welcome to the real world. now keep on running

One becomes a “real person” or enters the “real world” several times in life. I became a “real person” when I turned 16 and got my driver’s license. Then I became a “real person” when I turned 18 according to the US government. Then I became a “real person” and entered the “real world” a month later when I graduated high school. After that, I became a “real person” again when I started college 3 months later. I probably got “more real” when I turned 21 and celebrated with a Corona with lime, (ironically, not a Bud Light Lime). And then of course, I turned into a “real person” after I graduated college. But I didn’t see myself as a “real person” since I made my money by making coffee and sandwiches and trying to start my Asian Burrito Business. I got a “real job” a few months after graduating, and everyone around me told me I was really a “real person” then. It sure looks like it. You can tell your job is “real” because they make you listen to presentations on insurance and retirement plans.I have 40 hour work weeks now.

So if I’m in the “real world” now, why does it feel so boring?

I spend 8 hours a day in a lab with fewer windows then a prison. Gone are official ministry duties that came with being a prototypical “Cru” kid. Since my community group is a few hours after the Sunday church gathering, some might say that I literally have become a “Sunday Only Christian.” But I know better than to equate a Christian lifestyle with simply ministry or church stuff. So I’ll read (or try to) read my Bible every day before work. I’ll try to spend some time praying, listen to Christian music, read Christian blogs, and do more Christian things, only to find them tiresome and redundant after a few days and slip into a weird mix of idleness, apathy, anger, and numbness, all too eager to spend my time at the gym or in front of the television instead of with God.

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I recently agreed to run a half marathon in October with my co-workers. Since I've always seen myself as a “real athlete” and lately have been baffled by others who aren't good at sports, yet somehow manage to run 13.1 miles. I figured that since in my athletic prime, I could easily knockout 4 miles after months of not running, adding 9 more to that wouldn't be so difficult. Then I remembered as I was running one day, that lifting weights and gaining bulk is counter-intuitive to the whole endurance thing, and I was out of breath less than a mile into my planned 3 mile route.

I never understood how distance running was considered a sport. To me, sports have scores that are straight forward and easy to understand. Put the ball in the basket to score some points, or in the goal, or cross the plane of the goal line. Competitive racing makes sense to me. Beat the other people to the finish line first and you win.

But after high school, or college intramurals, participation in competitive sports abruptly ends. Since I’m an athlete and have an urge to do physical things, I have to do something. So I lift weights. And I can see the results immediately in the mirror, and see the number of pounds and sets that I can do increase. But with this distance running thing, I just get tired. Even if I increase my distance, I feel just as tired running 2 miles or 4. There is no “high” I get from running. I always saw running as training for something else. That way, in the third period of a middle school wrestling match, I’d have more in the tank than my opponent (although I was terrible at wrestling and didn’t make it to the third period a whole lot), or as time wound down in the second half of a soccer game, I had enough energy to get past the defense, or in the third set tie breaker of the sectional tennis tournament to get to the quarter finals, I could come back and defeat the much older, stronger high school senior when I was a tiny sophomore (the highlight of my athletic career. Forgive me for exposing you to my high school glory days. I reached my athletic peak way too early).

With running, you are training to run more. And it’s boring. That’s why I’m having trouble building my endurance right now and even getting motivated to run.

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Paul’s words about “finishing the race” (2 Timothy) are taken way out of context all the time, although it’s easy to see why it seems like a verse Tim Tebow would use on his eye black. Paul is about to die. He has been persecuted, shipwrecked, beaten, and tortured, all for the Gospel. Paul didn't earn extra heaven points for starting churches.

(Warning: cheesy Christian metaphor ahead)

Paul’s job (or ours for that matter) is not to score as many heaven points as possible. Jesus scored all the points we need (ahh there’s the cheese!). It’s not even to build up “spiritual muscle” (I wrote about that before, and it’s important, but not our primary focus). Our job is to endure, to set our eyes fixed on Christ.

This life is a marathon. It will hurt. It will be painful. There will be stretches of easy soft terrain through beautiful scenery, and stretches of uphill rocky climbs, but perhaps the most difficult stretch is through the flat, boring desert.

I’m only 23 and don’t pretend to be a sage full of wisdom (ok actually I do), but in my limited experience, most of life is boring. If you enter the work place right out of college, have fun with those 40 hour weeks, doing the same things, over and over again. Yes you can look forward to better times, to better scenery and such, but the next stage of life is not your ultimate pleasure.  If you come to the next bend of the road in life and think, “ah yes, now I’ll be a real person after I get a job/degree/wife” you're only guarantee is disappointment. I've got 2 out of 3, and I still want more. And as much as I’d like to think that getting #3 on that list will satisfy me completely, I know better.

CS Lewis writes in The Four Loves , “We find thus by experience that there is no good applying to Heaven for earthly comfort. Heaven can give heavenly comfort; no other kind. And earth cannot give earthly comfort either. There is no earthly comfort in the long run.”   

The daily devotions, the Hillsong music, the poorly written Christian blogs, they all become cliché when we zoom in on us, when we have lost sight of heaven, when we look for our rewards here on earth and when they are not given, we are disillusioned. That lovely valley and stretch of life is all too short, and the uphill struggle doesn't always give way to a life lesson or reward.

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I won’t understand this whole marathon thing in full until I finish and complete it. I won’t understand this whole life thing either until it is completed. But that’s meant to be a comfort. I’m told (by Facebook statuses and tweets by unathletic people) about the satisfaction that comes with finishing a long run. God tells me that unspeakable joy is said to be had with him forever in eternity. Jesus died for my sins, scored all the points needed to have victory over evil. I’ll keep on running, I’ll get distracted along the way probably, may even turn back for a bit, maybe stop by the side of the road to rest, maybe get off the road. I don’t know what my fickle heart will decide. But I believe a faithful God will give me endurance to finish and to one day see Him, and understand the full satisfaction of a race run well.

The words, “Well done good and faithful servant” are waiting for you, if you want them. “Real life” begins when that’s what you start living for.

Hey that’s the name of Cru at Ohio State! It all makes sense now!