I am a runner. Some people do not like running, but I love it.[1]
I began running regularly about sixteen years ago and have not looked back. It is my exercise of choice. It also permits me to mull over ideas that elude me otherwise; I have composed numerous articles and portions of manuscripts whilst on a greenway or trail. Furthermore, running is therapeutic, allowing me to process my thoughts and emotions in a manner that other activities do not. Running is also fun—even freeing.
I appreciate that the Scriptures talk about running (in a manner of speaking). Much like the imagery of walking (Psalm 1:1–2; Ephesians 4:1, 17), the Scriptures also use the related imagery of running to describe the Christian life, which is itself an extension of the imagery of walking. Just as someone may walk in the way of the righteous or the wicked, he may also run in the way of the righteous or the wicked. While some “run in the way of [the Lord’s] commandments” (Psalm 119:32, ESV), others “run to evil” (Proverbs 1:16; Isaiah 59:7). Other passages tell us we can run well the race of faith by sharing the gospel (Galatians 2:2), obeying the truth (Galatians 5:7), and holding fast to God’s Word (Philippians 2:14–16). But in this article, we will reflect on the truths of running to win, running with endurance, and running to finish.
Run to win.
The regimens professional athletes follow often stagger the imagination. Whether your sport of choice is baseball, basketball, football, hockey, or soccer—or running—the habits of the elites are astounding. Elite runners, for example, run 100+ miles per week, eat a regimented diet, and sleep eight to ten hours a night during a training cycle.
Meb Keflezighi is a retired American professional runner. He is also a Christian who authored 26 Marathons: What I Learned About Faith, Identity, Running, and Life from My Marathon Career.[2] His commitment to discipline led not only to a longer-than-normal professional running career but also to winning gold, silver, and bronze on numerous occasions in a wide range of competitions.
He participated in various running events at the Olympics, even winning silver in the men’s marathon at the 2004 Summer Olympics. He won gold at the 2009 New York City Marathon and the 2014 Boston Marathon. This latter win was especially meaningful because it was the first time an American had won gold at Boston since 1983, and it so happened to occur on the one-year anniversary of the tragic Boston Marathon bombing of 2013. When Meb ran, he ran to win; he ran for the gold.
In his first epistle to the Corinthians, Paul spoke to the importance of running to win the prize: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it” (1 Corinthians 9:24). Christians should run the race of faith like the elite runners run their races: not merely to finish but to win.
We run to win by disciplining ourselves spiritually. The elites do not arrive on the start line unprepared. The same holds true in the race of faith. Thus, Paul underscored the importance of:
- self-control, “Every athlete exercises self-control in all things” (9:25);
- purpose, “So I do not run aimlessly” (9:26a); and
- discipline, “But I discipline my body and keep it under control” (9:27a).
In the race of faith, we must train ourselves accordingly.
Run with endurance.
Sometimes races go perfectly, and everything clicks; but often they do not. Runners learn to expect the unexpected. Perhaps they make a silly mistake, such as tying their shoes too tightly or beginning the race too quickly. Perhaps they hydrate insufficiently or surge the lead pack un-strategically. Other times, external factors impact performance, like hot temperatures, high humidity, or fierce headwind.
Of course, anyone who has run a marathon knows about “the wall.” This expression refers to a point in the race, often between 18–22 miles, where competitors feel utterly depleted—lacking energy, lacking strength. Related concepts are the “pain cave” and the “struggle bus.”
Sometimes, in the race of faith, we stumble, and sometimes we fall hard. Other times, the world seems to crash down around us all at once: work is in its busy season, the family is grieving the loss of a loved one, and the roof at home is leaking. When the race of faith does not go as planned, when we hit the wall or enter the pain cave, we have one of two options: we can let it get us down and quit, or we can press on toward the goal—and, in the process, learn perseverance, tenacity.
The author of Hebrews tells us to “run with endurance the race that is set before us” (12:1). The race of faith is less of a short-distance or middle-distance race and more of a long-distance race: think marathon or even ultramarathon.
