The Loneliness of Long Distance Runners

We’ve run a long race and many people feel as if they’ve reached the finish line. They’re celebrating and moving on to other matters. That’s great, but for many of us the recent victory — while astounding — is more like a turning point in a much larger war against formidable strongholds, one that’s about to get even more intense as those forces who cling to power see it slipping away.

This win is akin to a desperately needed drink in the middle of a marathon. Those still running races and facing steep inclines are cautiously optimistic about the near future, but also laboring to keep putting one foot in front of the other as recent allies peel away, one by one. They need to know that this is not the time to relax; it’s an opportunity to press the attack.

Keeping The Pace

I once knew a girl who was a long distance runner. One night we got to talking about the workout music that helps us keep the pace, giving us that extra oomph to tackle the next leg of the journey. This was back in the early ‘90s when the only way to do that was with a Walkman cassette player and back then, serious runners bought the kind with a Velcro strap which secured it to your hand.

But owing to the limited play duration of cassette tapes, most athletes had a favorite mixed tape they’d work out to. We’d fill them with 20 or so carefully selected, ground-pounding songs, and my favorite was “One” by Metallica. Hers was “The Loneliness of a Long Distance Runner” by Iron Maiden.

I thought about those lyrics the other day while pondering this providential win. As great as it was, there are prizes that remain elusive and we’re in that dangerous interim where exhaustion breeds laxity. Not everyone out there sees it, but we do. And we’re tired.

Many of us feel like we’ve been running long enough, keeping up a pace for longer than we expected and hoping we can hand the baton to others and let them finish what we started.

How has that worked out so far? Generations past quit the race, and gradual declines into corruption and compromise were the result. If we want revival for our nation, our states, and our communities, there is so much left to do, and the unfortunate reality is that the long distance runners need to set that pace, even if they’re forced to run alone.

Pioneers

Pioneers are visionaries first and foremost. They see things others have a hard time grasping and as a result they upend apple carts with regularity. Pioneers have a hard time falling in line because they often think the line isn’t leading anywhere worth going, and instead slice new paths through tangled, viney forests that nobody has been through in ages, or maybe ever. Pioneers rattle cages and irritate people with their constant innovations; they agitate, expose vulnerabilities, and fix things. We need them to step up like never before.

It’s lonely being a pioneer. They make people uncomfortable — friends and foes alike. Pioneers learn that being honest and accurate is more important than being liked, or even respected, so they press on, and sometimes, oftentimes, find themselves alone in a room full of people who aren’t interested in fighting the next battle.

The Battles Ahead

There is a recurring theme in history: In the aftermath of great victories, bad generals pat themselves on the back and relax, whereas great generals press the attack and demolish the wounded enemy.

Examples abound but here are two we might consider:

In the American Civil War, immediately after Lee was repelled at Gettysburg, the broken, retreating Army of Northern Virginia might have been routed by an aggressive counter-offensive. Instead, Union General George G. Meade was content to escape the disaster of a loss and celebrate the unexpected win. Despite treacherous weather that hampered and delayed Lee’s escape, Meade squandered the initiative and let Lee’s army retreat over the Potomac River where it would live to fight two more years of devastating war.

Gettysburg is remembered as a turning point, but in the hands of a pioneer that victory could have been a death knell to the Confederacy — resulting in a much earlier victory, and far fewer casualties in the end. 

An opposite example can be found in example of George S. Patton, who never once backed down from a fight and saw opportunities others failed to grasp.

In the winter of 1945, a massive German counteroffensive known as the Battle of the Bulge had pinned down several armor and artillery battalions and the American 101st Airborne division in the French town of Bastogne. Despite his army being heavily engaged elsewhere, Patton saw an opportunity for a counterattack and began formulating three battle plans to disengage six of his divisions and reposition them to attack, all in less than 48 hours. By the time his boss, General Eisenhower, got his generals together to suggest an attack, Patton had already moved everything into position.

He left the meeting and gave a two word order: “Play ball,” and with it, accomplished the most brilliant maneuver of the war.

Pioneers press ahead when others sit around debating.

Long And Winding Roads

Wars may end suddenly but this is usually the result of countless hours of toil on the part of unsung heroes who did the heavy lifting that many people never noticed at the time. They spoke when it wasn’t popular, endured scorn and humiliations, setbacks and betrayals, and still pressed on.

William Wilberforce, after striving for 19 years to abolish the British slave trade, finally enjoyed his monumental victory in 1807. As significant as that was, it didn’t emancipate slaves already in Great Britain or her colonies, so Wilberforce went back to work, following up the success and continuing the arduous race others were tired of running.

As the years rolled by, his health began to fail. Even so, he encouraged war-weary abolitionists to press on. That race lasted another two decades until Wilberforce finally received word that the final abolition of slavery was assured. It was July 26th, 1833.

He died three days later, his race finally completed.

The landscape of the world seems to have changed overnight. Where despair and uncertainty once dominated the headlines, we now have hope and encouragement. For some people, that is. In others we see the manifestations of a spiritual sickness. We’re seeing unstable people succumb to irrational despair over lies they’ve taken as gospel. These are demonic strongholds that don’t fall quietly and we cannot simply write off those afflicted as “weird.” These are our countrymen, and God wants them healed.

There are several marathons that didn’t end with the election of Donald Trump. We’re still faced with confronting corrupt political systems, transforming a culture of addiction and divorce, curtailing mental illness and setting captives free, ending nutritional or spiritual bankruptcy, and prosecuting powerful people who should have faced justice eons ago.

If we’re content with a four-year reprieve from political persecution and few short-lived economic initiatives, then we settle for far too little. We need — we demand — radical transformation over every sphere so that they finally come into alignment with the commandments of Jesus Christ. We need to assert dominion over those areas the enemy has run roughshod over — government, education, the family, our minds, our bodies, our history. Confronting these strongholds is a task for pioneers who aren’t intimidated by the unknown.

Those who’ve been running for a long time may be exhausted, and may be ready to sit these next battles out. We need to pray on that, and consider who we’re willing to hand that baton over to. If we do, we need to make sure they understand that we run this race not for glory or pleasure, but so that those who come after us won’t have to.