I had the opportunity the morning of Thanksgiving to watch several thousand people run. I was there to see my sister finish five miles, which she did readily. I participated in this particular running event for a few consecutive years, though it has been many years that I last participated. I realized in my observation of people running on this somewhat humid morning that I have skipped over what once was a very active, very predominant part of my life. 

When I quit something many years back to choose a greater love over it, I did not anticipate never coming back to that lesser love. Now, many years later, I am turning to an outward expression of my desire to be a runner again. Two friends of mine come to mind as runners who have professional lives very unrelated to running, yet they still run habitually. I admire that immensely, and I aim to achieve that myself. 

A recent motivating factor I should mention is that the morning of the Thanksgiving race, I saw my high school cross country coach (who I believe is now retired). I told him “Hello,” but I do not believe he remembered me other than as a generic old runner of his. He said that I looked good, which I thought was a strange thing to hear given that I have lived a very sedentary life over the past six years since I was on the team. This is because my body is a far cry from the finely-tuned runner’s body I had back then (I say this without resenting my current build).

To have such control over one’s body is not just a matter of physical well-being; it is something naturally compelling. It is well to clock miles on running shoes in the morning and in the evening. I truly do love running with a group, and I think that may be one thing keeping me from running in the out of doors. I won’t chalk it all up to that because I know that a majority of my extended sabbatical from running is in fact sloth.

In recent days, I have had the opportunity to be introspective with the help of others. It owes much to being interviewed, to being asked questions about oneself that just don’t occur naturally. Many of those stray thoughts can be distilled to one principle that a wise professor at DBU no doubt still tells inquiring minds: Focus on the smaller composite parts of things. Aim to do well and completely those small things–one at a time. 

I think that is a better picture than the business-like term “specialization.” I enjoy the idea of focus because it connotes the application of both time and effort. That’s where I come back to running. When running, you focus on one thing, which is to run. There are many factors that are tossed into the mix, but the basic foundation remains: focus on running. The mindset of a runner is very simple, and it remains the same at mile one or the final lap. The finish line is not even a ready picture until it is just in sight. 

And, there is nothing laborious about that idea. There is no use in resenting the way ahead of you, since it is a necessary and proper portion of the race you have set out to accomplish. I will focus on the loves of my life and on being someone proud of his work and labor. I will meditate on improvement because there is no promise in stagnation.

I look forward to contemplating this and more in the season of Advent. The Christ-child is born into this world, and that is both a fulfillment of a promise and promise in itself. That is a continuing truth that I hope continues to change me, to save me from my own forces of stagnation.