Ironman

Last fall, one of our friends completed an Ironman triathlon (swim about 2.5 miles, bike 112 and THEN run a marathon!) in The Woodlands. I was not expecting it to be one of the coolest experiences I've had in a long time.  The atmosphere was electric! Waiting at the finish line contemplating the training and mastery over their bodies as the crowd cheered all the finishers was, to put it mildly, a memorable experience.

As each finisher approached the announcer would loudly pronounce

"Drew A.! You ARE an IRONMAN!"

He got in the water at 7:00 am and finished about 7:00pm. Un-stinking-believable! I get tired when I watch tv for that long.

The very pregnant wifey deserves an award too!

You are our Ironman Drew!!!!

All of this training and running made me think back to a funeral that we and Ironman's family spoke at a few years ago. One of my sweet friends passed away from a 2 year battle with melanoma at 26. I'll never forget what a beautiful picture a man named Bill created that day. He said that much like the ending of the Olympic marathon that summer, he pictured Lana walking into a stadium of cheering people as she finished her final lap. Jesus there to embrace her at the end as she "finished the race" proclaiming "Well done! Good and faithful servant."

 Lana taught me so much through her struggle but what God seems to be especially pressing on my heart lately is to not be mastered by my own body/desires. Paul said "I discipline my body like an athlete, training it to do what it should." Here at the Ironman, all the participants beat their bodies into submission. Everything they did and every choice they made was this amazing denial of their bodies' cry for rest. 

All in pursuit of the goal line. 

Am I conquered by my own body? Or am I teaching myself the discipline of denial so foreign to our world? 

Do I indulge the "slights" and let my justified resentment roll? Or do I stop, pray and offer forgiveness which has not been asked for making these thoughts captive to Christ?

Do I worship God? Or do I worship (in a very subtle fashion) myself?

As Drew battled through the miles and Lana through the cancer, one a metaphor for the other, I pray my life would be one of engaging the battle, wrestling, and finishing without my eyes breaking from the goal. So that on that final stretch, I might say

I have fought the good fight.

I have finished the race.

I have kept the faith.