Borrowing Another Runner's Stride

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.

Romans 3:23

Drafting in the Pack

I recently hit the half century mark on the old chronological measurement system. I can't really say that there's anything exciting or fantastic about this 'milestone' for me. Actually it comes as a swift kick in the groin. Yeah, sure its mostly psychological and doesn't really mean shit but that doesn't mean my brain is somehow immune from the ridiculous self inflicted mental soup I've been metaphorically pouring all over myself.

This fantastic shit show happened to coincide with another kick to the jimmies from my personal life. I've been trying to write about a sort of darkness or quietness that I experience in my 'spiritual' life and it seems that I've discovered an all new trench deep down on the ocean floor. I've been completely out of my noggin for the past few days and in a way that I'm not sure I've ever experienced. So over the weekend I was in a sort of damage control state and I don't think that too much of this post is gonna be all that related to the big Ggg man in the sky.

I just haven't felt all that much of a presence but I do know that it is precisely in these times when we should just keep moving forward. When it feels like your legs have turned to lead, your mojo has totally collapsed and every brain cell is screaming that enough of this is enough already. The worst thing to do in this type of scenario is to isolate.

So I went looking for some community and thankfully there are lots of run clubs in the city. Sometimes its good to roll up with a pack of psychopaths and borrow some energy. You don't have to navigate, set the pace or fight the mental battle alone. You simply lock your eyes on the heels in front of you, match the footfalls and let the momentum of the pack carry you through the dark mile.

I want to share a poem by legendary trail runner Ann Trason here because... well because you'll just get it.

THE CURRENT

We thought endurance

was about staying.

One more mile.

One more hour.

The stubborn arithmetic

of not stopping.

But somewhere out there,

after enough darkness,

enough dawns arriving

before we were ready,

something else began.

A current.

Not visible.

Not ours to command.

Only something we stepped into

at different places

and somehow we found each other there.

Years passed.

The body learned other distances.

Wanting grew quiet, then quieter.

The river went underground.

Still, water remembers

where it has been.

And sometimes

one person begins moving

and somewhere downstream

another feels the pull.

Not backward

to who we were,

but forward

toward whatever distance

is asking for us now.

Perhaps this is what endurance

leaves us:

not the finish,

not the miles,

but people

who remain in the current

long after the course is gone.

[Some people come into our lives because of

the miles.

Then, somewhere along the way, the miles become the

least important part.

The Current - by Ann Trason]

Dropping Your Guard and Joining the Pack

Drafting requires two things from a runner: proximity and humility. You can't draft off of someone if you're hiding three miles behind the pack and you can't draft if you're too proud to admit you need help keeping pace.

Reflection/Journaling

Identify the Isolation: In what ways have you pulled back and hidden your exhaustion?

Finding Your Pacesetters: Who in your life possesses a steady, battle tested faith whose stride you can lean on right now?

Taking the First Step: How are you gonna drop your guard and continue to reach out when you need?

Prayer

Father, forgive me for trying to always run this race solo. Forgive me for the pride that keeps me isolated when my heart feels dry and tired. Thank you for the gift of the pack and for the cloud of witnesses that have run this course before me. Give me the humility to pull in close, to admit when I am struggling and to borrow the energy of others when my own voice feels quiet. Help me stay in the stride of Your people today. Amen.