Jumping the Train

I have been really burned out lately. Full time work, half time grad school, training for races, and trying to maintain healthy relationships with family and friends all require more hours than the day is long. I’m on a fast moving train and I want to get off.

Nothing in our culture advocates jumping the train. People are awarded for accomplishing a magnitude of tasks, but not for spending quality time with their spouse. As a culture, we admire “supermom” but not the mom who homeschools her kids (and she is the one who truly never leaves the office!). Doing more, and doing it faster, has become the focus of our worship, mine included. I try to read the Bible, knowing it’s where my focus should be, but I often just fall asleep. Clearly, I am not putting God first.

Tangentially, I have been thinking hard about the time, energy, and resources that it takes to train and race. Starting with money … a typical 5K costs $20, a duathlon may cost $40, and triathlons are upwards of $80. A good pair of running shoes costs $100, and a bike costs ten times that much. Bathing suits are $60 each, and then you have all the gear: helmet, water bottles, pedals and clips, tri shorts, inhalers ($25 copay), tubes … the list goes on. You would think that once you purchase any of these items, that’s it, you’re done. But things break and technologies change, and the sweet bike on the rack next to yours makes you feel like upgrading … if you’re not careful, triathlon is kind of a money bucket with a hole in the bottom. Not to mention the costs of time and energy it takes to train.

I am not saying that people shouldn’t do this. Running, biking, and swimming are healthy, and triathlon has changed thousands of people’s lives for the better. But I have been wondering lately how I can use my desire to race to serve God. Whenever I ponder this question, nothing touches my heart: I keep coming up empty.

I don’t race to be healthy, to inspire others, or because it keeps me out of trouble (although those are all peripheral benefits). Truthfully, it’s selfish - I race for my own pride. Regardless of whether I tell anyone about my upcoming race or how I finished my last one, racing makes me feel like someone significant in the eyes of the world.

And that’s why I think I’m on the wrong path.

Racing cuts into the time I spend with family and friends. It costs money that I am not recouping in cash prizes. It takes precious energy away from my devotions and does not make me feel whole the way I feel after prayer. Racing doesn’t even make me feel good about myself – rarely am I satisfied with my performance and if I have a bad race, my self-worth really tanks. As I write this, I realize that I am standing next to the wrong measuring stick.

I need to jump this train.

I didn’t start this blog entry about racing, and it’s not only racing that contributes to my burnout. It’s everything combined. After praying in the shower this morning (prayer is best in the shower, I think, because I’m vertical and have not once fallen asleep) I decided to race for God. Yes, I know it sounds cheesy, go ahead and laugh. Instead of extreme sports, I’d like to live for God in an extreme way and fill that part of my soul that is not filled by the finish line. Not to say I will never enter another 10K but I certainly don’t need to win it. It’s time to refocus.

My prayer is to be brave enough to jump the train, to live in a way that may not garner any worldly accolades, and to find the peace of mind that only a close relationship with God can provide.