Life’s Race

By Ron Ringo

Do you remember from Roman mythology where the name January came from? Janus was the god of beginnings, the deity responsible for the new year. He was the so-called custodian of the universe. He held the sacred first hour of the day, the first day of the month, and the first month of the year, which bears his name. He is depicted as having two heads set back to back, one looking at the past and the other looking ahead to the future. T. S. Elliot once wrote, “What we call the beginning, Is often the end, And to make an end, Is to make a beginning. The end is where we start from.”

I have found this to be a profound statement in my life. I have often taught that we are in a process of evolving. I may have certificates on my wall that show I have had certain trainings, but the story of getting to the place, to achieve said certificate, may cause some to ask, “why? how?” Most of us have had to go through trials or difficulties to be where we are today. We have had to look back at the past with an eye on our future. That’s the gratification of enduring and making the life we want. I want to share a story that has great meaning to me, which embodies this concept. It is called,

“The Race”, written by D. H. Groberg

“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” they shout at me and plead,
“There’s just too much against you now, this time you can’t succeed.”
And as I start to hang my head in front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will as I recall that scene,
For just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being.
A children’s race, young boys, young men; now I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear; it wasn’t hard to tell.
They all lined up so full of hope. Each thought to win that race
Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his dad that he would be the one.
The whistle blew and off they sped, as if they were on fire
To win, to be the hero there, was each young boy’s desire.
And one boy in particular, his dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought, “My dad will be so proud.”
But as he speeded down the field, across the shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win lost his step and slipped.
Trying hard to catch himself, his arm flew out to brace,
And ‘mid the laughter of the crowd, he fell flat on his face.
So, down he fell, and with him, hope. He couldn’t win it now.
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished he’d disappear somehow.
But, as he fell, his dad stood up and showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said, “Get up and win the race!”
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit, that’s all.
And ran with all his mind and might to make up for the fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.”
But, in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face.
That steady look that said again, “Get up and win the race!”
So, he jumped up to try again, ten yards behind the last;
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought, “I’ve got to run real fast!”
Exceeding everything he had, he regained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
Defeat! He lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.
“There’s no sense running any more. Three strikes, I’m out, why try?”
The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had fled away.
So far behind, so error-prone, closer all the way.
“I’ve lost, so what’s the use?” he thought, “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad, who soon he’d have to face.
“Get up,” an echo sounded low, “Get up and take your place.
You weren’t meant for failure here; get up and win the race.”
With borrowed will, “Get up,” it said, “You haven’t lost at all,
For winning is no more than this—to rise each time you fall.”
So up he rose to win once more. And with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit.
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been.
Still, he gave it all he had, and ran as though to win.
Three times he’d fallen, stumbling; three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win, he still ran to the end.
They cheered the winning runner, as he crossed the line, first place,
Head high and proud and happy; no falling, no disgrace.
But, when the fallen crossed the finish line, last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race.
And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he’d won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad, he sadly said, “I didn’t do so well.”
“To me you won,” his father said, “you rose each time you fell.”
And now when things seem dark and hard and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy helps me in my race.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall.
“Quit!” “Give up, you’re beaten!” They still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says, “Get up and win that race!”

With this New Year upon us, we can make the determination to not let life’s ups and downs decide the outcome for us. We must be willing to work ever harder, pressing forward, even without knowing how it will really end. It gives us the chance to reevaluate our plans, to consider the days ahead, and the promises of new beginnings. If we get up each time we fall, as did the young boy in the race, and continue down our path, we can experience renewed determination and hope, instead of failure. We also gain the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes when we endure to yet another end. We may even be as surprised as the boy, to find the crowd cheering louder for our hard fought finish than it had for the proud winner.

Our “Race” is not over. We have the ability each day to get up and run another leg. Our loving Heavenly Father is in the stands saying to each of us, “Get up and win that race!” Winning for us, may just be to finish the course. May we remember to do so even when it is ever so hard, is my prayer for all of us this week.

As always, it is my hope that this message will help you this week to, “mount up as on eagle’s wings”, and renew a little of your strength to keep moving forward and find joy…(Isaiah 40:31)

Until next time, may God bless you and may God continue to bless our great nation… SEMPER FI

Chaplain Ringo, is the Command Chaplain at MCRD H&S BN, holds a Doctorate of Philosophy in Counseling, and is a Certified Trauma Specialist.

Chaplain Ringo is a good friend and supporter of HealthWalk’s. We are grateful that he is working with us on our integrated total health approach to enhancing and restoring our veterans’ resilience for re-engagement and for their transition from the high operational tempo back to their families and civilian life.