How I Finished Number One at the Maryville Marathon

June 12th was the placeholder for one of the most interesting events of my life. I had spent the previous four months training rigorously with the end goal in mind to do one pivotal thing: run a marathon. On a historical note, the marathon race commemorates the run of the soldier Pheidippides from a battlefield near Marathon, Greece, to Athens in 490 B.C (Note: I am relatively certain he was running from bullies making fun of his name contrary to historical references to the contrary). The trek involves running 26 miles and 385 yards to parallel Mr. P’s Paul Reverian pattern. I would like to briefly state the Christian significance of this run to me. I may stretch Scripture in a way only paralleled by late night televangelists and Christian Bookstore junk counters here, but I pray God can somehow get Glory from these thoughts. In machine-gun format, here it goes:
The weather: I had spent months dwelling on the prospects of a 95 degree day with humidity. Much of my training had taken place in the comfort of either my cool basement on the “treadmill of doom” or on the roads in the springtime. Changing the climate (back off Al, that’s not what I mean) to a more seasonally appropriate one was certainly a matter that tested my faith. Come race day, God put a beautiful spin on this concern. Rather than a scalding day like I deserved or a 60 degree paradise that I prayed for, God brought a severe thunderstorm. The first half hour took place in a toad-strangling, lightning sizzling downpour. The rest of the day, minus a brief shower late in the marathon, was in the high 70s and cloudy. God is Good.
The consequences: The weather’s consequences, other than a more comfortable run heat-wise, were two-fold for me. First, it fried my MP3 player. I had trained for months with sermons from my favorite preachers playing to keep my mind off the pain. God clearly had other ideas. I ended up essentially praying for the entire marathon. Not a pharisaical showy, uber-religious minus substance type of prayer, but prayer nonetheless. Second, it led to me trusting in God on every step. Funny how you hear yourself run when you listen. You hear every breath as well. Your mind doesn’t tune out or focus on an external thing like a sermon…it just listens. I am not one to say that I (or most others for that matter) hear audible voices from God, but in my soul I sensed God with me every step of the run.
Pain: I ran the first half of the race (there was two 13+ mile laps over the hills and through the woods to reach the Grandmother’s place/finish line) at a slightly more brisk pace than I usually ran. I was running with the big dogs or little ones in this case. Then it happened…I stepped on a providentially placed rock in the bull’s eye of my arch of my foot. I felt like I had had my foot dissected by a clumsy seventh grader who hadn’t finished scalpel-safety training. My foot, being protected by my size 13 Reeboks, wasn’t cut, but the damage was done. From that step to the end of the race I slowed down drastically as every other step sent a sharp pain through my body. Foot pain is no stranger for someone who used to be 400+ lbs, mind you, but this was different. It threw my stride off which hurt my hips which left me waddling like the Emperor Penguins we saw the next day at the Omaha Zoo. This reminded me of a danger that we all face in our spiritual race, if you will… that of pride. Any hope of avoiding embarrassment time-wise was quickly dashed as I lumbered along like a wounded hippo waiting to be lion food. Pride, for runners, is something to be extremely conscious of. The runners there spent hundreds on clothes, equipment, and external things only to finish with stains ruining their garments from blood (apparently it’s a “runner’s thing” to bleed out of every rubbed/worn spot….sorry for the image.) Regardless, it was easy the previous few months to spout off the fact that I was running this race to all who would hear it. Pride lurks and is sinful. Proverbs 11:2(KJV) says “When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.” And Proverbs 29:23 reiterates “A man's pride shall bring him low: but honor shall uphold the humble in spirit.” I needed the attitude adjustment to my pride that this well placed rock afforded. (Note: I would title this piece “How I Finished Number One at the Maryville Marathon” because I was given runner number one either because I signed up first of because I am alphabetically favorable as an A.). Tack to Pride the idolatry one can easily fall into from spending too much time training (sorry family), and the sport, like many perfectly good pursuits, can cause one to stumble.
Conclusion: I would say that the run was a good experience for me. I was surrounded by a loving family and friends whom I deeply appreciated for coming. I grew in my love for the Lord through trusting Him in His faithfulness in the quiet of the race despite my unfaithfulness in pride and otherwise. My racing days are likely now over as I move to another, more edifying pursuit, that of teaching myself Biblical Greek. Thanks for your prayers and support to all and I hope to see you again here or on the radio program Wednesday nights at 8:30 on 107.7 or at dogandponyradio.com. God Bless!