Why Do I Run?

I love my running time.  I love starting my day before dawn, seeing the light of the sun shining like Prevenient Grace, coming well before the sun rises.  I love the pound of my feet on the ground, especially when I get to run on a trail.  I love the quiet time with God. I love starting my day with Him. 

That's why I run.  What do you love to do?

Better Than Winning My Age Group

I think I've won my age group twice. I really only remember once. It was in a winter 5K cross country race (not the road race I'd been expecting). For winning, I got a really cool blue blown glass Christmas ornament as a prize.  It still has the little paper tag to tell me that it was for first place in my age group - not that I need the reminder. 

The reminder that there were two of us in the age group, and the other guy had possibly never run a 5K before.

Anyway, I almost won my age group at the Sweet Corn Festival 5K.  I would have won it had I run it.  Let me explain: I did run it.  Twice that morning. I went out early and ran the course as fast as I could, and finished in (my PR) 19:27.  Which, as I look at the results, would have gotten me first in my age group.

But I didn't run it that fast with everyone else. Instead, I ran it with my son, Jonathan.  You'll need to go to the second-to-last page to find our finishing time, but believe me when I say that running the race with my 6 year old son, who ran or walked the entire 3.1 miles without stopping, was better than winning my age group.  For an age group win, I would have gotten a medal, which would have found a home in a drawer.  Running with Jonathan gives me a fantastic memory that will last a lifetime.

Hard

God never told us life would be easy.  In fact, Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16:33b) But The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him. (Nahum 1:7). This is why Jesus went on (in John 16:33) to say "But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Life is hard.  But God is good.

Serving Others

Back in January, in a sermon, I referenced a story Mike Yaconelli told in his book Dangerous Wonder. In this book, he told this story.

Our town is small by California standards – one traffic light and six thousand residents.  One Sunday morning I was preaching about the unconditional love of God, a love that was outside the lines and resulted in the church loving outside the lines.  Our church is different from most; the congregation feels free to interrupt me during my sermons.  Just as I was finishing, a sixteen year old girl said, “This is a good sermon, Pastor, but I was thinking that if we are supposed to love outside the lines, then I know how we can do it.  In three weeks the Siskiyou County Fair is coming, and with the fair come the ‘carnies.’” (The “carnies are itinerant workers who operate the rides of the traveling carnival.  Every year the carnies are the talk of our rural town.  Most of them are tough-looking and scary with lots of tattoos, huge muscles, and hard-looking faces.  People always make derogatory comments about them.)

The high school girl continued, “I was thinking that instead of making fun of the carnies, maybe we should have a dinner and welcome them to town.”

The church agreed, and this young girl organized the entire event.  She called the manager of the fair for permission, called the owner of the carnival to see if they would want a dinner.  The carnival owner suggested a lunch just before the fair opened.  “Okay,” said the girl, “We will barbeque hamburgers and cheeseburgers and have salads, desserts, and soft drinks. All you can eat.  How many can we expect?” After some thought, the owner said to expect fifty. 

The day of the lunch about twenty people from the church showed up to help serve. There was enough food for seventy. At twelve-thirty when the lunch was to begin, only four carnies showed up. By one-thirty, however we hadn’t served 50 carnies, or 75 carnies, or even 150 carnies.  We had served 200 carnies. When it looked like we would run out of food, the young girl came running up to me, the pastor , and said, “We’re running out of food.  GET SOME!” We did.

When the lunch was over, numerous carnies came up to the young girl and thanked her.  One older lady who had been working carnivals for a long time said, “I have been doing carnivals for forty years, and this is the first time I’ve been welcomed to town.” The all-you-can-eat carnie lunch has been going for seven years now, all because a teenage girl was naïve enough to believe God loved a group of carnies as much as He loved her. (Mike Yaconelli: Dangerous Wonder, NavPress. 1998.)

Some members of the congregation heard this story and it stuck with them.  The gears began turning, and they decided, "Hey, we have a festival here in Millersport... and they employ people to work the concessions and rides... we could have a meal for them, too!"

So today was the day when we served them... and it was fantastic!  We served lasagna, bread, salad, cake, and ice cream, and it was great.  I got to greet them and say a blessing - we welcomed them to town and thanked them for serving us, because we love our Sweet Corn Festival, and without the rides and concessions it just wouldn't be the same. 

I found out a lot about the people who worked the rides.  Several of them were from Turkey, Ukraine, and Russia - they were university students who came here to work for the summer before going back to school.  The entire group wasn't your stereotypical "carnies" - they were clean, appreciative, and no more tattooed than the rest of society.  And they really appreciated the welcome they got to Millersport from the church.

Best yet: everyone who served was extremely excited to serve and wants to make it an annual event.

Running With the Boy

Ever since I can remember, I wanted to run.  My family would drive past the local middle school and would dream about running on the cinder track there - but I never actually asked my parents, "Could we stop so I could run on that track?" It wasn't until I was actually in middle school that I got to run there... and I loved it.

A couple of years ago, my oldest son, Jonathan, decided he wanted to run a 5K with daddy.  So we worked it out this way: I ran the race at my pace and then came back and caught up with Jonathan and Tara (who was also pushing barely-2-year-old Andrew in a stroller).  Jonathan had run at a sprint to start, but he needed some motivation... and having Dad there helped him.  We were the last ones to finish, but if you ask Jonathan, he'll tell you, "I ran a 5K... and I won!"  Maybe he was remembering going up with me for my age group award.

Last year it just didn't work for the family to run the race (with Baby J less than 1 month old), which was disappointing, as the "under 11" age group was wide open.

This year, Jonathan wants to run the race again.  And we've been preparing.  He knows the strategy: don't run too fast, and if you need to walk, just go ahead and walk, but keep going.  I told him I would bring water so he can have a drink whenever he wants one. We've been out on training runs together, and he's excited about the race.  Last week we went on our bikes to see the race course - and although he's only been riding a two-wheeler for a week or two, he was up for the whole thing.  And more.

We'll see how things go on Saturday.