Are You Winning Your Race?

His left foot was fractured, but he ran anyway. He had to run. It was the last race in the last Olympics in which he would ever compete. Dave Johnson ran.

The stress fracture had happened a few months before the Barcelona, Spain Olympics in 1992. The hope was that if he stayed off it and didn’t practice it would get better and he would be able to compete. But the stress fracture became unbearable after the first day of the two-day Decathlon in Spain.

Dave had to complete the last of ten events, the 1500 meters, to medal. He put on a shoe two sizes larger, laced it up tight, and went to the starting line to run four laps. Dave told me that in the Decathlon, the competition comes down to the last lap on the last turn on the back side of the track in the last event. To further complicate matters, all your strength is gone after two days of all-out exertion.

Dave ran, forcing himself to put one step in front of the other, until he finished the race and won the bronze medal. He was the first American to medal in the Decathlon since Bruce Jenner had won a gold metal ten years earlier.
"If you doubt you can accomplish something, then you can't accomplish it. You have to have confidence in your ability, and then be tough enough to follow through." Rosalyn Smith Carter.
I had the privilege of knowing Dave Johnson during this period in his life. At that time, I lived in Southern California and worked at the church where Dave and his wife, Sherry, attended. The church's youth director was one of his training partners and my roommate dated another of Dave’s training partners. Terry, who was the track coach at Azusa Pacific University, where Dave attended and trained, also attended the church and was one of the elders.

Not long after I started working at the church I attended an after-church luncheon at Terry’s home. It was a beautiful Southern California day, so most of us were outside. I was sitting at a table with Terry, with my back to the some of the other tables. Terry began talking to someone at another table about a recent appearance on a talk show and some comments made by a sports announcer. That caught my attention.

After lunch, everyone just sat around and talked. I ended up sitting next to a very nice lady, just spending time getting to know her. During the course of our conversation, I noticed that she was wearing a lovely ring and she told me she had gotten it in Korea in 1988. (The Olympics had been held in Seoul, Korea in 1988). Perhaps I had been slow on the uptake, but now things began to add up. I took a closer look at this group of people and realized they were all in extremely great shape. Not just good – great! I asked my table companion, “Who are these people?”

As we talked, she began to point out different people; he is the world record holder in this event, he competed in the ’84 Olympics in Los Angeles, and he competed in ’88 in Seoul, and so on. To my surprise, I eventually learned that my friendly tablemate was none other than Sherry Johnson, the wife of Dave Johnson.

While this group of people was mostly world class athletics, they are also people just like you and me, with bills, fears, joys, friends, sorrows, etc. Dave would frequently say that anyone can train their body, but it’s the mental game where you win or lose. He had the chance to live out those words in 1992.

The lead-up to the ‘92 Barcelona Olympics was saturated with commercials from Reebok asking, “Who’s the World’s Greatest Athlete, Dan or Dave?” The Dan was Dan O’Brien, who went on to win a gold metal in the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.

But 1992 was a different story. After all the hype stirred up by the ad campaign, Dan didn’t even make the Olympic team. During the Olympic trials he willingly passed on the lower heights in the pole vault and then failed to clear the bar in the next round after his three tries. The result was that he did not receive any points for the event and failed to qualify for the Olympics. As a consequence, Reebok refocused the ads to rally support around Dave.

Steve Young says, “The principle is competing against yourself.” In spite of the hype, Dave was competing against himself as he began his last race with the goal to the finish. That race required him to place one painful step in front of the other to finish and medal in the Olympics. Where does that type of strength come from?

1 Corinthians 9:24-27 comes to my mind as a fitting passage:
Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.

And everyone who competes for the prize is temperate in all things. Now they do it to obtain a perishable crown, but we for an imperishable crown.

Therefore I run thus: not with uncertainty. Thus I fight: not as one who beats the air.

But I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified.

In Paul's day, a laurel wreath of victory was awarded to the victors in a race. In the ancient Olympic Games the “crown” was made of branches of the wild olive tree, but these were corruptible crowns. Paul continues on in the passage illustrating his own behavior, using the example of a boxer. He does not punch at the air as a boxer hitting at the shadows, but with direction and determination he keeps his eye on the true prize.

