The Race of Our Lives...

My family was attacked on Monday. Not my immediate, biological family. I've never even met most of this part of my family, and it happened over 900 miles away. But still, they are my family. We are related by our common, insane passion for an ancient sport that clears the mind, melts pounds, sharpens character, and inflicts the most joyful pain imaginable.

I've been a runner for almost 27 years...and I don't use that term lightly. I started putting one foot in front of the other at the age of 11...and NEVER stopped (except for brief breaks to birth 5 babies)...and I WON'T stop, until God decides I've taken more than my fair share of steps. (Go ahead. Start the Forrest Gump comparisons :). I'm short, have bad running form, and my lack of coordination is the source of many family jokes. But God chose running as the avenue to bless the socks off this small town girl. It's how I met my husband. It's opened doors to travel across the country and to meet friends from all over the world. It paid for college, and it even added a few more dollars to the bank account afterward. It definitely channeled high energy and a strong will in the right direction and fostered self-confidence, a strong work ethic and the type of self-discipline that I want my own children to learn. I am a runner...and I am a running fan...just like those straining toward the finish line & those cheering on their loved ones Monday in Boston.

I've raced in everything from the small town fundraiser to the Chicago Marathon;  from High School Cross Country races in cow pastures to US Championship races; and from the endless circles of a 10,000 on the track to the Olympic Marathon Trials. On the roads, on the grass, on the track...runners are different from everyone else, yet SO much like each other. Races are a special kind of sports venue that you don't just explain with words. You FEEL them in every fiber of your being. Every sense is challenged: from the sight of pain stricken faces and blister-bloodied shoes to the sound of pounding feet on the pavement just after the bang of the starting gun; from the smell of stinky socks and icy hot to the taste of dripping sweat. And every runner who's had a time goal can relate to their physical feelings fluctuating between the complete euphoria of a runners' high and an unbelievable, excruciating head-to-toe pain. Whether you're a front-running elite athlete or a back of the pack plodder, swearing you won't walk...you have all these things in common, and you cheer FOR each other.  Are there many other sports where competitors pick each other up after they've fallen across the finish line? Stand nervously at the start wishing each other "good luck" and passing along a warning to stay to the right because there's a pot hole 50 yards ahead? Encourage other competitors as they pass and urge them to stay together to catch the next person ahead? Oh, yes...we want the prize...we want to beat others...but we REALLY want to beat the clock and ourselves. We want to overcome those fears of failure or desires to give up, so we can post a new personal best.

If you've never been to a big race, do your family a favor and GO! I'll never forget crossing the finish line of the State Cross Country Championship my Senior year of High School and seeing a crowd of my friends-many of whom had never been to a race of any kind- and most of them had tears rolling down their cheeks. They couldn't believe the excitement and energy in the atmosphere...they said they felt like they were running the race WITH us. How many other sports allow ALL the spectators to stand so close they can hear the athletes' labored breathing and see the sweat pouring down their focused or pain stricken faces? Basketball fans are often referred to as the "6th man," and any runner will tell you that the right words yelled along the race course at the right moment can make the difference between a personal best and a DNF (did not finish). Runners often wear shirts decorated with their names so people will cheer for them individually, and families make signs spurring on their loved ones. My parents traveled all over the country to support me, and the final time I saw my dad's huge, proud smile was after I crossed the finish line of a big race...an image forever burned in my mind's race "scrapbook." Some of my most vivid race memories are of my husband running to multiple points on a course to tell me my position or hearing my High School Coach's motivating words when I couldn't even see him...or even a complete stranger cheering me on during a lonely portion of a long race...each word of encouragement helping me dig down a little deeper so I could keep going and maintain or regain focus. Yes, the spectators are a vital member of the running family.

I think that's why this horrid, evil act of terrorism gutted me. Road races represent all things positive: a family event with a sense of community that promotes a healthy lifestyle, self-discipline, hard work, personal sacrifice, and an indescribable camaraderie. It's an atmosphere filled with celebration and mutual respect. Competitors share common goals that are only attainable by persistently logging the miles and maintaining a positive outlook...no shortcuts, no excuses. It is a mindset completely opposite of the evil people who seek to inflict harm or to rob us of our freedom. Evil has invaded and forever changed an open, safe, celebratory event for the running family and their spectators.

Notice I said changed, but NOT defeated, nor ruined. Not only are runners relentless in their efforts, but they're also RESILIENT. How else do you describe a person who crosses a finish line puking, dehydrated, and aching from head to toe...but immediately planning the next race? When runners get injured from the constant pounding of their training, they don't quit...they hop on a bike or take to the pool until healed, and then return to running and their carefully planned goals. Guess what, evil doers? Runners are tough, determined, and not easily swayed. It is no coincidence that the Bible repeatedly references running, and that many people use it as a metaphor for life. Our sport is one of courage and encouragement. We will train harder, band even closer together, and refuse to lose to you. EVER.

"But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. -Isaiah 40:31

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. -Hebrews 12:1