George Sheehan, running philosopher-king, once said the difference between a jogger and a runner is the signature on a race registration form. His point wasn’t that racers run faster than joggers; they don’t always. He was noting the fact that races force us to examine our commitment. They give us the opportunity to push ourselves and measure ourselves. Bill McKibbon, in Long Distance: Testing the Limits of Body and Spirit in a Year of Living Strenuously, trains for 12 months in the attempt to give “one supreme effort.” He says, “I’d never competed, taken on that risk to my body and my ego.”

Most of us don’t. Very few of us have areas where we can compare ourselves to anything in an objective manner. I’m not saying we need to compare ourselves to others necessarily, either. I can’t objectively compare my teaching now to my teaching ten years ago (no matter what the standardized test makers or the politicians say). Sure, I think I’m better now than I was then, but it’s not like racing. Even in racing, the numbers on the clock or the place on the podium don’t tell the whole story. The act of competing against myself, the clock, and the other runners pushes me to another level.

This next level focuses my mind. McKibben talks about being totally focused for the full 57 minutes of his first race. This focus is what leads to the emotional breakthroughs. It is what reaveals our true self. McKibben quotes Emily Jenkin’s book, Tongue First: Adventures in Physical Culture. She writes about her eight years of teaching aerobics saying, “I had not emotional experiences whatsoever. Only a sense of control over my body, which I ultimately believe is illusory.” Racing gives us an opportunity for that emotional experience. Sometimes it is good: We push through the agony of mile two in a 5k. Other times it is negative: we stop and walk up that third hill and get passed by half the field.

The competition of a race allows us to test our limits, to give that supreme effort. Only in a race can we push through the gut-busting pain or choose to ease up. As an English teacher, I know that there can be no growth, no story without conflict. The race introduces that internal conflict.

I’m racing tomorrow, and I hope I commit enough to make it hurt. I also hope I have the mental strength to give that supreme effort.

I’ll let ya know.