Verse 27 “is like the horses in a chariot race, which must be kept well in hand by whip and rein if the prize is to be secured" (Robertson and Plummer). Paul’s body would not be his master. He worked towards self-discipline to “bring it into bondage.” Paul was determined to withstand the test and not be disqualified.

Are you winning your race?

What Makes You Come Alive?

A fine misty fog drizzled and rolled over the ground. As morning light broke, I sat on the back patio steps anticipating the day to come. Normally the fog would have been a welcome change to the typical Southern California weather, but not this morning. I had paper flags, streamers, and tablecloths decorating the tennis court, surrounding walkways, and other event areas. At 11:30 a.m., over one hundred people, in full costume, were going to be descending on this location for a medieval party. As a group, we had emptied out every costume store in the San Gabriel Valley.

The planning committee for this event was made up of people I chose because I knew they enjoyed having fun and believed in creating the impossible. The committee (I use that term loosely) had met over a period of several months, planning and having a good time during what we loosely called meetings. This event was just something I wanted to do for fun. That was the stated goal; fun! Members of the committee went on a recognition mission to The Medieval Times, a Southern California medieval theme dinner theater attraction. We went ostensibly to do some fact-finding and to gather ideas for our event. To be truthful, if all we had was the enjoyment of the committee meetings, it would have been enough. But there was more to come and it only got better.

We arranged for two guys dressed up as jesters to be parking attendants. We set up gaming sites, refreshment booths, craft areas, and then, of course, the tennis courts turned into the banquet hall. We placed eight-foot long rectangular tables around the outside edge of the courts, divided into four sections. Each section had its own theme color. As people arrived, they checked in at the registration tent and received a color marker that matched with their dining area. This color would also indicate the jouster they would root for throughout the event.

Yes, a jouster! Our decision to have jousters brought about one of the questions we needed to conquer during our planning: how do we do a joust that utilizes a horse on a tennis court? In the end, I found stick ponies colorfully painted in different colors. I’m sure you rode one of these when you were little, but the question for us was, would grown men ride them? Surprisingly, the answer was yes!

Another question that came up was whether the men would wear tights to this event. Believe it or not, they did! We had knights, jesters, monks, jugglers, peasants, minstrels and all sorts of people dressed in medieval clothing. Every guest came in costume. Most of them rented their costumes, but some borrowed them from Renaissance Fairs, and a few people even sewed their own. It was utterly amazing to see how everyone got so thoroughly into the spirit of things!

One big concern for me was that in order to be true to the period, we chose not to use eating utensils. How would our guests react? To me this decision would add to the atmosphere and the authenticity of the event. But it brought additional problems with it, such as what we would feed the people and how? We finally decided to assign men to dig a big pit and we cooked Cornish game hens with red potatoes and a few vegetables in oven bags wrapped in foil, right there in the ground. We even had suitably attired “wenches” serving the food.

One of the event's highlights was a best costume contest, with the winners being crowned king and queen of the event. For entertainment we had the jousting team, which was made up of four men. Our jousters included three very fit and handsome college-age men and one, let’s just say, much older man. I had met with the men before the joust and it had been decided that the older gentleman would win the event. Yes, it was rigged, but what great fun! The whole event was wonderfully enjoyable! Our goal had been met.

Why this story? Because I believe it is incredible what people can do, what joy can be had and how it can spread, and what astonishing things can happen if one person has a vision, believes it is possible, and then surrounds themselves with great people that get on board and catch the vision. This is just one possible example, but oh, what a pleasure it was! I look back and I still find it unbelievable to realize what we accomplished. Men in tights! I mean men of all ages, even manly men . . . in tights! Everyone got into the spirit of it, bought into it, and lived and enjoyed that day of fun.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive. Howard Washington Thurman

Time To Come Alive

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive." Howard Washington Thurman

What makes you come alive? What makes your soul sing at just the thought? Find time to do it. Your heart and soul will thank you in ways you can’t imagine. This could be a small thing, one thing or many things. Whatever it is, perhaps knowing this is a signal that you need to consider a change in your life direction, or that you should seriously contemplate the idea of a career change.

