A Time to Run, But Not Always to Race

Last Sunday, not long after slipping into a pew in Peterborough, I watched my husband prepare communion – as I have on many previous Sundays.  This time, however, my ears pricked up as he said, hands held high with host, a Bible verse that I don’t think I’d ever heard during this part of the service:  “…let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. “  (Hebrews 12:1-2)

This got my attention for a few reasons.  First, it seemed an odd time to be talking about running when we were all – except for maybe the kids in the back row — standing perfectly still, as people do (or try to do) in church, for goodness sake. Second, just a couple of days before Mayor Bloomberg had cancelled the New York City Marathon – pretty clearly the right decision amid the devastation from Sandy, even though all the runners who flew in from other continents probably would have really appreciated a little more advance notice.  It was wonderful how many of them switched gears to go and volunteer around the city, thus giving due respect to the “endurance” part of life even over the “race” part.  Third, last Sunday the two presidential candidates were flying all over the place as the end of that particular race drew near.  In fact, Obama was actually speaking a few blocks away from my husband’s office that very morning.  (You know that old saying about the postal service?  Nothing could have kept the bishop from carrying out the many baptisms and confirmations that occurred in a town to the south; it was with great joy that he did so.)

Later on, of course, I realized that it shouldn’t have been at all surprising to hear the scriptural reference to running.  After all, a couple of years ago, when I wrote a column for the newspaper about our son the boxer, my husband pointed me to Paul’s famous statement:  “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Timothy 4:7)  Now here’s a line that can provide courage and stamina in lots of circumstances.  It also brings to mind that wonderful movie based on true history, Chariots of Fire, which is about being faithful to both your religion and your athletic ability.  Indeed, the Scotsman, Eric Liddell, believed that he ran for the glory of God.

The truth is, running has been on my mind mostly because our younger son’s recent success on his cross-country team has highlighted the fact that, going back some time now, every member of our family has been a regular runner. That would make five of us, six if we include – and why wouldn’t we? — our big dog Rocky.  So far anyway, we have all benefited from the activity, and a few of us have really been shaving down our times.  Still, what happened with the NYC Marathon actually “jogged” my mind back to what I had already been trying to figure out:  how you can tell whether running (or maybe even something like it) is indeed always good running or whether sometimes even this wholesome activity can – for different reasons —  veer into inappropriate or even treacherous territory.

You may have heard of the ultra-marathon runner they called “Caballo Blanco” (Micah True was his real name) whose body was discovered last spring out in a remote part of southern New Mexico.  The New York Times did a fascinating, very long story about him and his close relationship with the Tarahumara Indians there.

Recently, trying to clarify my own stance on a good thing sometimes becoming too much of a good thing, I’ve been reading the best-selling book by Chris McDougall about the mysterious (some might say downright weird) Caballo Blanco and other “ultra-runners.”  It’s called Born to Run: A Hidden Tribe, Superathletes, and the Greatest Race the World Has Never Seen.

These Indians can apparently run staggering distances – try 436 miles over two days, for instance—and they do it barefoot or with sandals.  It’s the kind of feat (pardon me) that, in our imaginations at least, brings us back hundreds of years ago to a time when people had to be constantly on the chase for food; there was no ambling over to the refrigerator or sitting around with the remote.  What members of this particular tribe have done for generations, covering miles and miles, is called “persistence hunting” – bringing prey down mostly by out-lasting them. Some scientists now are discovering that this ancient kind of natural running, toes down first, is actually better for the body than the over-cushioned Nike method most of us have bought into, as we worship at the church of “Have to have the latest best thing.” Go figure.

But running for hours and hours, without having to chase down a deer; what about that?  With all due respect, some of us might prefer to listen to Springsteen sing the song – he had the title first, after all – about the feeling of youthful abandon in cars. You can even have it right here, right now, on UTube

This weekend, some of my women friends will be doing a half-marathon together, in New Hampshire even.  Part of me would like to be there with them, for the comraderie more than anything else.  But running on trails with Rocky, for modest distances, suits me fine too.  There’s something about seeing a dog released from a leash and taking off with gusto — and being able to follow him –that says, unmistakably, “This is really living.”