Sunday, December 30, 2012

Running the race

It all started back in high school. I had never been much of a runner until my sophomore year when I joined track and feild. To be honest, it was a sport I joined simply because my friends wanted to do it and encouraged me to come along. Positive peer pressure I suppose...But, I grew to love running....getting out, finding some release after a stressful day, enjoying the wind on my face and just feeling free.

I often enjoyed a good run from time to time in Africa. A little over a month ago, I decided to start training for a half-marathon that I wanted to run in Arizona after I got home. Akbar, another crewmember who is also a distance runner decided to start coming along with me. I thought it would be good to run some longer distances while I was still in Guinea, so we started running 10K's every week and a few shorter runs in-between.

Running in Africa has proven to be quite a different from home. The air is not always so clean and fresh, but it is always guaranteed to be an interesting and often entertaining experience. You never really know what you're going to see, but there's always a wide variety of sights along the way...all you have to do is keep your eyes open and take it in. Along the road, I pass by a little girl of no more than seven years old bathing her baby brother in a bucket. His little black body is covered in soap suds as she scrubs away the dust of the day. The baby sits in the bucket unwillingly and cries, as she tries to calm him and finish his bath. After that, I see a group of boys playing soccer in the street, a very common sight in the evenings. Occasionally the boys kick the ball to me and I join their game for a few minutes before continuing along on my run. A little further down, a woman is selling fruit on the side of the road. "Di courage," (Have courage) the woman cheers as I pass by. I may not have music with me (We've been discouraged from running with Ipods because of the risk of theft), but I enjoy the sound of a man playing a drum as I run by. We turn the corner and a group of little children are excitedly chanting "Fote, fote, fote" (white person) as they wave their little hands frantically to catch my eye. I wave back and call out "Sava" (How are you). They giggle excitedly that the white girl has greeted them and their little faces light up with pearly white smiles against their ebony skin. With all of the people cheering us on along the way, it sort of does feel like we're running a race.

As we run along the path, we often have to dodge goats, chickens, or an occasional hole in the sidewalk. Along our normal route is a funeral home, so we occasionally see a ceremony taking place. A little farther down the road, we pass by the cemetary. It is always good to be reminded of the brevity of life. We turn the corner and pass by the slums near the sea and I am struck once again by the trash, the filth, and the utter poverty. I am reminded of how incredibly blessed I am and send up a prayer for those who are not as fortunate as myself. The next stretch is marked by the fishing boats and the little shops that surround the port. Occasionally, we pass by the boats at just the right time to watch the sun setting over the water.

The last week before I left Guinea, Akbar and I headed out for our last 10K. I was feeling extra excited and energetic that day and decided we should run a bit farther than normal...it was probably only one kilometer more than usual, but I wanted to go all out. As we finished the last stretch before the port, I began to sprint. "Well done Becca," Akbar remarked as we finished and headed back to the ship.

I am home now and things are a little bit different. I still go running several times a week, but there are no goats, no flying soccer balls, and no small African children waving to me as I pass by. I can wear my Ipod and play my music now, which I enjoy, but I still miss the sound of the beating drums when I come around the corner. I decided to a run a different half-marathon than I originally planned so that I can run with a friend, so now my race is not until March. Knowing that brings a sigh of relief because now I have plenty of time to train!

While I enjoy running, I have no expectation of getting any sort of recognition or prize in the Phoenix Half-Marathon. But, while I still want to train and prepare for my half-marathon, I am reminded of a greater race that I am already running and will continue to run until the day I die. And as I press on, I think I can hear the saints up in heaven cheering me on...

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us RUN with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God." ~Hebrews 12:1-2

God has me running this race called the Christian walk. Some days are harder than others. There are times when I am injured and I want to give up. There are times when my "muscles" are sore and I feel weary and tired, unable to go another step. But, through it all, I see Jesus, my Saviour, cheering me on at the finish line...and I pray that when I cross it, I will be sprinting toward Him! I long to hear Him speak those precious words "Well done" when it's all finished!
 
"Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it." ~1 Corinthians 9:24

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