So As To Win

Debs asked, kindly, about the state of the ankle I sprained four weeks ago today:  I am almost entirely better.  I can't sit cross-legged for very long, which is a liability for an early intervention therapist whose working hours are mostly spent playing in the floor, and it is still a little tender to the touch.  But I finished a 5K on Saturday, and her question reminded me that I meant to post some thoughts on running.

I run at night, usually, in loops around our friendly old neighborhood.  I had never worried much about safety until my fall, when I sat on the sidewalk and cried with no idea how I was going to get home.  My first run at night after that was rather stressful.  The sidewalks are old and uneven; the streets likewise.  The streetlights are frequently obscured by the lovely old trees whose presence is normally one of my favorite things about my part of town.

I had talked to a PT at work about resuming running, and I took her advice to start out slow and easy.  I was a little obsessed with watching for obstacles (I tripped over a stick the night I got hurt -- just didn't see it until I was on the way down), but it's dark at 9:30.  Near the end of my run I was puffing up a hill (or what passes for a hill here in the flatlands), straining to see, hungry for light.  I ran out of the shadow of a tree and into a pool of light, and it seemed like such a gift.  I thought about Ransom in the Perelandran caverns, longing for light, and about how seldom we are in the dark these days -- or at least in physical darkness.  I thought about Ps. 119, about "Thy word is a light unto my path" -- it shows us where we are going, and how to get there safely.  And I thought about the beginning of the Easter Vigil, where we chant "Christ our Light, thanks be to God."  Our eyes are made for light, and in the darkness they strain and yearn for what they cannot supply themselves.

The 5K was tough.  I had been running 2.5 miles comfortably in the evenings, but Saturday was blazing hot here.  The course was unfamiliar and mostly blacktop, throwing heat back in our faces.  I was struggling.  The sprinklers were on around the park and we were veering toward them, parched.  As with darkness, real unabating thirst is rare these days.  I have sung "As the Deer" more times than I can count, but it hit home on Saturday, as I thought about what it means to thirst for God. I thought about the Samaritan woman, hearing for the first time about the gift of living water -- freely available, from a well that will never run dry.

I was hurting by the end of the course; my knee hurt and my ankle hurt and my dignity hurt because I had hoped to do better than I did.  My Joe said, "Mom, next time you should run faster so you can be the winner."  I said, "Oh, honey, I'd have to work really hard to be the winner.  Those ladies run a lot more than I do."  And then I thought about St. Paul, exhorting the Corinthians.  "Do you not know that the runners in the stadium all run in the race, but only one wins the prize?  Run so as to win."  Here in Self Esteem Nation we want to have lots of winners and no losers.  My boys all got medals for the fun run, just because they finished.  I see the drawbacks to competition, but we've lost something in making everyone a medalist.  How hard would I have to work if I wanted to win the prize? 

I am running toward an enduring prize, but I'm moving forward pretty slowly.  "Run so as to win" -- that makes me a little regretful about all the time I've spent doing the spiritual equivalent of 12-minute miles.  But here's a funny thing:  I went in search of the passage about forgetting what lies behind and pressing onward, which is not where I thought it was.  Instead I found this:

At the time, all discipline seems a cause not for joy but for pain, yet later it brings the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who are trained by it.  So strengthen your drooping hands and your weak knees. Make straight paths for your feet, that what is lame may not be dislocated but healed.

Onward, once more.

Comments

[Arwen]

Bravo and AMEN.

[gina]

On a really hard day altogether this was food for the soul...
We think of you all often and wish you the best!
I am amazing by your dedication (always) and depth of thought...
Gina :)

[gina]

On a really hard day altogether this was food for the soul...
We think of you all often and wish you the best!
I am amazing by your dedication (always) and depth of thought...
Gina :)

[gina]

On a really hard day altogether this was food for the soul...
We think of you all often and wish you the best!
I am amazing by your dedication (always) and depth of thought...
Gina :)

[gina]

Yikes...didn't mean to post that three times!!!! Sorry:)
Gina :)

[Sarahndipity]

Hey,

You've been tagged! See my blog for details. :)