Monday, April 23, 2007

CHARLIE

I was a freshman at Oral Roberts University with little idea of what education for "The Whole Man" meant. During orientation we were given instructions on how to record our 30 aerobics points a week that we had to accumulate in order to remain a student of that august institution.
I had no idea what 30 aerobics points meant in physical activity but it didn’t seem like much . . . that is until the first week was nearing to the end and I was sure they were going to kill me before I became fit. It was really quite simple. I only needed to run three miles at about eight minutes a mile three times a week along with the activity I was involved in for my P.E. classes and I would come quite close to meeting the 30 points.

My only problem was that educating the body was something I had forgotten at about five years old. I was a scholar not a jock. I did well to even walk three miles without fainting. Jogging was actually slower for me than walking since I wore myself out in about a hundred yards and had to sit for five minutes to recover. I figured that if I did nothing else than walk it would take me about ten hours a week to get my points.

About midterm I decided that I needed to join the gang and at least try this thing of running, actually jogging, actually shuffling my feet faster than a walk and perhaps I might be able to call it running.

It was on one of these little excursions that a rugged athletic looking guy pulled up alongside of me. He walked as I puffed and pretended to be cool and really into the fitness thing. Jocks didn’t often converse with me and I didn’t want to blow my chances of breaking into a new social order.

Charlie had two friends that ran with him every evening about the same time I did. They passed me on the trail almost every night I ran. Tonight he was alone. He said that he had seen me and wondered if I would mind if he ran with me. I laughed and said I was afraid I would slow him down. He said he just wanted to have a partner that night and I was doing fine.
I wasn’t sure I liked the idea at the end of our run since in order to not make a fool of myself I ran quite hard . . . for me any ways . . . about a mile in 15 minutes.

The next night I was on the trail Charlie and his two friends slowed down when they met me. "We’re going to run with you tonight Leonard." "You’re doing great!", Charlie said as we ended what seemed like a marathon. I actually had done worse that night and even had to stop and rest. They didn’t seem to mind. They stopped with me and as we walked we talked about the Lord and the school. I should say they talked as I was only able to nod my head . . . I was breathing too hard to talk.

This routine carried on for the rest of the year. They encouraged this totally unfit guy into a jogger in only a few months. I found out near the end of our training that they had purposed to help me in what was so apparently a major task in my life by setting aside the time they spent with me. They had their run after I went to the locker room in the flying saucer gym to do weight training and shower.

The next year Charlie met me again. His two friends did not join him but we ran alone. It was not quite as regular but still I watched my time increase under his gentle encouragement. I often thought about what a real encourager he was. He never pushed me too hard but always hard enough. He never once laughed at me in my non-athletic condition. To be sure others did. I felt the sting of it continually in my P.E. classes. Even though I was in a Christian university I was often singled out for derision. That was precisely what had helped me choose to never take an interest in sports and bury my head even deeper in the books. But at ORU you had to take P.E. every semester and you had to pass. So, I took the cuts and worked on toward the fulfillment of Oral Roberts’s dream for my life - becoming an educated whole man.
Charlie became a great friend. He even decided that one of the girls I was snowed over was really more suited for him than me. I forgave him for it and he later married her.

About midterm second semester we went out for a run that he said was going to be a special one. As we got ready, he said, "Today you are going to run faster and farther than you ever have Leonard." I wasn’t sure that I was going to like it. I wasn’t a jock by a long shot and my best time for a mile was ten minutes. But I felt that if Charlie thought I could do it I would try.

As we began our run, I realized that Charlie was a much better runner than I ever dreamed. He pushed ahead but called out for me to keep right up with him. I did my best. At the end of the first mile we had clocked eight minutes - seven and a half miles an hour. I was nearing death. He slackened the pace a bit but I started hurting so badly that I said I didn’t think I could make it. He just spurred me on. "You’ll do fine." I must have believed him or some kind of a miracle happened because I decided that I could do this. I actually speeded up.

The next mile was a little slower but I was determined. I ran the third mile my whole heart. I was going to break the eight minute barrier and maybe even make up for the time I had lost in the previous one. All the way Charlie gently pushed me on. Every now and then he would say, "Keep it up, you’re doing fine!"

About a quarter of a mile from the end of our run Charlie said, "Now let’s run!" I couldn’t say it - I was too winded - but my head said, "I thought that was what we were doing!" He began to sprint. I gave it all that I had to stay with him yet he pushed me further by staying just a step ahead. By now he was yelling, "You can make it! Go! Go! Go!" I felt like everything inside of me was exploding. My gut felt like a knife was plunged in it. I couldn’t even feel my legs and feet. Still I believed that if Charlie thought I could do it I would not let him down. I had to go on.
About a hundred yards from the finish line Charlie stopped. For a second I didn’t understand. But I kept on going. He stood and yelled with everything that was in him, "Go for it! Go for it!" He let me cross the finish line alone just so I could savor the victory for myself.

Charlie and I never ran together after that day. We didn’t have too. I can still run an eight minute mile after 25 years. I run six times a week and am in better condition than I was on that day. But if it hadn’t been for Charlie I’d have given up fitness on graduation. Yet Charlie gave me a lot more that the joy of running.

I didn’t fully realize what he had done until years later when someone told me that I had been a mentor to them. They pointed out qualities in me that I never really had seen. As I pondered this, I realized where I had them imprinted in my life. I learned to mentor on a track at ORU under one of the best encouragers and mentors I have ever known.

My friend Charlie.