Warm Up
Warm Up
Can’t wait—in a hurry—gotta get going—get this over with—only so much time. . . .
Thoughts like these push us out the door to get the workout in, and then we are on our way. “Run and done” is our motto. We do that to our peril, risking pulled muscles and more.
Serious athletes in all sports know the importance of warming up before a contest in order to prepare their muscles, joints, ligaments, and other body parts for the strain that will be placed on them. If you get to the stadium or field beforehand, you’ll see a lot of jogging and stretching, pulling and pushing on the muscles and ligaments about to be used. These athletes want to do their best; they also want to avoid injury. In running, many injuries occur because the runners fail to stretch or prepare the body in other ways.
All of this speaks to being properly prepared for the run, for the race, and for life. Rushing through a quiet time with the Lord or rushing into spiritual service may hurt us much more than a pulled muscle.
Centuries ago, Solomon wrote, “Too much activity gives you restless dreams; too many words make you a fool” (Ecclesiastes 5:3). True enough. In the case of running, he could have added, “Too much activity too soon.”
The Runner
He was ready, having carefully followed the marathon workout schedule for the past couple of months. He knew his endurance was increasing; he didn’t begin to break a sweat until almost five miles. And he actually looked forward to the long run of the week, especially if the weather conditions were right. Just a few weeks to go before the big race!
But his day was crazy at work, and his afternoon meeting went on forever! Then he drove into a traffic snag that doubled his drive time. So as he pulled into the driveway, he was frustrated and couldn’t wait to get out of his suit and into his jogging outfit and run. Literally, he couldn’t wait. So he didn’t stretch at all—just started running. And because he had started late, he began much faster than normal.
Just a couple of miles in, he felt his left hamstring tighten, but he kept running . . . until the pain almost knocked him to the ground.
The run had ended . . . as had his marathon dreams.
The Race
In the early days of the church, the apostle Paul wrote these instructions to Timothy, his young pastor protégé: “Never be in a hurry about appointing a church leader” (1 Timothy 5:22). Paul was seeking to protect the church from immature leadership that might lead to failure. Instead he said that Timothy should make sure that leaders in the church were mature believers, with theological knowledge, a solid reputation, and a track record of positive, moral living. In his hurry to establish the church, Timothy might have been tempted to appoint, install, or ordain young believers who looked and sounded good but weren’t adequately grounded in the faith.
We run the same risk today when we ask new Christians to lead Bible studies or elect them to positions of responsibility in the church. We do it with young people by holding them up as examples of mature Christians (they often fall off that pedestal). We do it when we act as if we have all the answers when, in fact, we harbor serious doubts.
Even if we’re not quite ready for leadership, it shouldn’t discourage us from working in the church or serving God in other ministries. Regardless of how long we’ve been following Jesus, we should be careful about jumping into leadership without adequate preparation—we don’t want to pull a spiritual muscle.
Some things shouldn’t be rushed.
The Result
As a committed follower of Christ, you want to serve him . . . and you should. But be careful about taking on more than you can handle, considering your level of spiritual maturity and life experience. You wouldn’t ask a high school student for marriage advice. You wouldn’t ask a private to lead you into battle. You wouldn’t hire a recent college graduate to manage a professional baseball team. And if you were that student, private, or recent grad, although you would be flattered by any of those opportunities, you would be foolish to accept them. Each one would be a recipe for disaster. Some things shouldn’t be rushed. Take time to warm up and stretch before hitting your stride.
My Story
At 5:00 a.m., the guesthouse doors are still locked, but a quiet exit out the window and a quick shinny down the corner post of the front porch roof makes that a nonissue. The chickens and a cat who doesn’t want to be seen are awake, but no one else is. The city is oddly quiet in the predawn glow coming from the water. I know this is going to be one of those runs, an experience that takes me somewhere only runners can comprehend. Despite my desire to sprint, I start out with restraint.
Each November, the tiny Chinese territory of Macau is transformed into the hub of Formula racing as it hosts the Macau Grand Prix. One of the most challenging auto-racing courses in the world is assembled on the edge of the South China Sea, tucked along the waterfront, and threaded up the subtle hillsides. The course is one of the narrowest to be raced anywhere. A tight 180-degree turn called the Melco Hairpin squeezes the course down to just twenty-two feet. During the rest of the year, it’s not difficult to find the red-and-yellow striping painted on curbs, corners, and permanent barricades. I plan to run as much of the course as possible.
Finding my way out of the neighborhood is easy. The water provides a point of reference from just about anywhere within the territory. The challenge is finding the right water. A few hundred years ago, Macau was an island, but a pair of sandbars on the north end joined, and the tiny territory now has twenty-five miles of coast and two-tenths of a mile connecting it to Guangdong Province in China.
Nevertheless, the “major water” of the expansive China Sea serves as my guide to the Formula racing circuit. The start and finish of the course is surrounded by water with the section leading up to it on a narrow breakwater that protects a reservoir.
A steady ten minutes at an easy pace, and suddenly I see the red-and-white striping crisscrossed with telltale tire skids, silently telling stories of very loud events.
I fall into a rhythm on the course and am struck by the aromas. Macau has the highest population density on the planet. The half million residents squeeze into eleven square miles—forty-five thousand folks for every square mile. So this is an urban adventure. And with so many mouths to feed, breakfast starts early.
The smell of chicken eases out of an apartment complex to my right as I work my way through the Solitude Esses. Odd choice for breakfast, but then again, it could be something that simply tastes like chicken. A flowering shrub clings to its small section of wall, launching a sweet fragrance into the morning. After that a musty smell floats up from a small water run-off that passes under the road—then a spice of some kind, almost like paprika.
Lisboa Bend introduces a straight section, levels out, and provides views of the harbor. Right about now I realize that I may be running opposite the direction the circuit is raced. Oh well—makes my experience more unique, I guess.
Down toward the harbor and casinos, there is still an eerie lack of activity for a city so full of people. It’s peaceful.
Then it hits me. I’m on a racing circuit where millions of dollars are spent on going fast, and I’m thoroughly enjoying traveling eight miles an hour. I see life, my life. The total tonnage of what I miss out on while ripping through life at Mach 1 flashes before me. And running appears once again as a gift.
Ironic. I’m running, but in doing so, I’m slowing down and taking in the nuances. I’m experiencing things others miss. I’ve come to believe, and have proven time and again, that the best way to experience someplace new is to go there and run. In this primitive activity performed by humans since creation, we push aside the filters modern life surrounds us with and settle into the essential. We learn, we smell, we feel, we live.
Todd
Think It Through
1. When have you seen a young or inexperienced person thrust into a leadership role prematurely? What happened?
2. In what ways might we be tempted to rush spiritual maturity? Why is that tendency problematic?
3. What does “warming up” spiritually mean to you? How will that help you in the long run?
On Running
How important is flexibility to running well?
Flexibility increases the elasticity of the connective tissue and muscles and decreases injuries. Stretching and flexibility training will increase your range of motion and alleviate muscle and joint pain. The more flexible your muscles are, the better your running stride and efficiency will be. Tight muscles can shorten your stride, making you work harder and tire sooner.
