The old me would have been sore for a long time. The new me rejoiced.
I tore a muscle while training for today’s triathlon race so I could not race. (It still hurts, even at rest now.) I attended the race still, to support my friends. I did not race, yet, enjoyed every moment of it. It’s funny how God blesses us so extravangantly when we choose to let go.
Today, while supporting my friends at the race (from 6am till 2pm) and taking photos for them, I asked myself many things.
What does racing mean to me? What point is there in it, and why does it matter? What purpose did God have for me in not participating in today’s race. As day started to break and I watched the race atmosphere build up, I asked myself and God these questions.
Had I been proud? Was God trying to teach me something? I told myself, that every setback can be used postively if we choose to learn something from it.
It was when I was on the outside looking in today that I began to be filled with gratitude for my injury, because not racing helped me to clarify many things. Even though I did not race, I was surprised by how much fun I had. It made me see, that I enjoy the sport for what it is, because of the friends I made along the way, the time I spent training with them, for the spiritual and life lessons the sport has taught me, and less, for the opportunity to race.
I had been training on automatic mode for so long, that I failed to process the whole point of taking part in races. Today, my injury helped me to stop to think, and it helped me see what my heart really wants. I learnt, that I do not wish to take sports to a higher level-I neither enjoy being coached (even for free) nor taking the sport seriously. I learnt, that I want to be able to walk away from this whenever God wants me to. I also learnt, that sports is taken too seriously by too many people, and one must be careful not to let it destroy oneself.
Weather was bad today. Many people skidded, crashed and had bad, bad falls on their bikes. The swim had to be cancelled because of lightning dangers-some people cursed, shouted and sweared at the organisers, and displayed poor sportsmanship. A man flouted security rules, was stopped and then immediately started punching the security personnel in a crazy rage. Things got ugly.
It was then I saw how seriously some people took today’s race-so seriously that bad weather made them curse, a change in race course made them demand their money back, and wanting their way made them get into fights. It wasn’t worth it.
I told myself, that I never want sports to destroy me this way.
I ended up being thankful for my injury. My torn gracilis muscle saved me from a dangerous race today, as I know I easily could have been one of the injured soldiers. It made me see how the completion of every race really is a blessing from God- one needs to be fit, injury-free; weather needs to be good; one needs to be financially stable to own the sporting equipment; one needs to have motivation. It made me see how expensive triathlons are, how self-centred some of us can be, and how much effort is put into the game. Do I match, dollar for dollar, the race fees I pay with how much I give to the poor and needy? Do I spend as much time connecting with God as I do on training? Has this sport made me selfish and proud, or has it helped me become a better person?
Today, as I sat on the sidelines, I asked myself persistently: why race?
I admit, there is something about taking part in it that gives me an adrenaline rush, something about the atmosphere and the cameraderie which makes me enjoy races.
Today I saw, that while physical training is important, spiritual exercise is more important, still. If what we do does not better us, it can destroy us.
Today I saw, how “me” centred sports can make us. Just like how I thought having a great bike like Faith would help me complete many more races, perhaps many of us think that our faith (in God or our own abilities) would surely bring us far in life too. The tear in my gracilis (grace-lis) muscle reminded me, however, that without Grace, Faith can’t bring us anywhere at all.
While Faith is “me” centred, Grace is God-centred. It refers to God’s provision and unmerited favor upon our lives. Perhaps, what we tend to forget, is that in spite of our self-confidence, we would be nothing had it not been for what we had been blessed with by the Giver all good things. Our intelligence comes from our parents, our ability to afford education, the good health to study, all of which come from God. This providence, is what I call Grace, the grace that humbles us and teaches us gratitude, which is essential to helping us finish the race in life.
I learnt, that faith and grace must go hand in hand. Faith (as in my bike and in the spiritual context) is not enough to carry us through. Grace (and my gracilis muscle) is essential, too.
Today, I was really surprised at how much I enjoyed just watching the race, and discovering myself. I was happy because I realise I have been so very tired training and schooling and training and schooling and eating and training that my body just really needs a break. I was happy because I realised that this race did not have a hold on me- I let it go quite easily after pouting for a bit. I was happy because I learnt such an important lesson about Grace. I made a mistake, but God, in His love, loved me enough to chasten my wayward heart. That makes me incandescently happy. Like I always say, suffering, can often be a beautiful thing.
At the end of the race, they gave me a medal anyway, even though I did not compete. The medal made me see that races can be empty and useless. It reminds me of the day I may have to throw all my medals away, simply as an exercise of humility. It reminds me to cling loose to everything we have. I used to think I wanted to race better, race more. Now, I no longer see the necessity. I don’t want to race just because other people are, simply because I feel a need to better my timing, or because I need to prove something. I want to race only because God wants me to.
When the event ended, and I looked at the desolate, empty field which were racked with thousands of bikes at first, I saw how meaningless the sport can be, if we do not allow it to mould our characters the right way. It is meaningful only if it helps us to love God and the people around us more deeply, if it helps us make the world a better place.
I suppose, journeying in life and finishing life’s races well are all about the lessons we learn along the way. It is true when people say the process counts more. So today, in learning in this valuable lesson about Faith and Grace, I think I daresay that even though I did not swim, bike or run, I was a winner in my own small way. I did finish this part of the race, this spiritual segment of learning gratitude, humility and dependence on God.
After the event, a sportsperson I bumped into today and whom I met at a previous race wrote to me:
My friend,
I enjoyed our conversation today and for some reason, it sparked something in me. I just wrote a note of reflection (attached) and I just wanna let you know that I am dedicating it to you. I think it takes courage and wisdom to know your limits and you showed me that strength today by not racing with your recovering injury. You could have raced to prove a point but you didn’t.
Thanks. 🙂
KL
I learnt, that not racing can be a mark of strength, humility and surrender, too.
I learnt, that I enjoy sports, enjoy cycling not for what medal it can bring me, but for the friends I’ve made along the way, who’ve added depth, meaning and beauty to my life. No matter if I don’t get to race on race day, because it’s the spiritual race of life which we are called to finish, and finish well.
my friends and I on my 23rd birthday,
with my bike (Faith) which they put together for me
Excuse the pun, but perhaps, the best race is the one found in gRACE. And that was the race P told me I would finish, and that Dp dreamt of me completing.