Dear Theophilus:: December 2003

Energy, Determination, Skill…and Grace: Baltimore Marathon 2003

There are those who like challenges and there are those who are simply crazy. Perhaps in the Christian realm we can call it "great faith" - or that could simply be my way of semantically covering my insanity. I'll let you decide after reading this article.

Our church is filled with interesting people, many of whom are driven and highly accomplished. I don't mean this in a negative way, as people often take it, but rather it's a compliment to those whom I believe God has gifted with an abundance of energy, determination, and skill that can be used for His glory. That is why it is no surprise that a good number of people in our congregation compete in long-distance running. Energy, determination, and skill. Yes, I would say these are definitely components of long-distance running.

So, how did I get involved in all of this? Normally I enjoy sports that involve explosive energy - football, primarily, but even wrestling. (Although being a gymnast involved gracefulness, that was never my area of expertise). I hated long distance. I used to say running was a sport they made up for people who were afraid of getting hit or couldn't catch. Well, the Lord redeemed my heart and soon I discovered the incredible challenge and the incredible blessing bound up in long-distance running.

I discovered that the Baltimore Marathon was on a Saturday, unlike most, which run on Sunday. Here was my chance. October 18th. Most people start training well in advance. I started training late. Being the eternal optimist, I figured that if all these people at church could do it so could I. Twenty-six-point-two miles couldn't be all that bad. I would only realize on race day how long 26.2 miles really was. (Next time you're in a car, zero the odometer and see how long it takes at highway speed). My training began sometime in August and I progressed slowly but surely from three miles, to six miles, to 11 miles, to 15 miles, and finally 17 miles. Training required an incredible amount of discipline because there were days when I was just tired, or when it would be 86 degrees and humid. I also had to discipline my diet, which, for those of you who know me, was borderline miraculous and supernatural. No longer could I eat fast food five meals a day. No longer could I dip my fries in mayonnaise. I was training for the Baltimore Marathon. I would need to become a lean, mean marathoning machine. The one thing I promised myself is that I would not stop, no matter what. All of the training, the diet for this one purpose: that even if I was the last one to finish, even if I had to borrow an elderly spectator's walker, even if I had to log-roll across the line, I would finish the race. Determination. Check.

As race day approached I read about loading up on carbs - and did I. I ate enough pasta to shut down South Philly. I'm talking boxes. I just wanted to make sure I had enough energy. I purchased energy bars and stopped all other forms of exercise. I even used the bannister going up the stairs to conserve some energy. Energy. Check.

Finally, my coaches Edwin Yang and Ray Ro gave me some pointers the night before: Vaseline in your armpits, advice on pacing, folding the cup into a "V" so you could drink without having to stop. Skill. Check.

They asked, "What time are you looking at?" I said, "Ideally, three hours, 50 minutes. If worse comes to worst, four hours, 10 minutes." After putting my race clothes into the dryer I uttered a simple prayer: "Lord, thanks for my health and the opportunity to even try this. Please teach me something of You tomorrow. In Christ's name. Amen." I fell asleep with Runners' World under my arm.

RACE DAY: I woke up to the three alarms I had set. Saturday morning, 5:00 am. The race started at 8:00 am sharp. Baltimore was two-and-a-half hours away. I quickly ran downstairs to get my race shorts and shirt out of the dryer. To my horror, I discovered that our dryer had shorted in the middle of the night. My clothes were soaking wet. It was about 50 degrees outside. I panicked and began digging out other clothes I could wear but then decided that, by the time I got there, my stuff would be dry. So I rushed out of the house without putting Vaseline in my armpits. I would not discover the penalty of my mistake until my after-race shower. There I was on 95 South blasting my heat and opening the windows every 15 minutes to let the humidity out so my clothes would dry. Occasionally, I would grab the clothes and hold them outside of the window with one hand. The people driving by thought I was insane. By the last rest stop, my clothes had dried so I stopped, changed, and sprinted out of the rest area in marathon clothes, wearing my marathon number on my chest. More people thought I was insane. I finally arrived in Baltimore and my eyes beheld Ravens Stadium, the starting point. After I found parking, I realized that I should use the bathroom. To my dismay, 300 other people had realized the same thing. As soon as I stepped out, I heard an announcement over the PA system that all runners should report to the starting line. Well, I checked my bag and began lightly jogging to the start line about a quarter-mile away. You know what phrase came to mind: "I'm dead." I didn't stretch. I didn't warm up. Log-rolling isn't so bad after all, is it? I approached a swarming mass of runners comprised of all ages and walks of life. I saw senior citizens, I saw people from every ethnicity, I saw people in wheelchairs, men and women of all shapes and colors. And there I was reminded of Hebrews 12. "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us." I said to myself, "Quit crying. It's time to run, boy. That's what you've trained for, that's what you've come for. Run." And with that, the speaker blared, "3…2…1…Go runners."

Well, Miles 1-17 went by relatively smoothly. In fact, I was ahead of time. I had partnered myself with a pace group of about 10 people who were all aiming for a similar time. Throughout the race, we encouraged each other and reminded each other of the pace we had to keep. The spiritual analogy is so clear, I'll save you the time. By Mile 20, the infamous "Wall," I was feeling like a champ. I was on a 3:30 pace. Determination. Check. Feeling strong as Balboa. Energy. Check. Used all the advice from Coaches Ro and Yang. Skill. Check.

Then came Mile 22 and it happened. My body bailed out on me and my mind asked, "Where are you goin'?" There were about eight hills toward the end of the race that I was not prepared for. I also underestimated my need for carbo gel packs. So, my legs literally locked. My elbows started to lock. When the crowd yelled, "You're almost there, it's not that bad," I grew bitter and thought, "Easy for you to say, eatin' donuts on the side." Determination. Gone. Energy. Gone. Skill...log roll. I looked like I was imitating a bad '80s robot dance trying to run with all of my joints locked. Then came the pain. It was so bad I couldn't do anything but clench my jaw. I guess my tongue had had enough too, so it cramped up on me. I literally couldn't talk. It was then I began to pray. "Lord, I'd rather not die in Baltimore in a robot position, so…a little help please." Just when everything began to turn yellow, I came to a Gatorade station and attacked the volunteers as if I'd been lost at sea for six months. After my tongue loosened up, I said, "Thank you, bless your soul." It was just then I thought to myself. Determination. Energy. Skill. Yeah, they go so far. But, Lord it's Your GRACE that sustains me. I prayed, "Help me finish this race for Your glory." Without any exaggeration, unlike the rest of this article, all of my energy returned within a minute and I finished as strong as I had started. I crossed the finish line at four hours, 10 minutes, beating Puff Daddy (or P. Diddy).

For those of us in this church who, like me, often pride ourselves in determination, energy, and perhaps even skill: All of these are still just human faculties. They can only get us so far. In the end, it's the GRACE of God that carries us home. It's by the grace of God that we will finish this race. Don't get me wrong, Paul calls us to run in such a way as to get the prize in 1 Corinthians 9:24. I believe that includes determination, energy and skill. We must give 100 percent of ourselves to the work of the Lord but we must also recognize that it is 100 percent…a work of the Lord.

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." Hebrews 12:2-3 .