Faking An Injury

When I was in 6^th, 7^th and 8^th grade I remember being very competitive. We had a few guys who were always competing, always attempting to team up with the winners. However, there was one guy that I always had a desire to beat. There was one guy who always had a desire to beat me.

 Joe moved to my neighborhood from California in 3^rd grade. I remember his very first day in my classroom. He looked like a stereo-typical California kid. Blond, shoulder length hair, very healthy and laid back. Since he lived down the street from me we developed a very close friendship. Eventually, we were together most all of the time. Sleeping-over,  sneaking out and, well, getting involved in what we call in our adult life, mischief. We marked up fresh poured concrete at the nearby school and would get chased by the crew. We were chased often by others in our pre-gangsta neighborhood for various reasons. Sneaking a cigarette from his parents open pack on the counter or faking we were purchasing a pack for our parents at the local corner gas station so we could hide behind the Planned Parenthood Center and smoke the pack together (I would try to eat Hostess Twinkies or Ding Dongs to hide the smoke on my breath – never worked…Just saying!). The stories are endless but I’ll stop before I reveal too much about me and get away from the point.

Our competitive nature was not limited to sports. Such other wagers might be related to ‘who could grow the thickest, darkest whisker?’ Yes, I said, whisker, as in singular. If it grew on the right, lower quadrant of the chin, well, by golly, you always stood where people could see your chins right-lower quadrant. Or, I vividly remember when we started to ‘hit the weights.’ Whose bicep was bigger, or who could bench press more?

Joe was taller than I was, so jumping was part of the battle. I would work out and play basketball wearing a 30 pound vest. When I took that vest off I could fly! I still have dreams that I can fly….because of the vest, I’m sure!  How about football? Yes, even though we were great friends, we tried to hurt one another, and, when we did, we celebrated! Granted, the other would be mad, but then we would walk home together discussing and forecasting the next opportunity. And, running was played out among our desire to beat one another.

I hate running. Hear me, I hate running! I’ve always done it and up until the last couple of years, I still attempted to do it in an attempt to be healthy, even though, I hate it. But you remember the mile run in grade school?  Well, I’m arriving at the point of this blog. In 8^th grade we had to run the mile twice a year. Joe and I always, (can you guess?) competed, unofficially, against each other.  

I will never forget the time I, by all means, did not want to lose. But I had to run the scheduled PE Mile in 8^th Grade. We stretched, we prepared and we began. If I remember correctly, we had to run around the school yard about 2 and ¾ times. I was on the 2^nd time around, coming up the back side. Joe was about 40 yards in front of me. It was then my legs felt like bricks, no, blocks! I did not feel like going on. The greater competition had now moved from wanting to beat Joe, into a battle within my own mind. I simply needed to convince myself that I could finish. The war was raging! Then, finally, I realized Joe was going to beat me in ‘this’ race, so I started to plot a how I could fake a twisted ankle and fall. “Do I?” I would say to myself. “No! I can’t!” Why not? I went on and on.

My mind was racing itself, let alone the mile I was attempting to complete. Then I realized, as I planned how to fail I was actually progressing and accomplishing my goal. I didn’t like it, but I realized I did not need to give up. By this time, I had less than 1/8 of a mile left and I sucked it up, finishing the race. Do you want to know something else? I did it in one of my best times. If my memory recalls, I ran the mile in 6 minutes and 20 seconds. I don’t know about you, but that was really good for me!

“I press on to take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me.” “Forgetting what is behind and staining toward what is ahead. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ.”  (Philippians 3:12a, 13a, 14  New International Version)

To some, this is a common passage of Scripture, to some, it is not. Either way, I want to encourage you, regardless of your past, to press on, to keep moving forward. You may be moving forward and missing out on so much because your mind is dwelling on the past or trying to figure out how to give up because you are so tired, or hurting. You want to fake an injury so you can have an excuse not to finish.

So often, you are moving forward and progressing and not even realizing it. Realize it! Press on! I may have come in second when I was running that mile, but spiritually, you don’t come in second……you win!