If you don’t know what brings you joy, it may be because you haven’t met yourself. If you don’t know who you are, who you really are, how will you every find your joy? How will you know your joy if it walked up and knocked on your life’s door?

One way to do this is to acquire a journal. It could anything from a simple spiral-bound tablet to a fancy leather bound plank book. Need ideas to get started? Describe your perfect day from the moment you wake up until you lay your head down at night. Be as detailed as possible and include colors, smells, sounds, and all the sensory impressions you can think of. Take as many pages as you need to finish this task

Here are ten questions to salt the mine and help get you started. For each question, write out why you answered the way you did. This is an important part of this step.
1. What is your favorite color?
2. What is your favorite time of year?
3. Do you like the beach, mountains, desert, high country, coast, prairie, or what?
4. Do you have many friends or just a few close friends?
5. How do you feel about each of your family members? Pick at least one word to describe each of your family relationship. Write one paragraph about each person.
6. Are you a morning person? Or do you come alive at night-time?
7. What is one item you can’t live without daily?
8. What makes you cry?
9. What makes you laugh?
10. How do you want to be remembered?

These are just a few questions to get you going. Think of more. I know it will take time to walk through the process to find the value of you, but it is important! Don’t just sleep walk through your life. Get to know yourself. Voltaire said it so clearly: An unexamined life is not worth living.

Is Hope Real . . . This Time?

Adults told us to dive under our desks, grab the metal legs, and keep our heads down. This action was to protect us from The Bomb. On another occasion we were let out of school early and were told to go directly home. The object was to time our trip home so our teachers would know exactly how long it took to get home in case of a bombing.

Then . . .

We were told Cuba had missiles aimed at us and ready to fire. Where was Cuba? Why did they want to hurt my friends and family? I didn’t even know what a missile was, but I could tell it scared all the adults.

This president would frequently come on the black & white television and make us feel like everything was safe and going to be okay. His speaking taught me a new word, inspired. He had a way of speaking that caused you to well-up inside with hope.

At a different time he encouraged the whole country with his confidence that we could send a person to the moon. To the moon! What an incredible thought. He also called on everyone to give their time and talent to help others. He started a group called the Peace Corps to reach out to help those in need. His sincerity took the fear out of diving under my desk and made me believe the world was full of possibilities.

Then . . .

My principal came into my classroom, whispered into my teacher’s ear, and she started to cry. Was it the bomb? No. It was my president. Someone had killed him and we were sent home. Children and adults across the land went home and sat in front of their television for days.

Darkness spread over the landscape. Sadness and grief was the norm for a long time. I’m not sure it ever really went away, just settled deep inside.

Life moved on, but slowly.

Years later, the president’s brother, Robert, decided to run for president. There was a memory of the inspiration we had once known, the hope, and the challenge to be more. Robert came through my hometown on a train. The train stopped and as he spoke from the back of it the mood of the crowd was electric, his speech was rousing, and our enthusiasm and hope for the future was high.

Then . . .

Two days later, after his acceptance speech at the Ambassador Hotel in Los Angles, he was shot while leaving the building through the kitchen area.

This series of events spanned the time from my second grade class to high school and set in place my lack of hope in all things political. This lack has only been reinforced over the years with Watergate, Iran -Contra, White House intern scandals, Iraq war, and on and on. Whatever party is in office seems to become haughty and makes stupid mistakes while the other party only points fingers and declares this is the worst leader ever. My conclusion is they are both wrong and much more alike than different perhaps just two sides of the same coin. I have become a member of the disillusioned majority. You don’t hear from us very often because we are busy going about our jobs, raising our families, taking care of parents that are aging, and just living.

And Now . . .

We are facing a new presidential season. Hope is in the air. Will this time be different? My hope is it’s just more words from adults telling us to dive under our desks for safety. I want real hope to be demonstrated. May it be so.