We persevere by ridding ourselves of anything slowing us down: “Let us lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely” (12:1). Runners racing to win run as lightly as they can. Their clothes and shoes weigh mere ounces. We also persevere by considering Him who has run before us, namely Jesus (12:2), “so that [we] may not grow weary or fainthearted” (12:3).
Paul also enjoined us to endure, except that he used the language of “pressing on”:
Not that I have already obtained this [resurrection from the dead] or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. . . . But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:12, 13b–14).
When struggle arises, we endure, we press on, by ridding ourselves of encumbrances and by looking ahead rather than behind.
On May 6, 1954, the Englishman Roger Bannister became the first person to achieve the seemingly impossible: break the four-minute mile, running a 3:59.4. However, the record was short-lived because, approximately a month-and-a-half later, his rival, the Australian John Landy, broke Bannister’s record, running it in 3:57.9. The two fastest milers on earth: what if they were to race?
The fateful day came on August 7, 1954, when the rivals raced at an event billed as the Miracle Mile. For most of the race, Landy led the way. But then, as they headed into the final stretch, Landy made a small but significant error: he glanced over his shoulder (almost imperceptibly). Landy took his eye off the prize, and Bannister passed the record-holder to win the race (3:58.8) with Landy coming in only 0.8 seconds behind him (3:59.6).
We press on by forgetting what lies behind and straining for what lies ahead.
Run to finish.
By running to win and running with endurance, we can, one day, say with Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). Paul wrote those words whilst in prison in Rome, near the end of his life. Whatever we face in the race of faith—whatever the mistakes, whatever the trials—resolve to finish.
The same year Meb ran and won the Boston Marathon, another man, from Massachusetts, also ran that race. Unlike Meb, he did not have a good day, but he made it to the end—almost. Near the 26-mile marker, his legs began to wobble; the next moment, they gave out: he literally could go no further. But then four fellow runners surrounded him and supported him and, finally, carried him across the finish line. The crowd cheered as loudly as they had cheered all day at the solidarity these runners provided.[3]
Some people win big like Meb; others struggle mightily like this gentleman. As Christians we all run the race of faith and struggle to varying extents. While Meb reminds us to run to win, this runner reminds us we all need one another. “Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). The race of faith is not a solo race; it is a group effort, where those strong in the faith help those who are weak in it, so we all can say, “I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.”
Conclusion
As a cross country coach, one of the common excuses I hear from people not wanting to run is, “I don’t like to run,” to which I quip, “But one day you will. Why not get a head start?”
Invariably, he or she will look at me with a quizzical expression, after which I quote from Isaiah: “They who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint” (40:31). Interestingly, C. S. Lewis echoed this verse near the end of The Last Battle after the protagonists have entered the true Narnia: “Faster and faster they raced, but no one got hot or tired or out of breath. . . . So they ran faster and faster till it was more like flying than running, and even the Eagle overhead was going no faster than they.”[4]
So maybe some people do not like running today, but one day they will—if not in this life, then in the next. In any case, the Scriptures treat running as an apt analogy for the Christian life, reminding us to run to win, run with endurance, and run to finish, so that we may run well the race of faith God has set before us.
[1] This article is an adaptation of an article that first appeared as “Running Well the Race of Faith” in The Brink Magazine 14, no. 1 (Fall 2022): 28–32.
[2] Meb Keflezighi w/ Scott Douglas, 26 Marathons: What I Learned About Faith, Identity, Running, and Life from My Marathon Career (New York: Rodale, 2019).
[3] Wesley Lowery, “The story behind the Boston Marathon photo of runners carrying a competitor toward the finish,” The Washington Post, April 22, 2014, https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/post-nation/wp/2014/04/22/the-story-behind-that-boston-marathon-photo-of-runners-carrying-a-competitor-toward-the-finish/.
[4] C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle, chapters 15–16.
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