I was on an early morning run with a few friends in mid-September. Running in the dark isn’t something I do very often, but it can be fun with a group. It was the middle of cross country season and the crisp morning air was a welcome respite from the hot afternoon temperatures we had been enduring at practice. Traffic was quiet and we were having a nice run. Things were going well until I decided to dodge an oncoming car. I was certain it was headed straight for me. That is when I located a chunk of missing pavement with my left foot. I rolled my ankle and went down fast, landing hard on my right knee. I did a quick assessment for possible injuries. The ankle was sore, but strong. My knee, however, didn’t fare as well. I left a bit of it on the road along with a part of my running tights. This is actually a mark of honor. If a hurdler goes down on the track, everyone wants to know if he left any flesh on the track. I was fine, but my favorite running pants were not and that irritated me! I walked for a minute to test the ankle and then finished the run. Three days later I was running the same route in the daylight with some middle school cross country runners. Things were going well until one little guy decided to trip on the edge of the pavement. He went down fast, landing hard on his right knee. He made it clear that he was in pain. I asked him to open his eyes and look at me. Asking didn’t work. I then demanded that he open his eyes and look at me. We did a quick assessment of his injuries. He also left a bit of flesh on the road! I convinced him to walk for a while. He eventually began a slow jog and then finished the run! We took a photo of our matching runners’ knees and developed mutual respect for one another. It was a bonding experience!
What did I learn from the Runners’ Knees Lesson?
Shared trials can create and strengthen lasting relationships. Think about an old roommate from college. You studied, starved, and stayed up too late together. Prior to those experiences you may never have sought her out in a crowd. However, the time spent together as struggling young adults cemented your friendship and you still send Christmas cards to one another.
When I think of our high school cross country team, I view them as a menagerie. They do not all belong to the same religious, economic, or social group, but they have developed a bond through shared long runs, speed workouts, and even injuries such as runners’ knees. They have pushed themselves and each other until their lungs ache and their stomachs heave. They ice their shins together and feel remorse for a teammate when he has to miss a race due to injury. These runners have mutual respect for each other, because they know how hard it is to run and keep running through pain. They will graduate some day and go their separate ways, but they will always appreciate the things they learned about each other and themselves while logging mile after mile together.
I have developed many lasting friendships in my life through similar experiences. Several fast friends were made while serving as leaders at a church camp for young ladies. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, the discomfort of tent camping, or the fear of rappelling off a cliff that drew us together. Those friendships have remained sure and provided much joy in the years since. We have a common ground on which our friendship was built. Recently, I visited with one of those camping friends while attending the funeral of a mutual acquaintance. She said to me, “I always smile when I see you. I always have warm feelings.” That is exactly the way I feel about her.
Some friends have been made by experiencing the same trials, although not at the same times, such as those who reached out to me in friendship and understanding after the sorrow of miscarriage. Their ability to empathize came from a difficulty of their own. Although they were no longer in the middle of the same trial, their ability to express understanding at a time when it was greatly needed left a lasting impression on me. For some, I can remember the very instant they reached out to me, where we were, and especially how it made me feel. It gave me hope.
Our dearest friend, even Jesus Christ, suffered through all that we suffer. If we, being mortal and imperfect, find understanding for those who share our pains, how much better can He, being perfect, succor us? When we understand that He knows what we are going through, it becomes easier to let it go. We can then have hope.
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