Lion or gazelle, let’s run together

“Every morning in Africa, a gazelle wakes up. It knows it must outrun the fastest lion, or it will be killed. Every morning in Africa, a lion wakes up. It knows it must run faster than the slowest gazelle, or it will starve. It doesn’t matter whether you’re the lion or a gazelle—when the sun comes up, you’d better be running.” – Christopher McDougall, Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen

Years ago, we attended a cherished event at the elementary school. The annual book fair had arrived, and a blue-eyed boy was vibrating with excitement. For weeks, he’d been waiting. Now, on a school night, we followed his back pockets through crowded hallways, his classroom, and the packed library where the books were being sold.

Happy at last, he clutched his sack of books. All at once, horror swept over his face. Pointing a finger, he said, “That girl. She chases me!” I followed the end of his pointing digit. There she stood, The Chaser and her own mama who, I noted, were sporting grins that stretched like melon slices over cheeks.

He said it again, equal parts horror and disdain coloring his voice. “She chases me. The madder I get, the faster I run, and then she gives up.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud. Oh, the perils of being seven and cute. In his little first-grade world, my small son was feeling like the gazelle, and he didn’t like it. So, using his tiny sneakers, he ran harder.

All week long, I’ve been thinking about the sport of running and how it mirrors life. Three of our sons ran in high school. It was the oldest one who kicked it off. In the summer and fall, he ran cross-country, strong, muscular legs devouring the miles as we cheered from the wooded sidelines.

In the spring, he took up track and field to keep himself in shape. From the chilly stands, we watched an entirely different kind of running. No slow, loping pace; just fast and furious racing with the pounding of approaching feet in one’s ears. Lions and gazelles in cleats, running to win.

As in track, there are seasons in life (raise your hoof if you feel this) that seem like an all-out sprint. In the thick of raising families, building careers, and keeping a hundred plates spinning, we scarcely have time to catch our breath. We fall into bed at night, exhausted. We rise again, lace ‘em up, and hit the ground running at the starter’s gun. It’s simply the chapter we’re in.

Other seasons feel like two Boston marathons back-to-back with a pipe bomb thrown in from the side. These are the hard times that come, situations that refuse to resolve quickly or easily. It may be a debilitating illness or a financial catastrophe. Perhaps it’s a job loss, a divorce, or a prodigal child. The skies overhead are gunmetal gray and solid lead, for all the good your prayers seem to do. And the sun? You haven’t seen it in months, even years.

How can we navigate the race of life? Whether it’s a blistering pace that’s over in a flash or a long, wooded course in the heat, we need help.

“The reason we race isn’t so much to beat each other, but to be with each other.” Mr. McDougall, the author quoted above, offers this wisdom. It is true. The people that we’re running with are critical to our success.

For our running sons, it was the encouragement from their teammates and their coaches that kept them going. They ran, not for themselves only, but for the team, and team is a powerful motivator. Running alone on country roads can be hard. Run with some of your buddies, though, and you’ll find fresh energy and strength to keep going.

In my own marathon seasons of life, I’ve received much strength from my friends. Because they are people of character and wisdom, insight and love, I was able to keep running when otherwise my legs would have failed. They are positive, encouraging, and willing to tell me the truth. When I was low on courage, they lent me theirs, and I loaned mine when theirs was running low. They wept with me and rejoiced with me, and when the marathon was finally over, they were there at the finish line to celebrate.

Yes, genuinely good friends are so important. Run with bad ones, i.e., negative, angry, critical folks, and it will affect your race. Such attitudes are contagious and, over time, will cause your tank of hope and good cheer to spring a leak. You’ll find yourself flagging along the route, and it didn’t need to happen. If this is you, it’s time to find new friends.

It’s a gift to have good friends. It’s an even greater gift to be one. When we run, not to compete, “but to be with each other,” life is full of meaning and joy. We will find that we can run farther than we ever thought we could run with greater peace than we dreamt we could have. Together, we can run long, strong, and well.