Running in the rain

And Elijah said to Ahab, “Go, eat and drink, for there is the sound of a heavy rain.” ⁴² So Ahab went off to eat and drink, but Elijah climbed to the top of Carmel, bent down to the ground and put his face between his knees.

⁴³ “Go and look toward the sea,” he told his servant. And he went up and looked.

“There is nothing there,” he said.
Seven times Elijah said, “Go back.”
⁴⁴ The seventh time the servant reported, “A cloud as small as a man’s hand is rising from the sea.”
So Elijah said, “Go and tell Ahab, ‘Hitch up your chariot and go down before the rain stops you.’”
⁴⁵ Meanwhile, the sky grew black with clouds, the wind rose, a heavy rain started falling and Ahab rode off to Jezreel. ⁴⁶ The power of the Lord came on Elijah and, tucking his cloak into his belt, he ran ahead of Ahab all the way to Jezreel. 1 kings 18:41-45

Are you among those preparing for the great Nairobi Marathon? Then you are probably among those struggling to settle into a routine of punishing yourself on chilly mornings with short runs that don’t seem to make much sense.

You believe in yourself. You also believe that it is the decent thing to do; at least for your health. Some days are good and others not so good but each subsequent run is a little easier than the first. You are filled with hope. The burning in your chest and the cramping in your legs is something you begin to look forward to. However, before I digress too much, let me tell you my story. In some way it is related to Elijah’s above. I don’t know exactly how, but we’ll figure it out along the way.  

It had been a tough day at work. And my body had been talking to me the whole week-telling me exercise things. I needed to unwind.

I came home determined to do one of those runs; the stress runs. A stress run is one where you run until your spleen feels like it is going to come out. It is a fast and somewhat crazed run that usually ends at some lonely place. Why?

Because at the end of it you always feel an irresistible urge to contort your face in ogre-like agony and unleash a mighty roar towards the skies. Finally you do a half-squat before rising like a sphinx to shake your tired fists at the elements that have conspired to make your life miserable.

The weather wasn’t promising. But then again, when is the evening weather ever promising in Nairobi?

I changed and warmed up amid a chorus of protests from my wife and kids. It had been drizzling and the promise of a severe storm was not too far off. I put on my most serious face, went into quiet mode and walked out of the door. Men, you really ought to listen to your wives (at times of course).

But Joab replied, “My son, why do you want to go? You don’t have any news that will bring you a reward.”

23 He said, “Come what may, I want to run.”

So Joab said, “Run!” Then Ahimaaz ran by way of the plain and outran the Cushite. II Sam. 18:19-23

It was awfully dark as I started off and I found it rather curious that there was hardly anyone on the streets at 7.30 p.m. It was pitch dark and my stress-run soon changed into a cautious jog as I watched out for logs, rocks and open man-holes in the unforgiving darkness. As I passed by a nearby slum, some drugged youth followed my progress keenly as if they were undecided on whether to chase after me or to let it pass. My thoughts shifted to my newly bought Bata running shoes. Were those ruffians thinking of relieving me of my hard-earned shoes? Now I was afraid. A bitter cold wind had started blowing with increasing ferocity at my back. A flash of lightning briefly threw the road ahead of me into sharp focus. There was not a soul to be seen anywhere. I felt lonely and began to pray.
In the distance I heard what sounded like the roar of many vehicles on the nearby highway. I figured that the cops must have held up the cars on the nearby highway for some MIP (Most Important Person) to pass and now they had let them go.

As I processed the sequence of events, someone ran past me faster than a frightened gazelle. My heart skipped a beat. What was happening? I was terrified. It was obvious that he was running away from something. I called out in the darkness. It was a Maasai man. He stopped briefly to gather his ‘ shuka’ about him and shouted back, ‘Stupid boy! Can’t you hear the rain coming behind you? Look for shelter or you will die.’

 You were running a good race. Who cut in on you to keep you from obeying the truth?Gal.5:7

I panicked. I was at least two kilometres from home. If I sheltered I risked life and limb in the darkness. If I went on, God knows if I had the stamina to keep going in the coming rain. But in the briefest of moments I had made a decision to continue running for as long as it depended on me.

The sound of vehicles I had heard on the highway was actually the sound of a storm approaching. In minutes I was drenched to my shoes. The cold was twice as bad and visibility was down to less than a metre. I moved to the middle of the road and kept on running. I remembered a movie I had watched some time back about some soldiers caught behind enemy lines. Each day they would come up with a crazy sing-along to dull the pain of their arduous journey to possible freedom. I came up with mine and shouted into the darkness as I plodded along; ‘stand up, get up, get on, keep up! heeee, heehaaa!’ It didn’t make any sense but it did it keep me going.

And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us Heb. 12:1-2

I turned a corner and saw people sheltering on a shop verandah. A few pointed at me excitedly as I came towards them. ‘ Come here, come here!’ they shouted.  I was tempted to stop and rest. My legs were just about gone and my chest was burning but deep within I knew that I had been here before. I was not giving up. Besides, didn’t they know just how easy it is to be struck by lightning in such shelter? I ran past them.

As I rounded the final corner I came across another group sheltering. By now I was barely running. My exhaustion had reached its limit. As I went past them I could hear some saying how silly I must be to run in such weather. A girl giggled as I stumbled into a paddle. I was not about to give up because of their silly opinions. In Kenya we run and we never give up on a race! My blood was boiling. I was no longer cold. I felt like a martyr. If I ran myself to death, so be it! (Ok, am being a little melodramatic there).
 Anyone who runs ahead and does not continue in the teaching of Christ does not have God; whoever continues in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. II John 1.9

I ignored them and summoned strength for a final sprint as I saw the gate to our neighbourhood in the distance. Victory was in sight. I could almost hear the cheering crowds. I was now running at full throttle. This was my moment!

“The driving is like that of Jehu son of Nimshi—he drives like a maniac.” II Kings 9:17-20

Then a curious thing happened. As I dashed like a mad man past the main gate, the rain stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. “Why now?” I asked myself. This presented an immediate dilemma.

How silly I would appear to my wife; all drenched and no discernible rain outside. Worse still had they not warned me not to go out in the first place? She would certainly be cross with me. I prayed again.

I sneaked into the bathroom and tried my best to send my four year old to fetch me a towel without my wife knowing. He ran up the stairs. I could hear him excitedly telling his mother how daddy had come in ' dripping wet.' The towel had been forgotten and my wife was calling me upstairs. This was no time for profound explanations. I pretended not to hear and sent my in-law to fetch me the towel and some fresh clothes-secretly.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. I Cor. 9:24-25

Pictures courtesy of:

www.clipartillustration.com

examiner.co.uk
www.123rf.com
www.mnn.com