About a month ago a couple friends invited me to join them on a 5K trail run. While I am fairly active, let’s be honest--I am not a runner! And runners are a breed of their own. However, I figured it would be a fun challenge to say I completed a race. So, the next morning I set out to see if I could run three miles. If my legs didn’t fall off and if I didn’t die, I would respond that I was in.
On that trial run, I had a lot of time to think. And amid the thoughts of “wow, running is hard” and “am I really going to make it up that hill” were reminders that we are all running the race of our lifetime. And there are many lessons for us if we open our eyes.
Last weekend, we ran the race. With scheduling conflicts for some of our friends, the group consisted of Colleen Nicholls, Michelle Russell and me. Colleen is great. She’s actually training to compete in an Iron Man race next month. I don’t know the particulars of that race, but I think it’s some insane thing like a triathlon with a marathon tacked on the end, just for fun! So this little 5K is like her warm-up lap. And I am just getting to know Michelle--but she seems great too. She moved into our ward about a month ago and while she says she’s not a runner, let me just say that she ran like a runner. So I warned them before the race that they didn’t need to wait for me. If I fell behind, they were welcome to continue on and I would see them at the end.
The morning of the race began with all 400 plus runners gathered around for an introduction and pep talk. The announcer reminded us of the good cause we were supporting (Children‘s Miracle Network sponsored the run) and I couldn’t help thinking of a Heavenly gathering I don’t really remember where I am sure we all got our instructions and reminders of the good cause we were undertaking. During her pre-race speech, she did mention one pretty good hill on the course that we would encounter, but not to worry, we would be able to spot it when it came. At that point I leaned over to Michelle and said, “That’s a real confidence builder.”
In no time, the race was on. All the runners moved to the start line, but only a few could start out the run in front. We hung back a bit and got our start as the group moved forward. At first, everyone clumped together and we were moving pretty slowly. But things thinned out eventually and we were on a pretty good pace. That first mile didn’t seem too bad. Since this was a trail run, we were out running on grass and the course seemed fairly flat. “OK,” I thought. “I think this is going to be alright.” Colleen and Michelle were chatting away. And while I wasn’t in the conversation much (talking requires breath, after all), I was keeping with them.
But soon enough, the terrain started to change a little. More trees, more turns, more ups and downs. And I started to fall back a little. “No big deal,” I thought. My only expectation for the day was to cross that finish line and I didn’t mind the pace. But true to her nature, Colleen slowed down until I caught up. I reassured her that I didn’t mind them moving ahead, but she shot right back that we were in this together and it didn’t matter how fast they went, we were running this together. How often has there been someone there in life to say, “Let me wait and run your pace so you don’t feel alone?”
As we continued on, the course changed from clean grass to muddy trail, the undesirable outcome of the rain the night before. And suddenly mud and leaves were caked to our shoes like 10-pound ankles weights, reminding me of the mud and leaves we take on through life’s journey that make the race difficult. Occasionally we had to take a moment to clean off our shoes and lighten our loads--much like life.
And then the hill came. We went down into the wooded area and had to come back up. As we started up the incline, Colleen leaned over to me and said, “Little runner’s secret--lean into it and take baby steps.” What a runner’s secret for life. Lean into the hills and take baby steps. Eventually we will make it to the top.
We did make it to the top, and still we pressed forward. But then more hills came, and more hills. Honestly, I don’t remember many downhills from then on out--logic tells me there must have been some--but there were several other significant uphills through the mud and leaves. And several times I fell behind, only to find Colleen and Michelle running back to stay by my side. How helpful it is when we have friends that are willing to make our run with us, keep us on pace, and encourage us on in our race. They could have gone on, focussed on their own time, and left me to finish alone. In the scheme of things, it would have been fine. But they were more concerned with the experience together than making it faster alone. How we could benefit from adopting that mentality in all things we encounter in our lives. Lifting and running along with others, even if it requires our slowing down and sacrificing our own interests at times, yields the sweetest rewards.
In the end I did cross that finish line just behind my friends. What an exhilarating (if not nauseating) feeling to finish my first official race. As all the runners stood around the finish line, trading war stories, and eating bananas and pumpkin pie (what a crazy end-of-race treat--but I guess that’s what you get in a race called the “Pumpkin Run.”), the announcer got back on the microphone. “I have been hearing some complaints that there was more than one hill on the course,” she admitted. “But if I would have told you what was ahead for you, you may not have run.” How true that was with that race and with our race in life. If we know in advance all the trials we will face, would we have courage for the journey? Sometimes it’s better to just take one hill at a time, mud on our shoes and all, lean into it, and take baby steps. Crossing that finish line is so worth it!
