9:30 A.M.
October in New Carlisle, Indiana.
35 degrees Fahrenheit.
Hundreds of spectators crowd the last 400 meter stretch that leads to the finish line. A 20 miles-per-hour wind is blowing sleet and freezing rain sideways into the crowds and the runners.
It’s the New Prairie Regional cross country race and I’m quickly approaching this final stretch. I am soaking wet, my jersey is stuck to my skin, mud in my shoes, and there’s still about 800 meters, half a mile, to go. At my pace, I have less than 3 minutes left.
Coming out of the woods I see my coach, “D”, as we called him.
“Empty the tank!” he yells at me.
It told me what I already knew: that I was falling way behind and needed to make my final push early if I wanted to earn a spot that would advance me to the next race, or else my season was over. It was now or never. So, I kicked into high gear and broke away from the pack I was with.
At the competition level I was racing at though, everyone had the ability to do the same. The pack in front of me that I was trying to catch responded similarly, and by the time I was getting to the final stretch hardly any ground had been recouped. I was still in the same position even after my initial surge. Still, I pressed on and gave it everything I had.
“Empty the tank!” was still on repeat in my brain as I blocked out the crowd noise and focused solely on the white line 200 meters… 100 meters… 50 meters… 20 meters ahead of me. I crossed the finish line and fell to my knees gasping for air. When you exert that much energy over that extended period of time all of your faculties, except the ones needed to keep you conscious, shut off.
I had indeed ‘emptied the tank.’
What my four years as a cross country athlete and another four as a coach conditioned me to do was to approach many things in life with an “empty the tank” mentality. By that, I mean to push myself to the limits until something gives. Sometimes it ends in completing something quickly, and other times it ends in me crashing and burning when there’s not a natural “end” in sight.
It can treat me well at times, especially when I find something new and good that grabs my attention, like reading an old theologian, or devouring the works of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis (more on him later). Or when I need to get a job done like a project at work or at home. I tend to go all out, dive head first, and get it done ASAP.
Other times, it doesn’t serve me well, and I guess that is what this post is about. What I am starting to learn about living the Christian life is that balance is needed. My inclination is to be an all gas, no breaks type of person. How can I have an “empty the tank” perspective, but also keep a reminder to “pace myself”?
Here are my thoughts: first, on pacing.
Pace Yourself
Running a race really is such a great metaphor for life, and I’m glad that Paul uses it in 1 Corinthians 9.
24 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. 25 Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. 26 So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. 27 But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.
Paul confirms to us that the race Christians are running is for a prize that is imperishable, hallelujah! So, we must run to win. There’s only one thing: in a race, the winner is the one who can pace the best. In my personal example earlier, the race I was running was 5 kilometers (about 3.1 miles). Pacing is absolutely critical.
When I was early on in my running career, I did not understand pacing. It took a long time for me to figure out where that zone was where I was pushing hard, but not too much. Knowing how much effort to give at any given moment in a race is a tough thing to master. It’s often just as much mental as it is physical.
Paul wasn’t a professional athlete, but he still knew the basics of racing. He says that we must run our Christian race “so that you may obtain it,” with “it” being the winning prize. We should actually run our race of life with a tactful strategy in mind. We can’t go out too fast, but we also shouldn’t be going too slow. We need to find the pace that will cause us to win.
Paul also highlights that athletes “exercise self-control”, and that he, not as a runner, but as a faithful servant of Christ, does not “run aimlessly.” He continues on and says that he “discipline[s] his body and keep[s] it under control.” What Paul is getting at is that runners must exercise self-control and discipline, not just in training, but also in the race itself. Running with purpose, keeping composure, and sticking to a plan are all elements to a successful race.
The same goes for our Christian life, and this is where I struggle. It can be hard not to get excited for the Gospel and not say “yes” to everything. So often, I have said “yes” to many good things without thinking about it strategically. Little thought goes into how it will affect my life and my family’s life. No plan has actually been formed and thus, my efforts hardly end up being effective or intentional.
I’ve become much better at running 5Ks. My strategy has become pretty successful for myself. The first half mile is all adrenaline, so I need to just chill out, focus on breathing, and don’t get caught up with the crowd. Find your groove in the first and second miles, then start to push into your third mile. Go with your gut on when it’s time to “empty the tank” and give it all you’ve got. If you’ve paced yourself well enough, then you should be able to find the next gear to close out your race. That is what a successful race plan looks like.
In my ministry efforts, I am starting to make plans and strategies that look closer to this and not just starting at 100MPH. The goal of every race, however, is to end with no fuel remaining. Use up every bit of energy in the process and get the best time possible.
This is where we look at the importance of what I described earlier as “emptying the tank.”
Empty the Tank
One of my favorite quotes by C.S. Lewis in The Chronicles of Narnia (told you we’d be back) is from my favorite character, Reepicheep, in Book 3: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader. In it, we get an idea of how Lewis’ thought about our Christian pilgrimage, that we should exhaust all resources, pull out all the stops, and end with our hands empty in service of God. Reepicheep says this about trying to travel to meet Aslan,
“My own plans are made. While I can, I sail east in the Dawn Treader. When she fails me, I paddle east in my coracle. When she sinks, I shall swim east with my four paws. And when I can swim no longer, if I have not reached Aslan’s country, or shot over the edge of the world into some vast cataract, I shall sink with my nose to the sunrise.” (Reepicheep, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Chapter 14)
Illustration credit to Jef Murray Studios
This quote from Reepicheep, a mouse mind you, speaks to me so powerfully. He will exhaust every bit of resources and energy he has until he sees Aslan face to face. He is willing to even die in his attempts. This is exactly how I picture the Christian life is meant to be lived.
To Reepicheep, the sight of Aslan was worth more to him than a great ship, or his personal coracle, and even his own life. Can I say the same thing about my pursuit of God? Will I really give up everything to know him and make him known?
While pacing is very important to a successful race, it always has to be with the end goal of leaving everything behind and taking nothing with you across the finish line.
Christ taught this perfectly for us,
And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. (Luke 9:23-24)
What is to be gained by holding back? Nothing. What is to be lost? Everything.
We must — I must — be willing to give up everything in the pursuit of Christ and his calling. Most obviously, because Christ gave up everything so that we could have him.
Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)