Running with the wrong crowd ...

?Even in the midst of the pandemic, I’m proud to say I’ve continued my running regimen. Four or five times a week – sometimes more, I hit the road, training for who knows what race scheduled for who knows when as a result of this new normal we find ourselves living in. With no races in sight I find myself drifting back, basking in the distant glory of those already run.

There’s the marathon from 2017. While I’m proud of that one there are some mornings I feel as though my feet are still not speaking to me because of the hell I put them through during that race. The marathon relays I’ve run allowed me to meet some great people and I look forward to resuming those relationships one day soon. I ran several races in 2016 and the one that sticks out the most is the half marathon … and it has nothing to do with the 13.1 miles covered. No, that one sticks out because of the friend who met me at the finish line with a banana and bottle of water and said, “now tell me what the hell you were thinking?” Friends … I tell you …

As I cycle through my catalog of races, no race has taught me more, no race has meant more than the 2013 Turkey Trot. This event offered a different kind of distance and that, coupled with the fact that it would ease my conscience before eating a huge meal later that day, was especially appealing to me. Whereas most races range from 3K to a full marathon, this race was an 8-miler; unique in running circles. 

The race began and I was cruising along at a pace that would allow me to finish at just under an hour and 20 minutes. With each step my mind became more and more at peace at the thought of devouring a huge Thanksgiving meal later on that day. I kept going, feeling strong, the way you pray you feel on the morning of a race. I passed mile marker 5 and I glanced over to the other side and saw mile marker 6. This meant that at some point soon, there would be a turn leading the runners back in the direction we had originally started from.

So, I kept running and running…and running…

After about 30 minutes it became apparent that somehow, some kind of way me and the cluster of runners I was with had gotten way off course. I just assumed they knew the way, but it became painfully obvious that they didn’t.  When I finally crossed the finish line (one of the last to do so) and got my medal, I hopped in my car to drive the course I had taken to see how far I had actually run. To my surprise what should have been an 8-mile run, ended up being a little over 11…

I was ready to file a complaint against the race organizers but as I rode back through the course, I came to a light in the 5 and 6-mile marker range. Just off to the right I saw two signs that said, “Turkey Trotters turn here…” I chuckled and let out a big “WOW” as I realized that my race, my journey that day would have been so much easier…if I had paid attention to the signs…instead of following the crowd.

***

Throughout this life there are signs that are intentionally put in place to help us find our way, to help keep us moving in the right direction. But we’re so busy following the crowd that we can’t see them.

We follow the crowd, assuming that the crowd knows the right way only to come to the painful reality that what might be right for the crowd…was wrong for us…Let the crowd do the crowd but my prayer for you is that from this day forward you pay attention to the signs; the signs that have been divinely put in place for your eyes only.

Because when you do, your race, your journey, your life…becomes so much easier…