To Hill And Back

Every year, on the day after Thanksgiving, our local here in Woburn, hosts a running race called “To Hill and Back.” It’s a 4.25 mile trail race that weaves its way around the trails surrounding Horn Pond. I decided to run this race back in the fall of 2010; the great setting for the race and the allusion to anything Biblical, even if it was hell, was too much for me to turn down.

In Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians, Paul likens the life of faith to a running race, but with some important exceptions. He writes,

“Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it. Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one. So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air; but I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified.”

Starting Line
Just before the race began, my adrenaline really started to pump. For most people, the pre-race adrenaline rush has to do with the competition, but for me it mostly comes from fear – the fear that I’m going to poop out half way in to the race and have to walk home. When the gun goes off, that all adrenaline pushes you run faster. You head out like you are shot out of a cannon, at a far faster pace than you pretty much ever run. 

The life of faith can be like that too. In the Gospel fo Mark we hear the story of Jesus healing a leper. Jesus heals the leper and then warns him, “See that you say nothing to anyone; but go, show yourself to the priest, and offer for your cleansing what Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.” Jesus did this to keep a low profile. The stories of his healing and teaching were beginning to spread. He was getting famous, which was making it hard to do his work. It was also getting the attention of the religious and political authorities. The things Jesus was saying, the things he was doing were cause for trouble. But the leper, who was so overjoyed to be freed of his disease does not follow instructions. Instead, in what I imagine as an adrenaline-fueled sprint through the village and surrounding towns “he went out and began to proclaim it freely, and to spread the word” and he covered so much ground that, told so many people, that “Jesus could no longer go into a town openly, but stayed out in the country; and people came to him from every quarter.”

But that adrenaline burst lasts only lasts so long. If you’re not careful, you’ll overdo it and not have enough for the end.

To Hill
After about a mile into the race, runners come to the “hill” in To Hill and Back. And the allusion to hell her is quite fitting. The hill is Horn Pond Mountain, also known as Mt. Towanda. Now, the term “mountain” may be a bit of stretch, although back in the day people did used go skiing on it. Its a very steep hill right next to the south side of Horn Pond. From the top you get an unobstructed view of Boston.

I knew beforehand that the hill would be the biggest challenge in the race, and I had never been up there before, so I did a little recognizance in the weeks before the race. I learned that there is a paved trail that goes up the hill. It’s steep and full of switch backs, but its manageable. I ran up the trail a couple times beforehand the race to figure out my strategy.

This turned out to be all for naught because that is not how we went up the hill.

Instead, the race takes you to the back side of the hill. It’s unpaved, rocky and steep and near vertical in places. By the time I got there, there were people already on the hill. The really good runners were making their way up, but most people were slowly making their way up the path, such as it was. They were walking slowly, some were climbing on their hands and feet. I, of course, feeling confident, in the best shape of my life at the time, think, “No problem. I’ll slow down a little bit, maybe down to a nice trot. I’ll shoot past these people and jump ahead in the race.”

That lasted for about 30 seconds. I, like everyone else, was gasping for breath. I went from an adrenaline fueled sprint to, quite literally, a crawl, as I made my way up the steep incline. In not too long, some of those people were passing me. (They had run this race before.)

In the life of faith we have the moments – when bursts of devotion or spiritual deepening, what we sometimes call mountaintop experiences, slow down and change. We worry about whether we are falling back, falling behind, falling away. We wonder about our relationship with God and with the church. However, while the Christian life may be a single journey, but it is made up of many different parts and paths.

The climb Mt. Towanda lasted probably a third of a mile (though it felt a lot longer). By the time I reached the top my heart and lungs wanted to jump out of my chest. We ran down the path I had practiced going up.

A race is, by definition, a competition to see who can win, who’s the fastest. Who’s in the best condition, who has the best strategy. And yet, the overwhelming feeling of most running races is not competition but comrodery. After all, we are not racing each other, as much as we are against the course and clock. The other racers serve to remind us we are literally on the right track – one the course itself – and by their mere presence they encourage us. Because – we might be crazy to be doing this, but we aren’t the only ones.

Besides, you need to be nice to people. I mean, these are the people that are going to call 911 if you get hurt or report back to the race officials if you get lost in the woods. “Yes, I saw him on the conservation area trails just over there….”

Paul makes the same point on the journey of faith. We need each other – for all these same reasons. We all belong in this race. We have different experiences, different gifts. We have been different places on our spiritual journeys. Some have been at it a while. Some are pretty new.

Sometimes I think being a Christian seems as crazy to people as a bunch of people climbing up Mt. Towanda together on a cold November day. And so, we need each other. We run this race with one another. We run this race for one another.

Most of all, Paul says, we run for the sake of the Gospel – that the good news of God’s love and grace may be proclaimed to all who journey in our words and actions.

And Back
My favorite part of To Hill and Back was the “and back” part of the race. After the tortuous climb up the mountain and hurried descent, the rest of the race is pretty flat. Its a time to catch your breath, recover after the fast start and climb up the hill. Its a time for active rest and to enjoy the rolling terrain.

And, like most races, it ends where it begins. (I think T.S. Eliot said something about that.) The start and finish line are the same thing.

And so, we come back again to grace – the same grace the leper experienced in Jesus. For, the race of faith is not a race for self-improvement, to prove our superiority. It is a race that begins with God’s grace, that is sustained by grace, and finally ends with grace.

Finally, Paul writes that the race and all our journeys will not in vain – that we don’t run for a perishable wreath – or even the T-shirt and small medal you get with your entrance fee.

Finish Line

And you see this at the finish line when those who do arrive early stick around and cheer on those who come after them. (What an imagine of death and eternal life.) People stay until the last person crosses that line.

It’s not about winning. It’s about racing. It’s about the gift, opportunity, the ability to do it at all.

The point of any race is simply to run it. There is no one way or right way to do it. The challenges are different for each of us. When we start out fast but then slow down – when we have to stop and walk for a while – we can take these as failure. We can become discouraged. We think we should be doing better, more – like the other people we see. But they have their own struggles, even though you might not see them at the moment. Even when we are well-prepared, there is always the unexpected. We have to figure things out on the fly.

Even with all of that, it is still a gift simply to run it.

“Therefore,” as it says in Letter to the Hebrews, “since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.”