By: Carissa Lovvorn
Bang! This past weekend, the familiar sound of a single blank-gun shot signaled the start of the 2026 fall high school cross-country season.
I’m always amazed by the number of students who willingly wake up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning just to run for miles. I tend to subscribe to the whole, “If you see me running, you may want to run too because something is going down” sort of group.
The fact that my oldest daughter chose this as her sport makes me giggle. Not me…
The typical 5K cross-country course consists of various terrains including hills, rocks, creeks, mud, and more. Races are held rain or shine, in the heat or the frigid cold. The students, ranging from seventh to twelfth grade, look determined as they gather at the starting line. But once the race begins, differences in speed and skill quickly separate the runners into their respective groups.
Spectators rush from one checkpoint to another, eager to catch a glimpse of their runner and cheer them on toward the finish line. By the time they reach the end, some runners are so exhausted that they experience extreme thirst, overheating, or even fainting spells.
When I asked my daughter what she thinks about while running, she replied, “There is a mix of singing, praying, and questioning my sanity going through my head. I ask myself, ‘Should I walk? Should I run? Why can’t this just be over?’”
In my opinion, these are all extremely valid questions!
I’ve come to believe that a cross-country race is very similar to what we experience in our spiritual lives. Sometimes the temperature is perfect, and the terrain is smooth. These are the times when life is good and believing is easy. Other times, the course is nothing but hills, rocks, and mud, and our efforts are spent fighting against the elements. These are the moments when believing is hard and when our strength wavers. We endure it all without being able to see the finish line or the rest that awaits us there.
It’s easy to allow the negative aspects of life to overwhelm us, but we must rely on our faith to sustain us. Faith in our heavenly calling urges us to forget what is behind and strain toward what is ahead—the ultimate prize. Our Heavenly Father encourages us to not only run this race with endurance but also to rejoice in our sufferings, allowing suffering to produce character and character to produce hope. (Romans 5:3–4)
What faith it takes to start a race knowing the finish line is literally miles away. Yet, we press on toward the goal. And oh, to make it to the finish line of life! Unlike a runner who collapses to the ground in utter exhaustion, we’ll fall into the warm embrace of Jesus, where we can finally say, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7 KJV).
Keep running.
Many blessings,
Carissa Lovvorn
