the race: part one (12.17 pm)

this summer,  the olympics lived inside our borrowed television for fifteen days.  athletes offering demonstrations of strength and skill. persistent announcers chasing after them with words…it became the background noise of our home.

mostly glances in passing, there was one event that stopped me in my on-the-way-to-do-something-else every time.

a race being run.

i would pause,  set down my to do…and enter in to watching.

at the always startling sound of the gun, my heart jumped and filled in the made-for-tv-movie slow motion…even the chariots of fire theme… i was completely caught up.

a sprint… i didn’t breathe at all. the burst of power and speed handing me marvel at what is accomplished with this limited edition wrapping we have…this body.

a marathon…tensed leaning forward, willing them to finish. i didn’t dare look away. the endurance and tenacity, again holding out marvel at what can be accomplished with this limited edition wrapping we have…this body.

and when it was over, i would pick up my to do, back to the foreground of my life.

but the race…i still held it in my mind that day. not the wins or losses

the background story.

the showing up.

the effort.

the one more step.

the overcoming.

the finishing.

…i carried it with me for my race.

someone is watching your race.someone is holding their breath as you sprint.someone is leaning forward, willing one foot in front of the other for your last mile.someone is marveling at what god can do with your limitations. keep running.

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