My 10-year-old son, Speedy, recently joined a youth track program.  Tall and lean, he is a fairly agile and athletic kid who has played just about every sport for one season.  Some ball games he enjoyed more than others, but what he always loved most was running fast.  

When we discovered a youth track program, we were thrilled.  Finally, an opportunity for this kid to RUN! 

What we discovered very quickly was our definition of “fast” and the youth track athlete’s version of “fast” was very different.  Speedy turned into a solid middle-of-the-packer at practice.  

What makes us so proud, though, is his determination and work ethic.  He may trail these younger, beautiful, gazelle-like runners, but he keeps trying his best with every speed drill.

About two weeks ago we waited the unavoidable three hours for him to line up to race the 400 meters, the distance of one loop around the track.  

He took off as fast as he could per the coach’s instruction.   He ran hard and landed in the middle of the group.  Halfway through the race, something happened.  He turned it ON!  

Athlete after athlete he passed, and came this close to passing the guy in the lead (who himself turned it on when he heard someone coming up behind him).   

Ready, set, go

I wish someone had been videoing not only him, but us as well.  We started the race sitting, then standing, then grabbing each others arm in excitement and moving our way down the bleachers.  

“Look!  He’s passing that guy!  And that one too! Look at the determination on his face! Oh my gosh he’s trying so hard and running so fast!”

Speedy finished the heat in 2nd place and earned a new personal record (PR).  

Did he win the heat?  No.  Did he even place in the top 6 of his age group?  Negative.  

I have no idea what the winning time was and quite frankly I don’t care.  He ran his hardest with focus, determination, and the sheer will to do his best.  I about burst with joy for his effort, and he felt pretty proud as well.

He ran his best race.  

We should, too.

What’s your race? Body image? Nutrition? Fitness?

We may not all be runners.  Some of us only run if chased by a wild animal, and even then it better be a large one with sharp teeth.  

But we all have our own health race.  It looks different – maybe you’re just starting out and taking wobbly baby steps as you get from one point to another.  

Perhaps you’ve been exercising for a while but need to add in the nutrition component (or vice versa).  

Or, maybe you do have a sport you love and compete in: CrossFit competitions, triathlons, grown-up swim meets, running, biking … the list goes on and on.

The race experience

I’ve done my fair share of races:  5K’s, triathlons, half marathons, and mud runs.  I love racing, and even more the energy it offers.  This post shared why I love them so much.

Suddenly I turn into the most appreciative person in the world.  Every volunteer, every police officer directing traffic, I thank.  I don’t know what comes over me; I just want everyone to know how grateful I am that they are helping to make this event happen. Honestly I’m probably obnoxious about it; I’m sure those around me for a few miles get tired of me hollering THANK YOU!! to every water station volunteer.

More importantly, I also get intimate moments with God, where He shows His beauty by the morning rays bursting through the trees, or seeing the sun rise over the water as the national anthem is sung.  

Often, I have this overwhelming moment of gratitude, of what my body can do and is doing.  It’s a natural, addictive, intense, beautiful high. 

My racing non-wins (hint: 100%)

Not once have I won a race.

Each day, in our health world, we have our own race.  Instead of counting miles or obstacles or timing our distance, we monitor our nutrition and fitness.  

• Do we exercise?  
• Do we eat plenty of vegetables?  
• How about keeping sugar in check?  
• 8 glasses of water?  

All of these are part of our daily nutritional race.

At the end of the day, when I’m bothered by my hips that are getting bigger, the belly pooch that won’t go away, or my knees that are starting to look like an elephant’s, I must ask if I raced my best.  

Did I honor the body God gave me by moving it and fueling it correctly?  Because if I did, then that’s all I can ask for. 

Stop the comparison to someone else’s race

I can’t look at someone else’s race and compare mine to hers.  

She may be thinner or fitter or more disciplined than I am nutritionally. Her clothes might fit better or darn it she can pull off a maxi-dress, when all that same dress does for me is make me look squatty and pregnant. But her race is not mine. 

My race means I must evaluate how I treated my body today.  Deep down, in a place that I sometimes fear going, I know how I’ve done.  With each extra bite of food that my body doesn’t need or popping a handful of chocolate chips in my mouth, I fall a little behind.  

However, with each nutritious decision, I pull further ahead.  I get stronger, physically and mentally, and have the confidence to take on the next obstacle.

I may not look exactly like I want to, or like someone else’s version of perfection.  Heck, I’m not even close to that.  

But if I look beyond who’s ahead and of me and don’t judge or worry about those behind, then I can run my own race with confidence.

And then I can say to my hippy, poochy, elephant-kneed self:  

Congratulations, you won your race today.  Let’s win it again tomorrow.

… Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead,  I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.   – Philippians 3:14-14