My good friend, Brian, and I recently completed the Freescale Marathon here in Austin, TX. With a painful bound across the finish line we became part of the .2% of people in America who have crossed the finish line in a marathon. I know it sounds like boasting but after 26.2 miles I should get at least three sentences of boast time. It was an emotional, bonding, strenuous experience. But I found that there is a certain euphoria to the process of completion of a race of that distance. The starting line is crowded and exciting. There's the circus-like fanfare, the live music, the relishing the moment and the general heat of the crowd. The first five miles were also crowded with cheering on the sides of the street and for awhile you don't feel the need to push yourself to run because the mob carries you along with the motivation that if you stop you're going to cause a traffic jam. By the halfway point you begin to get lonely because by now, over half of the runners have dropped out for they had only signed up to run the half marathon. Suddenly the throngs on the side of the road give way to the occasional table of water, Powerade, and tongue depressers with globs of Vaseline. I think I applied 2 pounds of vaseline to my inner thighs during the course of the run. I'm not sure where it all went. These people brave the heat or cold of the day to wait for the 4 seconds that you'll drop by their location to get a jolt of sugar, water, or lubrication to make it to the next medical station. When you finally catch sight of the finish line and hear the roar of the crowd, the announcer calling your name, the smiles of people waiting, well you know you've got to finish strong, so you stir up whatever you've got left to sprint your heart out and into the waiting arms of those who are waiting for you as well as those you have finished with. Oddly they hug you even in your somewhat liquified aromatic condition. I'll leave it to you to draw your own application to running the race of faith. From the strong start, to the lonely halfway mark, to those who drop out, to the servants who support you at various points on the road, to the renewed energy of the final steps, to the waiting throng of those who have gone before. No wonder the Apostle Paul saw his walk of faith as less of a trial to be endured and more of a race to be won.