THE IMPERISHABLE CROWN

As the race director yelled, “one hour till start time” I nervously yet eagerly pulled myself from the sleeping bag and began to carefully dawn my pre-selected race attire.  While doing so, I admit there were some anxieties.  However, who wouldn’t experience a little apprehension when contemplating a 50-kilometer run over grass, roots and the unknown.  Therefore, I took a small walk up the narrow, windy road to seek some reprieve from what lay ahead. 

            The stars could not have been more visible at 4:00 a.m. and the brightness thereof like I had rarely seen.  As I began my walk to where the trail would begin our real journey, I reflected back on the previous months training and a book of sport quotes given to me by my boss.  In the opening pages it read something like this,  “Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize?  Run in such a way that you may obtain it.    And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things.  Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown.  (imperishable crown being Eternal Life in Christ)

            Well, the day’s race is over now, and while I really admire those that excelled and lead the way during those 50 rigorous kilometers, I can’t help but reflect on what I learned that weekend about the imperishable crown.  My heart goes out to my fellow competitors, race organizers and especially, the small communities of Bedford and Lynchburg VA.     

All seemed fine as I reached the aid station at the half waypoint.  I took in plenty of fluids and feasted on everything from potato wedges with salt to melted M&Ms and pretzel sticks.  Encouragement was also of no short supply and after receiving my fill of each; I proceeded along the trail to join a group of runners.  Do you realize how many friends you can make over a 50k course?

            By mile 22, however, my body seemed to reject what I had ingested and I quickly reached a point of exhaustion.  A runner, who was traveling at no slow pace, noticed my weakened state on the trail.  She asked me a few questions, to which I am not sure if there was a reply, and immediately sought to my well being.  After helping me into a small creek and giving me drinking water, I felt somewhat cooler but remained quite ill.  Another 10 miles was out of the question.

            Unexpectedly, the charity and concern for # 45 seemed to come from all aspects of the race.   Three other runners came buy and gave me enough water to get back on my feet while the first sped up the trail to relay word of my current condition. 

            Nearby, there was a family enjoying their Saturday afternoon by taking a walk near the waterfalls.  The sincerity of their concern was genuine as they offered what fluids they had on hand and rewarded me with some encouragement.  There was also young Matthew, who was working at the second to the last aid station.  I will never forget his determination and sense of accomplishment as he recognized my bib number and said, “hey, you are number 45.”  The water seemed cool and could not have come at a more opportune time.

            The remaining eight miles were equally demanding, yet with each turn in the trail, I found more support and encouragement.  I had two more miles to go when I met up with one final runner.  We talked, and as we did so, he kept a pace that was reasonable and offered to walk when I could run no longer.  Even as we reached the finish line, he said, “no, you cross before me” and we did so in that order. 

            The generosity and support did not stop at the finish line but continued throughout the long night in Lynchburg.  I was unable to make the six-hour drive back home to be with my wife and two children so I found the closest hotel.  My appreciation goes out to the hotel manager who came by my room not once but twice during the evening to check on me and offer some assistance.  Again, the manner of his concern was that of a friend—but one who you had known for years. 

            Later that same evening, while purchasing some food, I was offered four slices of pizza for the price of one.  And, although I was unable to eat any of it, I appreciate the gesture alone and take it as a symbol of what seems to be so plentiful in Lynchburg. 

Charity—which is the pure love of Christ. 

             24 hours later, as I laid in the emergency room, I was asked how I ever made the trip home without loosing consciousness?  My wife and I knew and the Dr confirmed the answer.  “Someone was watching over you,” she said.

            My heart goes out to the communities of Bedford and Lynchburg for their one of a kind generosity and re-enforcing my understanding of the imperishable crown.  It is to them  that I will forever be indebted for ensuring my safe return to my wife and two children.

#45

May 7, 2001