same applause and ovation as the earlier finishers. Because it's all about racing yourself and finishing strong.

And so much of it is relative. I ran another race three days later. Different crowds, different demographics. Ran a similar time but finished 4th. Getting that place is neat, but ultimately, it's the race against myself that trumps the rest. And just the same at that race, the later finishers got as much or more acclaim as the "better" runners.

Much like the arrivals gate at the airport, people at the finish line don't care about petty conditions or quantifiable stats. They just want to cheer you on, to embrace you to the finish. They want you to summon that last bit of energy and push hard across the finish line. No one wants to knock you down or trip you up - everyone just wants you to give what you got through the end.

This is the challenge of our faith. Like "those guys" in my race, some may appear to be coasting to great spiritual results easily, but it is up to them to know they are capable of a higher moral standard and strive for their sainthood accordingly. Some people may be like "average" runners, going to Mass "most" of the time, praying now and then, and sort of getting by spiritually; they have to race themselves, striving to improve bit by bit, even if they may never run a 5-minute spiritual-mile. Others may be like those who jog so slow they're almost walking, but these people are still called to finish their races, even if it take 15 minutes for each mile.

And no matter how soon everyone gets to the finish line - of a particularly hard day or week, of a friend's illness or family death, of a spell of unemployment, or a personal dark night of the soul - we must be there to cheer on our brothers and sisters, regardless of their ability and finishing time. We should be conduits for the love of God in our support, to help others approach the finish line with strength, giving what they have left to complete the race.

In The Parable of the Good Employer, Jesus tells us about a landowner who hires waves of workers in the morning, midday, and end of the day. Though some worked longer than others, he pays them all the same. The lesson? God takes care of anyone who makes the effort to freely choose love and undertake the task. And He wants us to worry about doing our own part diligently and receiving what is just without comparing our result to others.

Regardless of how long or hard your race is, God is waiting at the finish life of every day, every week, and every good or bad spell of life with a bottle of water and a Clif Bar. God needs each of us to be His hands and feet in cheering each other on. Through us, Christ can help all of his brothers and sisters to run a good race and sprint through each finish line in life, all pointed toward building the Kingdom on earth and becoming part of it forever in Heaven.