I mean scream.
Like what the heck is that noise, scream.
I've only done so twice, the first during one of my high school track meets. I'll tell you about the second, in an other long winded post. For now, lets focus on this one with all of it's run on sentences. If we lived in a perfect world, the outcome of the meet would have been far different from reality. If you have ever been to a meet, the last event is the 4X400 relay. One of the athletes backed out, and I was put in as a sub. In a word, ohmylordpleasehelpme flashed across my eyes in large red letters. It wasn't my first time running the event, but my first as the anchor.(The last and most crucial runner; if they run fast enough they can pull the team up to a better spot)
Allow me or unpack that a little.
I joined track because I'd never been in a sport besides peewee soccer, and it was my last chance to try something new, since I was a senior. To put it plainly; I am not very athletic. I have the build and stature of a runner, but I am not very skilled at it. Usually my nerves and self consciousness got in the way of giving my all and throwing myself into the sport completely.
I got my feeling of being a champion by encouraging my friends and team mates across the finish line. I loved cheering on my friends, but as I myself got into the blocks or walked out onto the track, nerves mounted and I found myself complaining that I wasn't enough, even though I had plenty of people encouraging me constantly. I battled with this feeling constantly, and I still do. I can remember sitting at my coaches desk and hearing "You can't let other people determine what you think of yourself. You have to prove yourself to yourself." And an other coach who told me "You can't be afraid of getting out there and failing. Failures mean you learn. Get out there and try."
Super deep and emotional things I will carry with me the rest of my life.
Anywho--there we were, the very last event of the year, for those of us who didn't make CIF.
And I was the ANCHOR.
{Kinda sounds like one of those cheesy Disney movies right?}
I found myself asking if they had a fever.
There were only three schools in the event, so if the worst happened, we had third place. Before the event, the four of us prayed together for God to aid us in running to the best of our abilities, and to give him the glory no matter the outcome. We prayed for safety and sportsmanship. We prayed for nerves to subside. We did this before every event we were in. My loving boyfriend gave my pointers of how to run the lap and calmed my nerves. As the race began and progressed, we fell to third place, and were slowly slipping behind. As my friend came in with the baton, I grabbed the sick and ran. It's kind of an indescribable feeling, running a four hundred; you can't run too fast at first, you have to conserve your energy. As I ran, I began to catch up with the other runner, in second place.
Let me flash back a little. About two weeks previous, I faced the same girl, and I didn't pass her when I could have, because I wasn't confident I could have. This cost us precious time and second place.
Let's just say I was determined that I would pass her.
When I finally got to her heels, I began to run next to her. When I would run faster to pass, so would she.
It was an awkward heavy-breathing-wind-in-your-ears-sorta-silence. By this time, we were rounding the third turn and making our way toward the finish line.
I pushed as hard as I possibly could to get there. My feet and legs turned to concrete and everything seemed like it was in slow motion. I gave everything I had, and I knew she did too. I silently prayed (begged) Jesus would strengthen me the last few feet.
Then I heard this strange grunting scream noise...I barely had time to wonder what it could be, when I realized it was my throat. I was screaming, as well as you could while in a dead sprint, I guess. I prayed the young lady next to me didn't think I was a lunatic...which I guess could have helped my situation if she had;)
Still running side by side, we approached the finish and threw ourselves at the line.
The second place "victory" was too close to call.
As I wobbly-run-walked the few feet after, I dropped the baton and slowly descended to the floor...ahh the floor.
My thoughts were as follows:
Done...finally done. OHMYGOODNESS I DROPPED THE BATON.
See, when you get done running like that in 90 degree weather, you're not thinking very clearly. And you think dropping the baton after the finish line is a bad thing.
My loving boyfriend and kind-hearted coach came to my aid, and grabbed me off the ground to prevent me from becoming a writhing ball of muscles. A short while later, the other athlete was seated next to me.
She was one of the sweetest and most gracious ladies I have ever met. We congratulated one an other and secretly prayed for our team's victory.
My team mates and coaches came and hugged me, and waited in agony those few moments before the word--who placed in second?
It seemed the entire stadium took a collective breath in those seconds.
I was one of the happiest people in the world. I gave up the voice in my head saying I wasn't enough as I ran. I didn't care of what everyone else thought of me. I wanted to compete not only for my team, but my own determination to conquer that annoying voice in my head. I wanted to give my all for my friends, and there is no doubt in my mind that is exactly what I did, because The Lord answered my prayer for strength.
I felt like a champion, and I didn't care what the actual results were.
My coach came back with the word; the young lady to my left took second.
A second passed for the statement to sink in. Then my team mates congratulated me like I won the race, even though we came in last.
This is one of my most cherished memories of high school. God answered all of our prayers, and blessed me with such loving people.
In the moments that you let go of everything and run toward Him without anything holding you back, He makes you fly. When you run toward Him, the perfecter of our faith, you don't worry about dignity or looking like a lunatic scream-running.
It doesn't mean you win.
You just run.
Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on to toward the goal to
to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:13&14
But for those who hope in The Lord,
He will renew their strength.
They will soar with wings like eagles,
they will run and not be weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31
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