1500m of Faith on Cracked Ribs

It's been nearly five years since I last raced a 1500m race.  Even more surprising might be that one of my greatest days was that day.  It was a perfect day on my home track at the conference meet.  Bringing home the conference title and going out on top seemed like the perfect way to cap my collegiate running career.  Since that day, I have raced countless races from a 3K to a marathon, but I have not touched the 1500m.  Why would I?  I had a perfect race and have a perfect memory that would be very hard to beat; however, I recently decided it was time to take the 1500m out of the closet and play with it again.   

Nearly two months ago, one of my athletes suggested running a fast 1500m at TCU as it is an early outdoor meet, and there would be great competition.  At first, I said I would run the 3K if I raced anything, but he convinced me that it would be fun to go fast again.  With that in mind, I went for it and called up the TCU coach two weeks ago.  I asked if I could race unattached this coming Friday in the 1500m and perhaps in the 3K later on in the meet.  After I was granted permission to toe the line with a bunch of college students still in their prime, I was filled with excitement.  What kind of shape am I in, how fast will they go out, and am I too old to run with these guys?  I have always loved the quote that nothing great was ever achieved without excitement, so here I am, excited and ready to see what I can do. 

The day after my phone call to TCU, I had a run in with bad luck and ended up going down in a parking lot cracking three ribs.  Was this a sign that I shouldn't be racing?  Perhaps, but I am too stubborn to call the TCU coach and tell him I need to drop out.  So, with less than two weeks until the race, I decided to ignore the doctor's orders and continued training and pushed through the pain.  It has not been easy as each step jars the ribs with a painful shock.  Lifting is out of the question, and I can't even sleep normal as I am stuck sleeping in a recliner. 

Just to make sure this coming race is even more interesting, I have been seeded with the #1 time.  So, with race day approaching, I am filled with excitement and perhaps fear.  What happens if the pain is too much to handle with the ribs, or what if two weeks of sub par training will leave me bringing up the rear?  These thoughts could keep me awake and stressing every second from now until race time, but that will do me no good.  I must have faith.

My faith is what gets me through.  My finish time is irrelevant to me.  What matters is my effort and the way in which I race.  God has given me the ability to run and run well.  It wouldn't matter what the trial is that lies ahead.  My life is filled with hurdles that must be overcome, but I do not worry because I have my faith.  Worrying is like a rocking chair, it will pass the time, but it won't get you anywhere.  One must fill themselves with faith, faith that God has a plan and that He will not lead you where you are not supposed to be.  I cannot imagine even getting out of bed without faith.  How can someone live without faith?  What is the point of even putting on your shoes?  Without faith you are alone; even surrounded by people you are alone because it is only faith that will lead past this life into something greater.  Friday afternoon when I step to the line, my mind will be filled with faith, faith that God will be with me every stride, and that with all my effort I will run the race he has put in front of me.