TIM E HOLDER

I know it will be hard to believe, but when I was in the 5th grade, I was the skinniest kid at Shady Oaks Elementary School in Hurst, Texas. And possibly the least athletic kid in the universe, in the history of mankind. I never understood how I could be outside all the time, running and playing hide and seek, Red Rover, dodge ball with neighborhood kids and excel at those. But, put me in any organized athletic endeavor and I became a beached jellyfish. I always dreaded when PE tests happened the spring of every school year and we were forced to do a specific number of sit ups, jumping jacks, deep knee squats or run more than 10 feet. I would panic, shiver like a horse shedding flies and literally break out into flop sweats. It was the most miserably heartbreaking time of my life. Until…5th grade…1965.

Patty Duke starred in a movie called, “Billie.” It’s the story of a tomboy who loves sports. When the high school track coach sees her run, he asks her to join the school team. Her inclusion in the formerly all-male team causes a stir, especially with her father. He is typically supportive of Billie, but now he worries that her shocking behavior will cost him his bid for mayor. Nervously, he starts setting Billie up with dates, unaware that she has a crush on her classmate, Mike. The reason Billie is so incredibly good at running is because she hears “the beat.” Patty Duke would nod her head to the beat of the song she’s hearing in her mind and when the race starts, she ran to the beat of the song. And as the race progressed, she would mentally speed the beat of the song up and therefore, run faster. And win every single race, becoming the sweetheart hero of her school.

Well, I just thought this was the best idea EVER!!! I couldn’t wait for the running of the 5th grade a few days later. I was going to conquer this race with sheer dogged determination. I very specifically and deliberately chose Eve Of Destruction by Barry McGuire as my “beat.” I practiced for days. When the event day finally arrived, I remember the confidence and dedicated focus as every male in the 5th grade lined up on the touchdown line at the end zone of our elementary football field. I was channeling “the beat.” I was never more prepared for anything in my life. The whistle blew and I was sure turbo-thruster fire was shooting out the bottoms of my dress shoes as I launched out of the starting line. I was running like the wind as I heard “the beat” pounding in my head. And at just the right moment, I jerked that needle from 33 1/3 to 78. I completely skipped 45 as I forced my skinny legs to move beyond what I thought was possible for me. The chilly spring wind whipping past my face, I knew that if I was wearing a nun’s hat, I would have taken off like Sally Field. The end zone was in sight and I revved up “the beat” just a bit more to make the percussive explosion of speed as impressive as I possibly could. And then it was over. And I finished that race half of the entire football field behind everyone else. Truth be told, it was at this point that I began to wonder why this “beat” thing wasn’t working…AT ALL!!! Somehow, no matter how hard I tried, I could not get my legs to speed up as fast as Eve Of Destruction was playing in my head. I remember every other kid waiting by Mrs. Smith, my teacher, who was obviously, even though I didn’t want to believe it, doing her best to not laugh outright as I caught up to the rest of the class, already walking in the doors, back to class. I never wanted to step foot on that field ever again. Ironically, I passed through that accursed field every day as the backyard of our property butted up against the school playground. For the rest of my life, I have resented Patty Duke. If I possessed a clearer understanding of law at the time, I might have tried to sue her for intentional infliction of emotional distress.

It wasn’t until I was in my 20’s that I began to understand the mystery of running the race. I began to want to be in better shape. I joined the “Y” and got a trainer. I chose to not use my car so much and I rode my bicycle to wait tables and I began teaching aerobics at the most exclusive studio in Nashville. I ran 5 miles, 6 days a week. I was at 3% body fat. Girls would drive by while I was running with their windows rolled down and whistle. It was awesome. At the time, there weren’t a lot of competitive outlets for athletic endeavors, other than the occasional 5 or 10K’s for charity. So, I calibrated my mind so I was exercising for the benefits of building strength and energy and having something in my life that was a discipline, because I realized that mastering one discipline bleeds into every other area of my life.

Last week we heard Connelly talking about what it takes for him to practice for the track events he runs in. I watch every single clip his mom, Julie, posts on FB and I actually catch myself sitting up on the edge of the couch saying, “Come on Connelly, come on Connelly.” And as impressive as the races are, and as great as it feels when I watch him win, the most extraordinary, absorbing aspect of the process is his dedication to exercising the discipline it takes to achieve the success he desires.

