In the Long Run

B. is a fantastic swimmer.  She has this innate ability to hop into a lane at the pool and just slice through the water; it's stunning.  I, however do not swim well.  My legs just don't propel me like they should, the kick has never been right for me.

I much prefer to run.  Or bike, but that's another story.  I discovered the joy of running the same way I discovered numerous hobbies and habits as a teenager:

There was this girl...

There was a girl who liked running.  I liked her, so I only thought it appropriate that I should like running.

Now, just to emphasize how truly whipped I was, I had sworn off running a couple of years previously; I didn't see the point to it.  You sweat and exhaust yourself by literally going in circles, how could anyone enjoy doing this?  But I tried it again and again, I got a cheap little 1GB MP3 player from Wal-Mart to keep me from getting bored of listening to my own breathing which helped improve things tremendously, and I started running further and further.  I would finish my loop, only to discover that I still had a little more energy left in me, and expanded my route to cover more ground.

I grew to love it.  I still love running.  I love challenging myself, stretching and improving my body, racing against the ghost of my best time or longest distance.  I'm not super tall, my legs aren't long and spindly, I won't be winning any track medals anytime soon.  I'm no athlete, but that's ok; running has become more than just a healthy past time for me.

There is something a good run will do to clear the mind.  I go on therapeutic runs sometimes.  If I'm stressed and not too exhausted, I'll often be out running a 5k to clear my head and refocus.  It's more than just mental maintenance, though.    

A really good run does something to your soul I think.  Pushing your body to new limits, coming to peace with your own thoughts are wonderful byproducts of a good run.  But I run for deeper reasons than that.

Why do I run?


Luke 24:12
Then arose Peter, and RAN unto the sepulchre; and stooping down, he beheld the linen clothes laid by themselves, and departed, wondering in himself at that which was come to pass.


I love Peter.  His impulsive impetuous soul was so flawed, but Christ entrusted him with much.  It really gives me hope that I can make something of myself.  When steered in the right direction, Peter was a fearsome force for good.  He worked on impulse; he didn't wait for the others to come and see the sepulchre.

He arose and ran.  

I run because Peter ran. 

Because I hope to be running towards a greater goal, a better day, a land of promise, a mansion prepared for me in the house of my Father.  I know it's there waiting for me, and I can get there if I live right and rely on the mercy of Christ.  I know it's there.  That's my finish line.  Why wouldn't I want to hurry?

Why wouldn't I run?

Because in the long run - in this long run - that's what matters most.


What are you running towards?


S