When I was in high school I decided to join the cross country team. No one was cut from the team, because the coach did not feel that was necessary. Anyone who didn't really want to be there would quit within a week or two. I did not join because I loved to run, nor because I was good at running. I joined because I had friends in cross country, and because I wanted to see if I could handle it.
I have been a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from birth, but I feel that this experience taught me a little bit about what it would be like to join the Church as a convert. The cross country team had their own lingo, and they already knew each other. I was an outsider, and I wasn't good at running. And it was hard. If I had been there solely for the company of my friends, my cross country career would not have lasted more than one day (I nearly fainted after the first practice from dehydration. It was September in Las Vegas, probably 105 F or more). I didn't quit because I had to prove to myself that I could do it. My friends helped me, and gave me advice, but I would not have stayed just for them. I would not still be a member of the Church if I were in it just for friends. I love the Church, as I grew to love running. I'm grateful for the friendships I have had within each, but neither is worthwhile only for the social aspects.
I have since stopped running, but I've taken up cycling. I guess I like pain. I have called my blog and this post the final kick because that is what I love most about running and cycling and life. During the last 200-300 meters, when there is nothing left but pure will and a desire for the pain to end, when at the end of a 50 mile ride, you pedal so fast you can't feel your legs - you can't hardly see - and you finish strong. To give everything you have for the entire race, and give even more during the final kick - that is what life is all about, to me.
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