There are so many verses that talk about running the race. I love Hebrews 12:1. “Throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.” In other words, “You’re running a race that has been specifically designed for you. There is a prize for you at the end of this race. Even though you run your race with purpose and dedication, remember that you have a responsibility to stand as part of a great cloud of witnesses. Be conscious of the ones running the course with you. And when you sense they are strengthening their stride, let them hear your applause. If you have extra baggage that slows you down, be careful that you don’t trip over it. Be vigilant and watch that it doesn’t impede your rhythm. Even if it’s equipment you think you need, give it close inspection. More than likely, you’ll find you can dump it if it causes you to lose focus on the goal. Don’t worry so much about the prize. That’s already yours. But, focus on it. Keep it in sight. Keep Him in sight. Be brave and keep running. Endure through the sizzling heat of an asphalt life. Keep running when every step seems to climb a bit steeper than the last. Go for broke when the path is straight and flat. Although I can personally assure you that I will more than likely never take an ice bath, I will make time from running to stroll in the cool evening breezes and listen for the sounds of the Lord walking in the garden. And I won’t have to hide from Him. Psalm 119:32 says, “I shall run the way of your commandments, for you will enlarge my heart.” As we run the race, out of obedience, the Lord will expand our compassion. He will make room in our hearts for the wounded, bruised and lonely outcasts who have forgotten and lost their direction. Keep training. Read the playbook. Even in the middle of the race, we are still training.

We love to watch sporting events, hoping that we will see records broken that edge against the limit of human potential. One of my favorites is the record broken by Mike Powell. He holds the world record in the long jump. At the Olympics, the long jump was once a marquee event. But, not any longer. In the last summer Olympics, NBC barely paid attention to the event, airing only a handful of jumps on television. So what happened? Mike Powell’s record is so incredible, that fewer athletes take interest in ever challenging it. Mike Powell’s world record has lasted 26 years and nobody is jumping close to it. At the 1991 World Championships in Tokyo, Powell was ready to show the previous world champion, Bob Beamon, how to jump. However, Powell was such a “no name” at the time, when he got up to jump, he looked up and saw Beamon leaving. Powell took it as a slap in the face and said that even today his “whole life story is being the underdog.” Even now, after seeing the video hundreds of times, he says, “every single time I see it, I go right back to the moment. I smell the air in the stadium.”

His biggest competitor during the event was Carl Lewis who held the Olympic record. In long jump qualifying, Lewis leaped more than a foot farther than anybody else. Powell jumped before Lewis in the 13-man order. His first jump out of six was horrible. Just 26 feet. He was so amped up he was hyperventilating. Lewis went 4 jumps later. And jumped farther than Powell’s personal best. Powell moved into 2nd place on his second jump, but Lewis responded with the longest jump of his career on his third. Powell, so error-prone he used to be called “Mike Foul” by his coach, was over the board on his fourth. Lewis watched from behind. Lewis next 2 jumps posted the greatest back-to-back long jumps in history. He sat on the grass to watch Powell’s 5th jump. Powell puffed his cheeks, waved his arms like a pro wrestler on a ring walk, attacked the runway and propelled off the board with room to spare. He panted as his body arched back in the air. He gave in to gravity and dug into the dirt with a thud that caused screams from a crowd of some 60.000. Powell immediately rose from the pit, raising his arms, pointing his fingers and roaring with focused intensity. Powell clapped as he awaited the distance reading. Lewis, in the same sitting position as when Powell embarked on the runway not 30 seconds earlier, stood up. Then Powell saw it. 8.95 – a new world record.

“Everything I did during my whole life until that point was encapsulated in that jump. Everything in my life that I had not achieved. Every girl that turned me down for a date. Every time I didn’t learn something. That was my moment to show the world. You’re going to need a crowbar to get this smile off my face.” Mike Powell jumped 29 feet, 4 1/4 inches. That’s almost three stories, people. He has held the world record for 26 years. And it’s almost universally accepted that this record will never be broken.

Run the race. Focus on the process. Be deliberate and scheduled with training. Don’t give up. Focus on the goal. Don’t worry about the prize. It’s already yours.