A place to refresh your heart and renew your mind for the journey ahead

Sunday, July 29, 2012

The Wet and Muddy Race

God humored me as I stepped out of the dorms early morning on Saturday, July 28.  Dark clouds billowed in the distance over Lake Erie and to the west thick gray clouds hovered, threatening rain.  The sun peaked out between the clouds in the east and I wondered if it would again rain like it did at the half marathon.

The race would take place at Asbury Woods, near Brown’s Farm.  While I was unfamiliar with Brown’s Farm, I knew Asbury Woods very well.  Since I discovered it last autumn, I have often walked through the woods, waded through the gentle rapids of Walnut Creek and have seen a variety of wildlife, including four curious little raccoon cubs.  So I was excited to run this race.

Though the race started at 9am, the email declaring my entry said to arrive at 7am to avoid the rush and pick up my packet.  Well, I arrived fifteen minutes after 7am and certainly avoided the crowd.  Only two other people stood there waiting with me while the Asbury Woods crew continued to hammer in ‘No Parking’ signs and set up the registration table.  I guess there’s nothing like being a little early.

The course around Asbury Woods looked complicated on the map, so I had ample time to study it and ask questions.  Then I walked a half of a mile into the course to make sure I understood the turns. A handful of rabbits nibbling an early morning breakfast of grasses perked their ears up as I passed by.  The course was laid out in a figure 8 between two fields and a trail path in the woods.

Then it rained.  I took shelter under a tree for a couple minutes but quickly realized it was not going to let up.  In fact, the steady down pour quickly produced puddles and little streams of water.  I walked quickly back to the pavilion and took refuge underneath it with the other runners.  Someone in a megaphone announced, “The race will continue as scheduled unless there is thunder and lightning.”

As if on a divine cue lightning flashed and thunder rumbled overhead.  The man went on the megaphone again and urged all fifty or so people to squeeze into the small pavilion.  I stood near the edge next to someone who resembled Clark Kent (secret identity of Superman), glasses and all.  “Well,” I thought, “now I’ll have to run against Superman.”

As the rain poured and cascaded over the roof, we huddled together underneath our shelter.  A man with a goatee made the comment, “I prayed that it would not be hot and sunny today but this isn’t what I meant.”

They way he and his friend carried on their conversation I guessed correctly that they were Christians.  So in a little while we shared our favorite Bible verses and passages and talked about some other odds and ends.  I was glad for this as we waited for the rain to let up and the race to begin.  

I will say no more about the waiting, except that we waited, huddled and chatted with each other for about 45 minutes.  Finally, it ended and we took our positions to begin the race.  At Presque Isle we formed one large line as wide as the road and several runners back; however, here at Asbury Woods we lined up in a single battle array as if we were all going to charge up the grassy slope and meet an enemy over the hill.  No one started as second or third, we all started first.

The man with the megaphone signaled and the race began. 

This race was different then the half marathon.  For one thing, I ran on grass and trails as opposed to the asphalt.  And you might quickly suspect that grass is quite slippery when wet.  As I made my first loop and came down the first little hill, which was rather steep, I said to someone, “Maybe we should just slide down the hill.”  I almost did!  I slipped but caught myself.  A new obstacle greeted me as I reached the bottom of the hill: the rain formed a long, little lake on the path.  I sloshed through them and would do so again two more times.  At the top of the fields I encountered more puddles and rivers of water formed by the rainfall.   

Mile two brought me into the foggy woods along a muddy trail on the Walnut Creek ridge.  Every once in a while I heard the drip of water from the leaves or an occasional bird chirp as I dodged yet another mud puddle and splashed through a smaller one.  I remember the magnetic attraction mud puddles had towards me when I was a kid.  For some reason they drew me near to jump in, play in or splash around in.  And now many years older, I splashed through them again.

The third mile was a repeat of miles one and two, except that the later part of it cut through the middle of the field towards the finish line.  At that juncture I sprinted to the end and finished, satisfied with how I did. 

They later held the awards ceremony at the same pavilion we huddled under only an hour before.  I stayed even though I had many other things to do back at the dorms.  I watched as the over-all winners received their medallions.  Then they began to hand out medals for the different age groups, beginning with the grade school children, junior high kids and the teenagers/young adults.  I waited in anticipation when it came to my age group, the 25-40 yrs old.  They started with the 10th place and worked their way up.  Sixth, fifth, fourth, third and in second place in my age group, they called my name! 

So I received my silver medallion with joy—joy that I ran the race and finished the course, even though I was very wet and muddy at the end.  Someday, when all is said and done, I will complete the race here on earth and stand before my God, the Judge of all the earth.  Though I will not receive a medal as such, I hope to here the words, “Well done my good and faithful servant.  You have been faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things.  Welcome home, Jeffrey.  Enter into the joy of your Master.”

Till then, may I and may you run the race!

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