I’m still running, but not in the dark…not for my glory…not for trophies. I’m back to the beginning and am running for my health and physical fitness and the pleasure of being outdoors in the world God created for us to enjoy. My morning runs (not early) are now a quiet time of prayer with the Lord.

When I first took up running, my desire was to speed up my metabolism and drop a few pounds. Once I met that challenge, the need for a new goal started nagging me. Running was fast becoming my life. After talking to runners and reading running magazines, I was motivated to run in a 10K (6.2 miles) race. My friends and family encouraged me and onward I plunged into the running world.

The Rookie Race and the New Goal
My running attire was a mangy cut off sweat shirt and a pair of faded blue shorts. The clothes shouted, “Rookie.”  The starter’s gun went off and the race began. It was a hard run but crossing the finish line was exciting. People all along the sidelines were cheering the finishers. They were cheering ME! The applause was addictive! I was hooked! Running in races was no longer enough…now I wanted to win! I started reading books on “How to be a Winner.” My training morphed into longer and harder runs.  My goal was set…win a trophy!

The Trophy
It was a five-mile race and I was ready. Not only trained like a veteran runner but now I even dressed like one. The hard, disciplined work paid off and I finished the race placing second in my division. I won a TROPHY! But, one trophy wasn’t enough. Like Alexander the Great, I wanted more. “Number One” was now my new goal!

The Glory and Trophies
Hearing my name called and moving forward through the crowd to receive my trophy was my glory. Though I lowered my head humbly as I walked forward, my heart was filled to the brim with pride. As the running years progressed, my trophies were taking over the shelves of my home office and my heart. Most of my races were on Sunday mornings which meant skipping church.

The No Trophy Race
It was a beautiful, cool, crisp Sunday morning. I felt good and ran well, finishing first in my age group. Now the waiting game: wait until all runners finished, wait for the race director to gather all his data and then wait for the trophies to be given out. The official tally was completed and the director started calling the winners forward. My name was called. It was time for me to humbly walk forward for my trophy and my applause. Reaching out my hand for my trophy I received instead a whisper, “Your trophy is damaged. We’ll order you a new one.” I walked away empty handed and red-faced with embarrassment. By the time I got home I was annoyed at the race sponsors for not replacing my trophy before the race. After all, they only needed to replace ONE trophy – mine was the only one damaged. When telling the story to my daughter, Jody, she said, “Mom, maybe the Lord is telling you that you’re making trophies too important.”  No way, I thought, it was just poor race management.

The Marathon
I had finished the Miami Marathon. My time was good and I knew I should at least place in the top five in my division. It would be the ultimate glory to have my name and time called: to walk forward through such a large crowd of people and hear their applause for ME! All the runners were in, and all the age division trophies were given out. All except MINE! There was a glitch! The computer sheet was messed up… in MY division only! We went home after that long, sweltering wait, still not knowing how I placed. Just fleetingly it entered my mind, “Maybe Jody was right and the Lord is drawing my attention to my wrong priorities.” But I shrugged it off as a computer foul up.

The Dark Scary Morning
The paperboy and I are the only ones outside at 5 in the morning. Things seemed a little creepy this particular morning. There was a car parked with its interior lights on. What was that person doing sitting there at this time of the morning? I had a foreboding feeling when another car appeared to be traveling too slowly. I was nervous but I kept on running. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up and my palms were sweating, but I kept running.

Halfway through the run the shrubbery beside the road rustled slightly…a shadowy hulk moved out from behind the bushes. He stood in front of me, blocking my path. Wild thoughts raced through my mind in a flash. “This is it…I’m dead.” From instinct only, and in a matter of seconds, I turned and ran the opposite way, screaming for help as loud as I could. My panicky calls echoed in the darkness. No one opened a door. No one opened a window. No lights were turned on. I looked back and saw the hulk lumbering after me. Still yelling for help, I ran to a house and pounded on the front door. No answer. No light. Only silence. No one would help me. I couldn’t call on God because I was too ashamed. I was His child but, like the Prodigal, I had been living my own selfish life.

All alone I turned to face my pursuer. The breaking dawn lit up an empty street. He was gone! He had disappeared like he appeared…quickly and quietly. A door opened from across the street and a voice called from the lighted doorway, “Can I help you?” … I was safe.

The Restoration
God had me running through the streets like a scared dog. None of my trophies could save me. None of my self proclaimed glory could lift me up. I was like King Nebuchadnezzar. I had to be brought low, for me to look up. When I looked up I saw God in control. The scary man didn’t hurt me. As he did for Nebuchadnezzar, the Lord graciously opened up my understanding. He showed me who is to be praised and who is to receive honor.

“I, Nebuchadnezzar, raised my eyes toward heaven, and my sanity was restored. Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and glorify the King of heaven, because everything he does is right and all his ways are just. And those who walk in pride he is able to humble” (Daniel 4:34, 37).

The Epilog
I’m still running, but not in the dark…not for my glory…not for trophies. I’m back to the beginning and am running for my health and physical fitness and the pleasure of being outdoors in the world God created for us to enjoy. My morning runs (not early) are now a quiet time of prayer with the Lord.

Miriam Gautier is a member of Treasure Coast Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Stuart, Fla.