A Grand Entrance

Somewhere around mile nine or ten of this morning's run, the old knee started to yell at me. I made it twelve miles. But coming up that last small hill, and hitting the final stretch that leads to my house, I hobbled like a character from an old Tim Conway skit.

And it got me thinking about how I want to cross the finish line of my life. Yes, as Christian I hope to enter heaven. And if all I can do is limp over the finish line, I'm good with that. But I want more. I want to cross the celestial timing mats with a kick.

Peter said it like this:

God will give you a grand entrance into the eternal Kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. (2 Peter 2:11, NLT).

He is, perhaps, making an allusion to the kind of reception a returning Roman conqueror would enjoy. I can imagine Peter received such a welcome when he entered into glory. Yes, he died in apparent defeat - crucified upside down. But he was a conqueror.

I'm a mediocre runner at best. But I know enough to realize that those finishing kicks are the result of decisions I make in training: Do I sleep in, or log that long run? Do I lollygag, or accelerate up the next hill?
Those choices bear fruit at the finish line. 

There are other decisions I make today that I'll feel at the ultimate finish line. Do I sleep in, or spend time in the scriptures? Do I claim my "me time," or serve my brothers and sisters?  Those choices will bear fruit at the end. They will determine whether or not I finish strong.

Determination at It's Best

Sergeant Noah Galloway, U.S. Army (retired), trains like a machine. Despite losing his left arm and left leg to an IED in Iraq, he's one of the gutsiest endurance athletes you'd be privileged to meet.

Last weekend, he was ready to compete in the Tough Mudder; a hardcore 12 miler stacked with 20 military type obstacles. And he wasn't planning to run alone. Noah and his sponsors had arranged for his friend Ilene to compete as well.

Ilene has brittle bone disease.

Read that last sentence again: A woman whose bones fracture under pressure and a soldier with only half his limbs intact trained to conquer the Tough Mudder. Unfortunately, the event was cancelled. But I'll say this; the fact that they even dared to prepare shows more grit than most folks ever muster.

Last week, Noah wrote:

Every single one of us has challenges in life. We all have excuses why we CAN’T do something. Knowing a one-armed, one-legged man and a woman with brittle bone disease are going to take on a 12 mile obstacle course this Sunday, will those excuses be relevant? Get out and do something.

That's what I mean when I say, Don't Slow Down.

You Ran a Marathon? That's Cute.

I saw that smarmy little bumper sticker on the back of a Jeep today.

The same vehicle had a "100" oval, so I'll assume the driver was an ultra runner. Which is great.

Anyone who can run 100 miles has my admiration. But so does the guy or gal who gets up off the couch and walks a 5K for the first time; and every hardy soul who limps over the timing mats after 13.1 or 26.2. 

Booker T. Washington said it best: 

Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome.

So conquer the obstacles that are in front of you right now. Run the race to which God has called you. In the end, His is the only approval that matters.

My Creaky Old Knees

Seems that my ancient knees go before anything else on a long run. I'm told that knee pain can be caused by weak hip muscles. If the hips and core are weak, good form goes out the window and stresses the knees. Makes sense. So, along with some knee strengthening exercises, I'm going to start cranking out Steve Pfiester's "Power Plank" routine a couple times each week. This is a killer core strengthening routine. Let's see if it helps.

Check out Steve's video. Try this one out for yourself and let me know what you think.

I Can Do All Things

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I started running this year, and I meditate on that verse often; usually when I feel like stopping. But, seriously, can I really do "all things?" 

After a long, sedentary time in my life, I trained for and finished my first 10K in 64:51. Nothing spectacular. It took the guy who won the race less than half that time to fly up and down Monument Avenue. So, if my faith was stronger, could I have passed him? After all, I can do "all things."

Not a chance. When Paul wrote the words, "all things," he wasn't referring to just any crazy idea that dashed into his mind. He meant that he could rise to any challenge to which God had called him. In his case, he was trying to live and minister while under house arrest.

So God had not called me to win that 10K. But I believe He had called me to get my butt out of my big red recliner, prepare for the race, and complete it. Through Christ, I was able to do that. 

I don't know what He'll call me to next. But I know this. He'll give me strength. And if I throw in the towel, it's not His fault.